#this is all the music that would make me all riled up for battle

[gothhobbithoe]

Songs I would play as I go into battle:

Bad blood - Taylor Swift

Bloody Mary - Lady Gaga

Blood in the Wine - AURORA

Bring it on - Scene Queen

Can you feel my heart - Bring me the Horizon

Cheerleader - Ashnikko

Evil - Melanie Martinez

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

I Disagree - Poppy

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Pink Barbie Bandaid - Scene Queen

Queen of Kings - Alessandra

Weedkiller - Ashnikko

You Make Me Sick - Ashnikko

#why would i be that avenger who has a battle playlist and dances like peter quinn lol like it would calm my nerves so much #this is all the music that would make me all riled up for battle #ashnikko #scene queen #taylor swift #AURORA #melanie martinez #Lady gaga #poppy #alessandra #bring me the horizon #playlist #daydreams

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 5 (2k words)

Summary: Alejandro and Valeria face off.

TW: Violence Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“Liar!” Valeria screamed as she lunged at Alejandro with her blade. The hilt shone where the light caught it and Valeria glowed with the silver lustre of the weapon beneath her. In battle, she glistened like an unforgiving, merciless god. She aimed for his neck, she would make him bleed and regret ever looking at her wife in the base way that he regarded her. It never occurred to her that he would ever place his hands on her, and the mere thought sent Valeria into a frenzy. Her wife, defiled by the likes of Alejandro; a man touching her wife, her goddess. The woman who was so beautiful that Valeria could kiss the earth she walked on. It was unthinkable – it was untrue! Y/N would never submit herself to that, she did not have those sorts of feelings. Not only feelings of disloyalty, but feelings towards men. Instinctively, Alejandro reached for his handgun. The two entered a deadly brawl.

They were locked in the dance of death. Their bodies followed the music of violence and brutality; their limbs stretched out and followed the inevitable rhythm of cuts and bruises, of sprained limbs and blood-soaked mouths; of strength and weakness; of the killer and of the killed. The base, animal instinct of murder prevailed over reason and argument. In her heart, Valeria knew that she and Alejandro had never talked properly, and they never would. It was not possible to speak of certain things. The betrayal, the pain; it hung over their struggling bodies, unspoken but felt. It hummed between their yells and grunts; it leapt out every time one looked at the other. Beyond what had happened with Y/N was what happened before. Valeria knew that she had instilled a pain so deep within him that it would never heal, that this pain would be part of him forever. An ugly pain that contorted him from the inside, a pain that Valeria prayed she would never experience. But it was all worth it. Were she given the chance to go back in time, she would do everything exactly like she did; she would pay any price if meant getting to spend her life with Y/N. There was no limit to what Valeria would do. She would break the hearts of everyone that was ever born, she would cut her soul in half -anything for her wife.

“How does it feel, huh?” Alejandro spat out between hurried breaths, matching her attacks with his. “Can you imagine it happening – can you see me doing it?”

“Callate!” Valeria saw her chance and sliced a long gash on his face. With an angry yell, he kicked her and the two fell apart. Valeria crouched with a hand on her abdomen and willed herself not to vomit. What Alejandro spoke of was incomprehensible to her. She could not conjure the image in her mind. It was as hateful as trying to imagine Y/N dying; it was unthinkable and too painful.

“You don’t think your woman could ever love a man?” He held a hand on the bleeding slash on his face, the blood staining his glove. “You really think that, given an alternative, she would stay with you forever?”

Valeria knew that he was only provoking her like he always did. It was one of the things he hated most about him, how he prioritised his amusement over her pain. How he would rile her up just to see her get angry. She hated how stereotypical he made her feel, a caricature of a Latin American woman - always angry, always nagging; feisty! She hated it when he would say how beautiful she looked when angry. Like when someone scares a peacock just to see it spread its beautiful blue and green feathers; a show for the entertainment of others. From the outside, it looked like lover's jest, but she always felt the contempt that lingered beneath his words, the secret enjoyment of her emotional torment. It was his way of dominating her, by controlling her emotions, triggering them for his pleasure. It was something that made her fall hard for Y/N, how, when Valeria showed her frustration, Y/N went above and beyond to soothe her. A shoulder massage, sweet words, sometimes food - she had an array of ways of pleasing Valeria and shooing away the clouds that hovered above her. It was the first time that Valeria felt someone affirm her feelings, and she realised that not all lovers wanted to see her suffer. That there was another life to be had, a soft life. A life where she was not tormented at home, where her spouse didn't make her feel insecure or unwelcome. A life of undeniable, steady love.

She felt the same thing happen now, this dangerous game with her inner fire. His provocation, how he dared her to do something about what he said. The difference was that now, she really did mean to kill him.

“She’s a lesbian, pendejo. It is not possible for her." Valeria looked around the container and felt a hysterical, manic laughter bubble to the surface.

"She's not like you and me. She only swings one way, my way."

Alejandro dropped his hand, the wound still bleeding but he did not bother to soothe it. The blood continued to flow freely, the droplets trailing down his face and threatening to leak onto the floor. There was something in his dark eyes that was at once terribly vulnerable and terribly hard. He tried to hide it, but Valeria had already seen it. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Valeria's face tightened with a terrible grin. "You heard me. You're just like me, Alejandro." She cocked her head to the side. "Exactly like me," she uttered slowly, emphasising every single word, letting them trail off her tongue.

Her words fell and landed with a thunderous blow. They were quiet words with heavy meaning. She felt him glow with shame, which he would express as anger. Men like him always did. Machismo men like Alejandro allowed no room in their lives for something which shamed and frightened them. They did this by not looking at the world too closely, as they did with their reflection in the mirror. They only allowed themselves the quickest of glances before they were in motion again. Their lives were a blur of movement, busy lives that, from the outside, were driven by a purpose bigger than themselves. But really, they busied themselves because they wouldn't allow what they were running from to catch up to them. This threat of shame would haunt them forever. It was not possible to run forever and so there were rare moments where they caught a glimpse of that terrible, nameless thing. Moments at the bar where something frightening glimmered within the eye of another man - was it suspicion, or was it recognition? He would tear his gaze away and look down at his glass, he would reach the bottom. He would forget what happened with each gulp, until the next time.

"You don't hate me because I left you. You hate me because I am what you won't allow yourself to be. Unashamed."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said with a dangerously low voice, his words sounding like a growl. "You're being crazy like you always were. A crazy, hysterical bitch-"

"You know there's even a word for it these days!" She said with enthusiasm, enjoying how the tables had turned. Enjoying that at long last, they would finally talk. "They call us bise-"

He lunged at her with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his blood-stained hands immediately grasping for her neck. Forcing her silence, forcing her to never speak that word in front of him. It was a silence that Valeria vowed to never hold again. She fended him with her knife, slashing at his wrists. She would buy herself enough time to finally say her peace. To finally get to the bottom of this sick, perverse jealousy that threatened to ruin them both.

"I always saw how you looked at him!" She yelled in between his attacks and her defence. "I saw how you shivered at his touch when you thought no one was looking! I know what is in your heart because it is exactly what is in mine. You hate me because you hate yourself. You think killing me will make that part of you go away, but it never will. I don't care how much you hate yourself, but it is NOT my problem. And it is certainly not my wife's problem!" Her words were drowned by his hands at her throat. Hands that were leaking blood like a river, shaky hands that would make her go quiet if it was the last thing they ever did.

" I am not like you!" He choked out the words. "I am a man."

His grip eased slightly, giving her only enough time to say one thing: "Rudolfo is a man too, but you still love him."

For the first time in her life, she felt that she would really die this time. She had cheated death many times before, but there was no more running from it this time. She would be one more body to the pile that shamed, repressed men created during their lifetime. A pile of murdered ex-lovers lest the world find out they had been loved, and of people who knew the truth and threatened to reveal it. Alejandro, wounded and bleeding out, was content to spend the last scrap of his energy choking her. His heart was beating so fast, he could hardly hear anything above the ringing in his ears. That deafening ringing noise and the feeling of Valeria's body underneath him were the only things he could feel.

And so he didn't hear the sound of creaking metal as the door was opened. He didn't hear someone yell at him to get off her. She was an important informant, after all. This whole mess was so that the Army could finally gain some intel on Hassan and the missiles, and here was the Colonel murdering their best chance at tracking those weapons. But Alejandro heard nothing, not the first pleas and the subsequent commands. He did not hear Rudolfo or Soap yelling. Nor did he hear heavy footsteps approaching and Commander Grave's rifle as it was raised above his head and brought down with more force than was needed. Alejandro's body flayed to the side, yet he held on.

"Damn it, you son of a bitch, I said get off!" Commander Grave's voice thundered within the container as he dragged Alejandro off of Valeria.

Rudolfo was at Alejandro's side at once, already beginning to patch up his wounds. As Valeria was being revived by someone else, Alejandro felt her cold, sardonic gaze on him. He could feel the satisfaction radiating off her, her 'I told you so.' Instinctively, he rejected Rudolfo's first aid. "Quítate," he mumbled and shrugged off any attempts at patching up his slit wrists, or his damaged face. Rudolfo's flinched away from Alejandro and turned to Valeria.

"Valeria Garza, you are now in the custody of the Mexican Army," said Rudolfo as he pulled out a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. "You're going to prison for what you did." He helped her get up and placed the cuffs on her as she gained her footing.

She was expressionless, shaky from her proximity to death. She could only utter one thing. "My wife."

Rudolfo nodded solemnly. "She is in custody waiting for you."

"If she's hurt-"

"She isn't," he said and looked to the side where Alejandro was tending to his own wounds. "I made sure of that." A ghostly smile hovered over her features as Valeria was escorted outside.

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this part! I'm very aware that Valeria and Y/N have spent very little time together in this fic and I promise to bring them together very soon!

pookie bear tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie 

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Kiss The Girl 🫶🌹

I don't need to tell you twice

All the ways hе can't suffice

If I could give you some advicе

I would leave with me tonight

Dove Cameron - Boyfriend

🫶💕

Hawkins is hosting a Valentine's dance, your boyfriend has treated you like shit yet again, Eddie decides he's had enough of your loser bf and plans to steal you away from him. 🌹

I had an ask from @itdobe-foggy that said to listen to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron and you telling Eddie about your loser ex. I did listen to it and thought of Eddie stealing you from your shitty loser boyfriend because he knows he could be a better boyfriend ❤️

Angst, fluff, minors shoo! 18+, Eddie is a little bit of a shit in this but we love him for it 🤭🌹

Valentines Day Fic 🌹🧸🫶💕

If you have any mini Valentines fic requests then send me an ask 🥰

🫶

Eddie hated Valentines, hated the hearts and the cheesy love songs, those god awful romantic movies and pretty much everything about it.

He was much more drawn to Halloween, unfortunately that was months away and he had to endure this hell instead. Normally he would be far far away from any Hawkins High dance but this was the Valentines Dance.

Most importantly you would be here. His secret crush. Eddie was God damn sure that he was falling hard for you. It was so easy, so easy to fall for your sweetness, you were beautiful inside and out, a true rare sweetheart in this shit hole of a town.

Eddie would ask you out in a heartbeat if it wasn't for your dickhead boyfriend. He really was a butthead, didn't know how to treat a princess like you.

But Eddie did.

He looks around at the decorations for the dance in distaste, pink was everywhere. Pink balloons, pink streamers, love spell punch, Valentines themed food and shitty cheesy music that made his ears bleed.

Still be would deal with all of this just to see you.

Gareth nudges him and he smiles-probably looking like a goofy idiot but he doesn't care as you walk in to the gym in a flowing red dress, lips painted cherry red and you're wearing heels that defy gravity.

Then Eddie notices how sad you look, the not so hidden red rimmed eyes and he fumes silently.

Hastily he grabs the wildflowers he picked for you from the field near the trailer, hopes they make you smile as he holds them out to you.

The beaming smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat "Eddie thank-you, you're so sweet" you kiss his cheek and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at the feel of your lips on his skin.

"Uh no problem sweetheart. Where's Peter?" he asks causally and you frown. The smile disappears from your lips and he kicks himself for asking, it's obvious you didn't want to talk about Peter.

"Around here somewhere. He decided talking to his oh so pretty chem partner was more important that accompanying his own girlfriend to the dance" you wave it off like it doesn't bother you but Eddie knows it does, hates the way your pretty eyes look so downcast.

"Why are you with him? Jesus h christ, I mean he's awful sweetheart'' you nod and look down, a sad expression on your face.

"I've told him it's over so many times but he's such an arrogant ass that he pays not attention, even when I avoid him it's like he makes it his mission to be the biggest jackass possible" Eddie listens to this, tries to hide his growing rage. Kinda wants to hit Peter right in his stupid face.

Not that he's much or a fighter. He prefers his battles strictly in the realms of D&d. Still you don't get labelled as the town freak, have assholes riling you up on the daily and trying to pick at you and not know how to fight dirty.

"He's a fucking dickhead princess, you could do so much better. Deserve the best. You could have anyone you wanted" he holds out his hand you squeeze it softly, give him a sweet smile.

"Anyone?" you repeat with an impish smile and there's a deep tension in the air, it wraps around the two of you. Eddie has felt this before but never knew if he should do anything about it.

Now? Well now he was going to steal you from your douchebag boyfriend and he couldn't give two fucks if Peter hated it. He had watched that asshole make you grow sadder week by week, heard the arguments in the hallways.

You deserved to be treated like a princess and Eddie was more than up for the task. If you wanted to be with him, then he was for damn sure going to be the best boyfriend possible.

"Anyone sweetheart, Peter doesn't deserve you, I could be your boyfriend and I'd be better than him in every fucking way" he says fiercely.

Eddie can see the longing in your eyes, the way his own heart skips several beats as to what happens next. He really wants to kiss you, instinctively he moves forward just as you do and he pulls you into his arms for a kiss that makes both of your heads spin, goofy smiles on your faces.

"Eddie Munson. If I didn't know any better I'd say you had a plan all along to steal me away from my shitty boyfriend" you tease him and he smirks.

"Is my plan working princess?'' you answer him with another kiss then take his hand to lead him somewhere more private.

🌹

"What the fuck!!''

Eddie peers up pissed off, his hand caressing your thighs, lips pressed to your neck and gives your boyfriend a dirty look as he grips your thighs gently and you hum in frustration, tug on his hair a little so he can continue.

Peter splutters as he takes in the scene, looks between you and Eddie who stares defiantly back at him.

"What the fuck... I heard moaning, I thought... he trails off as Eddie stands up and fixes your dress. Picks up his leather jacket and tucks you into it, admires how incredible you look in his clothes.

"Beautiful, he sighs then turns to Peter, do you fucking mind? We're busy. Oh and dickhead that noise that's so unusual to you is your girl enjoying herself... Must be such a rarity with you, I know"

You hide your smile and snuggle into Eddie who tugs you closer to him. He feels on top of the world.

"She's my girlfriend Munson" Peter rages, Eddie shakes his head and points to the door.

"Not anymore. Fuck off" he snaps and Peter must sense the irratation in Eddie's tone as he flees.

"Asshole you mutter, he'll be back in Rita's arms by Monday. Shit, maybe we should have went to yours Eddie"

He looks around the janitors closet and kisses your hair. "You were so insistent to come in here sweetheart. How can I say no to my princess?''

Fuck, he doesn't think he will ever be able to say no to you, your pout and pleading expression will be the death of him.

"Let's go to yours" you nod and take his hand leading him outside, your giggles filling the air.

This Valentines Day wasn't so bad Eddie muses, after all he pissed off a jackass, had a decent time and best of all he got the girl.

❤️

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

[violet-moonstone]

httyd ceremonial music and war chants

ok so one thing i absolutely need to have in one of my httyd fics (the thw rewrite with a time jump - working title is wings of war) - is a scene with communal dancing, chanting, and singing

theres going to be a gathering of the archipelago's leaders at berk (i might call it a "thing" even though its not quite historically accurate...but its httyd lets be real here, nothings historical)

anyway at the gathering/thing, each group will contribute some kind of performance or ceremony in a show of support/celebration and I cant get the image out of my mind of the berserkers essentially performing a heilung song (specifically asja)

i imagine that the berserkers (and probably a lot of others in the archipelago) have incorporated dragons into their ceremonial music, which will only make it cooler and definitely more intimidating in the case of war chants

the scene would take place at night. all the groups that have come to berk are gathered before the great hall and fires have been lit all around. theyre gathered in a semi circle, with performing groups taking their spot in the centre so everyone can see them.

im imagining dagur (shirtless even though its cold, with his face, chest, and arms painted) walking back and forth in front of the ranks of the berserkers who've come with him as part of his entourage for the ceremonies. he's leading the chant, riling them up, pounding on his chest or maybe using a spear to keep time by driving its blunt end into the ground over an over. he's super into it, like sweating, chest heaving with the deep breaths at every pause. sometime he's bending forwards or titling back from the force it takes to lead the chant with consistent volume and expression. he looks a little terrifying.

and then partway through the chant, heather emerges from the middle of the performers - she also has her face painted and shes in an elaborate ceremonial dress - and she starts singing in this haunting but beautiful voice

and its just fucking transcendent, man

hiccup and astrid are watching, absolutely mesmerized

also here's asja for reference. it's about wishing for prosperity and love, which is fitting considering the events that are taking place as the ceremonies are happening

also i think hakkerskaldyr would be another great one either for the beserkers or several of the tribes gathered together to sing before a battle, either the night before or as theyre on the battlefield. this song makes me feel such a strong sense of anticipation and...is it just me or is the song hot? like this is a sexy song.

imagine dagur chanting hakkerskaldyr while holding some sort of huge weapon, glaring down people he's about to bludgeon to death

hot

#httyd #how to train your dragon #rtte #race to the edge #httyd fanfiction #httyd headcanons #dagur the deranged #heather the unhinged #Youtube #thw rewrite

[star-shard]

Take Five

Premise: Elvis is starting filming on his first movie: Love Me Tender. As an extra in a crowd scene you’re expected to get all riled up by him. You never thought it’d go this far. 

