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beanieblanchett · 3 years

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iii. “use me but as your spaniel”

Paring: Cate Blanchett x fem reader

Warnings: professor student relationship, slight smut, masterbation, dom/sub undertone, dirty talk

Read Chapter 2 here

(Sorry for the long wait I have been caught up with my personal and academic life lately🥺I know I’ve been a complete ass making people wait for so long. I’m so sorry)

*not my edits*

The day has been long.

There’s a clock in your bedroom. An old fashioned one, and you could hear the second hand ticking in your room: time passes in the unit of a second at a time, and you are so aware of every second that has passed.

It is painful, really. You try to focus on the reading for your psychology class, but there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, as if something is suspended in the air, waiting to fall.

To fall. Like gravity, so natural and irresistible. That is how you feel right now as you sigh and look at your planner for the third time in the past hour, a scheduled appointment for office hours with a professor, the professor…...highlighted in yellow, like the color of the sunlight that is now resting outside of your window.

And so you are thinking about her again. The other day when she was explaining the literary devices that Ovid used to show the depth of love. Love, when the word falls out of her mouth you can’t help but tremble. You take in a deep breath as you wander around the meeting link on the canvas site. There’s still 10 minutes before the scheduled time. Even though she has always said in the lecture that anyone’s welcomed to join the meeting room, you decide to wait. The amount of hesitation and a mix of other feelings pumping in your heart scares you. You hate to use the word love lightly, but what other word could you use to describe that feeling that’s dancing in your chest right now? that hopeless attraction, that constant longing you have for her? When you’ve barely even talked to her, you’ve fallen for her. You feel utterly alone, slightly ashamed, and immensely terrified.

You curse under your breath as your eyes refocus on the screen, dragging yourself back from your thoughts, you’re almost late. And so you click on the link, your body tense and your teeth biting your lower lips nervously as you enter the waiting room.

“Well Hello, so how are you doing today?”

She greets you with a smile, her voice reaffirms her presence and makes your heart miss a beat. She’s wearing a white shirt, the first three buttons casually opened, elongating her elegant neck, exposing her delicate collar bones...and the a peek of her cleavage that makes your cheeks burn. Yet you can’t take your eyes off, a silver necklace draping from her neck down to inside her shirt...almost luring you.

“Can you hear me alright?”

She spoke again, and you’re embarrassed by your lost focus...on her. It still feels slightly unreal that she’s addressing you—you’ve gotten used to not answering her questions, as you know someone else always will.

“I’m sorry...yes I can hear you. I’m doing good.” You open your mouth to realize that your voice is a little raspy from not talking all day.

She is looking slightly tired but genuine and kind as usual, staring into the camera with a satisfied smile as she nods to your answer. You can hear her clicking as you both fell silent. You try to focus on the presence of her so as to stop your thoughts from running into wild places, but that seems to do the opposite job.

“So I see you’ve got a 90.5 on your last essay, which isn’t bad at all.” She said with a keen smile as she praises you, which soon turned into a look of curiosity as she raises her eyebrows, “with such a grade you’re not required to come see me, but you still choose to. I wonder if you have any specific questions for me?”

“Oh…” no, you don’t really have any, but you look down on your notes for things you’ve prepared for this meeting, “I just wonder if you have any suggestions for my writing, you know, where can I improve, because I’d like to get a better grade for that upcoming essay.”

“Hmmm..understood.” She nods again, and you can see her eyes quickly scanning through your essay as she speaks.

And her left hand, that was supporting her chin, is now resting on her left cheek. And—an observation that scorched your cheeks—her fingers are now unconsciously touching her own lips...in a most casual, most usual but also insanely sensual way.

“Will you give me a minute? I’d like to inspect your words more closely so I can give you better suggestions.” She lifted her eyes to look at the camera with a subtle grin.

“Oh sure. I’m in no rush.”

Her fingers returned to her lips after she’s done talking. long, beautiful fingers that you have dreamed and thought about. You’ve imagined them on your face, on your hand, on your body...in your body...without realizing how bold a move you’re making, you feel your own touch on your thighs, moving closer and closer to the center before you find yourself messaging your desire, already aroused, over the thin fabric of your panties.

You gasp at the pleasure, a silent one, and then a louder one. You look into the screen to see her now flipping through a book on her desk, (Metamorphosis, you suppose, as that’s what your essay was about), feeling more daring and slipped a sweaty hand into your pantie.

You’re wetter than you expected, providing an easy entrance for your own finger. Your breath gets heavier and heavier with your slow thrusts, trying to maintain your posture until a soft moan slips from your lips.

She’s still intensely focused on the book, and so you gathered the courage and whispered her name, “Cate….”

“Cate...Cate…..” you say to yourself, words muffled with your now loud moans, which is not getting more and more intense as you get closer to the climax——

“Okay I think I’m done here,” she looks up to you, her sudden words scaring you, ruining your orgasm and now your pussy is pathetically wet, and exposed in the air.

She doesn’t seem to expect your response as she proceeds to give you a few suggestions about your writing. She praises your interesting perspectives, and points out a few flaws in your analysis, raising some other questions regarding the texts. As always, she seems to be most genuinely interested in your work, analyzing it as if it’s the work of Ovid himself. Her voice is incredibly captivating to you, and to your swollen desire, but her highly professional manner turns you on even more——the thought of you being naked with your ugly desire, almost dripping in such an academic discussion...how sinful, how humiliating, how dangerously attractive.

“Now would you mind sharing with me the passage you’ve chosen for the upcoming essay? The Shakespeare one.”

“Oh yes. Of course.” You nod, looking down to your notes to avoid looking at those eyes, and looking at your own picture on the screen. You could imagine yourself right now, cheeks red and sweat on your forehead, how weird she must have thought of you to be.

“I’ve chosen the passage in the Midsummer Night’s Dream. Helena’s confession and pursuit of Demetrius. I find that speech of her quite touching...the devotion of putting oneself in such a lowly place, almost an act of submission, but also an act of great courage, to go against societal norms…”

You pause yourself there to look up at her, she’s nodding and smiling as always, but in her eyes, you see almost a tint of a fleeting, mischievous smirk? you must have made a mistake. And you must have been illusioned by your heating desire, so you shake your thoughts and continued: “it’s this passage,

‘Use me but as your spaniel—spurn me, strike me,

Neglect me, lose me. Only give me leave,

Unworthy as I am, to follow you.

What worser place can I beg in your love—

And yet a place of high respect with me—

Than to be used as you use your dog?’”

Finishing off, you look up again, and you feel yourself shaking.

Silence. And you think you see that mischievous smile in her eyes grow stronger. You’re almost certain, yes there’s definitely something behind those eyes. Those eyes that shine with kindness and professionalism, sparkle with interests and curiosity...there must be something behind those eyes.

And now they’re staring at you.

“Professor?” You feel unease, breaking the long silence that felt like forever.

“Is that for your essay or is that for me?”

Your heart either stopped beating or was beating at an unnatural rate, you opened your mouth to find yourself stuttering, “I...this...the essay...sorry?”

She did not respond, but her eyes now burning with a wanton look.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice is shaking.

“Oh yes you do.” She says, stopping the screen share of your essay so that you could see her and only her——eyes filled with mysterious lust, a smirk emerged on her face.

“You thought you muted yourself, didn’t you? Or did you think those filthy little noises that your pretty mouth was making could escape my ear? But I’ve heard them all, even those wet noises coming not from your mouth but from somewhere else. And did you think I didn’t notice you, looking like you’re having too much fun biting your lips with watery eyes in my lectures?”

Her stare was intense, burning you to the ground, to your knees, stripping you bare and making all your attempts to act decent seem useless and pathetic.

“You are quite a daring one, but a bashful one at the same time. How interesting.”

“‘To be used as you use your dog’...now look up and answer this: is that what you want from me?”

(To be continued.)

#cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett smut #fanfic

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jj-lynn21 · 3 years

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Stellan interview

"Stellan Skarsgard Is Finally Seizing the Spotlight"

https://www.thedailybeast.com/stellan-skarsgard-is-finally-seizing-the-spotlight

With roles in “Dune,” the Star Wars series “Andor,” and “Hope,” the character actor par excellence has never been more popular. He talks to Marlow Stern about his stellar career.

Few if any actors have built a resume as impressive as that of Stellan Skarsgård.

After achieving teen-idol status in his native Sweden—even releasing a pop single—due to the TV series Bombi Bitt, Skarsgård transitioned to film acting. It was in the mid-’90s, with roles as a sadistic oil rig worker in Breaking the Waves, a fiery abolitionist in Amistad, and a haughty mathematician in Good Will Hunting, that the towering, stone-faced Swede would cross over into America, and establish himself as one of the finest character actors alive.

He’s since maintained a healthy diet of what he calls “experimental films,” including a total of six with Danish auteur Lars von Trier, and Hollywood studio fare, such as the Pirates of the Caribbean and Mamma Mia! films, the Thor and Avengers superhero extravaganzas, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and Cinderella. And right now, at the age of 69, Skarsgård is at his most prolific. There was his Golden Globe-winning turn in HBO’s Chernobyl, the upcoming villain in Denis Villeneuve’s Dune, and a main role in the Disney+ Star Wars series Andor, which he’s filming right now in London. Oh, and he’s fathered eight children, including the actors Alexander, Gustaf, Bill, Sam, and Valter.

“There’s no competition, really,” the elder Skarsgård tells me of his talented brood. “There’s some joking competition at the dinner table, but I know they’re better than me, so I’ve given up.”

Skarsgård’s latest is the Norwegian drama Hope. Directed by Maria Sødahl, the wife of his frequent collaborator Hans Petter Moland, it is a heartrending autobiographical film about a long-married couple, Anja (Andrea Bræin Hovig) and her theater-director husband Tomas (Skarsgård), whose atrophying bond is put to the test when Anja develops terminal brain cancer. As they fight for Anja’s survival, the two reevaluate how their relationship went off-course, and why they fell in love in the first place. (The U.S. remake rights were quickly snapped up by Nicole Kidman and Amazon Studios.)

Anne Frank’s Stepsister: How Trump Reminds Me of HitlerNEVER AGAINMarlow Stern

In a wide-ranging conversation, Skarsgård opened up to The Daily Beast about his many great films, the controversy surrounding pal Lars von Trier, being a nudist, and much more.

How have you been passing the time during the pandemic?

In different ways. The first half of the year I was at our summer house on an island outside of Stockholm, and all my kids—who were also actors, most of them, and they weren’t working either—were all out there in two houses eating dinners together, having a good time, and seeing the spring inch-by-inch, everything grew, which you never get time to do otherwise. But this job I’m doing here now [in London], I was supposed to fly back and forth from Stockholm because I’m shooting this Star Wars series called Andor, and it would have been very convenient because it’s only a two-hour flight, but because of the quarantine I’ve been stuck here. For more than a month I’ve been alone in a hotel room staring into the wall.

Speaking of the Skarsgård household, I read a quote from your son Alexander who said that when he was a teenager, “Dad was always walking around [without clothes] with a glass of red wine in his hand.” Was that your vibe during the pandemic?

Not this time! Is it the wine that worries you? [Laughs]

Did the stress of the pandemic make you feel less… free?

No, I’m still taking off my clothes when I get home very often—and my kids also, some of them do. It’s not a big thing. We’re Swedes! And we have no God that says we can’t show our body parts.

What about it do you just find so liberating? I don’t go the full monty but when I go home, I do tend to take off my pants and let loose a little bit, because it is constricting.

If it’s warm enough you don’t need clothes, right? Unless you’re ashamed of your body—or taught to be ashamed of certain body parts. For me, it’s all upbringing. It’s cultural. Some cultures don’t care about what part of the body you show, and some cultures are very precious, and some cultures the women can’t show their faces.

I’m curious what life was like in the Skarsgård household, because you’ve helped produce so many talented kids. Alexander described it as “bohemian,” similar to what you described during the pandemic, filled with dinner parties and a free-flowing atmosphere.

It’s always been a very open house, and the kids’ friends, it’s been easier to sometimes be in our house than their houses—especially during puberty, when conflicts arise—because we’re very relaxed and non-judgmental in our family. It’s really, truly pleasant. And my kids are more like pals to me. There’s no hierarchical relationship at all. It’s very nice. We just have fun!

It’s a very talented—and frankly, attractive—family. How did this happen?

How did I make kids that look so good? [Laughs]

Is that something you’re particularly proud of?

[Laughs] Well, the looks I don’t care so much about, but I’ve had two beautiful wives—and very smart wives—and that’s helped a lot. I’m not going to take much credit for anything. But what I’m proud of is, when I hear from other people in the business about Gustaf or Sam or Bill or Valter or Alexander, I hear that somebody worked with them and they were really nice on the set and totally cool with everybody, and how no matter what menial job anyone had on the set they were nice to them, then I’m proud. If they win awards it’s secondary to that, because that is a lottery anyway. Awards are sort of like reality shows.

They really are a popularity contest. Let’s talk about Hope. It could have very well been called Grief.

I thought it sounded bland to begin with, but in fact the film is about hope—and about love. It’s not a normal cancer film where it’s all about beating the cancer or fighting against it, but it’s about someone who gets a death sentence in a family situation with a lot of kids, like I have, and everything that was petrified in the relationship floats up again. It’s about how they rejuvenate their relationship, and through those horrible circumstances, find love again.

There’s one very powerful scene in the film that really encapsulates many elements and themes that it explores, and it’s the sex scene between you and your wife. It manages to capture the joy of reconnecting as well as the grief you’re experiencing.

I think it’s a great scene, because it starts beautifully—very gently—and it looks like it’s going to be really nice for both of them, and then her anxiety sets in, and things start to bad. And it does go bad pretty fast.

On another level, I’m an American and we don’t see sex very often in movies. And when we do, we don’t see it in the service of such complicated emotions.

With sex in film, it’s difficult, because sex is something that feels fantastic when you do it, and it looks ridiculous when you watch. Those humping movements like a dog? It’s not sexy at all! So, you can’t do a sex scene that looks like it feels, so they always have to be about something else. The sex scenes I had with Emily Watson in Breaking the Waves, it was about her curiosity, because she discovered her first penis, she discovered sexuality, and it was totally about the relationship. The sex was just there. And in this film, the scene is not really about sex but about something else. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sex scene that looks like it feels, and that can convey that beautiful thing that sex can be.

Really, in America, we get almost no sex scenes in movies. And it’s 2021.

It’s very strange. It’s not as bad as during the Hays Code, when you couldn’t let the lips meet for more than one second.

You just had a train going into a tunnel.

[Laughs] Yes, that very subtle image. But in America, you have a strong, strong tradition of bigotry or fear of sexuality. Only two years ago, in nine states in America, it was still illegal to have sex outside of marriage, and my American friends have told me that when they were growing up, it was even regulated how they could have sex—you couldn’t have oral sex or anal sex—so it is so ingrained in American culture that people’s sexuality is not a private thing, but something that everybody should interfere with.

Hope is also an exploration of mortality. Is that something you think about often?

I’ve never been that interested in it. I’ve always been aware of it. It’s the only thing you know in life—you’re gonna fucking die. But already many years ago, I thought I’d had such a fantastic life that it would only be fair that I died, because I’ve already lived more than most people. So, I don’t feel any injustice in death. And I’m not afraid of death because I’m not religious, so I don’t have to worry about whether I’m going to end up in hell or heaven. But I have small children still, my youngest is 8, and I’m no spring chicken anymore, so I think about how I should stick around for at least another ten years until everything is set.

I read that you’d studied a bunch of religions in the wake of 9/11 and reached the conclusion that it was all sort of bunk.

I grew up with total freedom of religion—my parents weren’t religious, though my grandmother was very religious. It was taught to me without judgment, and it was a very tolerant upbringing I had. But I hadn’t read the Bible. And after 9/11, when I saw George W. Bush standing in front of TV cameras and claiming that God had put him there, I thought maybe it was time to read what they actually believed in. So, I read the Quran and I read the Bible. There are some fantastic stories—as fiction, it’s sometimes brilliant and sometimes boring—but the God in both the Quran and the Bible, there’s only one reason to really worship them, and that is fear. It’s a power that says, “If you don’t worship, you’re going to die—and not only die, but burn in eternity.” It’s a bit autocratic and dictatorial, I would say. It’s very hard for me to worship something under threat.

And if God put George W. Bush in the White House, then God has a very cruel sense of humor.

[Laughs] Yeah, he does. And the latest president said the same thing.

But he doesn’t believe in God. He only believes in himself.

Yeah. I think that if he had more appreciation from the liberals in America, he would have just as well gone populist-liberal.

I think so too. You know, I read that your Dogville co-star Nicole Kidman already picked up the remake rights to Hope for Amazon.

She’s picked up the remake rights, yeah.

Both you and your son Alexander have shared some pretty intense scenes with Nicole. There’s that dramatic scene in Big Little Lies where Nicole hits your son in the dick, and it almost seemed to me like payback for what you put her through in Dogville.

[Laughs] Yeah, I’ve done two films with her and Alexander just finished doing The Northman with her. But she’s lovely. I really like her. She’s so cool.

At least it was a prosthetic and not Alexander’s real thing.

Yeah… coward! [Laughs]

I gotta say, between Chernobyl, Hope, Dune, a Star Wars series, and even a Simpsons cameo as yourself, how does it feel to be at your most prolific at 69?

I’m just working! I’m doing my job and having fun doing it. I’ve been lucky and a lot of good projects have emerged. It goes up and down, you know, throughout life. And I don’t think I could have a better life than I’ve had. I don’t have any regrets. And I don’t have to be the star or be in something very successful, I just have to have fun.

Nice. Do you feel you’re underrated? I think you’re someone who’s so consistently great in everything that it can almost be taken for granted how great you are. I know you won a Golden Globe recently, and that was long overdue, even if it’s mostly bullshit.

I don’t know! I can tell you: it’s much better to be underrated than overrated. So, I’m very comfortable if I am underrated. But I’m a Swede with an accent—or most of the time I have an accent—and for being a Swede with an accent, I have been extremely successful internationally, so I can’t complain. When it comes to the big studio movies, and I’ve been in four or five gigantic franchises that have paid a lot of bills for me, their concerns are financial, and I’m not a ticket-seller. I’m a solid fucking actor, and I’d rather be an actor than a star.

It gives you the mobility.

Exactly. The freedom I have. I can easily do small, experimental films and strange stuff—films that could ruin another actor’s career—so I’m in a good position.

I wanted to ask you about Breaking the Waves, because it’s the 25th anniversary this year and I consider it a masterful film. And it was Emily Watson’s first film, which is just extraordinary. How did you two establish such strong chemistry?

She’s British, which means she comes from a rather prudish society too, and to take on a role with an obscure Danish director—who wasn’t that famous at the time—and to take on a role with such explicit sex and nudity took enormous courage, but she was fantastic. My job was to love her, and that felt easy, but I think that she felt loved, and I think that she felt secure, which is essential for being able to do anything courageous. But she’s such a brilliant, talented, wonderful woman. I finally got to work with her again in Chernobyl. I mean, you just have to look at her and everything comes.

There’s this longstanding debate over whether Breaking the Waves is misogynistic or not, and I personally find it to be a misreading of the film. I’ve always thought of it as a biblical allegory of sorts about a desperate woman navigating a deeply sexist world.

Absolutely. Lars doesn’t have that in him. Those fantastic female roles that he has written, if you want to defend women in film, you’ve really got to take care of him because he writes the best roles for them. Those roles are very much him, and he definitely doesn’t have a negative attitude toward women. He loves them. There’s a plague of labeling people—not for what they’re really saying, but for what they appear to say. He was stamped as a misogynist and then he made a bad joke about Hitler at Cannes, and everyone stamped him as a Nazi, which is the furthest thing from what he is.

Stellan Skarsgard and Emily Watson in Breaking the Waves

You stamp people as a “racist,” a “fascist,” a “communist,” I mean this fucking stamping is as smart as QAnon. It’s frightening. The fantastic thing about mankind is that we’re not one thing. We’re all capable of the most brutal and horrible crimes and we’re all capable of love. We do good things and we do bad things. There are nuances. The way of seeing people as “good” or “bad” guys is forcing something upon humanity that is really dangerous, because when you say someone is the “bad” guy then you’re saying you are the “good” guy, and it’s forcing you to not look at your own flaws.

I’m a huge fan of Lars’ films but I think one thing that’s really colored people’s opinion of him are the allegations that Bjork made against him on Dancer in the Dark. You didn’t have the biggest role in that film, but is it something you witnessed?

I’ve never seen him do anything like that. It’s not him. And if you talk to any of the other women who have worked with him over and over again, you will not get those kinds of accusations. But the Bjork and Lars conflict was enormous during the shoot, and it had very little to do with #MeToo. Lars, like all directors, in the end is a control freak, and Bjork has controlled everything in her career—from the music, to the costumes, to the way she sounds—and if two control freaks try to make a film, there will be conflicts. I got phone calls from Lars during the shoot where he was in tears. She left the set several times, and it had nothing to do with sexuality. She tore up her clothes. They had a very difficult relationship. But you’ve gotta pick your toxic males. You can’t put a “toxic male” label on everybody, otherwise it will be watered down, that label.

I’m so excited for Dune. What can you tell me about it? Denis Villeneuve said that your Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is different from the comics or the David Lynch film in that he’s not as much of a caricature but a calmer, more sinister presence.

The thing about it, and why I’m looking forward to this film as well, is because it’s Denis Villeneuve. Whatever he does, he creates an atmosphere that is dense, that you can touch, and you’re just sucked into it. You’re never bored—even if he does long, slow takes. The atmosphere builds up, and you’re in his universe. I think it will be the same with this one. He’s lovely to work with, and a beautiful man. I did eight or ten days on the movie, so my character doesn’t show up for too much, but his presence will be felt. He’s such a frightening presence where even if he doesn’t say anything, I think you’ll be afraid of him. And I’m extremely fat. I had eight hours in the makeup chair every day. And in some scenes, I look very tall because I levitate. You’re going to have a lot of fun with it.

The whole HBO Max day-and-date thing is weird, and I hope as many people as possible get to see the film on the big screen.

Oh, definitely. I think they made a deal with AT&T—which owns Time Warner, which owns HBO, which owns my phone—that they cut a four-week deal where it’ll be just for the theaters, but I’m not sure. That could change.

I also feel culturally obligated to ask you about Andor, the upcoming Star Wars series you’re in. What’s that about, and who do you play in it?