Warning: Y/N fic, NSFW, female stimulation/edging, teasing, implied virginity 

Note: 1956!Elvis (don’t have to have seen the movie for this fic)

__

Hollywood was always your dream. The drama, the romance, the action, it had captured you from radio shows to the big screen watching leading ladies wrap themselves up with their leading man. Stars, why couldn’t you be one?

Of course, to get up there, it required persistence. You’d done a few advertisements in voice work and were now getting noticed. A few headshots later and here you were, standing in a crowd of both the seasoned and the hopeful. You were officially an extra in a major motion picture. 

But not just any picture. Love Me Tender, staring the rock and roll famous: Elvis Presley. 

It was a post civil war drama, involving Elvis as the main character’s younger brother. His character would go from gentle and loving to a crushing decent into jealousy and violence. It was a meaty roll for a first one, and you swore you could already hear the higher ups already lighting their cigars at the films success. And you were all only half way through filming.

You’d heard Elvis before on the radio, how could you not? Any disc jockey worth his salt knew what drew in listeners, and his records had sung out on of various speakers in parties you’d been to. You knew he was good at singing.

But of course, you were very focused on your career. You didn’t have the time to fixate on anything else…

That is, until you saw him work.

It was a musical scene. Elvis’s character: ‘Vance’, was to give a mini concert on his acoustic guitar to a group of southern townsfolk as a part of charity to build a school house. You were dressed up in an old timey type. The type you’d only worn before in vintage western photo booths at your local fair, you had to admit it was exciting to be in full costume and make up. 

You’d seen him on set briefly only once, but here it’d be full view. As the scene began, as action was called, you naturally fell into your acting self but… that didn’t last long.

Handsome was an understatement. His eyes smoldered, the heat was practically jumping off of him. He mumbled a thing or two to the director, his eyes flitting out into the crowd and catching your gaze. You’d never felt like a fish in a net before. And when the guitar came fitted on his chest like armor before going into battle, you saw those blue fire eyes burn even hotter.

What happened on that stage was something aspiring performers could only dream of achieving. The man was a firecracker, his body moving in a way you’d only seen in dusky clubs in dark hours of the night. His lip curling, his voice warbling, his legs sprawling as if they were inviting any lady watching to enjoy the view. It was like going to church in a whole new way. 

It didn’t take long for your acting to get method, for your little yelps to be real. And as he scanned the crowd through his little show, they kept catching on you. Once, twice, by the time he made dead on eye contact, it wasn’t a coincidence. He was looking at you. 

By the time the scene was done, your once perfectly fitting costume not felt all too stuffy. Your perfectly curled hair was looking more tossed. It wasn’t until ‘take five!’ was called out that you remembered yourself. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh with your fellow extras, they too had enjoyed the little show. But of course you had to collect yourself. This was a filmset, not a concert.

But… there was nothing wrong with complementing a fellow actor’s work, right? 

“Excuse me, Elvis,” he was in-between the scene, pressing a handkerchief against his brow. Even when his hair was undone it was still just right, you were both attracted and envious. “That was, great, that scene, I’d never seen nothing like that.”

Elvis peered up at you from his seat, his leg stretched out, his guitar leaned against him, “I was just thinking something similar,” he drawled, a soft smirk reaching his lips. He seemed proud to put a blush on your face. 

“Oh,” you couldn’t help your smile, looking away from his gaze but only because you didn’t want to be caught giggling like a school girl, people were watching after all, right? “Never been to a rock concert before, thought that guitar might have just caught fire.” 

“Burning up, honey?” He asked in your direction, and you nodded. Absolutely you were. 

He could see you were a little shy, not used to being around someone like him, maybe even a little too keyed in to the wandering eyes around you, so he approached it nice and easy.

“Sure is different on this set, different from touring that’s for sure… usually I gotta find my own kinda space to cool down… good thing I got that trailer,” he gestured to the white boxed trailer just near by with a star baring his name. His stare now beckoned yours. 

__

Elvis Presley’s trailer, of all the places you thought you’d be. It was well furnished, all the trimmings needed for a superstar. It felt a little darker in here, but you didn’t need the outside light at a time like this. He’d called you in, put a hand in your hair as soon as the door shut. “What if someone knocks?” You ask, your breath hitching as your back now leans against the door that you pray is locked. 

“Then I’ll answer it,” Elvis said simply, his hand going from your hair to your neck. “So lets keep it professional, hm?” You nod as his thumb brushes up to your lip, asking for a sound that you gladly give to him. You’d never been with someone like this before. In the middle of work, but he was so very soft and gentle like he’d done this a hundred times before backstage. “I saw how you watched me… like you were holding yourself back. No need to hold back here now, is there?”

“N-No,” you find yourself stuttering when his hand ventures lower now to just above your chest. 

“Shhh, just breathe now…” The next thing your breathed in wasn’t air. It was him. His lips on yours, moving in time and you felt yourself relax into it, allowing your hands to reach out to his waist. He rewarded the touch with a nip to your bottom lip. As his hand curled on your breast you gripped his sides which just made him hum. You really did feel like a schoolgirl right now. “Anyone ever touch you down there?” He asked, curious and clearly seeing an air of inexperience in you. 

Before you could answer you felt your costume getting pulled up. The top layer, the frills, all getting raised up to your stomach for better access. You were wearing bloomers right now, still covered. But you never felt so exposed in your life as his fingers curled in-between your legs, beckoning out something you didn’t even know you could feel. 

Your toes curled in your shoes and your knees bent to make you a few inches shorter. It must have been amusing to him because his kissing turned into a smile against your neck, planting a few bites with every sound you made. It was so hard to think as he touched you but when he pulled down those frilly frocks you had on your legs, you were now completely naked from the navel down. And with that, came the press of something different than fingers, a sort of bulge from Elvis.

You looked to him and when your eyes met, those burning eyes had cooled to something touchable. You wondered, ‘right here? Right now?’ But he seemed to have caught the question on your face because he just chuckled, his rut against your body was enough to make you reach out to pull down his zipper but he caught your hand, “come on now, baby… gotta be professional remember?” He hovered your hand over his clothed dick, the teasing almost too much, but he wouldn’t let you touch. Only feel the warmth. 

“Elvis, please,” you let out a whine as his other hand gave your clit a little attention.

But as you said that, the knock at the door you formerly anticipated rang out, startling you. “Elvis, we’re ready on set for take two!” A gruff voice said on the other side. 

 Elvis continued to stroke your pussy. “Go on now, answer the man.”

You couldn’t believe him, he wanted you to say something, right now? It was clear Elvis meant his command when a finger went inside of you. “He’ll, be out in, just once second!” It was more of a yelp than a sentence and it was only when you heard the gruff man mumble something and wander off that Elvis released you, your skirt falling down and him still pinned up right there with you.

“Take two, right?” He mused, enjoying your mild disorientation. “I might just mess up the next take feeling like this… could take five takes, maybe ten,” he shrugged, “you’ll have to see now won’t you.”

That flutter in your body that had been begging for more but you wouldn’t get it just right now. Even as he stepped out of his trailer, his hand giving your ass a squeeze on his way out, you knew you’d both be back here. Elvis was an actor willing to take time with his work after all. Even if it took all day. 

#elvis #elvis x reader #i can't believe it y'all but here we are lol

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The only thing Greta got right in the Little Women press was that Laurie and Amy have great rapport in the book, and they do want to fuck!

It's here in case you'd ask.

Ay, anon, you made me go read that and got me riled up all over again XD

In this case, I honestly apply the "broken clock right twice a day" XD because I have grown to think that she's just... incompetent. Going from Frances Ha to Ladybird to Little Women, there's such a sameness in the ideas and themes and a lack of growth in her storytelling that hmmm....

And in the case of Amy, and Amy and Laurie in LW in particular, I'm always confused when people say that this movie makes them more justice than any other adaptation before, because I just... can't see it.

The movie defines Amy as a character, in the way it develops her character, so to speak, by her Jo envy and her helpless lifelong infatuation with Laurie. There's a little dedicated to Amy's art (I do particularly like the translation of genius-not genius to realism-impressionism, and I appreciate that her first scene is her with her art), but compared with how Jo's art is portrayed in the movie, it's not enough. And it's not enough because Jo's relationship with her writing in the book is utilitarian for the most part: she writes on one hand to explore the fantastic from the safety of her pen, and on the other... because it brings money and money buys necessities and niceties for the ones she loves. Even when she says she wants to do something splendid, that something splendid isn't defined as writing a literary masterpiece.

But Amy's drive to become a famous painter is something she is set on and longs for with great intensity since she's a child. She doesn't make art because it's cathartic or profitable, but because it is a passion to her. The realization that she's not a genius is a heavy disappointment, comparable to Laurie's disappointment in Jo's refusal and the mediocrity of his own musical talent.

Gerwig gives Amy, in the moment of the most raw emotional revelation, the line I have been second to Jo my whole life. And that to me is such a betrayal of the essence of her character. Amy does not want to be Jo, never wanted to be her. Even her special relationship in childhood was with Meg. To be elegant and pretty and move in society are things she always liked and wanted and worked for. The line itself colors the whole of Jo and Amy's relationship in the movie, and it does little to dispel the notion that Amy is just getting Jo's leftovers, while attempting to make her an object of sympathy, because she wanted to be fabulous Jo and couldn't, so now we as an audience can be comfortable forgiving her for performing conventional femininity.

Is this really more accepting of Amy and her desires than adaptations that just... don't give Amy Jo-envy?

At the same time, the movie fails to show a single shred of Jo growing to admire Amy's good qualities as they age. If anything, Jo's resentment towards Amy grows. The movie puts the I get all the work and Amy gets all the fun line, not when Jo learns she's not going to Europe and is having a battle with her own feelings over that disappointment, but when she's coming home to take care of Beth. It not only makes Beth (and by extension, chronically ill people) as a burden on their healthy family members that bothers them and would be better off dead already, but it also makes of Jo a cold bitch that will tell out loud to her mom and sister that she'd rather be in New York or Europe than by the bedside of her dying favorite sister. By the end of the movie the script explicitly says that Jo wants to slap Amy when she meets her again after her return.

So, I wonder... is this better development for their relationship than Jo being visibly happy of seeing again the sister she had not seen in years now, like in 1994, or having a quiet moment after Fritz Bhaer arrives where they talk and Amy tells Jo how much everybody loves Fritz and how happy she is for her, like in 2017?

Then there's the Laurie affair. The movie completely fails Laurie's character in two ways: book!Laurie is a very charming, emotionally intense man. Timothee Chalamet is the embodiment of every languid, annoying rich Edgar Allan Poe protagonist. Laurie should be the kind of person that does a lot of stupid things, but he's so charming and lighthearted and emotionally honest that you cannot help but like him. This personality aspect informs the way in which both Jo and Amy see Laurie: Jo sees a rascally son, Amy sees the spontaneity and vitality that she lacks herself.

How is this any better than Christian Bale, who at least is cheerful, and Jonah Hauer King, who at least attempts the inner turmoil of the character?

The second way in which the movie fails Laurie is in failing to give him any growth. Putting aside Greta's hilariously wrong idea that Laurie's proposal to Jo is his attempt at becoming an adult (completely unsupported by the text), once he has that discussion with Amy, he drops off the face of the earth, to reappear at the end and kiss Amy. This creates a chain reaction that transforms Amy into a passive victim of love.

Consider this:

Amy's crush on Laurie in her childhood is painfully and embarrassingly obvious and made known to Laurie through her insistence in her having pretty feet (seriously, why, why, why). She tells him about her pretty feet, makes the mold of her foot for him (instead of, you know, as part of her hard work to develop her art, as it is in the book)... it's impossible that he didn't notice, but he acts like he didn't. We do not get a single scene where they interact one on one in the past, or in which they have easy friendship.

So... how is this better than, say, the way 94 shows Amy's interest in Laurie by watching him from the stairs where she cannot be seen by him, or her telling him about her fear of death?

Speaking of which, let me make an aside here about the "I will kiss you before you die" bit that people seem to hate so much based on some outrage about a 17 year old guy saying that to a 12 year old girl: it serves more than one narrative function, very economically: it establishes that Amy cares for Laurie and trusts him, it shows us that Laurie likes Amy and indulges her, and more importantly, it's set up that is paid off in Europe. There Laurie tries to kiss her as he reminds her of the promise he made to her... and she refuses his kiss, because she has changed and he has changed and their dynamic is completely changed. And he's also taking something he said once as a comfort move, and turns it into something that allows him to do what he wants. And Amy will have none of that, because her sense of self and what she deserves as a person has grown: I do not wish to be courted by a man who is still in love with my sister.

And what about 2017? 2017 gives us a full sequence of Laurie and Amy during her time at Plumfield, including the Amy's Last Will and Testament plot.

Is that not better than 2019's first part dynamic?

But what about their Europe dynamic?

In the book Laurie runs towards Amy when he sees her driving her own carriage around. In the movie, Amy runs after Laurie once she sees him, as she's riding by the side of aunt March who is pestering her, because she has always loved him.

Invited to the Christmas Ball, he not only stands Amy up, but arrives drunk, with other women, and publicly humiliates her and Fred Vaughn. He never even apologizes for this, and Amy does not demand an apology from him. In the book he comes in time to pick her up, and because he makes one comment in which he implies he still sees her as a child, she fills her card with other dance partners and "punishes" him by showing him she can do without him. And so he starts to learn to see and treat her as an adult.

Then the movie gives us the studio scene, where two things about this relationship happen: one, we get the choice-fate in love conversation that ends with Amy's long speech about marriage, to which Laurie doesn't answer anything either in acknowledgement or response, and then he tells her she's beautiful once and all is forgiven and forgotten. How cheaply is Amy bought off, eh. Even a modern romcom would have the heroine slap the shit out of the leading man's face if his attempt at anything close to an apology was just telling her that she's beautiful.

So then we have the Valrosa scene that has it's okay parts, although it contains the awful second to Jo line, and then... Laurie asking Amy not to marry Fred Vaughn, coyly implying that he wants to marry her himself. Putting aside the fact that, for a movie that apparently means to give Amy her own stature and independence, it cannot stop making Amy and Laurie scenes about Jo one way or another, by simply having those two additions, the scene is made worse than the 1994 one and it's also awful I always knew I'd marry into the March family line.

And that's because even that version, while inventing the "Laurie asks Amy not to marry Fred" that 2019 takes from it, understands that this has to happen A) later B) in the context of Laurie asking for a chance to prove his worth. He writes Amy a note telling her he loves her, that he's going back to his grandfather and that he's going to try and prove himself, and he asks her for the time to do so before she makes a decision: don't do anything we might regret. But 2019 Laurie not only asks it out of the blue, but does it without an express declaration of love, without apology, and without any offer of changing his life. Granted, book Laurie doesn't ask for anything, he goes and tries to prove himself because he's half inspired by her resilience, half nettled by her criticism, so both movies fail there, but to me 1994 clearly does it better. The bar is low.

(2017 completely foregoes having any of this by erasing Fred Vaughn and changing Laurie spiraling to "Laurie is sad", so it's difficult to compare in terms of choices).

People do love Amy telling Laurie that he's mean in 2019, but this is completely cheapened by the fact that she then goes and breaks up with Fred, and when Laurie comes back after Beth's death (again, we don't even know where he was or what was he doing), she very meekly tells him what she did and that she doesn't expect anything from him... and I'm sitting there in the cinema and saying... where's my Amy March? Who is this shy woman, perpetually in love with an asshole that cannot acknowledge her when she's young, who does not apologize for his wrongs, that does not change his ways, that doesn't even have the courage to tell her he loves her while asking her to cut ties with the man who actually put in the work to court her and who risks a lot by marrying a penniless American girl? Why is she the one that sounds apologetic here?

How is this any better than Laurie receiving a letter from Jo telling him of Beth's death and asking him to come home, and his immediately leaving London to... go to Amy, because that's the first person he thinks about? Where all Amy tells him is "Oh, Laurie, I knew you would come" because she knew that he loved her?

As a sidenote, I still think that the way 1994 includes Amy's pinching her nose with a clothespin as a child is set up for the visual representation that Laurie notices her and knows what her insecurities are and loves her whole, specially in those things, so he touches and kisses her nose first in that final meeting after Beth's death, which is different from the way he bopped her nose when he first met her in Europe? Now that's attention to detail and visual storytelling and not... scarves of different colors, sorry Jacqueline Durran.

And then there's Amy in 2019 being sort of ashamed and scared of Jo when she meets her again at her return, as if she had something to be ashamed of.

Again, how is this any better than Amy being happy to see her sister and happy to see her happy?

Then, there's their married dynamic, which I thought was fine, it was fine in 2019, despite my gripe with Laurie telling Jo Amy calls him "my lord" and omitting he calls her "my lady", and the fact that half of it is meant as mockery of the Jo/Fritz ending of the novel.

I digressed hard, anon, sorry, but I have been meaning to write this down for a while now, and you gave me an opportunity.

#Little Women #anti Greta Gerwig #Little Women 2019 #Little Women 1994 #Little Women 2017 #Anonymous #ask #Amy March #Laurie Laurence

[angxl-m]

"Can't Handle It?" R. Zoro x Black!(F)Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI, ty

⚠️Warnings⚠️: dom!Zoro (hes a lil mean), switchbutmostlybottom!(Y/N), alcohol use, weed use, spitting, teasing, light spanking, light choking, pet names (slut, whore, girl, baby, mama) degradation but throw some praise in there, overstimulation(a personal fav), dumbification, fingering(f), oral(f&m), PnV, and the creamiest of pies

Reader has a fat ass 🤷🏾‍♀️

Really just some nasty sex to ease the Zoro brain rot (Pre-time skip Zoro if it matters)

Song Recs (please listen i luv sharing music <3):

It’s my first post and took me way too long, but enjoy luvrs 🫶🏾

Zoro always considered himself a patient man, regardless of the truth of the statement. As Zoro to Zoro, he was, at very least, tolerant. He’s a swordsman, it’s his obligation to be calm, collected, both at ease and alert at all times.

So for the sake of everything holy, he wondered, why- how, you managed to rile him up in all the best fucking ways.

It was infuriating.

The swordsman could practically feel his green hair singeing when it came to the thought of you, his mind working in overdrive trying to process how your hair could be so pretty while your mouth was so damn big.

Always challenging him, you weren’t stronger, that was for sure, but just as fast and with a solid sense of direction. You two were almost as bad as dartboard brow when you fought, but to Zoro you were just so fucking attractive.

His heart would race in the blue moons that you were around and totally calm, when the two of you found some sort of peace. And in times like that there was always liquor involved.

~

The Straw Hat Pirates had rented a small group house for a few days on the outskirts of a town on some island Luffy and Nami had decided to dock at. It was a quiet, very laid back town where everyone simply went about their business.

Turned out to be the perfect place for the crew to dock and give the Thousand Sunny and their sea-worn skin a break.

They sat on lawn chairs around a campfire in the open land behind the house, it was early morning, just breaking into 2 a.m. Nami, Luffy, Chopper Usopp, Sanji, and Brook had already fought and lost the battle to sleep and were tucked into their rooms for the night. Zoro having carried Luffy and Chopper inside.

Only Franky, Robin, you, and Zoro remained, chatting over the fire. Zoro and Robin were drinking sake while you and Franky drank Black Label Whiskey, all the bottles were acquired in the town by you and Nami as a little treat.

A delicious haze filled your head when you sipped the drink in hand, ‘the only thing that could possibly make the night better’, you thought, ‘would be some weed.’

Your shuffling broke the silence of the group, attracting their attention as you rifled through a backpack at the side of your chair.

“Stop making noise, woman.” Zoro grumbled, opening his eyes to glare in your direction.

Your rolled your eyes without sparing him a look, “Bite me”

Under other circumstances you would’ve had a much snarkier remark, but honestly, you couldn’t be bothered to feign annoyance upon finding two pre-rolled joints in the bag.

Smiling in success , you just so happened to miss the way Zoro’s eye widened at your words, his lovely asian glow intensified by the infiltrating thought of actually biting you.

That plush bronze skin that he knew smelled of cocoa butter and sweet almonds. Zoro’s gaze raked over your figure, strong thighs spilling out of your shorts, sun tanned cleavage shimmering with the flickering campfire. You had looked too alluring all fucking night.

Fuck, he felt like that Ero-fucking-cook.

Robin exchanged a knowing look with Franky, both of whom had witnessed Zoro’s reaction.

“Hey guys, found some pre-rolls in my bag. Down for a smoke?” Your voice filled the air.

Zoro grunted in acceptance, quickly taking another swig of his drink. It’s not mixed, just a tall glass of sake since Nami insisted he not drink from the bottle “like a savage.”

Robin offered you a playfully loving look, “Oh you know me so well.”

(Mommy Robin smokes do NOT pwm)

“I’ll take my leave here, I’m sure a few hits will take me out anyways.” Franky admitted, a loud yawn proving his point shortly after.

You three said your goodnights as the cyborg made his retreat to a comfy bed.

The chairs were spaced pretty decently apart, so you moved to take a seat on the grass between Robin and Zoro’s spots. You handed a pre-roll to Robin, allowing the woman to use her devil fruit power to reach a hand to the fire, effectively lighting the perfect roll.

Robin took a few quick pulls, dragging the light past the twisted end of the paper, before handing it off to you and starting the rotation.

“This,” Robin cleared her throat from a particularly harsh hit, “is some good shit.” her eyes were low and red, the lazy remains of a smile gracing her features.

Zoro nodded in agreement as you passed it to him.

“Have a little faith madame, who you know smokes more than me?” you spoke.

“Sanji.” Robin’s answer was quick to make Zoro snicker earning him a jab at his leg.

“Cigs don’t count, I’m bout to take my spliff back.” you huffed an empty threat.

Said woman only got up from her seat and patted the girl’s head, “You win (Y/N), you’re the biggest smoker. Thank you for the cyph.” The dark skin girl sprouted a victorious smile.

“However, I will be calling it a night, that Sake was a little too good.”

“Goodnight Robin, you’re always welcome to the cyphs~” You waved her off as Zoro grumbled a goodnight.

The second spliff was quick to light before you found perch on the arm of Zoro’s chair, making the rotation easier.

Another comfortable silence ensued, Zoro sneaking glances at the way the fat of your brown thighs splayed against the wooden furniture.

He was lost in thought, considering how your shimmery skin would look under the strength of his fingers. The poor man was so lost that he didn’t realize how long he had been inhaling until his lungs started to prickle and burn.

You looked over to the swordsman, curious as to why the spliff hadn’t returned yet. There he sat, face contorted and straining, before he began to cough and heave.

(if u ain’t choking, u ain’t smoking 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Grabbing the spliff before he could drop it, you clutched your stomach with laughter. You couldn’t help it, his face was just too funny.

“Fuck -hack- you” he grunted with effort, leaning backward in the chair to catch his breath. You turned, now sitting criss-crossed on the wide arm of his chair, a knee coming to rest on his ridiculously toned bicep.

“Man you wish! What? Can’t handle it?” you taunted, taking another drag. He turned his head with intentions of telling you off but was hit with your chest being pretty much level with his line of sight. On top of your usual sweet scent were the alluring notes of liquor and Zoro fucking loved that smell. It felt so raw and personal, to be up close to someone, drunk off of their intoxication.

His red eyes were trained on your face, a facade of annoyance at your words.

You eyed him back, secretly relishing in the heat of his skin against your own. The dramatic light of a slow dying fire accentuated his features so well, you couldn’t help but stare, eyes flitting from detail to detail.

Both of you had achieved a comfortable level of crossed, but in your inebriated state it definitely felt like you were much more discreet while admiring him.

You were brought back to reality by the feeling of your jaw between his fingers. “You sure it’s not you wishing for it?” Zoro’s voice was low, eyes lidded as he pulled your face level to his own.

The motion sent the first of many tingles down your spine. It’d be a lie to say you haven’t been thinking about him all night.

The subtle flex in his thigh when he shifted his legs wider, how his shirt would raise with every stretch, revealing little green hairs below his naval. His devilish tongue and how it would run up the back of his wide hand when sake splashed out of his cup.

You were much more aroused then you thought you ought to be. His words were tantalizing and your cheekiness won over as you slid from his side to straddle the man's waist, throwing the smoked out tip (the degradable kind) of the joint somewhere on the grass.

You leaned in to him, determined not to go down without some bite back, and offered a lick to the shell of his ear. Your action snapped him out of the pure shock of you in his lap, crotch so close he could almost feel your heat through his clothing.

“And if I am the one wishing?” you purred, hands coming up to caress the junctions between his neck and jaw.

You could feel Zoro’s hands on your waist, they were so thick, strong, holding you perfectly still against his body. “If I am the one thinking about you? Dreaming about just how good I could fuck you,” a hum reverberated in your throat, “What would you say?” you pressed your groin further into him, leaning back to bat your lashes.

Zoro huffed through his nose, a smirk taking over his dreamy features, his left hand sliding to grip the sides of your throat, “Then I would tell you how in over that pretty little head you are.” Alcohol lingered on his breath as he spoke, “How you’re not ready for me to fuck you.”

An airy laugh of disbelief bubbled from your constricted throat.

You had slept around a bit in your years before joining the crew and nearly every time you had sex, you were the one doing the fucking. You had men and women alike losing their minds, so it was amusing to you how bold Zoro had become.

Said man frowned at your reaction, his hold on your neck tightened and he pressed his hips up, which in turn sent a fleeting wave of pleasure to your core.

“You and that fucking laugh, (Y/N).” he all but growled, the intensity of his voice startling you. The way your name had tumbled off his lips had you subconsciously holding your breath. Zoro’s hand moved back to your face, squishing your cheeks a little hard. “So.. mocking, so.. condescending.. somebody’s got to pound that cockiness out of you.”

“Hah- you can fucking try.”

Zoro’s head tilted slightly at the challenge, observing your face for a moment, his eyes wandering, he looked deep in thought. After a second or two, his face was crashing into your own, your gasp was muffled by his lips when the swordsman kissed you. You kissed back as soon as you registered what was happening, grabbing his head, already trying to pull him closer.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth, licking against your own muscle until you reciprocated, which didn’t take long. Your tongues clashed but there was no way you were winning this time. The man quite literally fought battles with that tongue.

Teeth clacked as you took hurried breaths between kisses drowning in the taste of liquor. Zoro’s tongue wrestled yours until your jaw began to ache before drawing away. Deep breaths mingled, eye contact simmering with a drunken passion much deeper than either of you realized at the moment.

Always at each others throats for one stupid reason or the other, it had taken a while for either of you to realize how well one fit with the other. So similar yet just different enough to compliment each other.

Your hand ran through his coarse green curls, “Zoro” you mumbled softly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his temples. The tip of your nose grazed his own as he exhaled a shaky breath. He couldn’t remember the last time you said his name with anything but annoyance or taunting, it was exhilarating, it made his heart pound.

Your lips were so smooth on him, tongues coming to brush against each other again. The kiss was so telling, your arms wrapping around his neck, it felt as if you craved him with your whole soul. Every part of you wanted every part of him.

Zoro’s battle-worn hands ran up and down your side, briefly exploring the plains of your clothed ass before gripping the bottom of your thighs. He hummed with pleasure at the weight of them, pulling you impossibly closer yet removing his lips from your own.

One of his forearms secured itself under your backside before he stood up. You didn’t even wrap your legs around his waist, didn’t need to with the way Zoro had you pinned to his muscular body. You could feel the hard ridges and angles of his sculpted figure.

With his other hand he picked up the two bottles of liquor left outside before making the short trip into the house.

In the meantime your lips found work on the expanse of his neck and broad traps. You licked, kissed, and sucked as hard as you could, determined to leave traces of your presence, a little ‘(Y/N) was here.’

Zoro opened the door with a free finger and quickly made his way to one of the rooms in the far back of the house, locking the door in the process. He grunted when you nipped at his earlobe, tongue massaging the skin behind his piercings. You loved the way the cold metal felt against your face, those earrings were the very first thing you noticed on him and the feeling of them had your pussy clenching.

He placed you down on the bed, now seeming even more massive in front of you. You stood quickly, pressing a heated kiss to his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck. Your hands made quick work of his vacation button up, allowing you more space to kiss his searing skin.

Zoro’s hum was content, grabbing his bottle of sake and taking a few heavy drinks, allowing you to kiss down his figure.

A hand ran lightly down Mihawk's scar on his front before stopping at his haramaki. He pulled it off quickly alongside his shirt, giving you access to his well defined v-line.

You were fucking drooling, it wouldn't be a surprise if you found of out he was the personification of some god, so dangerous, defined. . . delicious. His extensive training was rewarding in too many ways.

You tugged experimentally at the waistband on his shorts, looking Zoro in the eyes when you turned to him, pushing the man to sit on the bed as you sank to your knees. The sight of you so willing to stuff your mouth so full with his dick made Zoro the hardest he thinks he's ever been.

Zoro raised his hips, shimmying out of his pants, bulge even more prominent now, straining against light blue boxers. When he slipped those off too you’re eyes went a bit wide. The man was big, nine inches long and about an inch thick.

His cock slapped against solid abs, a slight curve to the left with a prominent vein on the bottom. The trail of short green hair that decorated his tanned body was in full view and that's when you decided that this must be the best sight in the world. You licked your lips, eager to get a taste of the precum squeezing from his darkened and excited tip.

Gently, you took the base of his dick in hand, leaning it towards you as you collected spit in your mouth. You let a glob dribble down to lubricate him while the green-haired man stared into your eyes.

Before you could move to put your lips on him, he was quick to tilt your chin up, the quarter full handle of whiskey in hand. You opened your mouth, tongue stuck out as you let the man pour liquor down your throat.

You drank eagerly, grabbing Zoro’s wrist when he went to pull the substance away, forcing him to keep pouring. You tightened your hold below his waist, gulping down the liquor and reveling in the burn against your throat.

‘It’s a trailer for the main event’ you reasoned with yourself.

“Fuuuck.” Zoro groaned at the sight, finally placing the bottle down somewhere you couldn't bother to acknowledge.

You licked your lips, smiling up at him the second your tongue finally met his cock, a quick breath left his lips as he studied your movements. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his hot, mushroom-y head, slowly starting to jerk your wet hand up and down his length.

You could hear Zoro's breathing get heavier and it only worked to excite you more, taking his tip into the warmth of your mouth earning a hiss from the divine man before your. Your tongue circled him as your hand increased the speed and pressure of its movements. His dick slid so comfortably in your hand, it didn't matter that you could barely get a proper hold.

An encouraging hand fell to the back of your head, tangling into the wild mane of curls that Zoro oh so adored.

You were surprised at his gentleness, not comprehending how realization had hit him like a truck the moment you lowered yourself between his knees. Here you were, (Y/N) (L/N), the woman who managed to frustrate him to no end, who took over both his active and unconscious mind, who's thought had him whining and finishing himself with an embarrassing vigor.. was right here. Fulfilling a desperate fantasy of his just as eager, maybe even more so, than he was.

With every jerk of your hand, you took the man deeper into your mouth, the first soft groan dripped off his lips and you hummed with some pride. The vibration from your throat caused Zoro to grip at your hair, his back hunching over as the pleasure of your tight lips built higher and higher.

It was a struggle, fighting back your gag reflex, but you successfully covered his entire length, your hand now massaging at his tightening balls.

"Fu-uck your so good at this," Zoro's voice broke slightly at first. His demeanor had changed when he could feel his abdomen clenching, almost painfully, grappling with the conflicting pleasures of leaning back and letting you work his cock so wonderfully or fucking that cute little face.

He chose the latter.

Zoro pulled your head halfway off of him before pushing you back down, ensuing a startled moan and the swallowing of your throat around his heavy cock. "You're such a fucking whore, sucking this dick down your throat. Just can't get enough can you?" he leered, heavy eyes narrowed in your direction.

Your eyes glistened from your efforts as you looked up at him in horny surprise, you could feel an unbearable wetness between your legs from the dirty way he spoke to you. You were the one to drive people insane with your words, but you had to suck it up for now considering his dick was currently plugging your throat. Wet squelching sounded in the room, spit bubbling at the corners of your lips as Zoro began to use your mouth much faster.

Your arousal was rising exponentially as Zoro's strained grunts and cusses became louder and more frequent. They were so guttural, rumbling straight from his chest, you couldn't help but moan out on his cock, slurping and gargling as he face-fucked you to his likening. Your eyes rolled back and spit coated your chin, the feeling of your wet throat fluttering around him was sending him closer and closer to that edge.

He didn't want to cum down your throat, at least not tonight, and you knew that. Zoro tugged at your hair, a half-assed attempt at pulling you off, but your eyes returned to his own, brows furrowed in genuine agitation as you swatted at his hand. You would just have to make him cum again is all.

Taking the reigns, you began to viciously deep throat the swordsman, your hands balanced on the tree stumps he had for thighs; pressing your tongue against the sensitive spot at the very base of his cock and dragging it up before slamming your nose back into curly green hair on his pelvis. "Sh-shit (Y/N), fuck." Zoro groaned out above you, his breaths labored while his hand fisted your roots with a delicious burn.

"Mhmmm" you struggled to moan around him, his balls tightened in your hand and with a few more bobs of your head Zoro was spurting hot streams of viscous cum right down your throat.

You pulled your head off of him with a final harsh suck that had him shuddering, looking Zoro in his lustful eyes as you swallowed his load. He tasted good, a little sweet, salty, and tangy, pretty much everything about sucking Zoro's dick was proving to be both fun and rewarding.

With one last kiss to his sensitive tip, you raised to stand up, the movement of your jeans adding a bit of friction to your neglected core.

Zoro's eye followed you, hands coming to rub up and down your exposed waist as he caught his breath. Carefully, you pulled the cropped tank-top over head, discarding it somewhere in the room. Zoro's fingers fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, popping it open and pulling the zipper down.

You peered into black pupils as his hands tugged on the waist of your bottoms, he had to put in a fair bit of effort to get the material over your behind, "How'd you even get into these?" Zoro wondered more to himself than anything, marveling at the way he could see the sides of your ass jiggle from the front.

Sure Zoro had been with his fair share of women, a few men, but not a single one had captivated him the way you could. They didn’t even come close.

On top of that, only once the man finally managed to get your pants down to your ankles did he notice the soft, bright green, thong-like underwear and black lace bra you were wearing.

A low whistle streamed from Zoro's lips as he eyed you like a full set of weights, he twirled his finger around, "Spin for me," he said, somewhat as a suggestion but you smiled, turning a full 180 and looking back at him over your shoulder. His fingers traced patterns over your hips, your backside his center of attention before you turned back to face him.

"This f’me too?" he tugged at the elastic of your panties, the hue was a close match to his hair, plus, everyone knew that green was his color. Obviously.

You winked, crawling on top to straddle him once more, your wet core pressing against his hardening cock through the fabric. "Maybe they are. I was hoping you'd be taking them off for me."

Zoro groaned into the air, pressing his hips up into yours, his hands on your waist pulling you down. The pressure made you hum with delight, but before you could start to grind on him, Zoro was quick to roll over.