As you know, they’ll shoot me if I say anything! I can’t even get a proper script. It’s printed on red paper so I can’t make any copies of it, it’s ridiculous! Of course I’ve seen all the Star Wars films, because I’ve had children in the ‘80s, and the ‘90s, and the 2000s, and the 2010s. I’ve had children in five decades, which means you’ve seen all the Star Wars films—and seen all the toys as well. But when I saw Rogue One, it had much more atmosphere and seemed a little more mature—and that was Tony Gilroy, who’s the showrunner on this one. So, hopefully this one will be a little more than little plastic people falling over.

Was a part of the motivation to do Andor to look really cool to your kids?

I do think like that sometimes! I’ll go and do a children’s movie for that reason. But also, I’m not the most mature person myself, so who doesn’t want to go and fly a spaceship?

Plus, now you can give your kids action figures of yourself and say, “Play with me.”

Fuck yeah. Go play with dad. Don’t disturb him! Go play with him! [Laughs]

I’m not the most mature person myself, so who doesn’t want to go and fly a spaceship?

OK, this is kind of a silly question, but do you have a favorite movie death of yours? My favorite has to be in Deep Blue Sea, because in that one you get your arm ripped off by a shark, and then the shark uses your body as a battering ram to destroy this underwater facility.

I would say that is probably, in terms of inventiveness, my favorite one too. It was Renny Harlin. Yeah. I like it! Fortunately, I didn’t have to spend that much time on that stretcher—it was a doll. But it looked really cool! And the sharks weren’t CGI back then. It was mechanical sharks, and they were pretty dangerous. The little boy in me was very excited.

Another movie of yours that I love, for entirely different reasons than some of these other ones we’ve discussed, is Mamma Mia! Is it basically a vacation filming these? I imagine the cast parties are a lot of fun, because it seems like you all are having a ball.

Well, it is. I’m not a singer and I’m not a dancer so I was scared stiff, but the only way to make it work—because it’s not much of a story—is that we had fun doing it, because that joy is contagious to the audience. And we really had fun. It was very relaxed in Greece there on the beaches, and the parties we had there were very good too. It was a nice bunch of people to hang with.

When the cast of Mamma Mia! goes wild in Greece, who is the one that parties the hardest? Who’s the VIP?

It depends what you mean by partying! I usually get pretty drunk. Down there, Colin [Firth] and I were pretty good at it. And at those parties, we also had 50 dancers in their twenties, and they had much more stamina.

I have to ask: Will the gang get back together for a third one?

I don’t know! It took 10 years between number one and number two, so if it takes another ten years, I don’t know. Some of us may just be there in urns, with our ashes!

You released a pop single in the ‘60s, right?

Yes. When I was 16, I became extremely famous in Sweden. We had one TV channel back then and I did this TV series, and it was like being a rock star. But it meant also that all kinds of shady people thought they could make money off me. So, this guy calls me from Stockholm and says, “Stellan, can you sing?” And I said, “No.” And he said, “Well, try it!” And then I hear this guitar on the other end of the line, I go, “Ahh!” and then he goes, “Perfect! Come over to Stockholm.” I went to this very shady studio in the suburbs and we recorded it, and then the guy who was running the project said, “I listened to the tape now, and I think it’s better if I sing and you speak on the record.” So, I don’t sing on the record. But there were very cruel headlines in Sweden. One paper had a headline that read, “Stellan Skarsgård, who we loved on this TV series, we don’t like anymore.”

That’s so mean! In addition to Breaking the Waves, another film that really raised your profile in the United States was Good Will Hunting—which holds up remarkably well. Some of my favorite scenes in that film are the ones where you and Robin Williams are jousting. And I know he’s a wild card, so what was it like shooting those?

He really is a wild card because anything can come out of him, and he can say anything and do anything, and he has this urge to do it because he has these three parallel brains that are constantly working on finding something funny or interesting. Sometimes, even when we would do ten takes and everybody would be happy with them, he’d say, “I have to get something out of my body,” so we would do one extra for that. You didn’t know what you’d experience when the camera would start rolling—you just had to dance with it. And it was fantastic. He was such a lovely man and had no ego. He was just a volcano of creativity and ideas.

Do you ever think about your legacy? You not only have a bunch of talented children but also have amassed such a strong body of work.

The thing is with legacy: you won’t be able to enjoy it, so just forget it. No, I don’t. And it doesn’t matter. If you’re extremely successful, it takes a decade and you’re gone from people’s minds. You can only hope that your children remember you for a couple of years, at least!

Well, they’ll have the Star Wars toys, at least.

They’ll have the toys! That’s right. [Laughs]

#stellan skarsgard

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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Your sister is who? (USWNT X Swift!Reader)

Hey Dudes, this is my first USWNT imagine. I’m considering writing more one shots from this universe but I haven’t decided yet. I’m totally open to requests and suggestions of things that you guys would like to see! All mistakes are 100% my own, and I hope you enjoy! Also reader is the baby of the team.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You loved your family more than anything in the world, but that didn’t mean that you always loved your last name. You had never been the most outgoing person in your 17 years on earth, but you had honestly never needed to be. The only part of you that most people were interested in was your last name, so you had learned to fade into the background and let your older sister work her social butterfly magic. Unless you were on the Soccer Pitch. That was your happy place. Who you were didn’t matter. You were only judged on your ability to get around the defenders and bury the ball into the net, which was something that you excelled at if you did say so yourself. The pitch was the only place in the world where you were more than simply Taylor Swift’s little sister, and you wanted to keep it that way.

Maybe that was why you had introduced yourself to the USWNT as simply Y/n, conveniently forgetting to add the Swift to the end. Maybe that was why you hadn’t told them who the Tay that you were texting all the time was. Maybe that was why you were so closed off anytime they had asked about your family in the past 2 months you had been on the team. Maybe that was why you were dreading the team bonding activity for the night so much. You didn’t like truth or dare to begin with, and the fact that your teammates were determined to get you to open up to them did nothing to ease the anxiety you were feeling as you sat between your self-declared team moms Alex and Kelley.

“I think I win that one” Lindsey smiled as she took a bow after finishing Sonnett’s dare. “But who should go next?” She hummed, sitting down and tapping her fingers to her chin.

“Well, the rookie hasn’t gone yet?” Megan Hummed back, smirking in your direction, laughing as you leaned a little closer to Alex, who wrapped her arm a little tighter around you.

“Ah yes, the rookie,” Lindsey smirked back. “Truth or dare rookie?” She asked, and you shrunk back a little further as you felt the eyes of the rest of the team land on you.

“Um, dare I guess?” You asked back unsure. So far, the truths had been really personal and uncomfortable questions that you had no desire to answer. At least with a dare, they couldn’t get you to reveal too much personal information.

“Brave choice kid” Ashlyn smirked, as Lindsey leaned in to listen to whatever Sonnett was whispering in her ear. The evil smile that crossed Lindsey’s face meant that whatever Emily had suggested was probably something that you really wouldn’t enjoy.

“Ok little striker, I dare you to give me free rein over your phone for 3 minutes,” Lindsey said with a chuckle. Alex immediately noticed how you tensed in her arms, your eyes growing comically wide with the implications of handing over your personal device.

“Um, that seems a little invasive don’t ya think?” You asked back quietly, praying to god that you would be able to get out of this.

“What if we set some ground rules, so nothing too bad happens?” Alex glared at where Emily and Lindsey were grinning triumphantly, rubbing your back. Those two hadn’t understood why you were so guarded, but then again neither of them was as shy as you were. They had been determined to get to know you, no matter how evasive you were. You huffed but nodded into her shoulder.

“You can go on messenger and photos, but not my social media.” You said back firmly, attempting to compromise with the women who were grinning like Cheshire cats. You were just glad that you had decided to use nicknames for all your contacts, at least they wouldn’t know who they were talking too. And your photos pretty much consisted of landscapes you had seen during each stop of your sister’s tours. You had never liked people, but you loved nature so that was what you filled your phone up with.

“Include the facetime app, we get five minutes and you have a deal.” Lindsey smiled, sticking her hand out for the phone. You huffed again, causing several of the girls to coo at how cute you looked, and handed over the desired device. Kelley laughed and pulled her own phone out to act as the timer.

You watched with worried eyes as most of the team got up to crowd around your device and Lindsey began to thumb through your phone. You glanced at the clock, praying that the time would tick by faster and that they wouldn’t find something that you didn’t want them to.

“You’re no fun kid,” Megan mumbled as she watched Lindsey scroll through the crazy names that adorned your contact list.

“Alright, Who’s Tay?” Lindsey asked after 30 seconds of scrolling, glancing over to you.

“It’s Taylor” You groaned.

“Who’s Taylor?” Emily asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“No, one” You responded far too quickly, your cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“So you tell no one that you love them all the time?” Megan hummed disbelieving as you tried to hide even further into Alex’s neck, and Kelley’s hand began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“Just tell us who he is, and we’ll leave you alone” Mal laughed at your discomfort, the memories of her rookie year still very fresh in her mind.

“It’s not a he. It’s my sister.” You said quietly. The room went silent at the admission, the eyebrows of your teammates furrowing. Some not understanding why having a sister named Taylor was such a big deal, and other’s trying to figure out why you had been so reluctant to give up such a small piece of information.

“Wait. The name on your uniform is Swift.” Someone said, breaking the tension in the room. You nodded slowly, whining as Alex attempted to remove you from your hiding spot.

“So that means that Taylor is Taylor Swift. As in The Taylor Swift” Emily nearly yelled back. Your Y/E/C orbs peaked out of Alex’s neck to meet the wide eyes of your teammates as you sent them yet another small nod.

“There’s no fucking way dude.” Lindsey snorted, shooting you a disbelieving look, causing you to laugh.

“Well, there is a way cause I exist so…” You shrugged, sending her a shy smile, as several indistinguishable questions were thrown your way from your shocked teammates.

“I’m going to call her to prove it.” She said, glancing back towards your phone, and you sucked in a deep breath.

“She’s probably in a meeting or something” you mumbled, returning to your hiding spot. You hadn’t intended this. Your phone rang out with telltale sounds of a facetime call, and your heart speeding up at the sound that signaled that someone had picked up.

“Hey kiddo, everything alright?” Taylors concerned voice filled the room, and the team gasped.

“Holy Shit you’re actually The Taylor Swift,” Emily said shocked, her mouth hanging open.

“Guilty as charged, and you must be The Emily Sonnett?” Your sister giggled, as Lindsey reached over and closed Emily’s mouth.

“You know who I am. How do you know who I am?” Emily began to fangirl, flapping her arms excitedly as the room burst into laughter.

“Y/n talks about you guys all the time. Speaking of Y/N/N, where is she?” Taylor questioned, concern leaking into her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the women, but Y/n wasn’t one to introduce people to her. Her little sister was a shy, smol bean, and just the fact that she hadn’t seen her yet was causing her a little anxiety. They had always been close, and Taylor would be dammed if her little sister got hurt.

“Over there hiding in Alex’s neck” Lindsey laughed back, flipping the camera to show you sitting on Alex’s lap, curled into her neck. She sighed in relief, glad that you seemed to be connecting with someone other than her, as that was never one of your strong suits.

“Hey Tay,” Alex smiled, waving as the offending phone was passed to her. The Y/E/C eyed girl peeking out to smile at her older sister. Taylor smiled back and chatted for a few minutes with Alex before she needed to go. Y/n said her goodbyes and hung up, pointedly avoiding the questioning eyes of her teammates.

“So you talk about Sonnett, do you talk about me?” Lindsey asked, wiggling her eyebrows, and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning impossibly redder.

“Um…” You stalled, unable to form the right words. The truth was that you might have a small, well not so small, crush on a certain defender. It was kinda hard when she was a literal ball of sunshine all of the time, and your sister had given you great advice so far. The problem was that you were too much of a wus to do anything about it, and you were utterly convinced that the age difference left you with a 0% chance.

“Leave her alone guys,” Alex said sternly, tightening her arm around you and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Why didn’t you tell me that I knew your sister?” She said quietly, rocking you back and forth.

You sighed. “Cause I wanted you guys to know me for my soccer skills and not who my family is.” You responded equally as quietly as if talking any louder would break you.

“Trust me, kid, we know all about your soccer skills” Tobin laughed, causing you to smile. You may or may not have nutmegged the nutmeg queen during practice, several times.

“But why would you hide?” Christen asked gently, moving towards you and Alex.

“People hear the name Swift and it’s like I don’t even exist. I mean, I’ve met all of you guys before and none of you even remember that. I mean I love Taylor, but soccer is my thing and I wanted it to stay that way.” You murmured, ashamed. You loved Taylor and you were incredibly proud of her, but for just this once you wanted to be known for who you are and not who your sister was.

“You’ve met us before?” Kelley said in disbelief. How had they met you and not remembered it? Sure, you were a little shy, but you were incredibly sweet and adorable. Plus she was convinced that you would be hilarious once they got you to come out of your shell.

“When she invited you on the stage during the 1989 Tour. She did it because I was such a huge fan of you guys.” You answered back, staring down at your hands. She had felt guilty about missing your U20 championship match and had invited the team on stage to make up for it. You had been so excited, but you had once again faded into the background the moment your sister was in the room. She had tried to put you front and center, but you had been so nervous that words had been nearly impossible.

“That’s why she traded us tour merch for our signed jersey’s” Tobin put the pieces together, vividly remembering trading her jersey for a signed sweatshirt.

“Yep,” You said back, popping the p, and smiling at them.

“and you met us? Why don’t I remember that?” Megan cut back in, trying to remember that night. She remembered Taylor and going on stage, but where had you been? There was no way she would have intentionally ignored you.

“Because Taylor was there and I’m just her little sister.” You shrugged, used to the fact that Taylor cast a huge shadow, one you typically didn’t mind hiding in.

“Well, I can promise you one thing. You Y/n Swift are so much more than just Taylor’s little sister” Alex said with finality. Squeezing you tight.

“Yeah dude, you put Sonnett on her Ass during practice” Tobin laughed, as Emily pouted. It was true. Emily had been assigned to mark you, which had proven to be a very difficult task. It had taken both her and Becky to finally shut down your goal-scoring abilities.

“And got 3 goals, past Uncle.” Becky added, smiling at you, as you cuddled further into your team “mom”.

“You, my dear, are a fantastic striker, and every time you step onto the pitch you show the world that you’re on the team because you’re amazing and not because of who you’re related to,” Megan said, cooing at how adorable you were. Not that she would ever say it out loud, as they had learned early on that you hated being called adorable.

“And you guys don’t hate me for not telling you?” You asked quietly, glancing up at the 22 other women carefully watching you.

“We could never hate you kid,” Kelley grinned, bumping you with her shoulder.

“Now how bout you tell us what it’s like to The Taylor Swift as a sister?” Ali smirked at you. She was one of the few that knew exactly who you were from the first moment you had walked into camp.

“Well, her fans are crazy.” You laughed, your shoulder’s relaxing, reassured that you were so much more than just a Swift. You were a force to be reckoned with, and you couldn’t wait to show the world what you were made of.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift fanfiction

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years

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Scavenger Hunt

Part 6 to Notebook! Notebook Masterlist

Summary: In which Draco is torn between his morals and desires, but chooses you.

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this chapter, pero lyke I think the two need a little push? More substance? Hnnnnghhhhhhh. It’s challenging to write Draco with realism aha, but I think it’s crucial for their growth as a couple (?) IDK...but as always, feedback is lovely and I appreciate it greatly. I hope you enjoy!

A certain blonde found his thoughts often flitting to the recent memories of the time he spent with you in Hogsmeade. He remembered how he well your hand fit into his while cherishing the taste of peppermint toads. Whenever he was alone, he’d remember all those small details: the feel of your touch, the shape of your smile, the ease of holding an actual conversation, and the overall warmth that you exuded on a day that was particularly cold. His heart skipped beats upon recalling these sensations. After all, it was relieving to put down the mask he has been keeping for so long. It was relieving to allow his walls disintegrate for even a moment.

Draco Lucius Malfoy was the only born son to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and the heir to an ancient and obnoxiously wealthy line of purebloods. He was raised upon expectations for perfection. Grades, appearance, skills, status, even the people he connected with—anything less than such was a call for a reprimanding followed by a constant reminder that he mustn't fall into the wrong sort. Such perceptions were embedded in his upbringing, and with efforts to bring his parents much pride and joy, it was his intent to strive for that very definition of perfection. Up until now, his life has been built around the goal of pleasing them.

“Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll know who you are, Draco. Remember that.” His father would tell him with a pompous and conceited tone.

The boy responds, “Yes, father.”

His childhood was a lonely one to say the least. Although he was surrounded by people his parents had approved of to be his friend, they felt more like acquaintances. Furthermore, they resembled hollow relationships founded upon networking and money rather than genuine care and trust. Perhaps that is the reason why your relationship with the golden bunch triggered him. The warmth that he felt with you can easily be seen in the way you interact with your imperfect friends, and he longed to preserve the feeling of it throughout his life.

You were of a different caliber. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was—simply put—an outsider looking into your life.

In all his honesty, Draco only knew several things about you based off observations and word of mouth. For starters you were in the rivaling house. You also weren’t as wealthy as he was. He knew that the people his parents strongly disapproved of were ones that seemed to bring you much happiness. Additionally, you never gave much priority for your status as a pureblood. Regardless of that, you somehow managed to live a vibrant and seemingly happy life. A life that highly contradicted his own. To that end, he knew deep down inside that you didn’t meet the standard of perfection set by his family. He could see his parents (mostly his father) scowl. But beyond all of the limitations the familial factors presented, your existence seemed to fill what resembled closely to a hole within his heart. He treaded over the line between securing the comfort of the reality he lived in and making the risk to realize the reality he wanted—you. His heart leaned towards the latter.

The weekend transitioned into Monday, and you still haven’t returned Draco’s notebook. While it frustrated him quite a bit, he felt butterflies over the idea of seeing you again. Class was going to start within 30 minutes, and the boy found himself seated on a tree within the courtyard, watching other students pass by. Sporadic sights of red, yellow, blue, and green crossed his line of vision until they landed on a rather large group of Gryffindors congregating near a corner. Seen among them was you.

A smile was plastered on your face as the attention of you and your friends was fixed upon George Weasely, who could be seen holding a camera. He set his device atop of a wall as he directed commands for you all to bunch closer together. After confirming the satisfaction with the placement, he clicked on the shutter and ran frantically to his place next to Fred.

“Say ‘Gryffindor’” You all responded enthusiastically. Arms were wrapped around each other's shoulders, cheeks pressed closely together, smiles all wide with glee. *snap* The scene elicited a tinge of jealousy within Draco’s heart. Before deciding to act upon his emotions, he remains planted on his tree, watching the scene continue to unfold.

“Y/N, Mione, Ginny, come over here! Let me take one of you girls.” The three of you arranged yourselves with you in between your two friends. Your arms interlaced with theirs and you gave a smile to the camera.

“Loosen up, Y/N! You look like you saw a basilisk!” Ron chimed. You threw a glare and adjusted yourself accordingly.

“That’s it! Smile now! 1, 2, 3!” The shutter went off, and you relaxed. Draco kept his gaze fixed on you separating from the two girls as you approached Ron to throw a seemingly painful jab to his shoulder. Draco chuckled from afar.

“Don’t be offended! It’s the truth!” Ron defensively rubbed his now sore arm.

“Oh, shove off Ronald!” You shared a laugh with the boy.

As your friends start to leave the site, your eyes met with the blonde, triggering a grin to spread on your face. You looked back as the group dissipated, heading to their respective classes.

“Mione, Ginny, go on without me! I forgot something, and I have to go and get it.” You called out to them. They nodded in understanding and followed the boys.

Once they were completely gone from your sight, you turned your focus back onto Draco and made your way to the tree he was in. In response, he jumped down and met you halfway with a discrete smirk.

“Didn’t know it was picture day.” He said coyly. You only rolled your eyes playfully and nodded.

“Yes, yes,” you chuckled, “It’s been a little tradition we have had since we were first years.”

There was a fond look you had on your face as you took a brief second to reminisce. Taking notice of this, the jealousy that was kindled in Draco’s chest only grew.

Without even thinking, he said, “I don’t understand why you associate yourself with the likes of them.” The rude tone in his voice offended you.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Shocked at the question, you brought your hands to your hips as an incredulous expression fixed itself on your face.

“Granger’s a mudblood. The Weasley’s are quite crummy and embarrassingly poor. Potter’s got only a scar to prove his worth in the wizarding world. I simply don’t understand why you associate yourself with people as such.” There wasn’t a single stutter in his statement. Suddenly, the adoration that you once felt was replaced with fumes of anger.

“Who are you? Moreover, what makes you think it’s right to say that!?” You looked at him disgustedly.

“I beg your pardon?” The sight of your expression pooled the feeling of regret in the depths of Draco’s stomach.

“What’s got you acting like a total git?? Seriously incredible, Malfoy! Perhaps if you gave them a chance, then you’d see why I associate myself with the ‘likes’ of them!” You said mockingly. You fished his notebook out of your bag and shoved it aggressively against his chest.

“Not everything is about status, you know?” There was venom laced in your tone, which was accompanied by a look of disappointment within the angry expression on your face.

“But, then again, status must be all that you know.” You stated coldly before turning on your heel to march briskly away from the boy. Draco only stood there dumbfounded as he saw your figure retreat from view. Not knowing how to react, he smacked his face and begrudgingly went to class. This was not how he envisioned his Monday to play out.

His mind was absent from lectures throughout the day as he contemplated your words. Although his constant berating of students from other houses didn’t normally faze him, your words caused an internal uproar and prompted him to question his actions. It was the first time he’s ever seen you react to him so blatantly. Moreover, it was the first time he felt so ashamed of his values. Knowing that the girl he fancied saw him in an ill light made him feel sick to the stomach.

“Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you who you are.” His father’s words echoed ever so clearly within his mind as Draco continued to think about you. The boy felt like he stood at a crossroad upon recalling your exact words. Uncertainty and instability filled the borders of his belief system, situating himself between the tug-o-war of his heart and mind. However, what hadn’t changed was his ardent desire to feel the warmth again. Therefore, as he situated himself in his shamefulness, he thought of ways to gain your familiarity once more.