“I did say I’d be the one fucking you.” he pointed out with nonchalance, finally able to admire your form underneath him. Your legs were open, loose around his hips in your drunken confidence, giving Zoro the perfect sight of a little wet patch in your underwear. His thumb pressed on it making you jump a little, he chuckled and teasingly swiped his thumb up your slit.

Looking back up, he saw you had already taken off the bra, tits sitting pretty from your propped upper body. Zoro used his weight to pin you to the bed, his mouth quick to find your own, the kiss was strong and sloppy and left you out of breath as he proceeded to leave a wet trail up your jaw and down your neck.

You took a sharp inhale through your nose when Zoro’s callused fingers grazed over a nipple. It was so uncharacteristic, you thought, how gentle he could be with your body. You were expecting it rough, fast, animalistic… regardless, his touches left you spinning.

Prayers answered, Zoro’s pinches became stronger, making you mewl at the attention he paid your breast. Bites littered your now sensitive chest and upper shoulders as his mouth attached to your aching bud. Soft breaths and sighs flowed from your abused lips, waist squirming in neglect.

You moaned when he sucked, beginning to bite at your flesh. Zoro wanted you screaming, begging, whining under his hands, only to prove that you can’t handle what he can do to you. And trust, the motherfucker is gonna get what he wants.

Realization settled in when his precise wet tongue rimms your nipple, “Fucking tease,” you hissed your words coming out as more of a moan than you had hoped for.

Zoro rolled his eyes at you, letting his gaze traverse your skin as he leaned his weight onto his knees. The clapping sound of his slightly cupped hand coming to smack your pussy forced a struggled moan through your whole body, jerking further up onto the bed.

“Needy slut.” he quipped back, following your hips as his thumb pulled the panties to the side. Zoro’s dick pulsed at the sight of fat lips connected with your glossy essence. His thumb broke the seal of your wetness and the poor man nearly came at the way you leaked all over his finger.

“You’re too wet for your own good,” he chuckled with a hint of genuine admiration, thumb swiping over your entrance, pressing down hard when he found your clit. “Nngh~!” you moaned out, eyes nearly rolling back at the sudden sensation. His other hand grabbing his sake to take a long drink. “You’re not going to be able to take what I can give you, sexy little thing.”

“Oh please” you rolled your eyes with a huff despite feeling yourself tighten up involuntarily “You’re always so fast to talk so grand of yourself.” you keened slightly when you moved your hips against his finger.

“And when’s the last time I didn’t prove it?” Zoro smirked, an evil glint in his eye. The man didn’t give you a chance to even consider an answer before his face was on your pussy. Zoro’s thick arms wrapped around the fat of your ass and thighs, his weight stretching you open, barred out for his viewing pleasure, brown folds glistening in his face like a pretty glazed dessert. He stuffed his nose into your clit, hungrily taking in your scent.

‘Maybe’ you thought, ‘I am in over my head.’ Your face flushed a purple-ish hue, attempts to close your legs proving fruitless versus Zoro's brutish strength. His tongue hurriedly slid into your entrance, the tip just barely filling your hole. He wiggled around, collecting your juices, pushing them to smear over your clit.

A huffed breath left your lips as Zoro's show really began. His trained tongue was sturdy, unwavering in the way he ran tight circles around your bud. "O-ooh my god," your hands flew to grasp at his short, mossy hair in almost no time. The pressure of Zoro's tongue was unmatched, jaw well trained to endure hours of battle, inadvertently making him a pussy (& booty) munching god.

If there were two things Zoro loved, it was drinking and pussy, so being pussy-drunk, of all the ways to experience you, was right up his ally. His tongue was hot and wet, laid flat to engulf all of you before going back to poking and fucking into your sopping entrance. "Z-zoro!" you whimper-cried, no longer able to hold back, every technique he tested on your pussy building onto the last.

Your breathing was labored, you could feel random muscles tensing and straining from the intensity of Zoro's mouth on you. All of the people you slept with had to really put in work to make you cum, but this seemed to be second nature to Zoro, as distant pleasure began to knot in your abdomen.

He was better than your fucking vibrator.

Your pretty moans rang in his ears and he couldn't help but rut his length into the mattress beneath you two, groaning right back into your heat at the stimulation. Zoro popped his mouth off your cunt with harsh a suck to your clit, he wanted at least a glimpse of your face ‘If she sounds this beautiful she must look even better.’ was the general train of thought.

Zoro raised his head slightly, his black eyes narrowed from the angle as he caught sight of your flushed face, mouth parted with tousled hair, your chest rising and falling unevenly. And he was correct, you looked down right ethereal.

A whine bubbled in you at the loss but you were immediately shut up by his tongue back on your clit, rubbing and flicking shapelessly with a new vigor so overwhelming you could immediately feel your walls clenching. He then wiggled the tops of his ring and middle fingers into you, finger pads pushing up at the flesh of your heat.

The vibration of his own grunts were heavenly against your sensitivity, "Mmhmph! Zoro I-" The desperation in your voice caused him to fully thrust his thick fingers into your gaping pussy. The sensation had your back arching in his iron grip, shoulder blades digging into the springs of the mattress.

Your fingers laced together in his hair, pulling his rapid tongue even harder against you. "Z-Zoroo-o” a drawled out pornographic moan ripped from your throat, eyes nearly popping out of your skull. “O-oh, my, god.” your words were gutteral, cut with every gasping breath you could manage while Zoro bullied his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you, such a dirty girl taking my fingers like that.” The man’s smile was devilish as he shifted up a little to watch your face scrunch in ecstasy. “Gonna cum on my fingers baby? You gonna make a mess of these sheets for me?” Zoro’s voice was low and gravely, the alcohol in his system causing him to speak every thought.

And the alcohol in your system had you submitting to his every word, you just couldn't find the willpower to go against him when he was treating your pussy so painfully good. He was so dominating, igniting every nerve along your skin, you nodded hurriedly at his question, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed as he suffocated you with his presence. “Uh-uh” Zoro shook his head, doubling down his efforts and pistoning his digits into you, rocking the bed with his movements. "Gonna have to use your words mama,"

You clenched around him hard, feeling pleasure pool in your knotting abdomen. You were a sucker for pet names and he was unknowingly feeding right into it. "Zoro!" you cried out in his grip, your body running from the intensity, "Zoro Zoro I'm gonna-!"

He brought his tongue back to lick sloppy lines all over your clit and the area surrounding, he held you in place with one arm, your body in too much ecstasy to fight back. Zoro's ears were met with a ringing cry, "Zoro! I'm cumming!" your legs trembled in place around his neck, nails digging into his scalp. Zoro sucked lightly on your clit, drawing out your orgasm as you continued to cream all over his fingers and chin.

“Mm, you taste better than I thought." He crawls up to lay a chaste kiss on your bitten lips, eying your chest as you try to regulate your breathing. "That was so good," you admitted in a state of post-orgasmic delirium.

"Was?" Zoro questioned, his mouth closing in on your own, trailing you into another breathless, crushing kiss. You could just feel that sly-shit eating grin on face as again he locked your lower half in his meaty arms again with a speed you forgot he possessed. This time he pushed your legs up almost like a mating press. His thumbs were hooked into the backs of your thighs, fingertips on the bed, the force of his hands more than enough to render you more or less immobile once again.

Your hands grasped at the sides of his head, tugging it between your calves to press a heated kiss to his mouth. You moaned softly against his lips, tongues wet and hot against one another.

Your heart raced in its place, you couldn't do anything but stare, frozen in drunken anticipation as he glided back down your golden figure, hazy, sex driven eyes locked on your own with that billion bounty smile.

Both knees were pinned to your shoulders by his massive hands alone, broad arms stretched up to lock you in place. “You said you could take it, right?” Zoro mused, there wasn’t even time to contemplate his words before Zoro’s forefingers came to cling behind your waist. The man proceeded to lift your entire fucking body into the air. Immediately his hot mouth cupped the whole of your pussy, angling you such that the only way to balance was with your core on his face and your hands clutching at his hair.

Zoro’s tongue reached far deeper into your sensitive cunt than before and there was nothing you could do but try to accept the overwhelming pleasure he poured into you. A coarse moan ripped through your throat as his tongue began to move rapidly against the wet surface of your pussy. Your core clenched and burned with the effort it took to stay up straight. His nose nudged and bumped upwards against your clit sending an addictive pleasure throughout your figure.

“Zo- Zoro-!” your overstimulated cries were as desperate as he was relentless. The sight of his firm arms supporting your weight coupled with the feeling of Zoro’s menacingly strong tongue licking and stretching your poor little pussy out made it impossible to ignore the white pleasure that blinded your nerves with zero warning.

“OhMyGodZoro-! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Your climax hit you full force, and you whimpered beautifully into the air. You glanced down in your struggle to regain breath, eyes widening at the sight of Zoro’s face, neck and even shoulders soaked. There was a successful glimmer in his eye. “Squirter and a creamer” he grinned, the movements of his lips against your sensitivity made your face bloom with heat and your body twitch in his grasp. “Put me down” You huffed out breathlessly and rolling your eyes at his comment. The pressure of his structured face on your core was not aiding in the recovery from your second orgasm of the night.

“If you insist.”

You could feel his sinister intent as soon as he shuffled to lock his elbows under your knees, securing his large hands around your waist Zoro held your body against the surface of the bed. Your fingers digging into his forearms as he lifted your lower half into the air.

A hoarse moan of his name drew his attention to you, your hand ran down the length of his arm, fingertips brushing at his lips, still wet and shiny. It was your attempt at getting him slow down if only for a second. Zoro’s face drew a wide drunken smile as he folded you slightly to press a kiss to your wanting mouth. Emotions were all over the place what with your body singeing with pleasure and his need to make you feel good. His kiss absolutely melted you, body relaxing into him.

Zoro studied your messy, post-orgasm face with satisfaction, he held your sexy, arched body such that the tip and underside of his hot dick was running up and down your slit with the movement of his hips. You groaned, you could feel your pussy blooming to finally take him despite being licked raw minutes before.

He let a bit of spit fall onto your pulsing clit, adding to the feeling of your wetness against his cock.

“What’d ya say?”

Zoro’s voice had your lidded gaze pulling off his pretty dick to his face. “Hmm?” Your voice was tired and strained and the emptiness of your needy hole was wearing your patience thin. “What, do you, say?” he repeated himself slowly, your confusion chipping at your arousal. “Zoro-“ your attitude was quickly resurfacing, the swordsman could hear it in your voice.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, interrupting your attempt at protesting by filling you completely with his dick. He wanted to keep you this cute and submissive, at least until the end of the night. “Oh fuck” there were stars in your eyes with the way Zoro stretched you out, a beautiful pressure emanating from your core. An unfiltered moan erupted from his chest and made you clench hard on him.

“The answer was please~” His hips drew back before pushing into your plush walls with a seductive roll of his waist line. Zoro could admit he was showing off a little, but the way you openly ogled his figure between your legs and moaned with unabashed lust at the sight made him all the more eager to undo you on his dick.

A deep hum reverberated in his chest as he continued to offer long strokes to your quivering pussy. “Z-zoro~” desire dripped off your tongue and your legs stretched wider with an addictive burn. Zoro raised a brow, continuing his just too slow pace. “Little slut, acting like you want more like you weren’t just pushing my face away.” Your face ran a flushed shade of purple at his words, the way he treated you was dynamic and had your already inebriated mind spinning in the best way possible.

Zoro picked up his pace, his eyes catching yours, daring you to look away from him. Both of you knew you couldn’t, even with your eyes nearly rolling back from the way he was fucking you. Hips snapping, pussy squelching with the aftermath of his tongue, his dick was filling you up so perfectly. There was a burn in your stomach when Zoro’s hands squeezed tighter at your waist, your own scratching at what you could reach of his broad shoulders.

There was a stutter in your voice and your body jerked at his intensity. “Mmmh, Zoroo~ Y-you’re gonna make me cum againn” you drawl out to the man. Zoro’s lucid motions were unfazed.

“Then cum.”

The way his gaze burned solidified Zoro’s demand. Your eyes actually rolled back this time as your body was proving itself to be his to command. You came hard again, Zoro fucking you straight through your third orgasm. Your whimpers were a few octaves higher as he allowed your lower half to hit the mattress, pushing you down into a mating press. Dick still in you Zoro actually started to sped up.

“W-wait Zoro-“ you tried to plead with him, you could feel your body falling into a numb yet increasingly pleasurable tingle, it was too much. “Wait?” Zoro slowed down just a little, body curling over yours, nose pressing into your cheek as he tried to drowned himself in your scent, “for what?”. Your face reddened and he bit back a smile as he felt you growing flustered.

Zoro’s hips still sliding in and out of you, “I-“ he thrusted sharply watching your eyes threaten to cross at the sudden sensation.

“You…?” he teased, returning to a slow pace that he could feel was getting you impossibly wetter.

“Zoro! It’s too much!” you whined out in frustration, tears beading at your lash line. Your arms were now around his neck, clawing at the expanse of his upper back. “Aww, what happened baby?” he cooed, Zoro’s lips were at your ear as he picked up some speed,

“Can’t handle it?”

You couldn’t even remember having said those words to him earlier, but there was a victoriously cheeky smile on his rugged face when you shook your head fast. Tears rolled onto your plump cheeks, a strangled moan escaping your lips when you fully u understood that he was not finished with you yet.

“Zoro ple-ease!” the tone of your voice was desperate, for more or less you couldn’t tell.

“One more mama, j-just gimme one more.” his voice was lustful and slurred as he began to piston his dick right into your g-spot, balls slapping against your ass. You choked his name out as legibly as possible, your whines and moans were pitched and short of breath as you felt your eyes losing focus.

Zoro marveled at the sight of you, pretty curvy body smushed under his weight, there was spit dribbling from the corner of your mouth and your eyes crossed threatening to close. A slap to the side of you ass just barely had your attention back on Zoro as he rose to his knees after stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss.

You were so tight and warm around him Zoro knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thumb rubbed fast circles into your clit earning a high moan of his name. “Mm such a tight fucking pussy,” Zoro growled out, committing to memory the way you mewled and your body trembled.

He used the corner of his palm, right under his thumb, to brush away stray tears on your face. “You’re so pretty like this,” he gasped, hips stuttering at the way you gripped him from the praise.

“Z-zoro,” his name seemed to be the only thing coming out of your mouth and he was enjoying it to its fucking fullest.

“Fuck (Y/N)…” Your green haired wonder was breathless, mesmerized by the way sweat glistened over the hickies he left across your chest. “Fuck,” Zoro’s thumb moved faster, body leaning back in so to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You grabbed the side of his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you, whimpering into his mouth Zoro felt your body quake harder.

“Go ahead, baby,” he managed to grunt out between powerful, erratic thrusts. With a final moan of his name against his lips you were squeezing almost too tight as you gushed and spasmed around his cock.. “Fuck!” Zoro leaned his weight on his elbows, his body relaxing over you as he spilled into your pretty cunt.

A light groan was pulled from your swollen lips when Zoro pulled himself from you, he watched, biting the inside of his lip, as a mix of you both leaked onto the curve of you ass and down to the bedsheets. It made him wanna fuck you again.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to regulate yourself. Zoro rolled, the skin of his back finding relief against the cool sheets beside you. You could hear him breath deeply through his nose, knowing his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping.

A few moments of silence were followed by Zoro watching with one eye as you shuffled slowly on the bed, reaching over his head to grab a still-open bottle of liquor from the bed stand.

He licked at your titty you didn’t realize had been hung over his face, your body tensed for a second and you couldn’t really fight the smile that graced your features despite smacking his head lightly. You leaned on your side, facing Zoro with one arm propping your head up. He turned slightly to face you, a hand coming to trace shapes on your still trembling hips.

He grinned at the fact, watching as you drank a shot or two.

“I told ya you couldn’t handle it.”

———————

hehe, thx for reading :)

#zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #zoro smut #one piece headcanons #zoro headcanons #x female reader #one piece x female reader #black female reader #smut #first smut

[pkmn-xy-squad]

“Aha! You can cut the formalities, there’s no need for ‘em here.” Ryme told him.

“Now that you’ve gotten houndstone all riled up, how about a battle?”she asked.

Hailey nods. She shuffles her hand around in her bag.

“Oh I wasn’t taking to you, Miss Neo Champion.” She stops her.

“You wish to battle me then, I take it?” Jacques asked, pointing to himself uncertainly.

“Right on.” Ryme asserts. “I do double battles, you in?” She asked.

“I suppose it would be rude of me to decline, we came all this way to meet you. I accept.” Jacques answers.

Ryme recalls her houndstone, and leads the three of them outside, just a little aways from the building. There was a battle court set up, complete with stage lights and speakers.

She assends the small set of stairs on one side of the court, and Jacques does on the opposite side. He looked down nervously off the stage into the audience where Hailey and Emma were standing. Emma was holding Mimi under her arms, and Hailey had her Delphox with her to keep the cold away.

“It’s okay, We’ll be here the whole time.” Hailey assured him.

“Don’t forget we’re cheering for you!” Emma exclaimed.

Delphox gave a cheerful cry.

“Thank you, I will give it my best.” Jacques told them. He then got into position for the battle to start.

*You are challenged by Gym Leader Ryme!*

"My music's not all that tops the charts—my skills with Ghost types are the best around!

Lest you forget it, the name is Ryme, and I'm known as the MC of RIP! Dead or alive, let's make this a vibe!” She declares.

*Ryme sends out Banette and Mymiku!*

“Go Chesnaught and Simisage! I know you can do it!” He declares, sending out his first two Pokémon.

Jacques assessed the match ups. He didn’t have a Pokédex like Hailey to tell him the types and names of his opponent’s Pokémon, but he could already tell this was going to be a tough fight.

“Chesnaught, use Spiky Shield, and Simisage use Leaf Storm!” He commanded.

Chesnaught shielded itself from oncoming attacks, and Simisage let loose a barrage of swirling leaves. They thwapped harmlessly off of its partner, but cut into Banette. Oddly, Mimikyu didn’t seem to be bothered by the swirling leaves.

*mimikyu’s disguise was busted!*

What appeared to be its head flopped over to the side, as if it had broken its neck. The real Pokémon was in the bottom portion of the body, and the attack had now rendered the Pokémon vulnerable.

“Your power’s a real threat! But the party is still goin’—I haven't lost yet!" Ryme sang.

*Mimikyu used Light Screen! A barrier protects the opposing team against special moves!*

*Banette uses Icy Wind!*

A frigid blast of air blows from Ryme’s team.

*Chesnaught protected itself!*

It held strong against the wind using its shield.

*Its super effective against Simisage!*

*Simisage fainted!*

The cold blast of air turned out to be more than it could take, and Jacques recalled it.

*Will you switch Pokémon?*

*Yes

*No

“Corviknight, let’s go! I know you can do it!” He declared, sending out the large armored bird.

“Chesnaught, use Frenzy Plant!” He commanded.

It dropped its shield and punches the ground with its fists, running giant roots under the ground to attack Banette. The roots surface, and slap Banette forcefully, taking its remaining HP.

*Banette fainted!*

*Gym Leader Ryme sent out Spiritomb!*

Immediately as the Pokémon entered the field, Jacques began to hear voices. Some were whispering indecipherable nonsense, others were screaming in indescribable pain and anguish. They were all overlapping each other, and they were so loud. He tried to cover his ears to muffle the sound, but the voices didn’t dampen. It was a supernatural sound, and as he glanced around, the others didn’t seem to be able to hear it.

*Spiritomb used Curse!*

There was the sound of a nail being hammered into the Pokémon.

*Spiritomb cut its own HP and put a curse on Chesnaught!*

Chesnaught and Corviknight looked back at him, concerned. Chesnaught looked sickly from the Curse damage.

*Your Pokemon seem to be curious about your fashion.*

He had to try to give them commands, but he couldn’t think straight. There was too much noise in his head. He had to try to do something, do anything!

“Corviknight….use Metal Claw…” He was able to get out.

Corviknight spread its giant wings and leapt at Mimikyu, but Mimikyu was able to slink out of the way of its slashing metal talons.

*Mimikyu used Play Rough! It’s super effective against Chesnaught!*

*Chesnaught fainted!*

Jacques recalled his Pokémon.

*Will you switch Pokémon?*

*Yes

*No

“Sirfetch'd, I need you!” He sent out his next pokemon.

He had to get Mimikyu off the field so it wouldn’t knock out any more of his Pokémon. At the same time, the voices of the damned emanating from Spiritomb were relentless. He had to push through the noise to command his Pokémon before it became overwhelming.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, Hailey and Emma could see that he was struggling with something.

“Is Jacques okay? He looks like he’s straining himself.” Hailey commented to Emma, concerned.

“I know. Mimi says it’s the voices. She hears them too.” Emma replies.

“Voices? I don’t hear any other voices-“ Hailey started.

She thought on it a minute.

“Wait-the Spiritomb!” She exclaimed.

Emma nodded.

Back on the battle stage, Jacques was trying hard to filter his own thoughts through the incessant noise in his head.

“Corviknight….” He began.

“Use..Flash Cannon..” He commanded through gritted teeth. The pupil in his left eye had gone slit, glowing intensely with a pale blue energy. He quickly covered it with his left hand, but the energy could still be seen leaking through the cracks in between his fingers.

This time, Corviknight’s attack lands.

*It’s super effective against the opponent’s Mimikyu!*

*Corviknight landed a critical hit, wishing to be praised!*

*The opponent’s Mimikyu fainted!*

“Good job, my friend.” Jacques praised it, his voice strained.

*Gym leader Ryme sent out Houndstone!*

Jacques shuttered. Dog Pokémon always unnerved him, but he couldn’t say why. At any rate, that wasn’t the Pokémon he should focus his attention on now. He had to get Spiritomb off the field before it incapacitated him.

“Sirfetch’d, let’s end this, now! Use Brave Bird! Corviknight, use Flash Canon!” He mustered up the strength to command his Pokémon.

Sirfetch’d lowered its lance in a charge position. In a flurry of wind of feathers, it charged at spiritomb. It connected, taking out the pokemon.

*spiritomb fainted!*

The eerie voices Jacques had been hearing went silent. He could finally hear himself think. He shook his head to clear it and readjusted his stance.

Corviknight fired a burst of metallic burst of energy at Houndstone, but it didn’t seem to do very much.

*the opposing Houndstone used Play Rough!*

*It’s super effective against Sirfetch’d!*

*Sirfetch’d fainted!*

Will you send out your next Pokémon?

*Yes

*No

“Charcadet, let’s go!” Jaques called, sending out his next Pokémon. Things were looking rough. He only had Gallade left after that.

*Ryme sent out Toxtricity!*

“Wait, that isn’t a Ghost type!” He exclaimed, confused.

Ryme pulled out her tera orb.

"Kick back, relax, and enjoy this last track. Turn it up for a grave-rattlin' good time!" She announced as she terastalized her Pokémon.

In front of the stage where Emma and Hailey were standing, the ground began to shift as several greviard unburied themselves from the dirt. They shook off the dirt and snow from themselves and excitedly wagged their tails. Another one wiggled its way up on to one of the speakers and was doing a happy little dance.

"When I'm on the mic, even the dead rise up! DJ G-Rave over there's sure feelin' it!" Ryme sang.

The gleam from the terastilization faded and Jacques looked over at it again.

“It changed types?!” He exclaimed, even more confused than before. He looked down at Hailey.

“That’s something that they can do now?!” He asked her over the loud music. She just shrugged. She didn’t know that they could do that now, either.

“Corviknight, use Fly! Charcadet, use Flame Charge!”

Corviknight flaps its giant wings and takes off, flying high above the battle stage.

“Put your SOUL into it, Toxtricity! Let's bring the power!” Ryme declared.

*The Opposing Toxtricity uses Hex!*

*Corviknight avoids the attack!*

Charcadet’s flames flare up, as it strikes houndstone with flame charge. It doesn’t seem to do very much damage but Houndstone is now looking a little tired. Charcadet is also looking tired, but is still determined to fight on.

*Corviknight uses Fly!*

Corviknight descends on Houndstone in a powerful dive, taking it out.

*Houndstone fainted!*

It was now two on one match. If Jacques could just knock out her last Pokémon, he could win.

“Corviknight, use Flash Canon! Charcadet, use Astonish!” He commanded.

Corviknight let out another blast of metallic energy. It did some damage, but not enough to knock it out.

*Toxtricity used Overdrive!*

Toxtricity strummed the scales on its chest, making a sound that was like an electric shockwave.

*It’s super effective on Corviknight!*

*Corviknight fainted!*

*Charcadet fainted!*

“Ack!” Jacques flinched back from the noise.

*Would you like to switch Pokémon?*

*Yes

*No

“Gallade, let’s go! I know you can do it!” He declared, sending out his final Pokémon.

“So it comes down to this. Very well then.” He commented. He removed his left hand from his face, closing his eye. Pale blue energy could still be seen leaking from it. He touched his hand to his mega brooch on his right shoulder where ghimighoul was still sitting.

“Gallade, Mega Evolve!” He called out. A pulsing bright light radiated from the stone as it synchronized its power with the galladeite his Pokémon held. A bright burst of energy surrounded it, followed by a flicker of rainbow flame as the energy faded. Mega Gallade now stood opposing Tera Toxtricity, ready to go.

Jacques put his hand back over his eye.

“Alright. Now use Psycho Cut!” He commanded.

Toxtricity put its arms up in front of its face as Mega Gallade slashed into it with blades made of psychic energy.

*The Opposing Toxtricity used Hex!*

*It’s Super Effective!*

Mega Gallade takes a good deal of damage, but is still standing.

“Use Shadow Ball!” Jacques commands. Mega Gallade puts its hands out and casts a ball of ghostly energy at Toxtricity. It is still standing, but barely. It looks exhausted.

*Toxtricity uses Hex!*

*It’s Super effective!*

Mega Gallade reverted to its origional form and collapses as Jacques recalled it.

*You lost against Gym Leader Ryme!*

“Hah! Great battle—chilling AND thrilling!” Ryme laughed. The teralization on her Toxtricity faded.

“We have been bested this time. Well done.” Jacques congratulated her. He removes his hand from his face. The pale blue glow had faded and his pupil had returned to normal.

They descend from the stage.

“You did good!” Emma tells him.

“Are you alright? You looked like you were struggling up there.” Hailey asked him with concern.

“I’m alright now, just tired. That Spiritomb gave me a lot of trouble.” He responded.

“I noticed that during our battle.” Ryme commented. “Don’t think I didn’t see what was going on with you.” She waved her finger, gesturing to him.

He felt anxiety welling up in the pit of his stomach. He knew what she was going to ask next. Even though it was the reason they came here in the first place, it didn’t make him feel any less nervous.

“You’re a ghost, aren’t you?” She posed.

There was a moment of tense silence before he answered.

“Y-yes, You’re right. I am.” He stammered nervously. The tassels on the ends of his scarf began to twitch.

Ryme put a hand to her chin.

“Now things are starting to make a bit more sense. That’s why you came all the way out here to see me, isn’t it.” Ryme commented.

“You are correct.” Hailey replied. “We need your expertise, if you wouldn’t mind.” Hailey explained.

“Oh, not at all!” Ryme responded.

“May suggest we continue this conversation inside? I need a moment to rest before we continue. This body of mine feels like it will give out at any moment.” Jacques informed them.

“Why didn’t you say that before?!” Haliey exclaimed, concerned.

They make their way back to the gym building. Once inside, they take the elevator up to Ryme’s office, where they can continue the conversation in private.

#pokémon trainer hailey #pokémon trainer jacques #pokemon au #paldean arc #paldea arc #rotumblr #gotta psychologically torture the man a little bit #sorry this one is long #I suck at writing battles #Pokémon trainer Emma

[charulein]

After spending most of yesterday playing ffxiv with my free trial ending and all, I had decided to see how far in shadowbringers I can get and...

It's not looking good lads

Look, I love G'raha - I mean the Exarch, as much as anyone, right, but after sitting through what felt like hours of exposition and worldbuilding I was exhausted. Picking up Alisae was at least a little reprieve from all that, with more emotional beats to it, though of course the one character I actually start liking dies to show us what the deal with the sin eaters is...

Then came Alphinauds exhausting exposition bonanza, and at this point I just read the dialogues and clicked on to be done as fast as possible - Norvrandt isn't particularly pretty and extremely depressing, and the music too dissonant and eerie to want to listen to it longer than is absolutely necessary.

Then you get inside this filthy kingdom blablabla king bad blabla alphinaud sad blablabla

At least the dungeon broke up the tediousness. I think it was pretty decent, the battle music went off, and I can't help but adore the visual design of the Sin Eaters - eery and statue-like, with eyes of bleeding darkness. Since my friends weren't around, I did it with the npcs and I have my complaints, but that system isn't really all that relevant.

What is, is the fact that only the Warrior of Light can absorb the light aether, which makes sense with the Echo and all, and everyone acting... Surprised? Like, wasn't that supposed to be the working part of your plan? I also don't particularly like being called Warrior of Darkness, but alas, that's not too annoying in the big picture.

Amd then comes the part that will make or break this expac for me: my beloved Minfilia.

I really hated the matter of factly exposition on her, how she saved this sorry world and keeps suffering for it. Like, i think this would have been a lot more emotionally impactful to experience firsthand, and not for a boring npc to read from a book....... Another thing that riled me up immensely was the twins being more worried about Thancred reacting to the news about Minfilia than the WoL.

It was my impression that during ARR, Minfilia and the WoL grow close, Minfilia even choosing to confide in you personally time and time again - and all this gets ignored by the narrative. Oh the WoL doesn't care, oh the WoL got over it etc. Honestly, the scions don't quite care about Stubborn too much, compared to Aymeric or Hien...

Anyways, despite knowing that this isn't Yucca's Minfilia, I couldn't help but shed tears at the prospect of seeing her again. I really really miss her, and ffxiv just isn't the same with her absence... I know it's not her, but I hope that she can come back home to Eorzea with Yucca, that she can finally see her family again!!!

So yeah, so far I'm absolutely not impressed with Shadowbringers, but I'll continue once I resub in September, so let's see if the writing improves after this ambling introduction.

#Charu plays ffxiv #Shadowbringers is so tedious so far xd #But I have the feeling that that opinion is quite unpopular #I loved Heavensward and I liked Stormblood #Though the latter was dragging itself in the beginning too #But those two had exciting character-driven stories!!!! #Whereas shadowbringers just.... Doesn't have any charismatic characters to care about xd #And I don't care about worldbuilding #I find it tedious and boring most of the time #i really hope we can bring back minfilia

[kagesnotebook]

Tap Tap Tap..

(Leviathan x Reader)

word count: 1.1k

NSFW: suggestive content, implied consensual somnophilia

Tap tap tap..

Hard tapping of keys, muffled battle music coming from his headphones, and the occasional frustrated grunt is all that could be heard from inside Levi's room. Yet, with how little noise there was, you couldn't find the ability to drift to sleep. no amount of shifting from position to position or flipping your pillow to a cooler side could lull you into slumber. no, what you needed was the sweet, warm, and comfortable hug of your boyf

"FUCK!"

End... you sigh.

Sitting up from Levi's oddly comfortable bed-tub, you glance over. A large silhouette outlined by flashing bright colors sits at a desk. It's almost kind of beautiful to see him in such lighting, the blue hue of his room complimented his features..what little features you could see in the dark lit up by his screen.

You decide to stare at him for just a bit longer, eyes wondering down to his keyboard..long slender fingers swishing back and forth across the board.. Talented fingers flicking oh so fast on his mouse. You bite your lip. if only he'd use those hands to play a better game. You shake your head, now was not the time to get yourself all riled up; besides the urge to sleep was much stronger than the urge to fuck at the moment. Another time, you thought.

After enough admiring, you climbed out of the tub and stride your way over to him. Levi didn't even spare a glance, too engrossed in his game to pay attention to his surroundings. You peer over his shoulder, trying to keep up with the fast pace movements on the screen, but your tired eyes couldn't quite comprehend it all, you'll ask about it later.

Tap tap tap..

was he that dense? Not noticing your constant shifting, getting up, literally standing RIGHT behind him? he must be quite focused.. You smirk.

Leaning down by his headphones, you lift it for just a moment, blowing a puff of air into his ear.

"ACK-"

he accidentally slams his hand on his keyboard at the feeling, almost pushing his chair back and falling out, luckily he had caught himself.

"(y-y/n)! d-dont use a sneak a-attack on me like that! . .what..uhm..what are you d-doing up so late?"

He gulps, looking away all red-faced. Even after making your relationship official, he still manages to be flustered at every touch, look, or action you do or give him. It's honestly quite flattering, that he still has those same butterflies around you, like the spark is never gone. You smile down at him, patting his head as if it calms him down.

"Couldn't sleep"

You tell him simply. Levi only nods in understanding, still looking away from you. Silence ensues...

Tap tap tap..

he's nervously shaking his leg, his foot making a tapping sound on the ground not similar to the clacking of keyboard keys. he grows more nervous by the minute, starting to let out little gasp and noises. was he trying to say something? You open your mouth, ready to ask what's on his mind when suddenly

"D-..DOYOUWANNASITINMYLAP?!"

he looks up at you nervously, wide-eyed and sweating just a tad, the shaking if his legs only growing.. You're too stunned by the outburst to give an immediate answer.

"I.. I uhm..well if you can't uh..can't sleep that I thought.. I thought that if you..you sit in my.." he gulps. "My 1-1-lap then.. then you'd be comfortable and uh..and we could..cuddle u-until..you fall asleep"

His head slowly hangs as he looks down in his lap, where his hands are fidgeting.

"I-i understand if..of you don't want to I..you don't ha..have to I get it.. I-i'm a gross otaku w-why would you wanna s-sit in- ACK?!"

You stop him in the middle of that awful self-deprecating sentence by plopping yourself square on his thighs. You honestly can't stand when he does that.. Saying such untrue and hurtful things about himself..and you'd tell him that! if you weren't so..so darn tired right now. so instead you settle for simply snuggling your head into his neck, humming with a nod. Hopefully that gets the message across.

Levi goes rigid under you, spitting and sputtering at the action. Sure he had offered, but he still wasn't ready for your..soft ass to be planted on his lap. Let him prepare himself! Slowly he starts to settle, muscles relaxing as he snakes his arms around you in a gentle hug, so light as if he's afraid he'd hurt you.

"J-just..gets comfortable a and..relax.. I'll uhm.. I'll take c care of you"

Gah! When did he get so romantic? your face flushes red. Despite the stuttering mess he is, that line was just so cool and suave, what a sweetheart you think.

You nod, shifting on top of him just a bit to find the optimal position. your bottom wiggling on his lap had him tensing up all over again.

"h-haa"

he lets out a breath, trying to regain his composer once you had gotten comfortable. Though this was quite difficult when the tent in his sweats had started to grow. All you wanted was to go to sleep nothing more nothing less! Why did he have to be such a pervert? You're relaxing, and he's.. he's getting a hard on! How disgusting how gro

His thoughts are interrupted when you start to grind down on him. Did you notice?! You had felt it..he really is the worst!

"(y-y/n).."

he moans out as you grind on him just a tad harder. You hum into his neck, sleep finally trying to take its hold on yo

"Levi... I'm tired.."

You sigh, lazily moving yourself up and down his lap.