Meanwhile, as the day trudged on, your thoughts distracted you from focusing on your studies, and you found yourself filled with an odd mixture of emotions. It initially comprised anger and frustration, but soon transformed into disappointment the more your mind lingered on the subject. Your internal turmoil had projected itself in the form of your oddly quiet nature, catching Hermione’s attention. While you were able to conceal your feelings for the young heir, the girl was always still pretty perceptive with your body language, so it wasn’t difficult for her to notice when you acted so distant throughout the day. She began suspecting you when she saw you doodling on your parchment instead of taking actual notes during transfiguration. Not wanting to assume so much, she continued to observe you. Her assumptions, however, were confirmed during dinner. You typically feasted excitedly whenever pasta and cookies were served, but as the others continued to pile their plates, your usually bubbly aura remained absent.

“Y/N” she called out to you. You looked up from the sad pile of noodles on your dish.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” The concern that was conveyed in her voice broke your walls. You weren’t sure what it was about Hermione, but she always seemed to have a nurturing and motherly character. You were very thankful for it.

“I’m not actually,” you said softly, not wanting to gain the attention of others, “Can I confide in you?” Your eyes searched hers with desperation for a solution. Noticing this, she motioned her head towards the entrance of the hall and picked up her plate to make her way there. You copied her actions without looking at your group of friends. Fortunately, though, they didn’t seem to notice. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself with your issues.

As you exited the room, your eyes met briefly with Draco’s as his vision followed your movement. You didn’t know how to react, so you kept to yourself and kept on walking. You and Hermione found yourselves situated on a bench in the same courtyard where your clash with the boy had occurred. The moon was shining above you, as the lights from the illuminated hallway framed the scene’s serenity with comfort and familiarity. You held your plate on your lap as you twirled your fork to pick up some of the pasta.

“Okay, what’s the matter?” The girl asked.

You started off slowly, “I have a question- a hypothetical one.”

“Go on.”

“Let’s say you like someone, and he’s entirely different from you. You don’t know him much, but he makes you feel good. He treats you well, and you want to know him more. When you get to spend time with him, those feelings only get amplified, and it feels perfect.” You take a break to examine her reaction so far. She only urged you to go on.

You continue, “But it starts to crumble when he says something insensitive about something you care about. Of course, you get mad. Who would ever say such a thing? Right?” She nods in agreement.

“But what if you still want to like him despite the disappointment and frustration? What would you do?” Hermione’s eyebrows were furrowed as she allowed herself to contemplate on the situation you described.

“I suppose there should be a reason for his opinion. Hmm...If he truly cared, then ideally, he would talk to you. There might not be any excuse for his actions, but if he makes the effort to talk to you, then I feel that would show that he considers your feelings. How you respond is totally up to you, but on your end, I say that you should allow him to speak and listen.”

“Even if he was a total arse?”

“Speaking from a logical standpoint, you’d be a total idiot to accept an arse. However, disappointment and mistakes are bound to happen when getting to know someone. You might as well allow the person to show himself without your expectations pinned on him. You might be surprised with what may result from it.”

“What if it’s not good?”

“Don’t hesitate to walk away. You are deserving of much more than an ignorant git.”

You were grateful that Hermione didn’t press forward to ask about the identity of this person. Furthermore, her words imprinted themselves in your mind as the week went on. It made you feel a bit better, but Draco made no approach to you ever since that night, leaving you with a bitter taste of discouragement. Despite that, you found pride in keeping your emotions at bay, deciding to focus more on your schoolwork instead of allowing your mind to wander far. Friday had come along, which meant that you found yourself in the library once again. You recalled the week prior, and how your level of attraction towards the boy skyrocketed in the span of two days. It was in this very building that sparked your attraction, but you began to falter on the thought that it would become something more.

You sat at the same desk you did last week. Papers scattered all over once again. This time it was study of ancient runes, a class that you did well in. A good hour was put into translating runes to English, however the passage was so extensive that the process felt like ages. Feeling as though your head was about to explode, you laid your head down over the mounds of work hoping to close your eyes for a bit. Your moment of peace was interrupted upon the sound of an unknown object landing in the space in front of you. As you lifted your head, your sight was drawn to the presence of a paper crane. Written on its wing says, “Open it”. You follow the instruction with pure curiosity. Within the folds of the paper is another command: “Meet me at the reference section, vanishing charms.” You wearily look around to find any clue who the sender of the crane might be. Without a single sense of danger, you stood up from your seat, not bothering to tidy up your things, and navigated your way to the reference section.

Your fingers trailed through spines of familiar books as you recalled the first assignment you and Draco had worked on. A rosy feeling spread across your chest as you remembered how unusual his affections contrasted with his typical cold and insensitive demeanor. Could he be the sender? Why else would anyone guide you to the vanishing charm section in the library?

Soon, your fingers crossed over a foreign sensation, which broke you out of your thoughts. Your gaze was then set upon a piece of folded paper tucked so carefully between the spines. You pulled it out gingerly, admiring the precision of the creases before opening it. The next message elicited a smile from you:

“I was never good with expressing feelings. I still find it pathetic and have denied the ones I’ve had for you so long. Much to my annoyance, though, I find it pleasurable reminiscing the scene that took place in this remote little spot.” Your eyes trailed to the bottom of the page.

“Do you remember where we sat to work on the essay?” Your heart was bounding as the context of the messages confirmed the identity of the owner. Much like your first interaction with him, you didn’t know what to expect. That, however, did not stop you from walking towards the table situated beneath the window that casted rays of light from the setting sun. You began your search for the next note. The surface of the table was empty, chairs were tucked in neatly—it didn’t seem as though anyone had crossed this area.

‘What would Draco do?’ You thought. You recalled qualities that you were familiar with. He was pretty witty. At times he was annoyingly rude as well. He comes from a wealthy family with corrupt ideals. Regardless, the warmth that he had shown you had no tone of ill intent behind it. In fact, its very existence, in contrast to what others saw, illustrated an image of the boy being surrounded by walls within your mind. You then concluded that if you were Draco, you would be cautious about displaying affection. Keeping this in mind, you thought of areas that could be discrete enough to hide a note. Your hand reached towards the underside of the table and skimmed through its rough texture, hoping to find any abnormalities. Suddenly, a wave of satisfaction overcame you as your finger pads were met with a contrasting smooth surface. As you did before, you carefully plucked the new paper crane as your excitement continued to grow. The words “Almost there” was written across the wing. You opened the note and there was, yet again, another message:

“Y/N, truth be told, I’m quite taken by you—Your beauty, your warmth, the comfort you bring, your shyness when you say my name, the way you look when you’re so focused as you work, even the way you interact and defend your other Gryffindor friends,”

“I’ve made a mistake that Monday morning, yet the time spent away from you makes no difference in the way your presence occupies my mind. I fail at the very act of shoving you away. I see glimpses of you in smallest and largest parts of my day. Meet me at your desk?”

Written on the bottom of the note was a signature: “Draco Lucius Malfoy”

While peace filled you, there was still a feeling of uncertainty. You were overjoyed by the fact that Draco had feelings for you, but there was no denying that a relationship with him would be difficult. The boy carried a lot of baggage, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it. However, with a brave face, you walked towards the area where you had started your little adventure.

As you drew near, there was a familiar blonde figure seated at your desk. His facial features filled with admiration as his fingers stroked your work, fingers flipping through the loose pages of parchment. You giggled to yourself, recalling the way you had done the same just a week prior.

You came up from behind him and whispered in his ear, “Hello, Draco Lucius.”

His heart almost beat out of his chest at the sound of his name rolling so fluidly through your mouth. You pulled out the seat next to him and gave him a sad smile, his eyes not leaving yours for a moment. There was silence. Both parties were at a loss for words to say, and so you remain seated without a sound, allowing the comfort to trickle in.

It had been five minutes since you arrived, and Draco kept his head down low as his stare stuck to your knees. He, then, hesitantly looks up at you, and with a soft voice, he asks, “May I?” You meet his gaze before his eyes flutter to your hands. Instead of giving a response, you grab his hand and interlace your fingers with his, your other hand covering the one that’s already clasped. You immediately take notice how large his hand feels as it’s wrapped within your own. Silence overcomes you once again as your thumb rubs the surface of his own. It was a sensation both had missed

“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out of his mouth suddenly. You look up to see that he’s already staring at you.

He repeats himself, “I’m sorry.”

The silvery eyes that were once filled with arrogance and pride were now desperately searching yours with regret. If they could speak, they’d be screaming right now. You squeezed his hand harder before unfolding it only to hold it once more, except this time you were tracing the lines engrained on his palm.

“May you explain to me why you said those things?” You asked gently.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He responds, his tone expressing a tinge of vulnerability. You give a nod of understanding before reaching over the table to gather your belongings. You hadn’t noticed how fast your heart had been beating until this point. All of your affectionate gestures came naturally within the moment that when you released his hand from your grasp, your emotions caught up to you.

You take a look at him and notice subtle things. You notice the way he towers over you, the way his body is angled in your direction, leaning towards you with a possessive stance. You notice the way his hands hang loosely on his sides and how he keeps his gaze on you with an expression that you can’t quite describe. His breathing is even but he looks at you with much intensity.

“Draco,” You call out. His attention goes to your face. Allowing your need for affection to overtake you once more, you take his hand once again and look in his eyes—they looked much relaxed now. You release a small a smile before standing on your tip toes to plant a long and affectionate kiss on his cheek. His grip on your hand had tightened in response.

Your lips ghost over his ear, “Lead the way.”

A/N: Idek. I hope you have a great day tho!

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice @vaeonshi @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity @saptediavoli @kookie-vuitton @thatguppienamedbae @ccabian

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x gryffindor #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco x you #draco x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #Gryffindor

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 10

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 10

--------------------

Chloé felt that something was wrong. She knew that the drama would only start with the class kicked out. She tried to enjoy the evening and do what she did at all other galas: be a star. As the daughter of the mayor of Paris and a famous fashion icon, she attracted quite a bit of attention. Now that she was the only reliable source of information on Marinette and Hawkmoth-related stuff, she found herself in the center of attention. Someone even asked her about her time as Queen Bee. She loved it here!

She just finished a small talk with the wife of… someone important, when unmistakable sausage hair flashed in the crowd. She would recognize her anywhere. Lila was still at the gala.

The blonde tried to find someone to tell it to, but she couldn’t do it fast enough. She saw her disappear into a corridor that led to the kitchen. Making a split-second decision, she followed her alone. On her way, she got a bright idea and sent the text to whoever she called last. There was no time to search through the contact list. It better be someone who can help.

The doors to the kitchen were closed and inside buzzed with the work of several hired helpers. They were preparing for the midnight toast. There was no way Lie-la could hide there. The only other doors led to the servants’ staircase.

“Ugh! The sacrifice I make for friendship.” She sighed before entering the tight passage.

This led her to the second floor, where she found the doors already open. It led to a long corridor with several doors on the one side and large windows overlooking the back garden. She realized she was in the west wing, which was the second oldest part of the manor.

“More creepy secret passageways…” She quickly checked her phone to see if somebody answered, but a crashing sound coming from one of the rooms got her attention.

Slowly, she crept toward the only room with lights on. She managed to get a sneaky peek inside before something hit her in the back of her head and everything turned black.

---------

“So… he really asked you out on the first day?” Allegra starred at Marinette in disbelief.

“Yeah. He was all shy and flustered, almost certain I would reject him.” She giggled. The two girls were standing on the sidelines while Jon got the boys to finally talk their differences out in a safe manner.

“That guy? Flustered?” Allegra giggled. “I think not.”

“And you? I thought Damian had no friends? Well, Jon was more of a family friend from what I heard.”

“My dad is the Gotham Mayor. Probably the only one who stayed in office longer than a week in the last decade.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way.” Allegra nodded. “I met Jon during the interview his mom was doing in Gotham for the Daily Planet. Then, we met at Gotham Academy. Damian was kinda just tagging along. And he still does. Well, I think he actually likes the occasional hanging out with us, but Claude disagrees.” She nodded toward the boys, who seemed to be coming their way. “It’s going to be nice to have a second girl in the pack.”

“I should totally introduce you to Chloé.” Marinette giggled before walking to meet Damian half-way.

“Tt. Felix is not his cousin.”

“And the floor is indeed made of floor.” Jon chuckled.

“I have the dusters…” He threatened, but his friend just laughed.

“Can we dance?” Marinette asked fast. Truth to be told she was waiting for a chance for quite a while, but with the press and then the drama and all the people wishing them well.

Nodding, he led them to the dancing floor and they joined many other couples.

“I just hope I don’t fall over… Or step on…”

“If a man doesn’t come to this thing with reinforced shoes, it’s his fault.” Damian stopped her before she could spiral. Then, his voice softened. “There is nothing to worry about. The only important person today is already dancing with me and the rest can stuff it.”

She blushed bright pink but didn’t respond. Instead, she hugged closer to his chest and allowed him to take the lead. The pair glided seamlessly through the dance floor, moving between other pairs and completely obvious to the stares they received. They melded in perfect harmony, losing the sense of time and space.

Inside Marinette’s head, they were dancing between the stars, bathed in subtle light coming from nowhere and everywhere. In the distance, her imaginary eyes could’ve seen the comet passing by and the full moon glowing in the sky. The music seemed to be coming from everywhere and encompassing them in soothing tones.

For Damian, they were the only constant in the sea of darkness. There was nothing to distract them from dancing. Even the music faded to the background when they moved in perfect harmony. The only source of light seemed to be Marinette. And even her glow was only an aura around her, not illuminating the rest of the place at first. In his imagination, everywhere they stepped, she would leave a small trail of light in the darkness.

Finally, the music stopped. The couple didn’t notice at first until the applause finally broke to them. They both realized they were now in the center of the large circle where people watched. One old lady had a tear in her eye. Marinette blushed at the attention, but did her best not to appear shy. Damian shrugged. He was superior to them, so it was obvious their dance was the center of attention. He bowed slightly to the crowd while Marinette curtsied before rushing away from the prying eyes.

“That was something…” Allegra smiled at her. “You two looked amazing. I really love how your dress reflected the light.”

“Thanks. I ma… nevermind.” She stopped herself. She wanted to reveal she made it, but Allegra was still unknown to her and she wasn’t comfortable with revealing that she is MDC so soon. Even if Jon vouched for her.

“Mari-bear!” Chloé rushed to the pair. “Quick! You need to come with me!”

“What’s going on Chlo?”

“It’s Lila!” The blonde motioned. The reaction was immediate. Marinette’s eyes narrowed and her whole body tensed. She nodded and followed the blonde, who led her toward the kitchen and servants’ staircase.

A saner part of Marinette’s mind noted that Chloé had no problem with the tight passage used only by ‘peasants’ but the majority of her focused solely on stopping whatever evil scheme Lila concocted.

On the second floor, the blonde led Marinette toward Bruce’s private office. Blood started to run cold in her veins. Did Rossi discover the entrance to the batcave? But no, Chloé would be calling the whole Batfam then. She was probably just scoping around and now awaits inside. Or maybe she just broke something in rage?

When they got close, Chloé opened the doors. Inside was in perfect order, except the chair was turned back. As it rotated slowly, Marinette managed to see disheveled blonde hair before pain exploded from the back of her head and she collapsed into the embrace of darkness.

Nobody noticed one more person in the corridor when Marinette left the office alone.

----------

Damian was ‘enjoying’ the small talk with some rich snob, doing his best to appear as the perfect son and heir to Bruce Wayne. Inside, he was cursing Allegra for stealing his angel so close to midnight. He could see the waiters hired for the evening spreading the champagne already.

“Hi. You’re Damian Wayne, right?” A girl asked him. Her blonde hair was let loose to form a large mane around her head. She looked maybe a year younger. What attracted attention were her eyes. One was bright pink and the other was brown to the point it was almost black.

“Tt. I need to get a better mask.”

“It’s the eyes. They give you away.” She smiled.

“What is it?” He scoffed. “I’m looking for someone so if you excu…”

She grabbed his wrist in a strong grip. “I’ve got a message for Damian Wayne. You will listen to what I have to say.” Her hand squeezed his wrist to the point it started to sting. “You’re far from victory yet.”

She then let go of his hand and disappeared into the crowd. She was small enough for him not to be able to track her. He took a sip of his (non-alcoholic) champagne and returned to his search, promising to check on the cameras later. Finding his beloved was now even more important.

Cursing under his breath, he turned. Marinette was just coming back from where Chloé dragged her. As soon as she saw him, she rushed toward him. A small smile ghosted his face when they met. Except something was wrong. She looked ashamed and scared.

“Damian… I… I think… I must confess something…” She said loudly, attracting the crowd. “I’m so sorry. I really am! It… I never wanted to push it that far! I just wanted a bit of the fame…” Tears welled in her eyes.

“What are you…” He started.

“They were right! I was just a filthy gold digger! But your family was so kind and you’re so precious and smart and I feel so bad for manipulating you! I can’t continue like that! It’s over between us. For your own good!”

A sword was suddenly pressed into her neck to the point it drew blood. Nobody was sure where Damian got the sword , but by now the guests were used to the fact that he could get the sword at any point in the Manor.

“Who are you, harlot, and what did you do to my Angel?” He seethed. People around quickly made a space for them, not wanting to accidentally find themselves on the business end of the sword.

“I’m sorry Damian. I know it must be hard but…”

“You are definitely not Habibti and you can drop the act. She would not act like this. You don’t even know her well enough to realize that this gold digging crap is laughable,” he accused. His voice was full of cold fury.

“You must let go. I… I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t even tie someone correctly.” A new voice joined the discussion as another Marinette pushed her way through the crowd. “Or check if someone sees you change. You’re pretty amateurish for a villain.”

“But… but…! Impostor!” The Marinette at the end of the sword screamed. People were already too confused for that to have any real effect.

“Tt. You’re the only impostor.”

“She wants to get the hands on your fortune!” The girl tried. “I’m so sorry!”

“For the love of god shut up. You sound like a broken record.” Marinette snapped. “And for your information, I don’t need to try and attach myself to someone. I have my own source of income.” Marinette hesitated. Even if the impostor, whoever they were, was dealt with, the media would still keep accusing her of trying to marry into wealth. And at school it would be even worse. She would not give Lila more lie material. “After all, I made my dress for today’s evening.”

Murmurs immediately broke. So far, everyone assumed that it was an MDC original. Very few smarter ones caught up on that, but the majority was scratching their heads. Slowly, the small intelligent percent explained to their oblivious colleagues what that meant.

“Yes, I’m MDC. It used to stand for Marinette Dupain-Cheng before I switched to Marinette Désign et Création.” She gazed over the crowd. “You can ask uncle Jagged if you see him.” She grinned. “Or Tim Drake. He has a signed CD. In fact…” She pulled her phone and made a quick tweet about the Wayne Gala on her MDC account.

“No…” The other Marinette starred in disbelief.

“Yes. I wanted to keep it a secret until I graduate, but someone forced me to unmask a bit earlier…” She glared at the impostor.

“No!” They screamed. Black bubbling energy covered them. Damian tried to stab with his sword and fell right through it, with his suit burning in several places. When it stabilized again, A teenager stood there. She looked mostly human, except her hair was fluorescent orange and her dress was torn in several places now. She had no accessories and her feet were bare. “You ruined everything! This was supposed to be my trip!”

Marinette took a battle stance, mentally giving herself a pat on the back for making her dress combat-ready. She didn’t bring the rope dart this evening since it would clash with her look, but she did put a small, almost unnoticeable sheethe with a knife on her left thigh. She quickly drew the blade and got ready.

“I will not be denied again!” The villain charged at Marinette. The girl tried to strike with her knife, but the blade broke on the first contact, shattering into small pieces that flew everywhere. Several cut her arm. In retaliation, the criminal delivered a punch that pushed all the air from her lungs and made her tumble.

Impostor was just preparing to deliver a final strike when suddenly a blade cut off her right hand before being stabbed through her calf, making her fall one one knee and pinning her to the ground.

Sabine was there, with fury on her face that would make demons run for cover and saints pray to God.

“No one.” She delivered a spin-kick at the downed enemy’s head. She tumbled down and spread like a run-over frog “Hurts.” Before the villain could catch the second wind, she pulled the sword from her calf and stabbed it deep into her left palm, pinning her into the ground. There was no blood whatsoever. “My daughter.” She spat on the impostor and stepped on her head with enough strength to knock out any normal human.

Just as her leg was supposed to give the villain a concussion, she turned into purple bubbling energy and moved. Sabine’s leg passed through the energy and her leg started to smoke a bit and turn red.

“That hurt!” The villain screamed once she reformed, all wounds gone like they were never there. A purple butterfly-shaped mask appeared over her face and the few people that knew what happened in Paris gasped. “Ugh! Fine!” She tried to lunge at Marinette, but a chair smashed into her head and batted her away like a baseball ball.

“Run!” Tom screamed at her daughter and charged with the chair. Marinette looked at her mother and Damian and all three nodded at the same time. Using the panic and people running away, they ducked into an empty corridor and locked the door.

“Tikki! Spots on!”

“Plagg! Claws out!”

“Roaar! Prowl!”

The light of three transformations was blinding. When it died, Sabine looked over the couple and noticed that she was the only one that had an unchanged outfit.

Damian’s outfit consisted of what were dark gray linen pants, a linen shirt with long sleeves and a hood with two folds on the top of his head that resembled cat ears. Over the shirt, he wore a black vest with dark-green finishes. On his left breast was a cat symbol. His forearms were wrapped with gray straps, over which he wore green armguards that reached a bit over the back of his hand. His dark-gray gloves had sharp claws at the end of each finger. His feet were covered with soft shoes that would make no sound as he moved. Behind him, a loose sash of gray imitated cat’s tail. The final touch was the black mask almost identical to what he wore as Robin, except the white eyes were green in this case. His baton was safely attached to his right thigh for easy access.

Marinette now wore a much more stealthy outfit. The core of it was black with dark-red accents. The boots that reached beyond mid-thigh had a single black spot on each vamp, knee, and at the top. There were dark red spots on each of her hips that doubled as some protection. Over her shoulders she wore a dark-red bolero with a black spot near her neck. The sleeves of her bolero ended just below her elbot and on each end was another black spot. She had an additional, very large black spot, on her back. A simple red mask covered her eyes. Her dark hair, which she wore loose these days, was tied into low twin ponytails with red ribbons. On each hand, she wore a red fingerless glove with a single spot on the wrists.

Sabine looked over the two of them. She immediately noted that Damian’s outfit was much more assassin-esque than the leather tights Chat Noir wore. Her daughter also looked more mature now.

“What happened to your outfit?” She asked, curious why the change happened now.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are connected. Since I’ve got a new cat, I have a new outfit.” She smiled.

“Black Cat. In the outfit, I’m Black Cat. Chat Noir was a bastard.”

“Um… Akuma?” Ladybug waved her hand toward the main room.

The three jumped out of the corridor to the pandemonium that was happening there.

------------

Masterlist // Next

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gyll-yee-haw · 4 years

Text

The most brilliant student

Professor! Beck smut

*Important*: I don't write for Tom or Peter, unless it's just teasing like this one. I'm loyal to daddy Jake and his characters only

Prompt: Mr. Beck is not pleased to see his most brilliant student flirting with someone else.

Warnings: teacher x student (legal and consensual), daddy kink, oral, masturbation, a little degradation, fucking in front of someone else

Like 2.7k words!

---

Peter was never able to hide the massive crush he had on you. You knew about it. But both of you agreed to be just friends. You would always tell him that he was too young for you, and he laughed, thinking it was some lame excuse.

Little did he know that you loved another man. And that the man was your physics professor, Mr. Beck. It was nothing but a platonic love, but your head kept playing tricks on you, trying to make you believe that there was a certain tension between the two of you.

Mr. Beck loved to praise you. He told all other students that they should work hard like you did. You always got the best grades in his class, you always knew the answers to his questions, you always came up with brilliant projects... Anyone could tell he was impressed by you.

But the situation became unbearable at some point. You started to dream about him, touch yourself thinking about him… You couldn't even pay attention to his classes anymore. You had to do something about it. And you weren't the kind of person who would give up without trying.

As the days passed, you started to tease Mr. Beck. At first, you would simply put on sexy outfits, drop things in front of him on purpose, make suggestive gestures around him. And more than once you caught him staring. It was working. But you needed to pressure him enough to make him yours.

And nothing makes a man like him want you more than seeing that someone else had you…

---

Peter's eyes widened when you sat on his lap.

"Y/N?"

"Shhh…" You looked at the door. Mr. Beck should arrive at any minute. "Just one moment, I promise."

When the professor walked into the classroom, his eyes landed directly on you, as usual. But this time, instead of smiling at him, you quickly turned your face to Peter, who was really confuse under you.

You waited until he started his class to finally go to your seat, beside Peter's.

"That was very nice, Y/N." Peter whispered to you. "But will you tell me what was that for?"

"For fun." You shrugged.

You and Peter continued talking for a few minutes, and whenever you looked at your professor, he pretended he didn't have his eyes glued to both of you. Until he had enough.

"Are you willing to share with the class what's so funny, miss Y/L/N?" Mr. Beck finally said. God, he looked furious.

"I'm sorry, professor." You bit your lip, trying to control your laughter. "It's not important."

"I know it's not important." His hands gripped so hard the paper he was reading, that it looked like it would rip at any moment. "It looks like nothing is important to you. You act like you weren't sitting where millions of other students would love to sit, and they wouldn't waste their opportunity like you're doing. I would like to see you after class."

"Both of us?" Peter asked, ashamed.

"I don't remember mentioning your name." The professor turned his eyes back to the paper. "Just her."

The boy sent you an apologetic look. But you couldn't help but smirk. That was all you wanted from the start, and you worked hard to get it. You would show him that you know how to enjoy your opportunities.

You never waited so eagerly for the bell. When it finally rang, you didn't move. Just watched the class getting empty, until there was only you and him. When everyone left, he sat on his chair and you approached his table, feeling your heart beating fast.

"What's going on?" He asked, without looking at you, just keeping his eyes on the table. "You used to be the best student in class. Why are you acting like that now?"

"Because I wanted your attention, Mr. Beck." You admited shily.

"You had my attention." He felt his stomach sink. "You had every teacher's attention, actually. You know… Tony Stark often looks for interns here. And you were the first on the list."

"But that's not the attention I wanted." You said, walking around the table to stand in front of him.

His eyes finally left his papers and traveled your body. Starting on your exposed thighs, stopping on your eyes.

"Be careful what you say next." He sighed. "Or I might have to put you in your place."

"Do it." You challenged him.

"Do what?" He stood up and spoke on a raspy tone, towering you. "Risk my job because of a little slut like you? I'm so disappointed. Do you know how many girls did the same, begging for a good grade? You don't need that, your grades are the best. So what do you want?"

"Did you fuck them?" You heard your voice crack a bit.

"Tempting." He shrugged. "But I didn't."

"But I'm not like them." You didn't take a step back when he approached you.

"I know." He said, lifting your chin with his hand and keeping his face dangerously close to yours. "You're in love. You're worse than them."

You didn't say anything. His lips only got closer and closer to yours, when they were close enough for you to feel his heat, he grabbed your face and turned your head to your left, making you gasp.

"I will not allow this behaviour in my class again." He said against your ear. "Tomorrow I want you to sit on the first row and dress up like a decent person, are we clear?"

His hand left your face, but you could still feel his grip, so you rubbed your cheeks while you watched him putting his stuff on his bag and leaving without looking back.

---

On the next day, you didn't want to go to college. You couldn't believe he told you that you were nothing but another slutty student trying to get laid. Your head kept repeating his words: "You're in love. You're worse than them."

On the other hand... You finally got his attention. And he didn't kick you out of his class, he actually told you to sit closer to him. He was playing your game, whether he knew it or not.

You jumped out of bed and searched for something to wear. You found a dress. A normal dress, it wasn't too short or anything. It wasn't about what you were going to wear, but how.

---

You left your house in a hurry and was relieved to see you were the first to arrive in your class. You took another look around, just to be sure you were alone. So you slid your hands under your dress and removed your panties, carefully placing them inside the drawer where Mr. Beck kept his pens. You didn't leave a note, or anything. He would know it was yours.

So you ran to your seat and opened a book at a random page, to pretend you were busy. But as the time passed, the heat between your legs only grew, imagining his face when he opened that drawer.

The class started to get crowded, and everyone took a quick look at you, probably remembering what happened yesterday. But, fuck, they had no idea what happened yesterday. And they knew even less about what was going to happen now.

Professor Beck walked in and started to give his lecture. He only looked at you once, to be sure you were sitting where he told you to. After that, he avoided you. The tension

increased everytime he stepped close to the drawer, but he never opened it.

At some point, he needed to write something down. Your legs were shaking in anticipation.

"Anne?" He called the girl sitting right beside you. "Can I borrow a pen for a second?"

The girl eagerly handed him the pen. You could see by the way she was acting that she was one of the girls who tried to seduce him before.

"Thanks, honey." He whispered, giving back her pen after writing something down.

You felt your face heating up. Honey?! You felt so stupid. All you wanted to do was walk to his desk, get your underwear back and leave that place.

You sat there angrily until you heard the bell. As soon as you did, you stood up and started to shove everything in your bag as fast as possible.

He noticed what you were doing, and walked towards you.

"You stay." He whispered.

"Excuse me, professor." You said loudly. "I can't be late for my next class."

"If you don't explain yourself, you'll get expelled." He said, making sure no one else was listening. "Is your stupid game still funny?"

You felt your heart stop for a second. What was he talking about? He never opened the drawer.

This time, when the classroom was empty, he pulled you by the arm, leading you to his desk. He opened the drawer and pulled your underwear out.

"What the fuck is this?" He squeezed it in his hand.

"How would I know?" You raised your eyebrows. "Anne probably forgot it there the last time you fucked her."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckled. "Then why did I see you doing this through the security camera this morning? You're lucky I deleted the tape."

"Why?" You asked, embarrased. "Don't you want me to get expelled?"

"Of course not." He threw your panties back in the drawer and closed it. "You're the most brilliant student I ever had. You only have this tiny problem… You're a bit of a whore, aren't you?"

"Mr. Beck… I…" You felt your pussy throb and prayed he wouldn't play you like the day before.

"Yes, you are." He brought his finger to your cheek, caressing it. "If I told you to get down on your knees right now and suck my cock you would, wouldn't you? Even though you're getting nothing in return."

"Yes, sir." You almost moaned, melting into his touch.

"Then get under my desk." He said, sitting on his chair. "We're expecting guests, hope you don't mind."

You hesitated for a second, but you knew he wouldn't risk his job, so you didn't worry about the guests. You got on your knees and crawled under his table. He moved the chair closer to the desk and removed his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

"Did I make you this hard, Mr. Beck?" You smirked.

"Yes, princess." He chuckled. "But there's no need to call me Mr. Beck here. You can call me daddy."

"Fuck." You whispered and looked at as cock, then at his face, waiting for approval.

On the second he nodded, you wrapped your lips around his head and started to lick him real good. You made eye contact with him and your tongue trailed down his length, and you opened your mouth, sucking his balls until he was a moaning mess. He reached for your hair and pulled your head back, grabbing his dick with the other hand and shoving it in your mouth.

"Ah, yes. Come in." Mr. Beck said, and you heard footsteps approaching, but kept taking him deeper in your mouth.

"Did you want to see me, professor?"

When you heard Peter's voice, you gagged.

"Easy, baby." Quentin patted your head, not giving a fuck about Peter's presence. "Take your time."

"Mr. Beck..." Peter said, turning red when he looked down and reconized your shoes under the table. "I can come back later."

"No, you're here just in time." He rested his hand on your head and stroked your hair gently as you started to move your head up and down. "Come here, take a look at this beauty."

Peter took a look under his desk and smirked. He smirked? You thought he would be hurt… That's why you never told him about your plan.

"You really are a slut, aren't you?" Peter asked, looking you in the eyes.

"Yes, she is." Mr. Beck said, since your mouth was busy. "But here's the thing… Yes, baby girl, fuck…"

He lost focus as you started sucking on his most sensitive area. So he pulled your hair, forcing you to stop.

"Here's the thing, Mr. Parker." He continued. "She's my most brilliant student. Mine. You don't get to touch her, are we clear? Cause if I see you touching my stuff again, you're expelled."

"Yes, sir…" He said a little uncomfortable.

"Good." He moved his chair so you could get up and grabbed your hand, helping you stand up. "Wanna touch yourself as you watch me fuck her now, Parker?"

Peter nodded eagerly.

"Is that okay for you, baby?" Beck asked you, stroking your face one more time.

"Yes, daddy." You smiled at him and Peter's jaw dropped.

"Good girl." He said. "Look at how fast you learn, my most brilliant student."

He helped you sit on his desk and you spread your legs. He slid his hand under your dress and started playing with your clit, making you moan loudly.

"That's right." He said, as he watched Peter taking his cock out. "She's not wearing any panties. Because she put them in my drawer today, can you believe this little brat?"

"I'm sorry, daddy!" You screamed as he rubbed you hard.

"Fuck." Peter said, stroking his cock just as fast.

"What?" Beck smirked. "Does it turn you on when she says 'daddy'?"

Peter nodded.

"Why don't you call him daddy too?" The professor asked you.

"Don't want to." You bit your lip and looked him in the eyes. "You are my daddy, just you."

"What a fucking good girl." He grabbed his cock and entered you at once. "All you needed was a little attention, isn't that right, baby?"

You held to the desk as he started to thrust fast and deep inside you. All while Peter kept his eyes glued to the two of you and pumped himself.

The three of you continued like that for a few more minutes, moans coming from everyone filling the room.

Peter was the first to come. When you saw him coming all over his hands, you started playing with your clit, but Mr. Beck removed your hand and started rubbing it with his fingers.

"Harder, daddy." You threw your head back. "I'm so close..."

"Come on my cock, princess." He said, rubbing you so hard and fucking you so fast. "Show your friend who you belong to."

You came moaning something close to "I belong to you, Mr, Beck." And he came right after you.

After he removed his cock, he watched his cum dripping from your hole on the table. He collected it with his fingers and shoved them in your mouth.

"You may leave now, Mr. Parker." He said, not taking his eyes off you as you sucked his fingers. "Just remember what will happen if I see you laying a finger on her again."

"Yes, sir." Peter fixed his clothes and left, looking at the floor.

You looked at your professor with a smile on your face and love in your eyes. There was no way you would forget him now.

"Only my best student gets to sit on my desk." He told you. "Don't forget that. Keep your grades impeccable, and one day you and I will work together. You have a bright future."

"If I'm a good student…" You asked shily. "Will we do this again?"

"You don't seem like a very good student right now." He shrugged. "You probably missed two or three classes today."

"Sorry, sir." You got off his table and grabbed your bag, walking towards the door quickly. "Wait… My panties?"

"Confiscated." He smirked.

---

Tags:

@thirstybitchtm (thank you for the request!)

@charmed-asylum

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #quentin beck x you #quentin beck x y/n #quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck smut #mysterio smut #mysterio #mysterio x y/n #mysterio x reader #mysterio x you #peter parker smut #quentin x peter

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Royally Screwed

Ivar+Princess! Reader (Modern AU)

(Secret Project: Happy Birthday Gabi!)

(A/N): Hello there lovelies!

We are all joined here together to celebrate @flowers-in-your-hayr‘s birthday!

So be sure to give the most beautiful and most talented moodboard creator ever a huge hug and wish her ‘Happy Birthday’ because she thoroughly deserve it.

We thought that to celebrate it writing you a few stories based on a few of your most beautiful moodboards (although it was rather difficult, because... I mean... THEY ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL).

I really really hope I have made justice to your beautiful creation!

Also this was a project created by the lovely @maggiescarborough give her a round of applause for her magnificient planning!

WARNINGS: Corny Stuff, Light Mentions to the ‘90s/00s, Not Correct Princess Etiquette and Ivar Just Being a Sassy Asshole).

Moodboard was created and is owned by @flowers-in-your-hayr

It had been a simple Friday night when a princess had entered in Ivar’s life.

But he hadn’t known it, in the slightest.

In the end, he wasn’t anything more than a store clerk at the Blockbuster his uncle Floki owned, since he needed money for college, because not only he had to deal with the absence of his father, but also his mother had recently passed away from a terrible illness, battling with addiction and its hold.

Any guy of his age would have been out, probably hooking up with somebody or taking part in the usual things that boys did when they were carefree and normal.

But Ivar had never been normal.

So, on Friday at 10 p.m. he was looking at the black and white screen of a security camera as he observed the last client of the night, before the typical porno-lovers came crashing in during his night shift.

Honestly, working at a Blockbuster taught you much more about people than a pyschology major could.

And Ivar who was graduating to become a psychanalyst certainly needed all the human expertise he could gain.

Usually at this hour, it was unusual that people entered the store, even more a pretty girl with everything that made her resemble Cher from ‘Clueless’, as she moved across the many sectors, sometimes pushing forward an hand to get a movie, before pushing it back in its place, as if the cover wasn’t what it promised from the plot, noted on its back.

He knew that he was a big creep for checking her out, but he didn’t trust pretty girls like you.

He had caught a few trying to slip DVDs, under their jackets, and it had been awful trying to confront them as they played the ‘dumb blondes’ act, meanwhile he sweated through his shirt because they had this look in them that made him feel beneath them.

It was always like that with pretty girls, for him.

Whether it’d be their pity or disgust, Ivar had never felt himself being treated like an equal.

Which had been all he had wanted, his entire life.

Luckily you didn’t slip anything in your jacket, and he was glad to see you exiting empty handed, probably having been called by your bootie call, at the last moment, because it honestly made no sense for you to be there, alone.

But she didn’t move to the exit door.

No, she moved to him.

Stopping right in front of the cash desk.

In front of him.

“Can I help you with something?” he kind of expected her to ask him some kind of dumb question, because of her entire material girl appeal, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks, clearly at unease.

Something the camera hadn’t caught.

“I have been…” she bit her lips, drawing them inside of her mouth, before releasing it in some kind of vapid gesture that would have made everybody else look like an old hag “… I was browsing through the movies and… I might need a hand to choose one”.

He kind of expected you to push him in front of the eternal dilemma of watching for the umpteenth time ‘Spice Girl-The Movie’ or watching some awful corny romantic shit that was so ‘en vogue’ these days.

“… I am more than happy to help” he knew his face said the opposite of what he had told her, but he just wanted to go back to the paper he had been filling for a college class, before you had come there.

Floki had once told me that he should have tried ‘to be nicer’ to clients.

But they all took a good look at Ivar’s legs and they’d be bought.

‘Of course, he is an asshole and shit store clerk…’ they’d say exiting the shop ‘… with those legs… poor him’.

And it just made him be meaner towards clients.

But he was in for a surprise.

Because behind your material girl attitude you exited two movies: ‘Notting Hill’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’, not exactly something that completely distanced you from his initial thoughts of you, but he couldn’t deny that the vintage options definitely surprised him.

“I have never watched either of them” she commented, softly, almost ashamed and Ivar couldn’t help but lower lightly his harsh glare trying to soften its edges.

It was obvious that as much as he hated ‘party girls’, he had misjudged you.

You didn’t seem the type who’d make Ivar life a living hell, if he refused to accept back DVDs smeared with lipsticks.

“Can’t take them both?” he simply blurted out because you seemed loaded from your wardrobe.

“Ahem… I…” she blushed so graciously that Ivar honestly hadn’t the heart to keep the teasing, and lowered his harsh gaze “… my brothers think that I am already a nerd for coming here, if I came back with more than one movie, well they…”.

“I do know something about brothers teasing you” he muttered, as she smiled so openly that it made him smirk lightly and he then proceeded to shift his attention away from your pretty naïve expression, because it was making him feel lightly sweaty…

… and blushy.

“I’d tell you that ‘Dirty Dancing’ is a classic, undoubtedly one of the trashest things to pass a night…” he couldn’t help but adore the light giggle she let out, as she moved a finger in her hair, lightly twisting a strand of hair against it, and ok…

… Ivar had always hated it when girls did, but Gosh… you were adorable.

“… but?” you asked, softly, understanding that he was stalling, as he grabbed ‘Notting Hill’ from you.

“But this is the real shit” he commented.

He knew that he didn’t seem the type who enjoyed those movies, but one some days of his job he was left with nothing to do and he had watched an awful lot of movies, starting to develop a certain passion for a few of them.

Some even that certainly wouldn’t have been approved by the Lothbrock clan.

But she was a stranger, somebody he wouldn’t have ever seen again.

So, he could confess her all the qualities of Notting Hill, meanwhile she looked at him truly enthralled by what he said.

“… boy meets girl, except she is just a superstar actress, and then… they meet again and they fall out and… it certainly gives you a lot of reasons not go out with a public celebrity” he muttered, seeing that tic of biting her lips return, as she grimaced lightly at his words, but eventually she smiled at him, getting the money from her pockets to rent it.

“Ok, you got me hooked up on it”.

He moved to take the money as he registered the loan, but he caught her looking at the ‘Dirty Dancing’ DVD, as if she was extremely sad that she couldn’t take it home, alongside ‘Notting Hill’.

He damned himself for pretty girls and their twirling fingers, having everything wrapped around them.

“What if I push ‘Dirty Dancing’ aside for you?” he asked.

It wasn’t against any policy, but he usually didn’t do any favor to the clients, preferring to simply register their loans or what they had bought.

But he knew what it meant to ache for a little comfort, in life.

For a soft and free gentleness.

“Oh… is that possible?” she seemed honestly surprised he’d do it for her, as if people had never been selflessly gentle with her “Because if it is, I’d love that”.

“Don’t worry” he muttered, as he moved to push the DVD of ‘Dirty Dancing’ under the cash desk, taking a small piece of paper “… just give me a name and phone number”.

She seemed unsure, and he couldn’t blame her: he could be a creep simply asking for a phone number.

But she ended up giving it to him, as he registered it quickly, under her name and he then added the small paper inside the DVD box, again hiding under the cash desk, so that Floki would know that it wasn’t simply a mismatched edition.

“Thank you very much” her tone was again damnably genuine, and Ivar couldn’t fight against the small smirk that appeared on his face.

“Ahh don’t worry, everybody these days, is just interested in the umpteenth rerun of Beverly Hills 90210, so you haven’t made me lose any money” he replied, trying to seem the most detached he could “… just come back next week, letting me know how much your brothers enjoyed it”.

She erupted in a little giddy laughter and he honestly swore that there and then, his heart had stopped for a minute beating, before she took in the bag from his hand, after he had eased off the security measures and given her the small piece of paper with the return date.

“I do think that they’ll cry more than me” she muttered softly before she turned towards the door and Ivar felt like he could breathe again.

And then she twirled another time, the movement lightly making her skirt raise a bit, as he stole a sneaky glance at your thighs.

Gosh, Hvitserk was right, he had a problem.

“Have a nice night!”.

Hadn’t he been smitten with her, already, he’d just have replied something torturously awful, such as ‘thank you, I’ll enjoy having to deal with couples looking a way to spice up their lives with awful porn videos’.

But he simply smiled, the creepiest smile he could deliver since he could see it on the reflecting surface of the glass doors of the shop, as he simply waved slowly his hand to salute her, and then she rushed outside, to an awaiting car.

An awaiting expensive car.

And Ivar fell back on his chair.

And thought about why the heck his heart wouldn’t stop beating that fast.

A few days later he was watching TV with that fucktard of Heahmund, his college roomie.

They hadn’t exactly chosen to be roommates, but Heahmund had been kicked out by too many religious confraternities to have the luxury of a choice.

So, Ivar had been assigned to him, because of his perfect behavior during his college years, hoping it’d influence the other man.

They had begrudgingly set up some rules, and although Ivar hadn’t still got used to Heahmund’s silly faith, they hadn’t killed each other in their sleep yet.

He was watching TV, as he tried to compile an email for his brothers to let them know that they should have worked harder to get back their legacy from Lagertha, who had screwed over their father and mother, and then he saw her, the girl from the store, on TV.

It was definitely because he recognized her thighs.

Gosh, he was a fucking pervert.

She was dressed in an elegant suit, with a tube skirt and an elegant white shirt, matched perfectly with the light blue of the entire ensemble and with your hair brought up in a rather royal hairstyle.

Perfect for the crown nestled on top of her head.

A glimmering tiara on it.

“Turn the fucking volume on” he muttered at a very stoned Heahmund, who was looking half-mindedly the TV, just shooting a confused look at Ivar, who just stole the TV remote from his hand to switch on the audio, catching right when a journalist moved to ask you in the secluded area of what looked like a non-American talk-show with subtitles.

And even your voice corresponded.

“So, you are going to America next week, am I right? Aren’t you excited?” the interviewer asked as if she was the more excited about it of the two, meanwhile the girl from the store (or maybe it was better to say ‘the princess from the store’) smiled awkwardly, definitely not at ease with the affectionate tone of the journalist.