"if I fall..asleep you can.." you yawn. "Keep using me"

Levi felt like he was about to burst. You gave him permission to..to touch and play with you..in your sleep?!

Levi became suddenly very aware of his surroundings once your grinding stopped. How long was he freaking out for you to already fall asleep? The lack of friction allowed him to focus on the room..his game still running in the background through his headphones, the slight aquatic ambiance from Henry's large tank, and your..your steady breathing on his neck.

He looks down at you, arms still loosely wrapped over you. he can the curve of your back as you lay chest to chest.. Levi lets an arm drop, a shaky hand coming in contact to the curve of your

"s..so..soft"

Tap tap tap..

His finger drum against your bottom, his nervousness suddenly washing away. You weren't awake, no need to be nervous if you're not even conscious of his actions?

Levi smirks, grabbing into your bottom with more force, eliciting a small grown from your sleeping form. He was going to have so much fun.

oh my gosh! thank you for reading really. I'm honestly so nervous as my writing is kind of poor ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ I'm a huge Levi simp so hopefully this lives up to the others standards! I wish oh so badly for Levi to mess with me in my sleep smh 😳 If this gets enough attention I might do a part 2 with the actual spicy stuff 👁️🫦👁️ lemme know if you want that! thank you again, loves!

#obey me #leviathan x reader #obey me smut #shall we date leviathan #leviathan smut #om! leviathan #obey me x reader #x reader #somnophilia

[sonufabitchhhhh]

Metal Family - Dee x Reader:

She Fuckin’ Hates Me

-

Summary: y/n and Dee never got along. Both were highly intelligent and competitive students. They always seemed to butt heads, but what neither knew was that they both secretly admired the other's traits, that they simply didn't have. It takes time for them to realise they're more similar than they thought. Dee x Reader

Masterlist Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Y/n and Dee were at each other's throats, as per usual. Y/n got riled up easily, while Dee kept his witty, sarcastic remarks cool and collected. That's not to say he wasn't thoroughly annoyed - one more word and y/n knew he'd have a mini outburst, as aggravated people tend to do.

They both knew just how to push each other's buttons, and what the sure signs of victory were, knowing what got under the other's skin.

Anyone would tell you that the two were polar opposites. They would tell you that, past their common academic goals, the two had nothing in common. This wasn't true. They actually had many common interests, but neither ever paid enough attention to notice this, and everyone else only cared about the verbal battles rather than a possible make-up.

Y/n was high-strung and constantly stressed, Dee was calm, stoic, and collected. While Dee had a deep appreciation for art and music, he couldn't make them himself for shit, but to y/n, the arts came naturally as they often sketched and wrote music, playing in their band.

Y/n wanted Dee's ability to keep his cool, to not give a fuck about what people are saying, but not take shit all the same.

Dee wanted y/n's artistic skill, wanted to play instruments and read and write music, wanted to sketch and draw whatever came to mind.

In short, they were jealous of each other, and every time one of them bested each other in their common skill - knowledge, and academics - they took it hard, and personally, only fuelling their war.

-

All lesson, y/n and Dee had been fighting for the top spot in class, trying to answer more questions than the other, and trying to finish their work the quickest.

Their teacher was not dumb, and although he encouraged friendly competition, their rivalry had gotten out of hand.

That's right. It was partner project time!

When the teacher had announced a partner project, both were annoyed before they even knew the worst of it. Partner projects were annoying because it meant that they had to rely on someone else to help them get the grade they deserve, or end up doing twice the usual work alone.

It was then that the pre-chosen partners started to be announced... they listened and waited patiently for their names to be called.

It didn't take long for the outrage to settle in once their names were called together.

"Sir! You can't pair me with them!" Dee all but screamed across the room.

"The first and last time I'll ever say this, but I agree! We cannot work together!" Y/n hurriedly chimed in.

They teacher stopped reading off his list, anticipating this sort of reaction. "And why not?"

Dee sputtered for a minute with no good reason other than he didn't like them. It was times like this that y/n's stubborn and argumentative nature came in really handy.

"If you pair us together then our attitudes will clash and we won't be able to get anything done! If you pair with someone we're more compatible with, we're more likely to get better grades." Y/n shot back, fully expecting their argument to win.

They were, however, wrong. "Yes, but my prime goal is to prepare you for the real world. Sometimes you'll get paired with someone you don't like, and you'll have to make the best of it." Their teacher spoke carefully, words already prepared for their backlash. "Besides, you're both very bright students, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Now no more on the subject."

Y/n and Dee glared at their teacher one more time before finally giving up and stewing with rage in their seats.

-

When the lesson ended, Dee reluctantly went over to y/n. "Do you want study at your place or mine?"

Y/n eyed him cautiously. "Who says we have to study at either? We can always study in the library."

"No, because the library closes sooner, giving us less time. Not to mention, we'd probably get kicked out for screaming at each other after five minutes of work."

He had a point.

"Fine. We'll go to my place after school, meet me outside."

-

A/N: ok, I wasn't planning to, but I'm going to make this a two-parter, because it's already longer than I expected. Let me know what you think, and feel free to request!

Hope you have a great day/night,

~ SonofaBeach

#metal family #metal family dee x reader #dee metal family #Dee #enemies to lovers #rivals #dee x reader #vicki metal family #glam metal family #heavy metal family #gender neutral

[marvelousescapism]

unpopular hc: post serum steve is actually a great dancer and there's no canon reason to say he wouldn't be. like he didn't have the energy and couldn't hear music too well before the serum but you're telling me mr genetically engineered perfection with probably enhanced senses wouldn't have an enhanced sense of rhythm too? Slander. the man started going to ballet/ballroom class to keep himself busy in the future (+ itd help in combat probably bc dancers kick like horses)

first off this hc is great because it makes sense, look at how this mf moves while he fights:

second of all this hc is great because it could start out so angsty

like, maybe circa 2011-pre-Battle-of-New-York-2012, when Steve goes to his gym one evening, he hears music he recognizes for once - music from the 40s - down the hall, and he's obviously irresistably pulled to it, and it turns out it's a swing dance class! and he's mesmerized because not only is everyone dancing like they used to but everyone's dolled up in 40s dress style (nothing is historically accurate but it's still jarring to see)

and he sits on the side and watches (just like he always used to do while Bucky danced with girls as he gave Steve bedroom eyes over their shoulders from across the room) but people keep beckoning him up and eventually he caves and joins in, and he warns everyone who takes a turn with him that he has two left feet, but he surprises himself with how quick he picks it up. and it'd be bittersweet because those classes very quickly become the highlight of his week, but he can never stop thinking if only Bucky could see me now...

he'd stop going after the Battle of New York though, once "Captain America's return to the 21st Century" stops being a conspiracy theory and starts being a newspaper headline :(

but the third thing that makes this hc so great is it would be so funny when Bucky gets back

maybe a couple years since he's settled and he's comfortable going out more and being more social, Steve encourages him to come with him back to swing classes, and Bucky's riling him up while they're on the way there like "you sure, Rogers? you can take the bench any time! I won't think less of you if you stand on my toes!" and Steve's like "😏😏 ok Buck"

and as soon as they're on the dancefloor Steve's swinging him around like a professional, and Bucky's too blown away by how well Stevie "Two Left Feet" Rogers can dance now that he doesn't let him dance with anyone else the whole night (and on the way back home he's so torn between joy and outrage because "you're such a good dancer now and that's great, but it's not fair!! I was supposed to teach you how to dance properly!!" "if it upsets you so much we don't have to--" "--hell no, we're going every week now! I'm gonna kick your ass next time!" "it's not a competition, Buck" "it is and I will win!" "whatever you say, sweetheart")

#if anyone wants to write this 👀👀👀👀👀 #steve rogers #steve rogers headcanon #stucky #bucky barnes #i still love the Steve Can't Dance hc but this is just as beautiful thank you for opening my eyes anon #also i miss going to swing classes so much #i used to go to them before uni and i havent been able to go since 💔 #ask #anonymous

[griffintail]

I dunno if this is dumb, but hear me out:

Y’know the song “For the Dancing and the Dreaming” from How to Train Your Dragon 2? Well, imagine that song but with Philza or Techno and a reader s/o! Like, they’ve been apart for way too long because of various circumstances, but when they finally see each other it’s just love at first sight all over again.

I was singing that song a lot at work today, and thought this idea might be a cute and wholesome break from the wonderfully tearjerking angst that was that last Parental Dream post. I think that anon woke up and chose violence that morning, not that I’m complainin.

I can’t remember which anon request it was that chose violence but I remember heavily agreeing with you. This request was so fing perfect to do with Techno. I hope you enjoy it.

Dancing and Dreaming

In Game

Pairings: Techno x F! Reader

Warnings: None :)

A/N: There is a poem in this that’s not mine. It’s by Anna Shaw and I found it randomly on the web. So I take no credit for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With never a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you would marry me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        (Y/N) remembered standing on the edge of the Arctic Empire’s border, watching Techno’s ship sail off a year back. Word came that his brothers needed his aid in their own nation. She remembered begging to let him come with him, she was the best swordswoman in the land.

        Who do you think taught her?

        Yet, Techno didn’t want someone to hurt her and made a promise to her.

        “I’ll take these nerds, alright? I’ll come back to you though, no matter what, and…I’ll marry you.”

        The voices went wild in his head for the first time in forever. Running the kingdom kept them sated but with him soon to be leaving, he supposed it riled them up. They were screaming praises and hatred at the same time but he didn’t care. This was what he wanted.

        “I…” (Y/N) was speechless for a few moments and Techno gave a cheeky grin, that helped her break out of it as she laughed. “Ok. But you have to come back.”

        “No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey if you promise me your heart and love me for eternity.” He kissed her forehead.

        From there, he boarded the ship and she didn’t see him for a year. She got no word from him or from his brothers, which gave her hope as well that he was ok. Of course, he would be, he was Technoblade.

        She was running the daily duties as Techno’s stand-in when one of the servants of the castle, bowing to her deeply.

        “Ma’am, we’ve spotted a regal ship coming into harbor.”

        “Get the guards ready then, we can’t take chances on this land, I have no patience for royalty, let’s go.”

        There had been a few battles in Techno’s absence, one’s (Y/N) commanded on his behalf that had earned her a few battle scars but nothing that caused her to lose a precious life. She had learned from the best of men. Putting her sword in its sheath and a bow and axe on her back, she set herself off to the harbor.

        As she got to the harbor, she saw a flag she had never seen flickering on the top of the mainmast. It was a half-circle of black on one edge with a line of yellow lining it as three stripes, one blue, white, and red, came off the yellow lining and three Xs in the middle. Two of the X’s were in the white strip as the third was in the half-circle of black.

        She stood on guard still as the ship slowed as it made it to their docks. Many knew nations tried to challenge the half power of their empire.

        Going onto the docks, she stood tall a safe distance from the ship.

        “Hail, who are you!” She called to the ship.

        A face leaned over the front and she stiffened at the grinning young face she remembered.

        “(Y/N)!” Tommy grinned. “Long time no see.”

        “What the fuck are you doing on that ship?!” She scolded, going over.

        “It’s mine!” (Y/N) scoffed at his words.

        “I think you’ll find, it’s mine.” Wilbur came behind the young boy, giving a smile to the woman. “It’s a pleasure (Y/N). Mind telling your men down?”

        “I mean, only if you tell me where Techno is.”

        Then she screamed as she was lifted off the ground.

        “You’ve gotten sloppy perceiving around you.” Techno chuckled as the boys on the ship laughed.

        She couldn’t be angry. She merely grinned as he put her down and hugged him tightly.

        “You’re ok.” She whispered.

        “I promised you I would be. I just had to take down a government.” He shrugged as he hugged her back.

        “My dearest one, your mighty words astound me but I've no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me.”

        He hid his face in the top of her hair as he grinned to himself. He had truly missed her.

        That night, a grand ball was held in honor of Techno’s return, his victory with his brothers, and for the new alliance with the nation of L’Manberg as (Y/N) found out. (Y/N) laughed as Wilbur stole the first dance with her from Techno, having missed his brothers’ antics since the last time they had met.

        The two men kept teasing Techno by stealing the woman away until Techno practically picked her up and stole her away to the dance floor.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        “Was someone jealous?” (Y/N) teased as she curtsied to him and he bowed.

        Together they danced in sync with ease. If there was no music, it would still be a beautiful dance to behold. They had done this number before, their own formal dance they always easily moved into.

        “I would like to see my wife to be after a year.” Techno gave a joking eye roll.

        “I’ll always be here for you, Techno. Even if we weren’t going to be married.” She blushed lightly, remembering his promise.

        At the end of their dance, Techno took her hand as usual but instead moved into a position to kneel.

        “This smooth son of a…” (Y/N) thought to herself with a grin.

        Techno went into his pocket, holding out a golden ring up to her. “Allow me to make it official to you after keeping you waiting for a year.” He cleared his throat before speaking clearly.

        “If I have to hold hell ransom,

        In turn for your wayward soul,

        I will.

        And if I must, fight through the depths of Tartarus

        To save what’s left of you

        To save the pieces life didn’t get to destroy,

        Then consider yourself saved

        For there is not a battle I won’t win,

        If saving you is what I am fighting for.

        So, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        “I mean you win every battle anyways.” She whispered so only he would hear and he gave her a deadpanned face before she spoke a bit louder. “I care not of those things, as long as I have you Techno and your hand. I will gladly marry you for just that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To love and kiss to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows

And delights

I'll keep your laugh inside me

I'll swim and sail a savage seas

With never a fear of drowning

I'd gladly ride the waves so white

And you will marry me!

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        People clapped as she giggled hearing the hollers of his brothers as he rolled his eyes before smiling as he put the ring on her finger. He gave a sweet kiss to her forehead, neither much for sharing a lover’s kiss in public. The night’s events took on new energy around them but the two simply enjoyed the presence of the other as they glided across the floor.

        Techno regaled her with what happened in L’Manberg, throwing in a few jokes to hear her sweet laugh he had missed through the battles he and his brothers had fought. They had all been such brutal battles, even the ones they had to fight with their words. Yet, each one he fought harder than the rest because he knew, across the savage seas, he’d go home to the most perfect woman and get to marry her.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade x reader

[semischarmed]

Mine

Many coaches have come and taught the many iterations of our university team. Over the years, these coaches, like players, come and go. Good ones are hard to come by. Great ones are once in a lifetime. That was our Coach James.

He had a fatherly quality to him. There was a warmth in his training, a brightness when he would teach us. When we succeeded, he helped bring us up further and when we failed he softened the blow with his wisdom. Coach was great like that. Strictly professional, of course, but with a layer of genuine friendliness and a desire to watch us all succeed. He really was the perfect coach and we were blessed to have him. Still, in my lust, in my pure selfishness, I knew I had to have him- all of him to me and me alone. One long summer day, I ask for some one-on-one training. Never one to turn down a teaching opportunity, he complies. Like I said, he was a great coach.

I decide this would be the day. I run, but not too well. I throw, but haphazardly. That’s all it took for him to lean in. That’s all it took to get him close. Of course, he came with pure intentions- I did not. 

When he is right above me, when I feel the vibration in the air from his chest, when I feel his raw power and vitality. That is when I strike. I fuck up my throwing position a little more, and he guides it proper. Fuck yeah. Jesus, I could stay like this forever. I feel the resonance of his deep voice within my very soul. Beckoning to me. “Become me. You want this. You deserve this,” it taunts. He was still coaching me, sure, but my mind is preoccupied with dark intent. 

These gentle breaths as he speaks- these steady hands guiding mine to a better position. These would be my truths now. A most intimate of trainings. Coach James would be training me-sure- he would be training me to use that bod. I stare at him with longing. He would never look at me that way. God, I wanted him so bad. We glisten with the sweat of the midday sun. I could melt just like this. And in fact, I do.

In that grasp, in that teaching moment, I decide to teach coach a couple tricks myself. I look up at his face. Earnest. Strong. Patient. I watch his lips- they’re still moving- he’s still guiding me. Good. He hasn’t noticed my body begin liquifying. He continues on, unfazed. Unconcerned. He always did have that humble strength about him. 

I am drawn to those plump lips, to his perfect smile and the void behind them, to the force of his breath over me, and to the very vibration that created them. I am drawn to that body which I would make mine. I wrap his thick arms around me. Those goddamn arms. They pulse and tense in surprise. He finally catches on. “- Hey. What are you doing? What.. What is this?” I pay no mind. A breeze picks up and his scent fills me. I wrap myself in it. Old spice deodorant layered over the pungent, musk of a man. My man. My scent, soon enough. The air was ripe in pheromones. Testosterone. James. I inhale deeply, trying to catch as much of him as I could. His skin is nice, too. It’s a bit damp, a bit hot from the heat, but nice. I feel them stretch taught, struggling to contain the mass of muscle beneath. I draw his shocked embrace even closer, uncomfortably close. I feel him between concern over my melting form and a need to push me away. Works for me. I continue to liquify further. Faster. You will be mine, Coach.

The world stops for a moment- at least for me. Maybe adrenaline, maybe my imagination. I commit this scene to memory, the scene where I become something greater. The scene where the real Coach James is born.

I shoot up his nose and flood his mouth. His body is forced to gorge itself with my mass. With every breath he attempts to draw, he pulls the liquid me instead. He retches, attempting to vomit me out, but I just draw myself further in. Flooding and flooding, I saturate coach with myself. When all but the last of me is a dribbling of slime upon his cheek, I disperse inside him. I drill into his every crevice, swim through his bloodstream, bond with his ever piece. I settle deeper and deeper inside my coach. Until his body no longer recognizes my presence as foreign. Until I am coach. I incubate into him, my pieces dormant. 