“Yes, of course! I mean it’s America!” the laughter of her reply sounded so fake, that Ivar couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the awkwardness of the situation “… I am just glad to leave home for the first time”.

The last mumble still was sincere, and pretty quickly the interview was cut, bringing it to a more general scheme, which said it all about the mysterious princess of some strange country he had never heard of.

Born and raised inside of a palace, she had two older brothers to whom the crown wouldn’t have been passed down, since the line was transmitted through mother-to-daughter, and she’d be taking the crown at the age of twenty-five, replacing her father’s regency, after her mother’s death.

Why did it have to sound so much like ‘Cinderella’?

Unlike her brothers, she was known for being private about her life, having graduated in a private university in England, early, and being involved in a few humanitarian projects.

She’d be staying in America for a few weeks both to explore the country and to talk about modern matters with a few of politicians, to also expose the openness of her native country.

And Ivar had met you in the shithole of his uncle’s store.

He had always thought that Hugh Grant was a fucking idiot in ‘Notting Hill’ after he had met Julia Roberts’ character, but Gosh… he was glad he hadn’t you in front of him, in that moment, because he’d have probably asked her too if you wanted ‘peaches with honey’.

The focus of the reportage was now onto her again, changed in much more comfortable clothes, although they undoubtedly looked expensive.

She smiled at the camera and then bit her lips, lightly, but definitely showing she wasn’t used to this kind of attention on herself, and he couldn’t blame her, since he had the same problem with barely his family.

‘I really hope to find a second home in America” she closed the interview, waving softly her goodbyes with a soft kiss.

And then Heahmund had to ruin his fantasy.

“You know where you can find a new home? On my…” and before he could complete the awful phrase, Ivar hit him in his head with the remote “… ouch, what the fucking hell?!”.

“Next time be a gentleman” simply mumbled Ivar.

“Is that what your mommy taught you, Ivar dear?” grimaced Heahmund in a sickly sweet tone but Ivar didn’t accept the provocation, simply ignoring his roommate, who went back to his observing of the screen without no noise, as if he was trying to communicate with it.

He should have seriously thought about renting an apartment with Hvitserk, as his brother had suggested.

And he should have thought about having to face her again, with the knowledge that you were a princess.

That Friday night he had been secretly praying she wouldn’t show up, that the phone number was fake and that it was just a big trip of his stupid mind.

But she did show up, this time in a different mise: something like a mixed version between Madonna in her videoclip of ‘Like a Virgin’ and some grunge aesthetic mixed up with the inevitable touch of her ‘material girl’ appearance.

She immediately approached the cash clerk, saluting him as if he was an old friend.

And he, like an idiot, did the waving right back.

‘C’mon, Ivar it isn’t going to be so bad’ he tried to calm himself down ‘… just start a normal conversation, avoid mentioning that she is a princess and give her the damned DVD’.

“Hi” she mumbled softly as he moved to promptly grab the DVD “Thank you for the suggestion! I loved it… the entire interview thing… and ‘I am just a girl…’… but I am blabbering”.

“Ahem no no” he reassured her, shaking his head, as he tried to shake himself out of the stupor of having a princess in his store “… I am glad you liked it”.

“Well, thank you for the suggestion” she shot back, definitely not at ease with awkward silence “… now can I get ‘Dirty Dancing’?”.

“Of course, your highness” it might have passed off as a simple sarcastic joke, but his tone went suddenly serious, and her eyes rushed to his, nervous, obviously even more at unease, after she had been discovered.

“… Gosh… you have seen the shit on TV, haven’t you?”.

He didn’t know whether to be more impressed by the fact that she had read through him immediately or that she had said ‘shit’.

Were princesses even allowed to say that?

“… yeah” he muttered back, as she looked up at the roof, before she uttered down a big huff.

“Please do me a favor and just… don’t tell anybody that I was here”.

“I don’t think that anybody would ever believe me” he shot back, wondering whether he should have respected any etiquette and curtsied to her.

But if she was trying to hide her true identity it probably meant she didn’t want to be treated as a princess.

And she smiled at his comment.

“Thank you, not that I have anything against this place, I honestly like it, and wouldn’t want to move away, again…” she explained calmly, her hands again going to her hair.

“It must be hard” he commented, lightly sarcastic, as he passed the ‘Dirty Dancing’ DVD, unloading the safety on it “… Gosh, don’t you have a better way to pass a Friday night?”.

His tone was harsh, but she didn’t back down, as she held his gaze.

Her tenderness definitely had a limit.

“… I am not one for the parties my brothers attend” she smirked sadly, as she pushed back herself from the counter, lightly adjusting the leather jacket she was wearing over her shoulders “… and every diplomatic event I was supposed to be at, either was too boring or people assumed that I was the waitress”.

“Certainly not because of your impeccable sense of style” he complimented her, a light dash of blush immediately on her cheeks, as she set her eyes on her heeled mary-janes.

“I do have to say that if I walked in dressed like this, they’d probably call security” she mumbled, again giving him a twirl of her skirt “… but thank you for having taste, one of the few things that I like doing in America is dressing as crazily as I want to”.

“If you think that it crazy, sweetheart, you haven’t seen nothing yet” he replied tightly, raising his eyes to meet hers, finding them truly amused, before a sudden light appeared in her eyes, a mischievous light.

“When do you end your shift?” she asked, pushing herself on the rubber tips of her mary-janes as Ivar tried to calm himself down from the fact that a pretty girl, a princess actually, had just asked him out… or so he thought.

“In an hour” Floki had given him a shorter shift, due to the fact that he had told him he’d need a bit of time to study for an important exam, which would be happening on Monday “… but I wouldn’t suggest you hanging out with me, I suck at the conversation stuff”.

“But your taste in movies is good” she retorted as one of her hands moved on the cash desk.

“I could be a psycho”.

“A psycho wouldn’t say that”.

He couldn’t understand the reason behind why she’d want to hang out with him.

She was a princess.

He was a store clerk with a genetic disease and an awful personality.

Things like this only happened in movies and fairytales

“… but if you don’t want to hang out with me, I get it…” she seemed low key used to it, as if it wasn’t unusual for pretty princess like her to get rejected “… just forgive me, I’ll go back and watch ‘Dirty Dancing’, alone…”.

“Don’t make me feel guilty” he muttered under his breath “… I’ll hang with you, but you have to promise me that you’ll watch a few good movies”.

“I have an hour to kill”.

Her smile had him by the balls.

And he knew he was royally screwed.

After waiting for an hour, watching ‘Dirty Dancing’ on the store TV, Ivar finished his turn and he locked the shop beside him, as she waited for him outside, smirking.

She hadn’t seemed too fazed by Ivar’s legs, as she had seen them, and if she was, she didn’t show it on her face and she looked completely at ease, outside, although she pushed the hood of her hoodie over her head, to hide her face.

“Aren’t you seriously worried that I might turn out to be a psycho?” Ivar asked, sure that there would be more behind all of this.

She could actually be the psycho.

And yet he couldn’t push himself away from her.

“I don’t get those vibes from you, and no offense…” she shot a quick look at her legs “…but I was on the run team”.

“Gosh, are you even real?” he threw back, as he led her inside to the nicest fast food chain, still open.

“My brothers say that I am from another era” she joked, as she sat down in front of him meanwhile he busied himself from the menu, more to hide himself than because he needed to check it out, since he basically lived in this place “… one where girls hid behind folding fans and wore petticoats”.

“What the hell is a petticoat?” he mumbled, but they were interrupted by the waitress asking their orders, sending Ivar an impressed look, as he hid further in the menu.

They spent a few more minutes in a comfortable small talk, talking about whatever ran around their mind, in a strange and natural chemistry that flooded, as she muttered of everything in the least princess-y style.

But her impeccable manners immediately came back, as she tried to cut through a burger with her knife and fork, making Ivar inevitably laugh, and he had to explain her that in America ‘eating with your hands is proper’.

“… America is strange” she mumbled lightly.

“You can say so”.

But he was soon distracted by the way she moved to eat the burger, very very much surprised that a princess could be so disgraceful.

“… don’t laugh… please” she mumbled as soon as she realized that he was staring “… my brothers bullied me for it”.

“Something that we have in common” he replied directly.

“You also were bullied by your brothers?” she asked surprisedly.

“Yeah and I hadn’t simply two… but four”.

“Wow, your mother deserves an award”.

“She would have loved that” a slight ghost of pain appeared in his eyes as he shielded them away from her, but she caught it just in time.

“I am sorry” she seemed honestly moved by what he had just said, sending him a soft look.

“Thanks” he muttered, before rushing to shift the attention away “… so do you have any weird habits that I should know of, uptown girl?”.

“Now you are being a psycho” she replied, as she pushed herself up from the drink she was gulping down.

“I told you”.

They both erupted in laughter, which kept happening also after they left the fast food restaurant so Ivar could accompany her back to her hotel.

‘You don’t have to’ she had tried to persuade him, again that expression of surprise at him being nice with her ‘… I’ll just get a taxi’.

‘I do think that you’ll take more to call a taxi than to arrive by feet’ he had shot back ‘… and also, as the true psycho that I am… I have to see where you live so that I can send you black dahlias, each day’.

She had just told him that if he wanted to send her anything, he should have thought about sunflowers.

‘They are my favorites!’.

At the entrance of the expensive hotel, they both were stalling, as if neither of them wanted to leave.

“It was nice…” he muttered, looking down at his doc martens “… I mean…”.

“I totally get it” she stopped him softly “… tonight I had the most fun I have had since I came in America”.

“Gosh, then you seriously had a shitty experience!”.

Again laughter, and then an obnoxious sound trilling through their soft awkward laughs, making her reach out in her pockets and get out a small bedazzled cellphone, making Ivar laugh, as she shushed him with a quick look, before she moved to reply.

“… yeah yeah, I am at the hotel” she muttered quickly in English, before she moved in a softer tone and in a different language, although from her voice, she was annoyed with whoever had called her, eventually ending the call as the other person was still talking to her.

She just sent him a quick look, before shaking her head.

“… my brothers just got back from a party and didn’t find him inside”.

“Don’t you have bodyguards?” he had been surprised by how freely she was allowed to go outside.

“Ahem… I might have sent them to get me food and then escaped the room” he sent you an impressed look “… that is what happens when people think that you aren’t some kind of ‘rebellious party girl’ “.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he smirked lightly, making her giggle.

That sound honestly would have lulled him to sleep, that night.

“Thank you…” her mutter was so soft, that he was sure that the light nightly breeze would have swept it away from him “… not solely for keeping the secrets, but also for the good night”.

“It was my pleasure, your highness” he retorted with a haughty look, as she just shot him light smirk before she pushed her shoulder straighter in a truly royal pose.

And she commented before slipping inside.

“It’s your Brilliance, actually”.

And Ivar wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it or it was real.

Either way, he went to sleep with a smile on his face.

She kept on showing up to his work, to the point that Floki asked him, if ‘his crippled ass had finally gotten himself a pretty girl’.

But he had simply replied that she was just somebody who had started sticking around him.

‘Whatever you say, asshole’ had replied Floki with a wink, before she came to gain a few movie suggestions, and as soon as his turn was over, she’d be already waiting, either a leather jacket or a denim one on her shoulders, for them to discover the newest and greasiest fast food, America could offer.

He had once muttered about how he never thought that princesses enjoyed ‘that shit’.

‘I have been feeding on broccolis, since I was five’ she had retorted with a stern look ‘… I’ll take “that shit” over everything else’.

He had discovered that being a princess wasn’t in the slightest as amazing as he had thought, but still she couldn’t deny that many of the chances she got in life were because of her titles.

Which just made it all worse.

‘I never know if people are truly nice with me because they truly like me or if they… do it because I am a princess’ she had been playing with her food, suddenly sated, as she hid her eyes from him ‘… and they want something from me’.

He knew that she was examining him still, almost as if to see in which one of the sections he fell in.

‘Yeah, you know, it’d be nice, if her royal Brilliance paid for her burgers’ he had retorted, as she had giggled lightly, before she had gone one step further and paid for the all the fast food clients of the night, getting a crazed look from their waitress, meanwhile Ivar’s open mouth fell almost to his feet.

They then had to rush off, since it wouldn’t undoubtedly attract curious eyes.

Some days they’d just crack up jokes and talk about movies and sometimes they’d sit in comfortable silence, needing simply a look to be understood.

It took Ivar a whole week to fall in love with a princess.

He couldn’t deny that whenever she’d smile at him, his heart almost wanted to jump out of this chest.

And whenever they’d have to separate, because she had to go back, he’d be left almost dealing with the side effects of it.

But although his feelings were as evident as ever, he had to hide them from her.

Because, although she might have found a perfect jester in Ivar, she wasn’t the type of girl that went for the cripple.

And she had a crown to keep on her head.

So, it was fun while it lasted.

But when it wouldn’t, anymore…

… it’d break his heart.

That day he had noticed that she didn’t look as comfortable as the previous nights, her mind pushed off away from him, almost as if she was hiding it from him, because she knew that her eyes would reveal all the truth.

And her replies were as weak as your laugh.

And he had had enough.

“… did you lose your crown, in all your designer clothes?” he had harshly commented, although he knew that she wouldn’t take it personally.

“I am going back tomorrow” she revealed, finally raising her face, her lips pushed in a grimace, almost as if the words tasted sour in her mouth “… I have nothing more to do, and I’ll go back, since I have more etiquette lessons to attend”.

The joke didn’t sound half as funny as it should have been, almost being choked in her mouth.

And Ivar couldn’t help but say nothing.

He knew that it’d happen…

… but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

And so abruptly.

“I have a flight at 5 p.m., tomorrow, so I don’t think that there’ll be any other nightly rampages” again nothing in her tone sounded as joyful as it should have been.

He was glad he wouldn’t be the only one feeling like shit.

In the first days, he had simply believed that after she’d be leaving him, everything would go back to how it was.

It’d be just ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.

But right now… he didn’t know if he could go back to a time before her.

If he wanted to go back

Because although it hurt, the thought of having lived those moments.

They almost warmed up his cold and dark heart.

“I’ll miss you” it was the closest he could come to admitting his feelings

And before he knew it, she was bringing him in a tight hug, something wet staining his stupid work uniform, but he didn’t care as he held her tighter

There weren’t many words as you said ‘goodbye’, in a light and soft way, almost as if they both didn’t believe it.

But it had to happen.

And yet, as he woke up that morning, with the beautiful sound of his awful roommate bumping in the coffee table, he couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t see her lounging annoyedly by the cash desk, asking him with her fluttery eyes whether they’d be leaving soon or she had the time to watch ‘Grease’.

He wouldn’t have anybody to tease, because she could ride horses but still was scared of dogs, hiding behind Ivar.

And he wouldn’t have anybody that truly understood him.

But what was truly eating him inside was the fact that she’d go without knowing truly how he felt about her.

He had hated the main character of any rom-com, who did amazing but stupid things, because they certainly didn’t work in real life.

There were a few thousands reasons why he might have trouble getting past the security measures at the airport, just to tell her ‘I really like you’.

And to be rejected in front of anybody?

He wasn’t Jerry McGuire.

Although you were prettier than Reneé Zellweger.

One more reason not to run at the airport and get dumped there.

And then he heard a knocking on the door.

He hoped it wasn’t Ubbe with his monthly check, because his house smelled like pot and he had some girl’s underwear on his sofa.

But it was worse: it was you.

“Before you accuse me of stalking, Floki gave me your address, yesterday” she commented promptly, decked in definitely a more elegant assemble than the ones you usually wore, with a long trench-coat hiding a lilac sweater and a checkered skirt.

“… I… I’ll kill Floki” he would have definitely.

And then set fire to the fucking store.

“Oh c’mon, he seems a nice boss” she replied, biting her lips, a dash of natural blush on her adorable cheeks.

“… he gave my address to a stranger”.

“A royal stranger” she reminded him “Not that I don’t love talking here, but my heels are killing me, so can I move inside?”.

He took in a deep breath, before pinching his hip, to assure himself this wasn’t a dream, and he ducked his head, inside to see if Heahmund had passed out on the floor or he had reached his room safely.

“Yeah, but just… close your eyes, I’ll guide you”.

“You went back to the creepy questions” but she still closed her eyes as she stepped inside, immediately sniffling the air around “… nice smell”.

“Thank you, it’s pot” he mumbled, rushing in his room, as she giggled beside him.

And when they were both inside, he couldn’t help but realize that he had his own Anna Scott, in his own house.

And he wasn’t acting any better than Hugh Grant.

As he sat down on his bed, she circled his room, curiosity shining in her eyes, as if it was a completely different and exciting world for her.

“Not that I don’t mind seeing your royal ass, but… what are you doing here?” he asked, a bit harsh, because he couldn’t help but feel insecure about this entire situation “… don’t you have an airplane to take?”.

“I couldn’t” she mumbled, almost as if it was the most natural thing “… my brothers are going back, I have… I have asked around and I’ll stick here to be a diplomatic”.

This time it was Ivar who bit his lips, nervously.

‘Don’t think that she has done it for you!’.

“Good! I can give you a proper education on cinematographic masterpieces”.

They both erupted in an awkward laugh, but then she moved closer to him, sitting down beside him on his bed.

That was the closest he had ever come to a woman.

“… I was hoping… but maybe… I got it all wrong…” she stammered through her words “… but I really like spending time with you, and it makes me feel normal…”.

He looked at her as if she was revealing him some universal truth.

“… and that isn’t something that many people have made me feel like…I always… I’d just like to maybe get to know you more than simply for your favorite movies…”.

That still didn’t mean anything.

“Ok” he mumbled “… but we can do it over emails”.

She looked up at the roof of the room, as if she was exasperated that he wasn’t simply getting it.

And finally, she smashed her lips against his.

And his body was definitely faster than his mind, gently bringing him closer as their mouths met again and again, till they were breathless, but she still uttered.

“Can you do that through emails?”.

Five years later, a crown on her head and a ring on her fingers, Ivar was standing at the other end of a big altar in a meek and private church of your native country.

It wasn’t exactly private, if he thought about all the cameras carefully set up everywhere to broadcast the royal wedding live.

But he had married a princess.

So, what could he have truly expected?

His princess had stayed in America for a year, before being called back to your country, but Ivar had moved back to your native country with her, having converted his degree into one that could be followed online.

Except that he hadn’t much to leave behind, starting a great adventure, with her.

His brothers? They would have been fine without him, even better.

His grudge against Lagertha? He could still operate better from another country.

Floki? He, himself, had told him to move the fuck away and get himself the princess.

In the end, there wasn’t anything holding him back and certainly his mother would have just approved.

She would have greatly approved his princess.

Who didn’t approve of this marriage was… her father.

He hadn’t said much when she had come back with a common boy, even more… a cripple.

But he hadn’t been truly problematic till you had mentioned your willingness to marry Ivar, after he had asked you the faithful question.

He hadn’t expected your father’s resistance, although he should have predicted it.

But in a few days the question had moved from a simple ‘no’, to a question of power and dynasty, since her father had stopped her from legally marrying Ivar.

And then she had told him that if he did forbid her from marrying Ivar, she would have gladly forsaken the crown.

Ivar had then told her to just forget about him, almost booked his travel back to America with a heavy heart, but he had thought to make the right choice, the brave one.

And the following day he had found her with her suitcase done and a ticket back to America, with him.

Then her father had started seeing the light, even more because her brothers, who teased Ivar endlessly, had pushed back their own right to the crown, forsaking it, if she ended up being dethroned.

And in the end her father had allowed the wedding.

‘You’ll regret it’ had mumbled her father but she had just smiled.

And Ivar now felt horridly stuck between two fires.

At unease in his elegant designer suit, as Helga held him close, since she had insisted on supporting him, alongside Floki and his brothers, who had come there for it, meeting his soon-to-be-bride a few days before the wedding.

It was useless to say they had all been impressed.

Although his family was more wanted by her, than actually him.

It just made him feel more nervous.

And he had to admit that he had been having a bad case of cold feet since the previous night.

It just…

He wasn’t used to be under the scrutiny of thousands of thousands of people.

They were probably thinking ‘look at this idiotic princess, falling in love with a cripple with anger issues’.

And then she walked in, hand in hand with her father.

He knew that she’d wear something that would look amazingly on her, some tulle atrocity, but in the end, it turned to be even more stunning than he had thought.

The dress didn’t make her seem like a cake, but instead elegantly slid down her body in a long and elegant trail, decorated with trims of lace that hid her face.

But he could still see her energetic smile.

Her honest smile.

And the cold feet melted with the floor under them, as he smiled right back at her, sure of what was going to happen.

Sure, that he wanted this royal wedding.

As she came by his side, silence following him, he finally breathed.

Loudly.

Making her laugh lightly, as she joined their hands, although it wasn’t protocol.

But when had she ever cared about it?

“We are here reunited to join princess (Y/N) of (N/C) and Ivar Lothbrock for the prosperity of the reign”.

Ivar couldn’t listen anymore to judge of peace you had chosen, since Ivar wasn’t catholic, another break in the protocol.

And he did another, as he gently whispered in your hear.

‘You are lovelier now than you have ever been’.

“Don’t be corny” she mumbled keeping her head straighter, as she faked listening to judge.

“I was just quoting Notting Hill” he replied, pouting lightly and faking of being perfectly still for the camera.

“After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her” she retorted, and he cracked up a light laugh.

“Will you leave the ‘don’t put baby in a corner’ for the vows?” he joked, gaining an enormous side-eye by his father-in-law.

“Just you wait, prince Ivar, just you wait”.

---

(Ivar Taglist)

@youbloodymadgenius @alexhandersenx @peaceisadirtyword @fckingdiva

#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Fluff #Fluff #Modern! Ivar #Modern AU #Ivar Lothbrock #Ivar Lothbrock Imagine #Ivar Ragnarrson #Ivar Ragnarsson Imagine #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.7

Part 7 of WINTW? :D Enjoy! there’s a bit of a trigger warning here but only very minor~

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 8

It was a rather long ride and with Bokuto being your seatmate, it was impossible to feel drowsiness. With the onigiri long gone, the both of you were now chatting about random things. Occasionally, the two of you would snicker and high five at certain topics. The rest of the team found it amazing how you had managed to keep up with their hyper owl of a captain.

“Then I was like ‘baammm’ but the opponent touched the ball and then their setter went ‘whoosh’ and tossed the ball to their spiker!” Bokuto’s eyes were shimmering with happiness at the chance to relive a few of his earlier matches.

“Were you able to stop the ball, Bokuto-san?” In all honesty, you were genuinely curious. Listening to an athlete play the sport he loved, without the use of quirks or support gears was amazing.

“I did!” He pumped his fist into the air. “I ain’t an ace for nothing!”

When he winked, you were positive about what he was going to do next. Imitating his action, his smile grew even wider. Together, the both of you did his phrase.

“HEY HEY HEY!” Followed by laughter.

“Oh!” You reached out for your phone and clicked on the camera app. “Let’s take a selfie, Bokuto-san! I have a friend and I think she’d die when she sees your sitting beside me~”

“That’s evil, (y/n)...” He paused dramatically. “I LIKE IT!”

Meanwhile, 3 rows behind, the same person who had just lost Y200 began to fiddle with his fingers once again. His eyes focused on the seat beside his childhood friend’s. He had to admit that you were handling Bokuto like a seasoned zoo keeper, though. But when it came to the point where you asked for a selfie, both his and Haruki’s ears reacted.

“Oho~ That might just be a cover up, my dear calm kohai~” He nudged Akaashi’s elbow.

“It’s just a picture. And she said it’s for her friend.”

“She said her ex was Ushiwaka, right?” Hearing a hum, Haruki closed his music app and opened the PortraitBook. “Tendou from Shiratorizawa sent me this. Said that they rarely took pictures together but this one had to be Ushiwaka’s personal favorite.”

Furrowing his brow, Akaashi asked permission to hold the phone. Zooming on the picture, he stared at your smiling face and how you looked so tiny compared to the ace of the other school. Tilting his head, he zoomed in and out of the picture. His mind showing pictures of your smile.

“If you zoom in anymore, Ushiwaka might come to life, Akaashi.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He handed the phone back and leaned on to the back rest.

“But, like, are you chill with Bokuto and her though?”

“I see no need to be annoyed. Bokuto-san knows I li-” Snapping his head towards the smug libero, he cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “Bokuto-san is just doing that to rile me up.”

“It’s definitely working.”

“I’ll give credit where credit is due.” He lowered his voice and peeked at Bokuto’s broad shoulders. “It is.”

“ACHOO!” Bokuto sneezed onto his elbow. He knew exactly what was happening. “Someone’s talking behind my back!”

Grabbing a tissue from your bag, you handed it to him. He looked like a small child blowing his nose. Wanting to cheer him up a bit, you decided it would be alright to play with your quirk a little bit.

“Bokuto-san~” Gesturing him to come closer, the big man followed. “I have a secret~”

“What? What? What?” His golden eyes were wide with anticipation.

“I’m a magician!”

“EHHH?!”

Pretending to rummage in your bag, you showed him your palms and he nodded that you weren’t holding onto a string or anything. Letting him feel your palms, you couldn’t help but giggle at his focus. His palms were also very calloused from all the practices.

“So I have nothing on me, right Bokuto-san?” He hummed and nodded his head like a puppy. Waving your hands around his face, his irises followed your palms. Making sure that only a minuscule amount of your quirk will be used, you pressed your palms together. “Look~”

When you showed him your palms, little glowing orbs of yellow began to dance as you delicately, but awkwardly, waved your hands. It was adorable seeing his reaction shifting from surprise, wonder, amazement and disbelief at the sight before him. Pressing your palms back together, you focused all the tiny orbs into one slightly bigger orb. Revealing to him the little ball of light, you could hear the happiness in his voice.

“THAT’S SO COOL (Y/N)!” He was bouncing up and down his seat. “Where and how did you learn that?”

“Just had a few friends in UA who liked magic as well.” Rubbing your palms together, the ball of light disappeared.

“Does Akaasshi know you can do that?”

“Nope~” You gave him a teasing smile. “This’ll be our little secret, Bokuto-san~”

“Your secret is safe with me (y/n)!” Giving you a fist bump, you happily responded. Before any of you could speak up, the coach gave an announcement. The gym was now an estimated 2 minutes away so it was best to prepare your luggages for faster processing and unloading from the bus. Everyone followed suit. “Gah. I can’t wait for you to meet the others, (y/n)-chan~ I’m sure you’ll like all of them! Make sure to go to gym 3 later! I think Akaashee would be even more energetic if you were our ball person~”

“I highly doubt that, Bokuto-san~ All of you have more than enough energy as it is.” The small tingling feeling in your stomach was there again. Waving it off, Bokuto merely ruffled your hair and shrugged at your statement.

When the bus finally stopped, the coach gave a few last minute instructions. Each member finished his sentences knowing full well what they had to do already. Not even complaining, the coach chuckled and told his little nest of owls to scurry their asses off to the registration area.

Following the two women, you were now settling into your tiny area. Not long after, the doors opened once more and you were face to face with a cute blondie and a ridiculously beautiful girl who wore glasses. Yukie and Kaori told you to come over and introduced you.

“You can call me, Yachi!” Yachi extended her hand to which you accepted. “This is my second camp for this year~”

“I’m Kiyoko, nice to meet you.” You felt like dirt accepting her hand. Yet, she was exuding a very kind aura so there wasn’t much to worry about. “Let’s have fun with our time together~”

Nodding at her statement, you couldn’t help but feel as though you’ve heard her voice somewhere. Maybe not in the same range of tone but it was something you couldn’t place. Deciding that it was nothing, all five of you were now changing into your clothes. The two managers from Karasuno couldn’t help but stare at your battle scars.

“No need to apologize, you two.” You shook your palms as they bowed to apologize. “It’s not like I’m ashamed of these anyway. Just shows I survived and made it through the rough times.”

“How did you really get that scar, (y/n)?” Kaori asked. Her tone a little held back.

“I was on my way home one night. It was already a bit late since we had to finish a school project. A few blocks from my school, I kinda began to feel that I was being followed. So, when I made a run for it, my thoughts were confirmed. I wasn’t that active then so the man caught me and tried to touch me.” This wasn’t the best story you could make considering how others could have experienced the whole thing. However, this was also the most probable situation you could think of that was enough for them to actually believe you. “I kicked him in the balls but it only angered him. Next thing I knew, I was screaming and luckily there was a convenience store nearby.”

All of them were speechless. It wasn’t everyday they would hear stories like that first hand like that.

“C’mon now~” You tried to brighten up the mood. “That was years ago and it only made me stronger.”

After a few guilt infested encouragement, all of you were now heading to the main gym. From afar, you could already hear the sounds of volleyballs slamming the floor, sneakers squeaking, praises and yelling.

The gym doors were wide open so all of you simply walked in. When you did, all eyes were on you. It was a sight to behold. A gym with sweaty athletic men. Not even UA prepared you for being feasted upon so many eyes.

“That happens when there’s a new manager.” Yukie whispered. “You’re in for a lot of questions when it’s break time later. Be prepared.”

Heading to Fukurodani’s court, Bokuto waved for you to be on his side. Following instructions, you positioned yourself ready to catched the balls. And you had to admit, you had the best view of all. A close up of how the BokuAka works during a match.

To say the least, it was jaw-droppingly beautiful how the two opposites worked together. The level of trust between them was admirable. This was also the day where you got to see Bokuto’s infamous emo mode. There were a few giggles with how he was acting but overall, the game went well and Fukurodani won by 25-23.

Gathering a few stary balls, you crouched down only to have your fingertips brush with another person’s.

“Well aren’t you even cuter up close~” Looking up at the stranger, you were met with messy bed hair, cat like eyes, and a very flirty smile. Yet, the reason for the blush reaching your cheeks was not due to the Nekoma player’s good looks. It was due to the familiarity of his voice. You could tell that voice from a mile away.

‘Holy shit. HE SOUNDS JUST LIKE HAWKS.’ Your mind was in shambles. In front of you was the captain of the Nekoma team, Kuroo if you heard it right, and his voice was exactly like Hawks. Fangirling for a hero that no one knew of, you cleared your throat and stood up.

“I’d look starstruck too~” He winked. Only to have you blush even more.

‘Oh god. I can’t unhear Hawks. He’s way taller but aahhh~’

“(y/n)-chan?!” Bokuto snapped you out of your thoughts. “You okay? Your face is pretty red!”

“I-I’m fine, Bokuto-san.” Scratching your nape, you sneakily activated your quirk to lose the acquired heat. “I, uh, I’m not used to being hit on. That’s all.”

“Such a shame~ We can change that if you’d like~”

“Kuroo.” Your breath hitched. Darting to the source, you were met with the Nekoma setter. Black roots now taking over his blondeness. “Karasuno is ready for our match with them.”

Swallowing your saliva, you stared at the setter. When he captured your gaze, he blinked a couple of times before looking away. Slapping his friend’s back, Kuroo laughed at Kenma’s little episode of eye contact with some random manager.

“This is Kenma!” Slapping Kenma’s back once more, the shy boy merely bowed and ran away rather quickly. “Anyway~ Let’s continue this small chat later~ Drop by gym 1 and witness the cats and crows practicing.”

Watching as he caught up with Kenma, you finally let go of the breath you had been holding. Fanning yourself, Bokuto studied you like a lab rat as Akaashi and Konoha approached you two. It was a mystery how the captain was silently eyeing you up and down.

“AAAHHH!” Three of you took a step back as he began to flail his arms. “HAVE I BEEN WRONG ALL THIS TIME?!”

“With what, exactly, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi questioned. Even he wasn’t sure what was going on in his brain.

“I always thought that (y/n)-chan was interested in a certain someone from our team.” His golden orbs locked on Akaashi. “But maybe I was wrong. (y/n)-chan! D’yu have the hots for Kuroo?”

“Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo?” Akaashi repeated. Konoha simply listened and waited eagerly for your response.

“Ha?” Your jaw dropped. “Of course not! It’s just that he has the exact same voice as my crush back in Musutafu. And Kenma’s voice reminds of my childhood friend’s before he got whacked with the puberty stick.”

“Hooo~ What was the name of your crush?”

If by some insane miracle, there’s a Hawks in this dimension, you were more than ready to drop everything, drag your ass to Fukuoka, and search for quirkless Hawks. But the question stood open. You had no idea what his name was. Sure, he would carefully flirt with you knowing you were still a student but he couldn’t help it. You were too beautiful.

“He goes by the name Hawks.” You shrugged. “But, eh, it’s just a crush. He’s like 5 years older than me.”

Nodding their heads, you changed the topic and pushed all of them away. It was now time for their matches and you wanted them to prepare with the ample time left. Following them towards the designated court, your thoughts wandered back to half and half.

“You okay?” Akaashi quietly asked. Eyes still locked forward.

“Yeah. Kinda miss my old home.” A small smile with nostalgia formed. “Not gonna lie, I was pretty paranoid and scared shitless with having to live in this dimension. But, it’s honestly not that bad. I kinda like it here.”

“It’s safe to say that the Volleyball team will always have your back.” He nodded at his own statement. “No matter how childish or silent they may be.”

“What about you?” You elbowed his arm softly. “Will you have my back?”

“No.”

Scoffing, you pouted and walked a bit faster. Before you could take another step, you felt his large hands delicately grab onto your wrist. Standing still, you felt it. The way your heart began to beat frantically, how you were certain your cheeks were slowly showing tints of pink, and how you were unconsciously yearning for his touch. Feeling as if time had slowed down, you made sure that your quirk was stagnant, to which it was. His gunmetal blue eyes were intense. If anything, the butterflies in your tummy were now raving.

“Whatever direction or dimension, I’ll always be there.”

“Recovery Girl!” Momo yelled. “(y/n)’s heart rate! It suddenly spiked up!”

The 2-A girls had visited you during their free period. They were chatting about what they would do once you were to wake up. It was a happy time till the ECG machine began to show signs of sudden increase.

Quickly moving, Recovery Girl checked the rest of your stats. The more she studied your condition, the more she was left with questions. Such as this scenario. Your vital signs were okay. Sure there really was an increase in your heart rate and blood pressure but other than that it was all stable.

Observing your sleeping body, she squinted her eyes. Rubbing her eyes, she was now sure that there was redness on your face. Checking your temperature, it was nowhere near the degree of fever. Giving it a few seconds, she watched as it faded and the abnormalities finally went back to normal. Grabbing your medical file by the bedside table, she scanned through the previous reports and closed the file once more.

“Is (y/n)-chan okay, kero?” Tsuyu asked. Her big eyes laced with worry as she held onto Momo.

“Yes.” She replied. “It seems as if her brain activity is also affecting her blood circulation but other than that, she’s as stable can be.”

Thanking her for the constant care, the old nurse watched as the girls began to leave the infirmary. Once she heard the door closing, she made her way back to your bed. Reaching for the medical file again, she went over the occurrence of similar activities. There was no pattern at all but she knows it when she sees it.

You were blushing.

- - - - -

a/n: i dunno bout yall but this was a bit chaotic to write xD hope yall liked that cheesy line <3

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyu x bnha

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #374

“doctor, doctor, won’t you please prescribe me something? / a day in the life of someone else...”

Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? No. Who do you feel most beautiful around? No one. What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could live without any makeup. What’s the most expensive thing you own? My snake, I think. Or my laptop, idr. Are you more of a book person or a TV person? Book. Relationship status? Single. What color are most of your clothes? Black. Did you french kiss before you were 16? No, I was 16. Last song you listened to? "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? Yes. What’s your favorite thing about life? That's a big question. I guess seeing acts of mass love and kindness, reminders that we're all in this together through all hardships. Who pays for the first date? Whoever asked the other person out, imo. Who has always been there for you? My mom. Have you ever written on a wall? No, at least not to my memory. Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? I think anyone who reads these by now knows, haha. I don't much play anything else. I prefer console games. What would you name a baby boy if you had one? Probably Damien or Victor. What would you name a baby girl if you had one? Alessandra, no questions asked. What lyric means the most to you? I mean there's tons, but the first one that came to mind is "for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from "Get Up" by Mother Mother. Like in the big picture, we humans are so so so minuscule, but with brains that are too complicated for our own good. It's my own head that creates so many obstacles for me. Who is the smartest person you know? Probably my friend Girt. Have your parents ever been to jail? No. Do you share a bed with anyone? My cat, haha. Does it flatter you when guys open doors for you? It's flattering if anyone does, not just guys. Do you enjoy taking naps? Yeah. That's like part of my daily routine. If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Nope. Is there anyone you try to be a good influence for? My nieces and nephew, but I don't feel like I am. I'm a poor example of an adult. Do you own a pair of fishnets? No, but I have a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves. Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon or cereal? All are great, but french toast. Yes or no: eyebrow piercings? I'd actually have one if I didn't have glasses. I think I'd look weird with one as I look now. When I say "The Beatles," what is the first song that comes to mind? "Hey, Jude." In your opinion, what is the very worst type of weather? Extremely hot and humid. You can only listen to one band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? Ozzy Osbourne, of course. Can you snap with both of your hands? Yeah, but it's harder with my left. What is something that you had to learn the hard way? For some people, promises don't mean shit. If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you paint it? Maybe like a light peach. When was the last time you got butterflies? I think not since Sara told me I look really pretty in eyeliner. ;_; <3 When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? There was this one time I was listening to "The Ghost of You" by MCR a while after finding out about Jason's mom's death and I just like... broke. When’s the last time you were in a line? When I was getting my second COVID shot. Do you trust the media? HA! Fuck no. If you could kill off one species of animal, which would it be? At first I was appalled by this question, but like... do wasps serve a purpose? Of all fauna, they annoy me the most. I mean bees are already endangered enough, and they prey on them. They don't pollinate, so like... why are you here. I may be mistaken and they have a valuable role, in which case I take all this back. Who’d you last say I love you to? My mom. What’s the most overpaid job in your opinion? I have on idea. Most jobs are underpaid. What’s the last thing you wrote down? I was doing some paperwork at the TMS office on my first day there. When’s the last time you heard a gunshot? I don’t know. What are you looking forward to? Now that my tattoo (which looks fucking stunning, by the way) is out of the way, I can focus on other things. I'm particularly looking forward to hopefully seeing the results of TMS manifest (which should take 3-4 weeks). It sounds horrible, but I'm also keenly awaiting this dog we're stuck with to go somewhere... The person who gave her to my sister to give my mom won't take the dog back, and we can't find another option that doesn't risk her being euthanized, which we absolutely do not want. We just don't know what to do, but she's driving Mom and me INSANE. Do you listen to online radio stations? No. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? No. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Multiple things. Have you ever ate so much you puked? Ugh, no. That sounds awful. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? Very much, sadly. Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? I gotta say brownies. Which YouTuber have you learned the most from? I mean, this depends on the subject. From Mark, I've learned most about life and how (I think) to be a good person, but there's a lot of pet channels I watch that have taught me loads about proper husbandry. This answer just depends on what knowledge you're talkin' about. Who would you want to be the flower girl at your wedding? Probably a niece. Do you want to be married within the next ten years? It'd be nice. Do you feel like your life is too fast-paced, or do you wish it were busier? Ugh, I wish it was busier. My days are a COMPLETE, routine drag. What are some hobbies which you want to pick up? I want to just be more artsy. I wanna draw and write more, and I'd love love love to be in healthy enough shape to handle going on walks with my camera. There are sometimes I miss editing videos, too. I'm unsure about completely new hobbies. Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? My family and a few friends. Oh, and definitely my psychiatrist. What group are you most active in on Facebook? None, really. I mostly just observe. Are you ashamed of anything? A number of things. Primarily not having a job at my age or even being in school. What were your favorite Disney rides as a kid? I loved Splash Mountain, I think it was called. What were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? Never been. What are some places you want to visit that you’ve never been? South Africa, Alaska, Canada, Yellowstone National Park, Bahamas, Venice, Rome... What are some places that you’ve been that you’d like to go to again? Disney World, Chicago, and this one super clear lake I swam in once a few hours away that I don't recall the name of. Have you ever owned a succulent? No. While they're pretty, I've never been much of a plant person. Do you support small businesses? I REALLY want to start doing that more when I have the option to buy my own stuff/have my own income. As someone who wants to be a freelance photographer, I get it. Starting an independent business is hard as hell. If a brand were to sponsor you, which brand(s) would you prefer? Uhhh I dunno. Have you read the entire Bible? No. Do you make bucket lists for each season? No. That does sound kinda fun, though. How old were you when you first dyed your hair? I have no idea. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ I desperately want to, though. It's just not something we can afford to spare cash on. What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Pajama pants? haha Do you think you could ever be famous? No. I'm way too boring and don't want to be anyway. What are some jobs you’ve had in the past? Sales associate, cashier, and deli worker. None lasted long whatsoever. What are some jobs you want to or would like to have? List five. FIVE? I don't know. I just know I want to be a photographer. Well, being an artist or poet would be very cool. And a reptile breeder, maybe tarantulas, too, but that makes me kinda nervous with JUST how many babies they have. What are some jobs you have considered? In rough order from youth to now: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, author/poet, artist, music video editor, wildlife biologist, photographer... Maybe there's more that just aren't coming to me. Are you thankful for social media, or do you wish it didn’t exist? Depends on the day for me, but I'm generally thankful for it so I can keep up with the lives of people who are important to me. It's just that it's a breeding ground for self-doubt and rampant comparisons that can easily depress me when I see some people are "further ahead" and more "established" than me. What are some of the best medications you’ve ever had? The combined efforts of Latuda and Lamictal saved my life. What was a video you watched over and over as a kid? There were lots of movies, like The Lion King, a certain Barney one when I was very young, and I watched Finding Nemo like crazy. Do you know a lot of people who were loving, and then turned cold? Jason????????????????? Is that you??????????????????????????????????????????? Do you own anything plaid? Ha, what a coincidence, I'm wearing my red plaid pj pants. Are you good at remembering names? Definitely not. Have the cops ever gotten on to you for anything before? No. What email thingy do you use? (yahoo, gmail, rock) ... Rock? lol anyway my main is Hotmail, but I inevitably have a gmail to have a YouTube account. What game system(s) do you own? PS2, Wii, Nintendo DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance. Are you any good at Guitar Hero? I used to be; I played most songs on Expert, then some really tough ones on Hard. I was soooooo addicted to those games. I remember when I got the first one for Christmas, I literally played it all day. Have you ever played Call of Duty? Nah, not my jam. What is your favorite/most visited website? YouTube. Is your bed comfortable? Sure. I've definitely had way worse. Do you have a garage? No. Fun fact, I've never lived in a house with one. Should you be doing anything right now? What? There's a number of things I could be doing that are definitely more productive, like finishing decorating my damn room. Do doctors or dentists make you more nervous? Not really. I only ever get nervous to hear my weight at the doctor's. Did you ever think you were about to die before? I don't quite know. When I ODed, it was more like I didn't care if I did. Have you ever really had a near death experience? Was it cool? "Was it cool." Literally fuck off. I guess you could technically consider my OD a "near death experience," especially given how many pills I took, yet I somehow experienced almost no ill symptoms. Maybe because we got to the ER for fluids quickly enough, idk. I'm just glad I didn't die. What is your favorite kind of weather? Snowy! Like a steady snowfall of large flakes with no breeze and total silence. *chef's kiss* Ever tasted beer? Ugh, no. Just the smell makes me sick. It was my dad's drink of choice when he was an alcoholic so I just have a very negative association with it. Have you ever seen a dead body? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Ever poured salt on a slug? As kids, my sisters and I would get our parents to do it because they grossed us out. So, so cruel. I still have this weird but pretty extreme phobia of them, but I wouldn't torture the things like that.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''don't let me get me'' by p!nk

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pinkestwrites · 4 years

Text

Say So

say so ft park jinyoung

word count: 5016 rated: r

summary: just when jinyoung thinks the star of the marjorette time will never notice him, she actually does.

a/n: this was a request for ihatemylfe but it seems they deactivated their account. hope everyone else enjoys it anyway! :)

"Simp!"

The sudden hands on his shoulders, the weight of another body, both jolted him out of his daze.

"Yeah, right," he grunted, shrugging the older male off him. His cheeks were hot, he hoped the blush wasn't too noticeable. Yet again, the gang was there, catching him off guard watching her again.

Glaring at his friends, he picked up his camera and bag as he stood. "You wish I was a simp. Not everyone is a little bitch like you," he directed his comment back to Mark.

Mark just chuckled at the rude remark, standing as well. "Dude," he slapped a hand onto Jinyoung's shoulder. "Relax. It's just a joke."

The exhausted sigh, followed by a shake of the head could only be from Bam Bam. "Hyung, you know she's out of your league, right?"