Coach James awakes in the grass to the odd sight of a star-filled sky and a cold night breeze. “What the fuck...” he ponders, rubbing his head in confusion. He aches all over, yet he isn’t hungry. He digs into his memory, attempting to piece together the past few hours. I just spent them digesting this afternoon so he would have no success. 

Unclear on the past events, yet unfazed, he walks back to his car and heads home.

———

That first night was magical-for me. As for coach, I’m not quite sure. I am ever present in his dreams. Pleasure, I think, is how I’d describe what being inside James was like. In his dreams, in his deepest thoughts, I lay there to witness them. These were thoughts, these were ideas, these were emotions that only I would be sole witness to, along coach. Ecstasy. This was a piece of him we would share alone. I was like a part of him, and only I would know him fully to this extent. 

In the next few days after the events of that afternoon, Coach appeared a little more vain, a little more irritable. To my teammates he just seemed off. They catch glimpses of him checking himself out. They hear the barely audible moans from his office as he delicately feels his every part. 

“What the fuck was up with coach” They say. Little did they know the real question to ask was ‘what was up’ IN their coach. Little did they know it was the influence of their missing teammate, ingraining himself deeper and deeper into his beloved James.

Despite the changes, my coach resists me. The further I try to bond, the more his body rejects me. It is a 3 day affair. A push and pull. With every push, I gain momentary connection to that bod, only to have that fulfillment ripped from my now non-existent hands. He was a coach, after all. I should have known it would be a battle of wills. Still, there was someone I had that coach didn’t have-yet. My mind. I had a cleverness match-made for that hot bod. A cleverness he deserved. A cleverness that I would utilize to the fullest to make that match a reality. Coach was a happy, content man. I was not. He needed my ambition, my cleverness, my lust. That body deserved better.

I let up the assault on his mind. He feels himself winning, backing my parts into a corner. It’s here where I apologize profusely inside him. He accepts because, James was the kind of guy to pick someone up when they’re down. He accepts my apology foolishly as we decide upon the best way I may leave him. A chance. We decide to do so in the privacy of his home- for my sake, of course. Little did he know, I felt his resistance weakest there. He readies himself for my exit, relaxing so I may flow out of him. I ready myself for one final push. It was in that moment that I surround coach with my psyche, encapsulate his very soul.

 Coach James wakes up making an odd face his body has never made. It was a lustful, sinful grin. It was my grin. I start chuckling. My voice is deep, booming. We moan together as my dormant parts stir. We moan as it starts convulsing. The shaking was harsh. I puppet this body still and eager to accept more of me. It takes some resistance but it finally yields. Nothing good comes easy, after all. I stick my parts take their rightful places. Those bulging, slick arms? Mine. Powerful, vascular legs? Also mine. That thick, veiny cock? Fucking. Mine. I feel them inside me- I alight as his energy becomes mine. We tickle. We feel great. At long last, this body was mine. 

No. Further. I want everything he ever is, ever was. James was gonna give me that. I wanted permanence. No one would ever tear us apart. I decide on his soul. I decide on becoming that as well. I string his soul up, prisoner in its own body, unable to do much of anything until transformed by the poison of my very being. In the meantime, I pleasure my new self to grant him a taste of what we could have, what we could be, once he yielded. I use those thick python arms as my own. I gingerly trace my a newly muscular inner thigh. I shiver in delight. Fuck. We were sensitive. Who knew?

I stare at myself in the mirror. Oh god, oh god this was real, he was truly mine. “Here’s how to use this bod correctly” I mock in that gentle, instructive tone he had. I rush up to the mirror and start making out with myself. It’s cold. It warms up as I continue to lap at it with my tongue, as I continue to smear with these new plump lips of mine. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff, coach” I moan as him. The room is humid, dripping with pheromone, hot from the heat I am emanating in wearing my beloved coach. I touch my new dick for the first time, feeling his soul rile up. I feel his teaching sensibilities corrupt with my desire. As any good coach knows, never let them have a chance to fight back. Before he has a chance to react to my newfound control or my actions, I pump quickly, determinedly. Yeah. Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Coach’s body was fucking hot. This was a fucking dream- Oh My god. “Oh. Oh. oh” Our moans ring like music to my new ears. And in that final resonance, I release with only one thought: “I’m Coach James”. His hand shakes in resistance. This was it. I force the hand still. Command it. It was my hand after-all. I scoop our cum in my hand. I give my hot new reflection a playful wink. “Bottoms up” I say to us both. Sweet Nectar. My Nectar. With every taste and of his own milk, he perverts own senses, dilutes his very self. He has obviously never tasted himself to this capacity- because I finally feel his soul reflexively bond to mine. He tries to pull back. Like I’d let him. I greedily keep us tethered together. Then, he relents. There’s my James. 

When he finally yields I feel his memories, his feelings, hopes open up. I take them all. Distort them. I take all of him into me, meld them with myself until we were but one soul. They were me, now. My memories, sure. My senses. My feelings- fuck yeah, but inundated, saturated with my lust. Hopes- not a fucking chance. My hopes and dreams for this body are far greater. Coach James was greater that that. I was greater than that. I am the James the world deserves. 

I am left panting by the end of it. Ecstasy reverberates. It’s all me in here, baby. My coach- I was reborn. Tears stream down my cheeks. “Call me James” I say with newfound truth and intent. That name came naturally to me. I was fully him, after all.

———

‘New James’ is fucking kinky. Dirty. Narcissistic. As much as I love bossing around the kids, I love playing with myself even more. I got some great parts. Look at this fucking bicep. Teaching? Fuck that. Fuck the team. New James is ripe with ambition and power. “James Harrison got better fucking things to do that teach some stupid fucking kids,” I spit in the mirror as caress myself. Yeah. This bod’s a fucking power trip. So much more New James can do with his time. 

“New” might be a bit of a misnomer. I am James, in body mind and soul. I am James, in past-present and future. All he ever was? All he ever will be? Me. I am James, forever. And I aint no fucking coach.

-End-

Just a quick one.

#male possession

[dreamyjoons]

Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt - pjm

⇢ another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

Genre/warnings: smut, 18+! ‘enemies’-to-lovers, swearing, semi-public smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, honestly at this point a sweat kink, multiple orgasms, light choking, some spitting, unprotected sex, creampie.

Words: 14.2k lol

A/N: well hello! I’m back baby, and to celebrate i had to exorcise some Jimin demons. Did i talk about him sweating a lot? Yes. Did i use my favourite pic of him for the header? Also yes. Don’t @ me, i already know. I hope you enjoy!!!

"You're so wrong about this, it's actually kind of embarrassing."

"No you're wrong, only an idiot would think the way you do."

"Guys, no one - and I really mean this - no one cares about what kind of cups you need for beer pong. You've been arguing this for like twenty minutes now." Hoseok huffs, sitting back into the couch.

"Eighteen minutes." Namjoon sighs, tipping back his cup and gulping down its contents.

"But solo cups are far superior-"

"Jimin, they aren't!" You snap, dragging your glare away from his rolling eyes, deciding you never wanna look at him ever again.

"Please stop." Jungkook sighs, slipping off the chair beside Hoseok. His eyes flick between you before scanning the rest of the people in the room, slowly moving to the thump of the music. "Gonna find Yoongi and Tae." He mumbles before disappearing through the mass of bodies.

You'd been at the house party for less than three minutes before you and Jimin found a reason to have an argument. At first, it was how late you were - even though you found out he only got there five minutes before you. Then when you commented on the music choices to Yoongi, he found a way to disagree - despite you both knowing he loved the artist. On and on it went. Now here you were; Namjoon and Hoseok on the couch watching you both with bored expressions, Jin tuned out and typing rapidly on his phone beside them. Jimin stood to your left, and you made sure to keep him totally out of your sight.

But it was getting harder to hear him, thankfully. And he was losing steam. The house was crowded and loud, lively dancers everywhere and the smell of alcohol rich in the air. It was already way too hot out, but being stuffed inside at this party was causing everyone to sweat. You could see condensation forming on the walls.

The house was huge and expensively decorated, belonging to some producer friend of Namjoon. Marbled floors met white walls, a rug carpet covering the floor that made you wince when you thought about the price. It was sprawling and full of a ridiculous number rooms. Yet still, people had to squeeze between the spaces, excuses and polite taps lost in the fury of heat and confinement.

You held your can to your forehead to cool yourself down but it had grown warm waiting for you and Jimin to finish your current spout. You grimace but take a sip anyway - at least if you get a buzz you can ignore him for a little. You felt a pit of guilt at making Jungkook leave. But you were riled up, and you couldn't back down. Not to Jimin.

You saw Jimin tip his head back to drink out of the corner of your eye, but you daren't look at him. He was as insufferable as he was hot as hell, and not just in temperature.

However, you had managed to take a better look at him earlier in the night. His beige silk shirt was already sticking to his skin, tucked into tight jeans blacker than you had ever seen. Who wears silk to a house party? The necklace that he always wore sat just below his collarbones, and you're reminded of all the times you've wanted to throttle him with that damn chain. He'd been pushing his dark hair back all night - you could tell by how it fell about his face, silky strands falling into his eyes. Was he wearing some kind of lipgloss too? You grumble into your drink. He was too pretty for his own good.

At first the sparring was fun. There was an attraction there, on your part at least. It was spicy, something hot and fast, a way to see how compatible you were. Maybe you had some feelings for him. Possibly, potentially.

But over time it devolved. It felt like he'd say things just to get a rise out of you, to draw your attention into a battle with him. And now here you were, bitterly avoiding the man's existence.

"God, why is it so hot here?" Jin gasps, blotting his face with his sleeve.

"Probably haven't got the air con on." Jimin shrugs, taking a swig from his glass.

"It's on-" You start, eyes flicking to where you thought you could see a vent in the ceiling. It was open, so you assumed it would be on - it had to be.

"I highly doubt that."

Jimin gives you the look he always does - where he tilts his head back and stares into your soul. His plump lips part, tongue pressed behind his teeth, goading you into his trap. He gets his way every time.

"Why would they not have it on? It's burning hot even without a house full of people."

"Then it's clearly a crappy unit." He shrugs, but his words are quick and his eyes are still intensely focused on you.

"Jimin have you seen the rest of this house? Don't be dumb-"

"Shut up!"

You and Jimin spin to your friends who had all shouted in unison. The ones who could still stand to be around you both arguing, anyway. Several of the dancers that were nearby stopped to look at the exclamation but slowly drifted back into the music - albeit before taking a step further away from your group.

"Enough. I'm gonna put an end to this once and for all." Namjoon gets to his feet and strides away with purpose, standing a head above nearly everyone in the crowd.

You shiftily look at Jimin before silently waiting for Namjoon to return, confusion thick in your brain. You awkwardly chewed on your lip as the seconds ticked by, before finally he stalks back, his bag under his arm.

He throws himself back into his seat, flips open the top of his bag and rifles through.

Finally he pulls out a heap of bright yellow material, and with a small noise, he dumps his bag beside him before bolting up. He unravels the material and holds it up to you, grin growing on his face.

It takes you a few seconds to focus on what he is holding out to you and Jimin - but when you realise, you gasp.

"'Our get along shirt'? Namjoon you've gotta be joking." you splutter, scanning the shirt.

It was a sickly yellow, 'our get along shirt' printed on it in what appeared to be black glitter. It could probably fit both you and Jimin in it, maybe Yoongi could slip in too. It looked somewhat roomy, but that was not the point.

"What?" Jimin asks, lips parted as he stares into the glitter.

"You're both gonna wear it and get over whatever bullshit is going on here." Namjoon says so casually, as if he was asking the time or giving directions. But you saw the seriousness in the minute movements of his face. The clench on his jaw, the hardiness of his eyes.

"We're adults Namjoon, you can't expect us to wear that." Jimin's face had gone into a full blush, but his frown was deep as he stared at Namjoon.

"You are both gonna wear it."

"No-" You shout, but Namjoon pointedly huffs at you, and you take the hint.

"Put the shirt on. By the end of the night, either one of you will have killed the other or you have this sorted out. Because if not, you'll end up pushing us all away. For good." Namjoon finishes with a sigh, the depth of his gaze so severe it confirms that he isn’t playing with you.

You look behind him at Jin and Hoseok, and the direction in which Jungkook had walked away. Jin and Hoseok looked deadly serious, no hint of a smile or a cackle of laughter like you'd expect.

He had a point. You knew it. But it was so hard - Jimin couldn't let things lie, and you couldn't back away from a fight when it was him you were fighting. But to see others dropping out from around you...

"Hand over the shirt."

You spin to stare at Jimin. His face was tight, jaw set and eyebrows drawn. It had dawned on him too, just how far this had gone. But he obviously didn't like the idea of it, and neither did you.

"Fine but if I do kill him I’m taking you all down with me as accessories." You sigh, reaching forward and taking the shirt from Namjoon.

“How long have you had this, Joon?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Long enough.”

You turn it in your hands and with a deep breath, you pull the shirt over your head, sticking your arm through the sleeve and head through the collar. Your left arm hangs loosely in the shirt, and you begin to fret about what you should do with it. Maybe you should just stick it in your pocket? You don't wanna brush anything-

Before you could follow that train of thought, Jimin tugs you and the shirt towards him. You follow, gulping thickly. He casts one last look at Namjoon before putting his head under the bottom of the shirt. within seconds his head is through the collar, his shoulder bumping yours as he tries to get comfortable.

The air is thick around you, the extra warmth of him being so close to you making the heat rise on your face. You were strongly aware of every microscopic move he makes, your senses keenly aware of his proximity. He lets out a harsh sigh, and you feel the breath ripple over the collar and down the shirt. A pout settles on his lips, glossy and wholly enticing - and entirely too close.

His face was inches from yours, shoulders stuck rigidly together as you subtly wrestle for space. The shirt was obviously made for kids, and much smaller than you had originally anticipated. Two kids would be able to almost comfortably stand side by side. You and Jimin had barely enough excess shirt, but the collar was far too small. His hand grazes mercilessly across your thigh, the hardness of his rings pressing into the material of your jeans.

You hear a click of a camera, and your attention snaps up to see Hoseok taking a photo of you both on his phone. With both you and Jimin glaring at him, he snaps another and giggles.

"One for Jungkook." He grins, before flipping his phone to you.

Instinctively you step forward to look, but the lack of space drags Jimin along with you. He crashes into your back, a steadying hand reaching out for your hip, a strangled grunt by your ear. You choke on your breath, and weakly tug at the collar as if it was the cause of your shock.

His hand is warm, the heat pulsating from his palm across your hip. If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now. You shuffle back a little, easing the tension in the shirt that tugged tightly against you. Jimin brings up a hand and anxiously pushes his hair back from his face, his jaw set so sharply you could cut your finger on it.

"Well, there's bound to be a few teething problems but I'm sure you'll both work it out." Namjoon smiles, eyes bright and full of mischief. "Come on boys, let's give them some space."

You give Namjoon the fiercest glare you could muster before he walks away, but all he does is chuckle at you. Hoseok waves brightly whilst Jin merely winks - until soon all that remained was you and Jimin, hot, flustered and already tired of it all.

"Okay, now that they're gone-" Jimin mutters, twisting in the shirt so that his back was against you. You shuffle back as not to touch him, your mind a hazy hot mess.

Your hand dances threateningly close to his ass so you snatch it up to your chest, staring at the ceiling and holding back an agonised groan.

He brings his hands up and after a few seconds you hear a loud rip.

You snap your head to him to see that he'd ripped the collar almost to the end of the shoulder, giving you more space. You let out a breath and you both adapted to the space, but his shoulder was still brushing you. At least his face was at a less dangerous distance from yours now.

"Do... you wanna sit?" He asks quietly, A faint pinky blush crossing his cheeks. You forced your eyes away, determined not to be distracted.

"Jimin, Namjoon's gonna flip about the shirt."

"No he won't-"

"Yes, he will-"

"Ah, can we just sit?."

You huff, weighing his words before silently nodding, moving forward slowly to give him time to get his brain in gear. He stepped behind you and you shuffled around so that you wouldn't be sat under him.

"Okay sit." You order, and to your surprise he followed your words. You both crash back into the couch, his arms pressing back against you, his legs spread and pressed against yours.

You sit, the silence stretching. You finally get the smell of his cologne, the silk of his shirt sleeve brushing against your arm. It was filling your senses, and though it had only been seconds, this was stretching for an eternity.

And there were all those emotions you felt towards him, rushing to the surface, bubbling beneath your skin.

"Okay this is dumb, why are we doing this?" You grumble, slamming your head back against the cushions, desperate to be away from his heady scent.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, so you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze.

"Because we don't want to lose our friends." His voice is low, the cogs turning in his head.

"Yes I know that, but why do we have to 'sort our problems' from inside the same damn t-shirt?" You snap.

"I... don't know. But I'm not gonna lose friends. Them or you - so get used to being stuck in this shirt with me."He purses his lips in thought, but you’re struck by his words.

"Well it's you who's stuck in here with me." You snark, unable to stop yourself before you say it.

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, and you can’t help but smile. You finally meet his eyes, and like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, he snaps his eyes away.

“So we have to like… work on our problems?”

“Apparently.” He murmurs, throwing himself back into the seat.  

The temperature feels ten times hotter than when you weren’t sharing clothing. Your hair sticks to your skin and you shift uncomfortably. Everywhere you touched him felt like it was on fire, every sensor in your body and edge and firing. You force yourself to breathe, in and out. Park Jimin was not going to get the better of you.

But he seemed affected too.

His swallows are thick, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You could see his ringed finger tapping in his leg whilst his other hand was pushing back his hair a little more aggressively than usual.

“So uh…” He starts, but tapers off when you look at him.

“Yeah?”

The seconds tick on, the gap between you non-existent. You avert your eyes and try to focus on the crowd that swirls around you.