"If I actually liked her, you would be right," Jinyoung defended. "But I don't, so who cares. I was only here to get the scenery. You know my photography class has nature assignments, right?"

"Not of the ugly school field," Jackson piped in.

If one could charge his friends with stalking, he would. They found him no matter where he hid. And, of course, he usually was observing her. The school's star. The head of the majorettes. Someone so completely untouchable to a simple guy like him. They were such polar opposites it was laughable at the thought of her returning any sort of feelings for him.

"The field is not ugly," he scoffed, offended. "You just don't have an eye for hidden beauty."

"And jiggling boobs," Bam Bam suddenly gasped out. "No wonder you're always out here." He stopped cold in their walk, staring at the dance team practice a particularly upbeat part of their routine.

"Gross, you guys," Jinyoung couldn't look at them, or the girls. He knew the routine by heart by now. He knew what they were doing. And it pained him not to watch. "At least give some respect to the girls."

+++

English class was the worst. The absolute worst. Not only was it bright and early, first class of his day, but to make matters worse, he just had to sit behind her.

Right behind Miss Star.

It wasn't too bad at first, she always smelled so strongly, beautifully. It was actually a pleasure to sit behind someone so fragrant. He'd sat behind a few people he was sure didn't shower—and they looked like it.

But her—she did—she showered.

Her hair always shined, flowed around her head. She was always neatly dressed. Never inappropriately dressed. Though, her dresses or skirts did give him inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts he would never admit. They were for him to know and the guys to never find out.

And thankfully none of them were in this class.

He could just hear Bam Bam now— "Ew, hyung, I can see your drool from over here." Or Mark— "Simp." Both reactions made him shutter.

"Um, did you hear me?"

A rush of heat washed over him. His mouth dropped open. "What?" he squeaked out, blinking several times in shock. She was talking to him. Miss Star was talking to him.

"We're gonna read," she quietly answered, holding up the play they were studying in class.

He nodded, cleared his throat and stood up from his seat.

Great.

He hoped the whole class was ready to hear him stutter through the entire act.

But wait—

He remembered her raising her hand. And said something. It was fuzzy but, had she volunteered him to read along with her?

And.

Wait...

Did she actually know who he was?

+++

When Jinyoung entered Bam Bam's dorm room, he held his head high, shoulders out broad and wide. There was no reason to be ashamed. He even threw the door open a little too hard, making a loud thud against the wall.

"Don't break my wall, dick," Bam Bam scowled at him, quickly at his side to check the damage. "You're lucky that thing didn't make a hole."

"Oh, you swear," Jinyoung rolled his eyes. He sauntered over to the empty spot beside Mark and easily sat down.

Mark snorted, immediately noticing the demeanor with which Jinyoung carried himself. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," Jinyoung brushed it off.

"Oh yeah?" Mark persisted.

"Just tell us," Jaebum huffs, over all the beating around the bush.

"Ok." Jinyoung fights back a smile. "Remember when you said a certain girl was out of my league?"

"Oh, here we go," Bam Bam snickers. "Yes, I do."

"Well she actually talked to me."

"So...?"

“So?” Jinyoung let out an indignant huff. “Did you not hear me? If she was out of my league would she even know my name?”

“Who cares if she knew your name or not? That’s honestly not a big deal.”

Jinyoung was flabbergasted. She knew his name. She wanted him to recite those lines with her. She acknowledged him. How was this not making any sense to anyone but him?

Bam Bam cleared his throat, thinking for a second. “What’s the only way hyung could prove she isn’t out of his league?”

Jackson cackled. “I know! You have to sleep with her and bring back her panties.”

Jinyoung frowns. "Do you have some weird kink you need to explain?"

Jackson glares at him. "No. But I can tell you're to scared to ask her out."

There was no way Jinyoung was agreeing to that. He scoffs. "I could if I wanted to. I just don't want to."

"Scared!" Mark coughs under his breath.

He laughed. He wasn't scared. No. He just wasn't in the place for a girlfriend. He had so much going on at the moment. School. Securing his future. Both very much a big deal for him.

Fun just wasn't in the cards for him.

The most fun he had was being drug out to the crazy fraternity parties the guys liked to attend. Even then, he couldn't remember the last time he'd made out with a girl.

And sex?

That was never.

God, he felt like a loser. No wonder they all called him a nerd.

+++

It was a dumb joke. A dumb, stupid joke. There was no way Jackson was being serious. Or so Jinyoung told himself. But still, the dumb joke ate at him. Picked away at his brain until it was all he thought about. And that was bad. Really bad.

Especially as he had been sitting in front of his computer for over an hour with only a blank document to show. He had an essay due in a couple of days and he was already pushing it. There was no time to be fantasizing over some girl when his grades were on the line.

He let out a loud sigh as he shut his laptop. Putting it off to the side, he stood up and stretched for a bit. He hadn't realized he'd been sitting so long and felt like moving around. Whenever he was feeling down, he knew it was time for a walk.

While walks didn't help much with his essays, they led to randomly finding inspiration for his photography instead. The walks were always at different times and with such spontaneity he took some really great photos.

And when he was really lucky, sometimes he would find her out practicing after hours. That was how he originally found her. She was beautiful, shined even in the fading sun. After randomly finding her, that's when he realized they shared a couple classes together. And he couldn't believe he even sat behind her for one. He felt so oblivious. She had been in his lap this whole time and all it took was one stroll to really see her.

Like his feet knew, he really didn't have to think it, they took him out onto the school field. And just like most days, there she was. The setting sun cast a shadow over her and even then she looked beautiful. Everything about her just looked beautiful when she was dancing. Sure, she was pretty in general but you could just feel the passion for it when she did any routine.

Jinyoung was so deeply watching her, he didn't notice the person jogging up behind him until they passed him. The guy keeled over, trying to catch his breath, obviously in a hurry.

"Do you know what time it is?" he barked out, once he could actually form words.

"Shit." Even her curses sounded beautiful. "Sorry. I just—"

"Save it, we have to go."

Immediately Jinyoung did not like this guy. Rude. Inconsiderate. Ugly.

Ok, the last one was too harsh.

"Ugly personality" fit him better.

"Right." With haste she spun around to grab her things, jogging after her.

Jinyoung wondered what was so important and why this guy was acting like this when he realized. Oh. No. She was coming right at him. He knew he had to hide. She would definitely think he was a creep. She would just know he was watching her. It would be all over before it even began.

But there was nowhere to go, so he stood there like an idiot.

"Oh, Jinyoung," she seemed surprised to see him.

"Y-yeah," he stutters, mentally kicking himself.

"Yah, let's go. You're making me late."

And with that—that whoever he was—she left.

Jinyoung's heart left right along with her.

+++

Ok. So it wasn't the end of the world. Maybe she had a boyfriend? Judging by the sound of his tone, it wasn't very affectionate so Jinyoung assumed it could be a possibility that that guy wasn't actually her boyfriend. But then again, he knew guys and girls couldn't really be friends.

He let out a sigh. He was back to square one. Not one step closer to figuring out who this mysterious guy was.

And sitting behind her, her lovely scent confusing his brain, Jinyoung realizes this is not the time and place to be thinking these thoughts. He hoped he wasn't scowling at her. Or something worse! Like maybe looking at her dejectedly like some kicked puppy. That would be way worse.

Thankfully their English teacher stopped droning on and dismissed the class. It shocked him how quickly he grabbed his things. He was out the door in record time, feeling like he needed to get far, very far, from her.

He was feeling too many things and—

"Wait! Jinyoung!"

Of course he stops dead in his tracks. Spinning on his heel, he doesn't expect her to be right on his step.

"Yes?" he whispers out. Clearing his throat, that sounded so silly so he says it louder. "Um, yeah?"

"So you find the school field therapeutic too?"

The question catches him off guard. He didn't expect her to bring it up so blatantly.

"Sure," he answers curtly. Not exactly sure where she's going with this.

"Me too," she grins friendly at him. "It's nice when you're all out there by yourself."

"You could say that," Jinyoung agrees weakly. Though he would never admit that he only went out there for her.

"I go out there everyday pretty much." I know, he thinks to himself. "You should come out again. Maybe you could watch me and tell me what you think."

She said more, but he wasn't really listening. Did she just invite him? Yes, she definitely did.But why? What about that guy?

—ok, he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to focus especially when she was staring at him. He missed whatever she said. "Huh?" he dumbly asked.

"I wouldn't mind if you watched," she stated again. And if he wasn't mistaken there was a bit of a lift in her voice. No, no, he was definitely imaging things. Things that he did not what to think about out in public.

Especially not when she cocked her head to the side, top lip biting the bottom and a finger twirling a strand of hair.

Jinyoung tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it wasn't clearing.

It was never a possibility that she might flirt with him.

+++

"Park!"

Jinyoung hears his last name screamed from across the hall. It's from the last person he wants to hear it from. Choi Youngjae is a few years younger than him and should show him some respect. But does he ever? No. Just like now.

"Hyung~" he sings out, gleeful that Jinyoung stopped.

"What now?"

It's sure to be another dumb photography assignment about a squirrel or something. Youngjae never came to him for serious things, things that might get him actually noticed in the school newspaper.

"Oh, don't get mad already. I have something good for you this time. Plus you can't complain since I always pay you."

"You?" Jinyoung questions. "The school pays me."

"Same difference. Anyway," he waves a hand. "This time it's the Majorette team."

Jinyoung chokes on the no he was about to say. "The what?"

"You heard me. Now it's fifty bucks, so what do you say?"

"I'll do it."

And that's how he ended up showing up on the school field, currently surrounded by all the girls on the majorette team. They were all talking at the same time, clearly confusing him and making him blush at the same time. Not to mention his favorite was still here. His ears may have been lost, but his eyes never left her.

"Girls!" their coach shouted, effectively quieting them all down. "Let the young man tell us what he has planned for you guys, ok?"

Jinyoung lets out a thankful sigh. He was just going to take some basic shots really. Nothing too fancy.

"Um... you guys can just do whatever routine you like. I'm not filming, just getting a few shots for the school paper."

The girls let out a sad hum, but quickly get into formation. Jinyoung is suprised by how efficient they are, but gets ready to take his photos.

It's only when he's got one knee on the floor, eyes glued to the camera that he notices something off. He has watched this same routine quite a few times but none are ever like this one. Miss Star is front and center, giving it her all as she normally does. But it feels more sexual in nature.

The winks, lip biting and...

He had to be imagining it. There was no way she would wear that to practice. If he could see, everyone could see the little black thong that did not hide anything. It was too much, too provocative for such a conservative team.

And it took everything in him to will away the growing erection in his pants.

When he could no longer kneel on the ground, he thanked god for the slightly bigger sweater he decided to wear that day. He turned around to slightly adjust his now too large boner and it was perfectly hid in his pants. Pretending to check the photos, he turned around just in time for the coach to come back his way.

"How does it look? Do my girls look great or what?"

"Yes ma'am," Jinyoung answers robotically. "I should get going. I'll get Youngjae to send you guys a copy of the paper!"

Jinyoung doesn't think he's ever ran away from something so fast in his life.

+++

Jaebum is out the door before Jinyoung can say anything. There's a smirk on his face and Jinyoung knows everyone is gonna hear about this, but he doesn't have time to think about that because Miss Star is at his dorm room door and she's pressing herself against him. The flowery scent that usually accompanies her is surrounding him now too. His mind goes blank before he thinks to ask why she's here and he feels his cock twitch at the feeling of her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

It almost feels like he's imagining it when she kisses him.

It's very real. Her lips are smooth and feel delicious against his own. On instinct, his arms wrap around her, hands running down her back, stopping just above her bottom. She pulls away at this and Jinyoung thinks he's went too far.

There's a lusty look in her eyes and she bites her bottom lip. "I've been waiting so long for you to make a move."

Her words startle him. "Really?"

"God, yes," she breaths out before going in for another kiss.

This time Jinyoung is more prepared and he feels a little more daring. As her kissing gets more feverish, his hands travel all the way south, cupping a good portion of her ass in his hand. Her butt is firm from all the moving she does and Jinyoung doesn't think he's felt a better ass.

She pulls away again, letting them both catch some air. "I can't wait any longer."

He doesn't fight her as she roughly pushes him down onto his bed. There's butterflies in his stomach now. Sure he'd made out a little, dry humped even, but he'd never gotten more than that. Now he wished he'd been a little more persistent with girls. Now the girl of his dreams seemed like she wanted to have sex with him and he certainly didn't want to suck at it.

For a moment, Jinyoung dumbly watches when she starts wiggling out of her skirt before he realizes he should probably get naked too. He looks away to undo his belt and free his now fully hard cock from his pants.

Just as she's fully naked—himself only half way—her phone rings. Together they both let out an annoyed sigh.

Jinyoung tries to be discreet and catch who is calling her but he really wished he didn't. His once hard cock slowly softens as she answers. He'd forgotten all about her mystery rude guy, but obviously she didn't.

Now he feels a little bad. He had no idea his perfect girl would be a cheater. Things really were not fair for him. Only when Jinyoung finally gets a chance with her, it isn't one that he can fully enjoy.

After a brief conversation, she starts getting dressed again. Jinyoung leaves his boxes, but quickly pulls on his pants. He's fully clothed when she's at his door.

"Sorry about this. I'll definitely make it up to you." She leaves him with a wink.

Jaebum returns a few hours later and Jinyoung is still sulking on his bed. His dick says to just enjoy the lay but his heart definitely says no. And while he is deeply debating himself, Jaebum manages to end it all with two words.

"Nice panties."

+++

Jinyoung has never been one to be aggressive, but he figures now is the time. It'd been a week since he'd almost gotten to taste his forbidden fruit, but she loved to keep teasing him. She'd drag him down an empty hallway after class to heatedly make out again or to get handsy, even gone as far as give him a blowjob once too.

But enough was enough. With each time he felt horrible, still thinking of that guy. Whoever he was. Or what he was to her. Finally his conscious had eaten away at him enough for him to take action.

"Wait," he gently held her back. She was currently in the process of trying to drop his pants again, which he so wanted, but didn't really need. He dick was harder than he liked to admit, it certainly didn't feel guilty, but enough is enough, he told himself again.

"Hmm?" she asked purring into his ear. He wasn't really trying to fight her off so she cozied up into his chest, face landing in the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes, trying not to enjoy her tongue circling designs on his neck.

With a shiver, he pushed her away again. "I need to know," he choked out.

"Know what?" she urged, pushing his hand away again to pepper kisses on his jaw.

If he already didn't feel like jello, he certainly did now. He almost wanted to say fuck it and take her back to his place again. Jaebum made it clear how happy he was that Jinyoung was 'finally getting some' and he knew that Jaebum would be gone in a heartbeat. Being friends for almost eight years had its perks. But it wasn't right. Yeah, he wanted to get laid, but Jinyoung was romantic. He didn't want to be someone's second best. Like some silly little appetizer while the real meal waited at home for her.

"Who is that guy?" he finally got out.

The question made her freeze and Jinyoung felt even worse. Her reaction said it all.

"What guy?"

Ok, he wasn't expecting that. "That guy," Jinyoung let out, frustrated that she had no clue who he was talking about. Surely she would remember her boyfriend! "Look if you have a boyfriend just admit it."

Now she seemed a little peeved. "I don't."

"Then who is the guy who called you the other day. He's also the one from the field."

She burst out laughing. "Ew. My brother? Just no."

The skeptical look on his face must not have set right with her. She quickly whipped out her phone and opened up instagram. "I'll show you." She typed in a name with a similar last name to her. Scrolling down, she stopped at a picture with him and her—it was actually a collage with pictures of them, even as kids. The caption was #siblinggoals. Jinyoung felt a little dumb now. Then, when she showed him the screen and he saw multiple pictures of the guy and the same girl over and over—he started to feel really bad then.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," she smiled up at him, throwing her arms around his neck. "It was kinda hot that you were jealous."

"I wasn't jealous," Jinyoung tried to laugh it off, but clearly it wasn't working.

She giggled at him, looking up at him with lust in her doe eyes. "Wanna take this somewhere else?"

Jinyoung never nodded so fast in his life.

+++

Jinyoung barely gets the door open before she's attacking him again. She's furiously kissing him as he uses his shoulder to shut the door—not having any time to lock it—only able to take in each kiss with as much passion as she has.

They fall on the bed together, limbs tangled in a mess. Jinyoung loves the feeling of her on him, she's soft and warm, but there's something comforting about her. Everything is moving in slow motion and he feels more connected with her than he ever has.

Brushing her bangs out of her face, he takes this moment to really look at her. Of course, she's beautiful—he's always thought that. But there's a confidence about her, like how she didn't shy away just then. She's always the first to confront. So it doesn't surprise him when she pushes him down and straddles him.

"Mmmm," she moans out, starting a slow grind on him. He was already starting to get hard, but this solidified it. His hands instinctively move to her hips to steady her as she grinds a little harder each time.

"You're beautiful," Jinyoung can't help but say. Sure, he's feeling high on lust, but he means every bit of it. And he wants her to know. To him it was more than just sex.

She laughs and stops her movements. "Sure. We'll see how you feel afterward." She retorts and moves to strip him of his shirt.

"I'll feel just the same," Jinyoung defends as he grabs ahold of her arms. He knocks her over onto the bed and pins her down.

He's not quite sure what's come over him. Maybe it's the challenging tone in her voice, he's not sure, but he wants to be in control now. She'd almost removed his shirt, but he doesn't care. Instead, he leans down and teases her, like she teased him. He delicately started sucking on her neck as he worked on her shirt. Unlike him she had a button down shirt on. Hers was much more fun to remove. And when he undid the last button, he started leaving gentle kisses down her chest and stomach.

He hesitated when he got to her jeans, but it wasn't for very long.

Opening her jeans, he let out a little laugh. There was those infamous panties, only this time in red. And boy did red look even better on her. Especially up close like this. But this little piece of fabric was only getting in the way. Along with the jeans, he pulled them all the way off.

While she obviously felt very confident, he was still unsure with himself. And his skills. To avoid it, Jinyoung crawled back up to her. He wasn't going to leave her hanging though. He captured her lips in his own before sliding his hand down her stomach and cupped her sex.

She gasped in his mouth at this.

When his fingers started sliding along her slit, she moaned again. It was like music to his ears.

She let out a little whimper when he didn't proceed any further. And he got the hint when she nipped at his bottom lip, holding it briefly in between her teeth.

"Oops, guess I do bite," she whispered, her breath hot on his face.

God, she is incredibly sexy, he shivered at the thought.

"Fine," he breathed back and he pushed in. He didn't want to keep her waiting so he went straight to her sweet spot. She was wet, incredibly wet. He grinned as he slowly pushed a finger in. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Please," she moaned out. "More."

So he gave in. A second finger went in and she clinched down on him, surprising him. Given her positive reaction, Jinyoung felt confident and that he should experiment some more. Keeping a steady rhythm, he scooted down to greet her vagina. Face to face with it, he ran his tongue around, exploring her forbidden fruit.

Again she begged for more.

So he complied, beginning to lap at her core, enjoying all the little noises she produced. And when one of her hands tangled into his hair, he knew he couldn't stop. He had to see this through, her excitement like a drug to him.

He had purposely been ignoring her clit, but now he knew it was time to give it some love. He swirled his tongue around it and when her legs closed on his head he knew that's what she wanted all along.

He'd forgotten his fingers in her so he continued pumping in and out of her, now in sync with his tongue. Her shivers made him grin. And it wasn't long before he had her meowing out his name, grinding with his tongue, a completely mess under him as she came.

He grinned up at her, relieved to see he was the reason she looked like this.

Using one finger, she motioned for him to come to her. "You're cute, you know?" she started undoing his belt. And slowly, teasing him, she unzipped his pants. "Your turn now," she said hand running along his hardened dick through his boxers.

She freed his dick and it gave her a standing ovation. Jinyoung's eyes went wide when she completely took him in her mouth. All of it disappeared into her mouth, almost to the point of choking on it. But she grinned around his dick and stared him straight in the eye. Jinyoung wanted to cum right there, but she had other plans. She continued to bob her head on his dick, slurping and sucking along the way. He closed his eyes and leaned back just to enjoy the moment, the feeling.

When she suddenly stopped, his eyes flew open in confusion.

"Don't look so sad, big boy," she teased. "Let's get these off," she told him, tugging on his jeans.

Helping her, he lifted himself up to remove the bothersome clothes.

"Oh," he let out when she now climbed all the way up him. With ease she mounted him, sliding his dick into her. She felt like heaven. Wet, tight and amazing. "Fuck," he cursed out, hands grabbing on either side of her. She moaned as well, head thrown back and just enjoying the feeling of him in her.

His hands traveled down her waist to her butt and he gave her a hard slap on the ass. She let out a laugh before preceding to bend down and kiss him.

As the makeout got more intense so did her grinding. With the pace she was going, he didn't think he would last any longer. Finally he came inside her, feeling more satisfied than he'd ever felt.

When she crawled back up the bed, he put his arms out to hold her against his chest.

He just knew he wanted this for the rest of his life.

+++

Thankfully Jaebum didn't let the cat out of the bag. Jinyoung begged him to not let anyone know because—a) nothing was actually happening and b) jinyoung was a terrible liar. Especially with Bam Bam and Mark trying to break him. Nothing got passed those two.

So to walk into Bam Bam's room again, feeling like a million bucks—for real this time—felt great. There was no greater feeling, well there was, but that was obvious.

"Here," he said, throwing Miss Star's black lacy panties in the middle of the makeshift circle they formed.

"What is this?" Jackson questioned, picking it up delicately. "Or who's is this?" he muttered.

"Oh My God!" Bam Bam exclaimed, hand to mouth as he took in Jinyoung. "Are those hickies?" he gasped.

"Trying calling me a simp now," he gloated, particularly in Mark's direction.

And while all this did feel good. He knew it would feel better if it was for more than just sex. So when all that he had wanted to say and do had been done, Jinyoung left the dorm. He was off to go make a certain untouchable girl finally his.

#park jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung x reader #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung x you #park jinyoung x you #park jinyoung scenario #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung fic #park jinyoung fic

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Married at first sight AU part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry it took me so long to add another chapter! I’m thinking about applying for a writing course in college so i would really appreciate any honest opinion about my writing!

Summary: It’s time for Eddie’s part of the home-stays. Unfortunately, this also means that they’ll have to visit Sonia.

warning: there’s one sex joke in this (it’s Richie) and Sonia is in this so mental manipulation

@impalagurl67 @juhavs @werenotinhawkinsanymore (sorry if you guys didn’t want to be tagged anymore)

About five weeks into the experiment, Eddie is ready to call it quits. Not because Richie and him aren’t working as a couple, they are, really well actually, but because Eddie made a grave miscalculation.

He has long abandoned his own promise to leave the program as soon as possible, instead cherishing every date he and Richie go on that is paid by the production, spending more money on one date than Eddie has done in all his previous get-togethers ever.

It helps that for now they are in their own little world, away from every stress point of the daily life, in a place where they only have to focus on each other. He’s not ready yet to have to go back to work, or to move away from Richie, with him living in New York, and Richie residing in Chicago. Richie made him fall hard, and now he doesn’t think he ever wants to go to a house without him, for that house would not be a home.

As per consensus, Richie and him agreed on staying right until the week before the homestay at Eddie’s to avoid having to go and live with Sonia. The thing is, neither of them really kept track of what week they were on, for days in the same place blended together rather easily, or what the next would bring, not while they were having so much fun.

There’s no one else to blame but his own stupidity for that error, since they days before the commitment ceremony, they went to Richie’s homestay. It was only natural that Eddie’s followed. When that was revealed, Eddie and Richie looked at each other in shock, both of them cursing their obliviousness and forgetfulness, but by then, it was too late.

Suggesting that they forfeit anyway, Richie tried to help as best he could, but Eddie refused to do that, claiming it would portray them as a bad couple, and he wasn’t up for that; Richie deserved better than that. Not to mention his career. If they were to call it quits now, an explanation was obligatory, and that might result in reputation damage. For someone who worked in the business Richie did, that was not permissible.

That’s why they find themselves in a plane with destination New York, Eddie gripping Richie’s arm tightly, praying to whoever was up there to help them make it through the week. One might argue that Eddie isn’t forced to go see his mother, it’s only the home-stay, which means go to your own home, and Eddie wouldn’t have gone to her, if she didn’t live with him.

The last time they were on the plane, only days prior to this, their moods had been significantly better, Eddie full of anxious excitement at the prospect of meeting the people he had heard so much about.

Maggie and Wentworth Tozier lived in a fairly small house, only 30 minutes away from where their son lived, with a medium sized garden filled with all sorts of flowers and herbs. It may not have been as big as Eddie’s house was growing up, nonetheless it exhibited a warmth and serenity, the flowers and spices creating scents that lingered every time they entered the backyard, a welcome aroma that greeted them.

Maggie loved to bake, roping Richie and Eddie into baking one with her and bonding, while Wentworth set the table, and showed them his collection of Richie’s comedy specials, disks all neatly combined in one folder.

Their support in everything their son did was heartwarming, but it also pushed Eddie out of his comfort zone, made him feel out of place. He didn’t have that sort of support system, and he was clueless on how to act around parents who did.

Richie assured him that his parents adored him, and Eddie believed him, mostly since he was completely amoured by them too, and he hoped that they deemed him good enough for their son.

Right after dropping by his parents, the two of them went to Richie’s home. His apartment was the same size as Eddie’s in New York, the only difference being that Eddie’s was much neater, not filled with so much unnecessary stuff and memories. There were a lot of pictures, most of them of Richie and his parents, and the friends he made during stand up, but also a few of a dog he once owned as a kid.

The pictures forced Eddie to think about his own apartment, bare of anything that made the place him. He only had one picture, and that was the photograph that was taken when he was thirteen with his mom coiling him in her grasp, scolding when he didn’t smile bright enough for her liking.

He listened to her, as he always did, the smile more manufactured than her figurines she bought from China, but he remembers how much he longed to be in his room so he had the change to cry in peace, helpless and stuck while she controlled him like a puppet. He swore to himself that day that he’d stick up for himself, and defy her, but his rebellion only lasted a month, before he realized that it did nothing but cause her claws to stick in deeper, and stealing the little freedom he had.

He’s ashamed of himself for living with his mother, and for allowing her to wring her way back into his daily life like he needed her to be there for every decision, but it’s hard to be brave when you have no one else to fall back on. He never had a reason to fight back, but with Richie, he has found one.

His idea was to talk to his mother after the show, keeping his foot down and demanding her to move out, but since the wedding, he ignored every single call his mom made, convincing himself that he needed a little bit of extra time to gain the courage.

Because he dropped of the grid and didn’t contact her in any way, he understood that he needed to call her, at the very least to let her know Richie and him were coming.

However, Richie and him hopped on a plane first thing after a meeting with the experts, leaving him with no time at all to warm his mother about their arrival, and without a proper conversation between the two of them.

He’s certain, that as soon as Richie walks over the threshold, she’ll chew him up, and then spit him out like he’s a filthy piece of dog shit. And god damnit Eddie is sick of her being allowed to do those things without any consequences. Someone should say something about it, and that someone should be him.

The whole trip, he divides his time between prepping Richie for the monster that his mother can be if she opts for it, thankful that the cameras are nowhere in sight, and assessing every possible outcome to prevent a huge blowout from occurring.

He will address her about her behavior, just not on television broad cast, so he’ll try the whole week to appease her, without throwing Richie under the bus. That’s a slippery slope to ride on.

His husband, for five weeks already yet the word still causes him to brighten up, is animatedly practicing for his next movie roll, and cracking jokes, attempting and achieving to mollify some of Eddie’s fears away.

‘Hey Eddie Spaghetti, how much you want to bet that I can indulge this whole sandwich in one bite?’

‘If you even try, I’ll leave you on this plane all by yourself.’

‘Auch, dully noted.’

His mother may be a horrible person, but this time he won’t have to face her alone. That also is reason for concern be as that may, because even despite the fact that Eddie told Richie all about his mother, there’s a whole lot of difference between hearing about it, and seeing it in the flesh.

Though he obsesses and over analyses every possible outcome of his sudden appearance with his mother, he is taking aback by her reaction none the less. Knocking on his front door, after ensuring Richie to take everything that comes out of her mouth with a grain of salt, the sight of her tight-lipped smile emerges.

She’s wearing the same dress she wore on the day of the wedding, the door clenched in her fists, glancing at them with glare she is careful to keep hidden from everyone who is unfamiliar with her. It’s one of her specialties, to mask how much hell she’s about to bestow upon Eddie towards other people.

Eddie immediately knows that she is livid, and by the hand that falls on his lower back, he can tell Richie understands it too.

‘Come in Eddie-bear’, she invites them in, as if the flat isn’t registered in Eddie name instead of hers. Eddie allows himself one more moment of hesitation, before faltering inside.

The minute he steps in, he wants to run back out. The walls metaphorically close in on him, like he is going to buried under the concerns and scrutiny of his mother, hiding him from every real love he could ever hope to get.

It’s torture, and he fights against every instinct in him to stay put. The place has been under his name for six years, and when he first bought it, he associated the place with new beginning and freedom, causing him to happily skip home after school every day. He discovered what kind of person he is here, what his personality entails, and he despises the fact that, just like with everything else, his mother took this away too.

His knees start to get a little weak, and Eddie thinks he might pass out any second, until Richie comes up beside him, his arm thrown over his waist and allowing Eddie to lean his weight on him, all his muscles relaxing after being cramped up in fight or flight mode.

A feather-light kiss is pressed to his forehead, Richie’s body shielding him from the camera and Sonia’s havoc eyes for barely a minute, but enough for Eddie to compose himself.

‘Hi miss K, I’m Richie.’ The greeting is one that is so unlike Richie that Eddie comes close to calling the whole thing off, his heart bleeding with the need to protect and preserve everything good about the man who is goofy and kind-hearted.

‘Richard,’ Sonia allows with a curt nod, inching her body away from Richie when he tries to hug her as a salutation. He doesn’t let it get to him, Richie’s polite smile remains on his face, determined to prove to her that he is above all that pettiness that she’s displaying.

The camera man shuffles closer, presumably zooming in on Richie’s face, gauging his reaction. Her attempt to conceal her distaste is not working effectively, but that is the opposite of a problem for the tv-show.

People eat drama up, and this will be no different, except that Eddie is now the one they’ll be gossiping about behind his back. A shiver rolls over his body, annoyance prickling the back of his neck. It’s easy to forget the cameras are rolling when he’s enjoying Richie’s company, but the reality that others observe them and every move they make is under scrutiny, is infuriating.

‘Oh Eddie-kins, it’s been so long since I’ve heard of you.’

She attempts to embrace him, but he only allows if for a second, detangling them to create more space between them. A mother touch should provoke a feeling of safeness, of care and love, but Sonia’s hugs always made it feel like tiny bugs crawled their way across his body, and no amount of whipping would ever get them off of him, and he avoided them at all costs.

Try as he might, he can’t fight the need to practically fall on his knees and apologies to her, his earlier determination about standing up for himself slipping away like water between his hands. He manages to shrug in lieu of it, but only by the skin of his teeth.

‘You look so skinny,’ she adds, true to form already doing her very best to poison his mind with the ideas of him being unwell. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat too.’

She spurns Richie, failing to ask him if he needs anything, marching to the kitchen.

Eddie grabs Richie’s hand, their finger interlocking while he catches the reassuring smile Richie gives him. ‘Wanna go see my room?’

‘Oh kinky Eds, and the first time I’m visiting too? I didn’t peg you for such a guy.’

With a gentle push of expiration and an accompanied eye-roll, he drags them over to his bedroom, the only space in the apartment that holds any worthwhile to him, or at least the a box hidden under his bed does. He guesses his mother will be busy with her tea , the one that Eddie has such a distaste for he almost dry heaves every time he takes a sip of, for a little while so they have a bit of time to spare.

The bedroom door remains open so the camera crew can pile in after them, their equipment enough to block the door from his mother’s prying eyes.

He crouches down on the floor in order to grab the box, pausing to really think things through, and then takes out just the picture, the lone one that was taking of both him and his father, previous to standing up, and joining Richie on the edge of the bed.

If he wants to relationship with Richie to work, he needs to reveal everything about him, including the parts that have yet to be healed, but he rules out that conversation until they’re alone.

There were more stuff in the box that belonged to his father, but those aren’t as important s the picture.

The photo gets muffled away out of sight of the camera, saved for a time when all the production crew has gone to bed.

His intent was to show Richie around the rest of the apartment, but the tea is prepared faster that he had foreseen, so he backlogs his plans, and they move to the living room.

His mother has, gracefully, packed a third mug, which she fills to the brim with her disgusting beverage, and offers up to them.

While Eddie and Richie choose the seat next to each other, his mother sits opposite to them, the tea sloshing on the table as she swirls it. Inwardly, Eddie cringes, the need to clean it up presenting itself with such a velocity that his hands shake.

‘So Eddie, talk to your mommy. How have you been?’ Eddie is muddled over her behavior. On the one hand, she is much calmer than he expected her to be, but on the other hand, he knows better than to let his guard down around her.

‘It’s been great mom, I’m really happy that I got paired with Richie’, he remarks. He’s being intentionally vague, as to not give her any ammo to verbally attack them with.

From the moment they stepped foot into the flat, she disdains Richie, never once addressing him, and it’s starting to get on Eddie’s nerves. He almost wishes she would scream, so sheltering himself and Richie is an option, whereas now it feels like he’s waiting for the punchline to drop.

‘Oh yes, Richard.’ The malicious sneer has resumed it’s place, her eyes squinted together as she leers at Richie. Richie’s posture shift, his body ridging but his mouth still firmly shut, biting his tong. The fact that Richie refrains from any sort of humor, or talking in general, leaves Eddie unsettled and on edge. He doesn’t like it, and the absence is an experience he’ll avoid as much as possible in the future.

‘What have they been feeding you Eddie-bear? You are so skinny. It’s not good for you you know, staying away from home for so long. Are you homesick? Is that why you’re barely eating?’

Embarrassment tints Eddie’s cheeks bright red, her treatment of him not unlike that five year old, condescending in the worst way.

The penny drops, and Eddie all at once understands what her game plan is. She’s trying to manipulate the situation so that it seems like Richie isn’t a good husband or partner, both for the tv show, and for Eddie.

She must have known that demanding Eddie to come home would have only resulted in him turning his back on her even more, so she ventured to do it in a different way.

‘Eddie is perfectly fine, misses K, his abs and frankly the rest of his body can vouch enough for that.’ Richie laughs, but the joke falls flat and dies out at the hard stare he receives. Tittering awkwardly, he clears his throat.

‘He isn’t homesick either, in fact, he told me that he loved to travel, he’s fine,’ Richie defends him, their legs locking under the table, not in view of the camera’s and his mother.

‘Even so, I’m very essential to my sons life, Richard. If you even consider being part of his, I come with the territory.’

‘Eddie is perfectly cable of being by himself, he doesn’t need anyone. Are you sure that it isn’t you that needs him?’

Sonia jumps up from her seat, her lukewarm drink spilling over the top and dripping of the side. She turns pale, her whole visage drained of any color, so utterly devoid of any other emotion other than enragement.

‘Do you hear that? Do you hear the way he speaks to me?’ She screeches to the lens-man, who blinks sheepishly at her, finding her outburst rather strange., as there was barely any provocation. The man glimpses at Eddie and Richie, who remain quite, and he follows their lead.

‘Eddie, force Richard out of here, he is no longer welcome. I won’t accept someone talking ill about me.’

‘He is mom’, Eddie states, his voice trembling somewhat, although the words don’t lack conviction.

‘Excuse me?’

‘This is my home, and you’re powerless to decide who comes through those doors.’ The camera is glaring right in his face and he is tempted to push it away, which is almost the perfect outlet for the anger he’s experiencing, but he’s better than that.

‘Eddie-bear’, she chuckles uncertain. ‘I’m just trying to look out for you. You’re delicate honey, and people like him,’ she spat at Richie, ‘will derail your mind.’

Scoffing, Eddie rises from his chair as well, establishing eye contact to assert dominance.

‘He won’t. But even if someone would try, they wouldn’t succeed.’ The picture in his pocket calls his attention, and his hand wonders into the pocket to touch it for a second, drawing strength from it.

‘Not anymore.’

Sonia gapes, her mouth opening and closing, unbelieving that her sweet, innocent boy said such a thing to her.

‘We’ll talk more when I get back, me and Richie are staying in a hotel tonight.’

He denies her the chance to reply and ruin the day even more, trudging outside with as much confidence he has. Richie says something to Sonia, out of hearing shot from Eddie, before he too, falls into step beside Eddie.

‘I’m sorry that this home-stay turned out to not be such a ‘home’-stay after all,’ Eddie apologizes, using air quotes on the word home.

‘Hey, Eds it’s fine. I don’t care where am I, as long as it’s with you.’

The blush returns, now for a whole different reason.

#reddie #reddie fluff #My writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie tozier imagine #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2

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secondgenerationnerd · 4 years

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we need the hcs to follow up 😳✌🏻

Yeah saw that one coming 😅

I’ll try to separate them as best as I can. They’re mostly more sexy times hcs, but I am making the last one something they won’t tell anyone else and why. Also, I am a firm believer in good communication and conversation between partners. There are certain kinks that I am not familiar with and some I’m just not comfortable with. I want it to be stressed these couples communicate with each other and do not push the other past what they’re comfortable with.

Speeddemon: (some of these are from their sexytimes HC list, but I did add on to a few ;) )

-Damian has a huge praise kink. Irey figures it out when she tells him how good he is to her (aka that boy could spend hours with his head between her legs) and he gets this strange, happy look. She tests it out one or two more times before telling him about it.

-Irey has a thing for his Robin uniform. On his birthday after they started dating, he found Irey sitting on his bed in lacey green panties and a red corset with the Robin logo on one breast. They didn’t leave the room that night.

-They’re the two more likely to roleplay as their hero personas, especially if they have a quicky after patrol before heading back to the tower.

-Irey and Damian are both flexible so they’re more likely to explore different positions. Damian really likes anything that allows him to see her face.

-Damian has a very small kink involving his mouth--he loves to kiss, lick, bite, suck every part of her that she’ll let him.

-Irey can vibrate different parts of her body and you had better believe she uses that to her advantage during sex.

-While Irey heals almost instantly from any mark he leaves, she’ll leave scratch marks on his back and chest.

-They’ve brought food into bed a few times. Damian likes chocolate syrup, even though it makes a massive mess.

- What they won’t tell anyone: Theirs isn’t really a kink, but it’s more of a favorite position. They’ll both lay on their sides, facing each other, with her leg over his hip. Neither one of them has more control than the other, they can go slower than they would in other positions, and they get to be closer than with other positions. They don’t tell anyone about it because it’s not really worth mentioning. It’s a special thing for them.

Superstar: (done sexy times for them too, just adding to it.)

-Jon’s way more dominant in bed than most people realize.

-Mar’i’s a switch so she lets Jon take the lead most nights.

- The easiest way for Jon to get her flustered/slightly horny is to call her a good girl. He’ll do it during training, just under his breath, to make her squirm.

-They have Blue kryptonite and Tamaranean strength handcuffs. Mar’i used them on Jon first and did a striptease while he watched.

-They do not have to use condoms as it’s difficult/impossible for them to conceive naturally. (toying around with this because I’d love to do a fic with them having a baby.) Jon rarely pulls out and Mar’i has no issues with that.

-Mar’i’s a dancer so lapdances are pretty frequent for him (and never get old), but there have been a few times he’s given her one and it ended well for him.

-Mar’i really likes ‘sexy’ costumes because she thinks they’re funny. Until Jon gives her a mind-blowing orgasm after she shows him a “sexy superboy” costume based on his new uniforms.

-Mar’i blows Jon in the Batcave...frequently. There’s a certain blind spot in the cameras she knows about and he legit cannot say no when she asks (usually because she’ll ask after they’ve made out a while.)

-They each have a hard no- Mar’i doesn’t like being degraded and Jon doesn’t like having his butt touched. Jon was trying to talk dirty to her in the middle of sex and called her a slut; She kicked him out of bed and wouldn’t touch him for a week. Jon’s thing is more of a comfort zone situation, it’s not an area he likes to be touched and it takes them a few times before they realize that’s just a no go area.

-What they won’t tell anyone: Mar’i likes being choked when they’re having rough sex. Jon and Mar’i can hold their breath longer than normal humans, but they’re still safe. The reason they don’t tell anyone is probably the same reason most of them don’t think Jon would be dominant: He’s very sweet in his day to day life. Jon’s the kind of guy that would move heaven and earth for the people he loves, so the idea he chokes his girlfriend during sex and she likes it wouldn’t make sense to most of them. Plus, Damian is technically her uncle (even though they act like siblings more) and if he found out, Jon would be dead.

Speeding Arrow: (haven’t really done a whole lot of sexy times stuff for them so.)

-They’re both talkers during sex. Not really like dirty talk, though that happens, but like, there are times they’ll have a conversation while doing it. I stand by the idea Jai and Lian have bickered about guitars while she was on top of him.

-Jai, like his sister, can vibrate his body parts. Lian’s first time was amazing because of his vibrating dick.

-Lian’s got a thing for his body hair. As in, she has straight up told him no sex when he had to wax his chest for a mission until it grew back. And they did not have sex until it grew back.

-Jai can still manipulate the speedforce to get super strength. When Lian demands him to go harder and faster, he obeys her. She usually can’t walk properly the next day.

-They’re the only couple that’s likely to have hate sex during a fight. They’ve been friends since they were like 3? So they’ve had a fair share of fights. Now, there are times they’ll argue and things get heated in a different way. Jai will make a comment about getting rid of her bitchy attitude and Lian usually calls him an asshole.

-A few guys from other teams will occasionally ask Jai if he’s the fast guy at everything (because that’s an original joke.). He usually brushes it off without a thought. They say it in front of Lian once and she straight up doesn’t like that. She told the guys that Jai would see them later. When they asked why, she said, “going to test your theory.” before walking off. Jai has to admit he likes when she takes control like that.

-They’re arguably the most vanilla of the group. They know what they like. They might branch out with locations and some things, but for the most part, all they need is each other for a good time.

-What they don’t tell anyone: They both occasionally use sex to repress unwanted emotions or get some control. Lian’s more of the former and Jai the latter. Jai’s aware of it and makes sure to check in with her before they do anything. Afterward, he’ll ask her if she needs to talk or if there’s anything he can help her with. Sometimes she tells him what’s wrong, other times she just lays curled up next to him. He will refuse to sleep with her if he thinks something’s really wrong. Jai’s less likely to use sex as a way to feel in control in some part of his life, but it does happen. She’s the same way with Jai on communication. The reason they don’t tell anyone is because they both recognize it is a very unhealthy way to deal with problems, but fuck it.

Colin X Milagro

-Milagro will use her Lantern ring in bed to hold Colin down, which he fucking loves.

-Similar to Damian, Milagro uses her mouth a lot in bed but tends to bite and suck more than kiss and lick.

-They have the most toys out of all the couples. They like trying new things.

-Milagro likes it when he blindfolds her and does sense play. It’s her favorite form of foreplay.

-Colin and Milagro mostly keep things in the bedroom, but there are a few planets they’ve had sex on. These were deserted planets that Oa has dismissed basically. They have a planet bang list.

-There’s another exception to the bedroom rule, vibrating panties. Milagro lost a bet at some point and had to wear them for a full day. Colin had control of the remote. She was ready to kill him by dinner time because he wouldn’t let her get off. He does make up for it, but barely if you ask her.

-During weeks when he’s turned into Abuse a lot, Milagro gives him a full body massage. I do mean full body. He usually feels bad because he wants her to get off too. Sometimes she’ll let him touch her or use one of their many toys, but for the most part she tells him to just enjoy the massage.

-Unlike Irey and Mar’i, she’s not a fan of costumes in bed. Lingerie yes, mostly because she likes how it makes her feel not to get him aroused. No, to do that she puts on the trench coat he wears and nothing underneath.

-What they won’t tell anyone: They have a strapless dildo that Milagro will fuck Colin with. In my canon, Colin is bisexual which everyone knows about. He asks her if she’ll fuck him like a year or so after they started dating. She does hesitate because she doesn’t know what to do. They research it together and learn how to make it enjoyable for both of them. It’s one of the more intimate acts they do because he’s physically bigger than her. They don’t tell anyone about it, not because he’s ashamed he likes it, but because it’s something special for them. It’s a time when he can be more vulnerable to her and she gets a chance to make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

#damian wayne #irey west #mar'i grayson #lian harper #jon kent #jai west #colin wilkes #milagro reyes #smutty headcanon #I regret...somethings lol #definitely going to hell

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