You couldn’t help but notice the fact that things were going well. No issues were being resolved per se, but you hadn’t fought properly for a few minutes. And for you both, that was progress. Even if every word that comes to your mind flights away, leaving the silence to stretch.

“Maybe-”

“How about-”

You both blurt words at the same time, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you squarely avoid looking at each other. The music seems louder, making it harder to think about anything that wasn’t directly in your senses. Essentially you were stuck in a Jimin lockdown.

“You go.”

“Oh, I was just going to say I’m gonna need a drink or two for this.” you confess, heat burning across your face.

“That’s… Not a bad idea actually. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Jimin rushes, a little too enthusiastically. It seems like he’s a little on edge too.

Without thinking he tries to stand up, causing you to get ruffled inside the shirt as he staggers to his feet. You’re ripped through the collar of the shirt, your face getting knocked into his hip. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat as he’s slingshotted back into the chair beside you. Your head reemerges through the hole, leaving your hair vigorously disheveled.

“I-, I’m sorry!” He grits, a reddish blush bursting across his cheeks.

You bring up your hand inside the shirt to touch it to your face whilst the other tries to right whatever mess your hair had become.

“It’s fine, just, we gotta move as one.” You mumble, flicking your gaze at him.

“Agh, this isn’t gonna be easy.” He sighs, shuffling to the edge of the chair.

You take a deep breath and follow his lead. You put a tentative hand on the couch to shuffle yourself to the edge, but jimin had the same idea. He puts his hands on top of yours, but instantly snatches it back. He mumbles to himself before turning and giving you a nod. With a steadying breath you both move, almost effortlessly getting off the couch together. It takes you by surprise at how straightforward that was, until the clatter of a noise reaches your ears over the din of the music.

Following the rattle of the noise you look down, only to watch your phone skittering across the floor.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur, watching it stop out of reach. “Jimin, my phone!”

He follows your gaze to where it lays on the floor, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by dancers. Your heart flutters as people step around it, totally unaware.

“Go, go!” He mutters, placing the palm of his hand at the bottom of your back, steering you towards it.

You flush as you’re pushed through, stopping just above it. You’re both jostled by the people around you as you stand guard above your phone. People were dancing dangerously close to it,and all it would take is one drunken fool to stamp on it or you for this to end in disaster.

“Okay let’s drop, carefully this time!” you order, but Jimin scoffs at you.

“I’m trying to be careful!”

“Just don't thrash me about again, that would be nice-”

“I’m not doing it on purpose! I can if you want me to-”

“Oh my god, stop, just bend over and help me!”

“That sounds dirt-”

He starts, but before you let him manifest that in your mind you start to crouch, the force pulling him down to bump his chest into your back. The heat of him crashing into you is instant, an insatiable warmth that spreads in contact. He puts a stabilising hand on your hips as his breath rolls across the back of your neck. A shiver trickles down your body despite trying to hold it back.

“What did you do that for?” He grunts, his mouth closer to your ear as he tries to rebalance himself.

“Y- you’re taking too long trying to argue!”

He presses himself off your back and shuffles down beside you. You finally get crouched on the floor, tentative hands placed on the sticky surface to stop you from toppling over. Jimin crouches next to you, his body facing yours with his leg behind you, tight against your back. It was hard to stay focused with him pressed against you like that, but you know he was just trying to stay stable. So why were you blushing so hard?

Carefully you reach out, your fingers just brushing the edge of the phone. You’re just able to get your fingers over the edge when you’re slammed from the side. Your phone is knocked out of your reach once more as you’re thrown onto Jimin, both of you landing in a tangled heap.

You let out a yelp as you’re falling, the impact to the side of you bristling with shock. His back hits the floor and you land awkwardly, right on top of him.

“Watch what you’re doing, you moron!” Jimin snaps after your head slaps onto his shoulder.

Your heart slams erratically against your chest, his words stinging. You’d come to blows many more times than you can imagine, but he’d never spoken to you in that way, not ever.

“God, I’m sorry.” you murmur, pressing yourself up off his chest, your face practically aflame.

“What? Oh, no no, not you! Whichever idiot smacked into you. Are you alright?“ He asks, his fingers gently gripping your chin and turning you gently in his hands.

Your eyes are wide as he stares at you, your fingers twitching on the silk covering his chest. Once he’s satisfied that you’re okay, he softly releases you. You bring your gaze back to his, beads of sweat rolling down your face.

Jimin looks down to his hand and back up to you after realising what he had just done, before he clenches his fist closed and puts it down to his side. His forehead is creased, his face burning bright.

“We should… ah, should get your phone.” His voice is low, barely audible above the music. But you hear him all the same, stealing your hand back from his chest.

You swallow thickly, stabilizing yourself as you crouched back on your own two feet. Your phone isn’t too far out of reach, but just beyond the touch of your fingertips. You strain, tugging Jimin along behind you. His throat is pulled against your shoulder, but it was no good, you still needed the stretch.

“Hold on.” You mumble, slipping your head out from underneath the collar.

You keep your arm inside the shirt sleeve for plausible deniability - you’d never be able to lie to Namjoon if he asks if you stayed in. But you pull your head out from the bottom of the shirt and reach out, gripping your phone and snatching it up. You shove it in your deepest pocket of your jeans and pat it, relieved.

You crawl back to Jimin and try to climb back into the shirt. He throws the bottom over your head and you push it through - only to slam your head into his arm.

“Ah, sorry!” You yelp, trying to push yourself past him.

He tries to guide your head back up through the collar but manages to get his rings caught in your hair. You yelp at the tug, your hands flying up to untangle him.

“Sorry, sorry!” He shouts, bringing his other hands up to slide his rings off altogether.

Once they’re off his fingers it’s easier to free your hair. With the rings tucked safely in his pocket and with gentle easing, Jimin moves your head up to the collar of the shirt. You rapidly brush your hair out of your face and look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s flustered, roughly pushing the hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead back. His lips are parted and his eyes are fixed away from you.

Briefly, the thought of just running away from him crossed your mind. There’d be no more issues if you never saw his face again. No more embarrassment! Of course it was a silly idea, but it would be better than getting the opportunity to make yourself look like an idiot again.

You huff out a breath, blotting your damp forehead with the back of your hand. Your brush with the floor had left your clothes feeling sticky, and your brush against Jimin had set everything else on fire. You needed some fresh ai-

“It’s too hot for this, I need some air.” Jimin shifts in his spot, gesturing to the backdoor that was through the kitchen and blocked by a thick group of party goers. You follow the direction he points and nod enthusiastically.

“I wanna grab some water too.” You murmur. Ignoring his presence.

The people that stood between the cloying heat that you and Jimin were trapped in and the cooler climate outside were dense. You’d have to fight through, but the reward of fresher air to clear your head of Jimin was too tantalising.

With a look at Jimin, he motions with his hand for you to proceed. You roll your eyes at the gesture but you take a cautious step forward, slow and deliberate.

You started pushing your way through, bodies warm and fluid as you tried to champion the way. Jimin got ganged much closer to you, practically pressing into your back as you moved. You focus on finding a path ahead, ignoring the beads of sweat that form in your hairline.

Something had changed between you. This is the closest you had been together, the most you had touched, the longest you had been alone. And you wanted to hate it. You certainly hated how messy he must think you are. But you didn’t. A trickle of something different slides down your body, all your attention focused on his hand on you.

The music changes to something even louder and riles the crowd up. With a swell of movements in the dancers you’re sent flying, knocked by some erratic dancer’s elbow. With the force of the shirt Jimin is dragged with you, crashing into your back and pinballing you against another person.

Subconsciously you turn back to him - but as soon as you’re pressed together, you realise how big a mistake that was.

Stomach to stomach, his face is barely an inch or two from yours. His fingers wrap around your wrist, chest rising and falling as you stare at him.

The sweat that had rolled down his face had reached his throat, dropping down the column and hovering at his apple. The minutest of smirks pulls at his lips, and you realise you’ve been caught.  

He swallows, purposely. The bead rolls the rest of the way down his throat, dropping below his necklace before disappearing down the neckline of his shirt. The silk was clinging to his skin in the heat, and it took every ounce of dignity you had not to look down. You could see in your periphery, and that was more than enough. The man was hot, in every sense.

Your eyes flick back up, a different kind of heat burning up your face. You anxiously lick your lips, eyes finally meeting his. He has an eyebrow propped, a smugness radiating that let your blood boil. But his gaze drops to your mouth, watching your tongue gloss across your lip before looking back up. You can feel his breath hit your chest as his cheeks flushed more than they ever had. Now you were the one to have an audience.

Maybe this was it - the answer. You just needed a moment for everything to click, you could reach an understanding! It had nothing to do with how his stare left you feeling like you could burst in every way possible. Or that his pupils seemed to be blown wide, big enough for you to swim in. His fingers were hot against your wrist, and it felt almost as if his pinky was tracing the tiniest circles into your skin-

“I need the bathroom.”

The words are blurted loudly in your face, and for a moment you forget what reality is.

“I- what?”

“Bathroom. Gotta go. Bathroom stuff.” Jimin splutters.

Before you can respond - not that you knew how to -  he turns from you. His hand still holds your wrist as he pulls you through the crowd, uncaring as to who he pushes aside. All you can do is stare at the back of his hair and be lead.

“Jimin what the hell?!” You yell, ignoring the glares of the nosy partiers.

Your voice is lost, muffled by loud music and Jimin's deaf focus. You finally break free from the throng of people but your journey doesn't end. You're being whipped past busy rooms until you hit the staircase. The odd person watches you in fascination, some even snickering at what was written so plainly in glitter on the shirt. you felt your face burn, and make a silent note to fight Namjoon at the soonest opportunity.

He begins scurrying up the staircase, and with your wrist still firmly in his iron grip, you're soon flying up behind him. He casts a shifty look behind him to check you were still attached, his face flushed but his eyes focused. You have to remember to regulate your breathing.

"God, careful!" You snap, almost stumbling on the top step.

He doesn't acknowledge that he hears you, but then he slows for a second before darting down the winding corridor. He rushes into one of the rooms, a sprawling guest bedroom, before finally letting your wrist drop from his grip. It was almost bigger than your entire place, with an ensuite and even a door leading out to a balcony.

You close the door behind you before Jimin drags you towards the ensuite. Once he's at the open door he pulls his arms through the sleeve and slips out from the shirt. You know you're in the privacy of a bedroom but you suddenly get nervous, eyes turning to the bedroom door.

"We're gonna get in trouble." You murmur. Namjoon is a mind reader, you’d stake your life on it - he'll know you're separated and find you.

"You gotta relax. We're not gonna be spotted through floors and walls. Unless you wanna come in here with me?" He asks, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. Your stomach flutters, but it is a relief to have a flash of the jimin who pushes your buttons back.

"I -wha- no! Just hurry up, god." You splutter, turning your back to him.

"I won't be long."

With that he saunters back, his cheeks blown out as he sighs, and finally closes the door for some sweet separation. You step back and move to the balcony - the door was unlocked so you push it open and finally breathe.

The air is still warm, but instant relief from being cooped up inside with Jimin washes over you. You close your eyes and soak up the moment of peace, the shirt hanging off your solitary frame.

Your brain was barely processing the situation you were both in. It was enough being stuck in the same item of clothing as someone, but with Jimin? It was hard.

But then again, it was also easy. It was too easy to get wrapped up in him, to be so close, to let yourself be taken with him. It was a place you had hoped to be before, and somewhere you couldn’t go.

You and Jimin were tumultuous. You weren’t sure why it had to be that way. It’s not like either of you were toxic or nasty people - so why did you have to make a stand on everything? Why does every time you stand off with him make the hairs on your neck stand up, make your heart beat so fast in your chest you swear he could hear it?

Maybe it was because you did, after all this time, like him.  

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an erratic knocking at the door. You dart your eyes to it as if you could see through the solid wood, your heart in your throat.

"Y/N? Jimin? You there?" Namjoon calls through the door, and you swear under your breath.

"One second!" You cry, scrambling back from the door and scurry to the ensuite.

"Jimin! Open up!" You whisper at him, your voice a hurried rasp.

"What?"

"I'm coming in!" You wait a few seconds just in case, and then finally throw the door open.

"Y?N!" Jimin yells, scrambling back against the basin.

He was standing with his silk shirt in his hands, His lips parted in shock as he stares at you. His chest was heaving, the faintest glimmer of abs visible behind the thin fabric. Your face was burning almost as much as his, your jaw dropping. His hair was tousled, strands covering his wide eyes as he stared at you.

"Wh... Why are you topless?" Your breath is barely above a whisper as you fight to keep your eyes on his face.

"It's so hot!”

“I’m hot! Do you see me taking my clothes off?” You rush, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not lick your lips.

The thought of you and Jimin taking your clothes off together flashed through your mind and you internally screamed at yourself. This was not the time to unpack that, though you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before.

“Wah- uh, you... I was trying to cool dow- why are you barging in here?!" He rushes, taking a hasty step towards you. To have to sort through your frazzled thoughts before you remember why you were there in the first place.

"Namjoon! He's at the door!" As if to accentuate your point, Namjoon raps on the door again, calling out to you both.

"Agh!" Jimin cries, rushing forward and grabbing the hem of the shirt you still wore.

He begins to get into it as he pushes you towards the door. You could feel the horror fill your veins as the heat of his body slips in beside you, his hand at the small of your back as he guides you. Your arm brushes against his bare hip, the skin hot and smooth. You snatch your arm up and hold it against your chest as if burned and ignore the rapid change in your breathing.

"Why haven't you put your shirt on?!" You whisper, but he just huffs.

"To save time, Now show me your pretty smile and let's get rid of him so I can get dressed." Jimin's hand is on the door, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wild.

"My wha-"

The door flies open, but you're still staring at Jimin. Pretty...?

"Well hello." Namjoon is leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he gives you both a crooked grin. His eyes flicker to the room behind you, his eyes landing on the bed just beyond you both.

"Just needed the bathroom." Jimin rushes, hand once again settling in his hair.

"I didn't ask." His voice is light, but his eyes are fierce as he scans you both thoroughly.

"You were thinking about it, though." Jimin mutters. He tries to cross his arms at Namjoon, but with one arm under the shirt and one over he soon drops it. Your gaze was still stuck on him though. Pretty?

"How's the shirt working out, you both talking?" Namjoon asks, and you finally snap your attention to him. He's already watching you and raises an eyebrow. You scramble to stamp down your emotions, despite every nerve in your body sizzling.

"Oh yeah, we’re the best of friends now, right JimJam?" Your voice is bubblegum sweet, giving Jimin the goofiest smile you could muster.

"Totally! We've been braiding our hair and sharing juicy stories. We're basically besties."

Jimin beams at Namjoon, before stepping close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you. It was all part of the charade, of course. But as you're pulled back against his chest, you swear your heart could explode. His hand sits lightly on your hip, his every breath rolling down your neck. It didn’t matter that the move was practically hidden under the shirt.

"Yeah..." you laugh, but it's more of a choke as you pat his hand over the shirt and avoid meeting Namjoon's probing gaze.

Jimin clears his throat awkwardly behind you, his finger twitching on your hip. The heat between you swealters, every inch of your skin electric against his body.

Namjoon's eyes flick between you. You could see his thoughts brewing but they never pass his lips. Instead you and Jimin wait, his hands singeing your skin where they rested, his bare chest like fire against you.

"Well, I can see you're obviously working on something. But until you're actually convincing, you can stay in that shirt." He shrugs, grin widening across his face. With a final flick of his eyes, he pushes off the door frame and heads back towards the stairs.

"This is ridiculous Namjoon!" You yell at his back, crossing your arms across your stomach.

"Maybe - but you're both still wearing it." He smirks back over his shoulder.

You yell incoherent words at his back before huffing out a breath. Your fingers twitch in anger, putting a stubborn hand on your hip, the skin hot under your touch.

Faintly you realise the contact isn’t registering on your hip, and it isn’t until Jimin loosens his grip on you that you realise your hand had been resting on his. His hands fall from your body as he shuffles away, swallowing a throaty gulp.

You couldn’t look at him. It was all fun and games to begin with- oh, who were you kidding? This had been sucky, but something had shifted. You needed air, a chance to breathe, to not be tethered to the man that seems to haunt you.

“Need air.” Your voice a rasp as you step back into the room.

Jimin barely shuts the bedroom door before you’re marching to the balcony, not caring about whether you drag him along or not. Once you’re outside you heave in a breath, letting the air fill your lungs.

“That was too close.” You murmur, fiddling with the hem of the shirt.

“How was I supposed to know Namjoon would be keeping tabs?”

“I’m not blaming you Jimin! Why are you making this into an argument too?” You snap, your eyes fixed on the treeline on the edge of the property.

You feel him wriggling aggressively next to you, only to look back and see him climbing out of the shirt. You watch in horror as he slips out from under the sickly yellow material, keeping his bare back to you.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, scanning over the edge of the balcony for any sight of your friends. They couldn’t see you apart, they would never trust either of you again.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re meant to be working this out from inside the same ugly shirt-”

“No not right now. I mean, kind of. I just… Why did we let it get this far?”

You let his words hang in the air, your thoughts scattered. The thump of the music below drifts up to you, the mass of partygoers that stood out in the gardens laughing and chatting loudly. It seemed a world away from the tension that fills the air between you and Jimin.

He turns back to you with a look on his face so intense you can’t place it. But you could tell he was tightly wound - his shoulders were squared and his jaw was tight. He avoids making eye contact with you for as long as he can. But when he finally does, it was too easy to get lost in what you see there.

“We just argue, I guess.” you shrug, averting your eyes from his chest and stomach. This wasn’t the time to be fawning over him. It was hard - he was beautiful, there was no escape from that. It’s one of a million reasons you had liked him in the first place.

“You can't tell me you’re happy with that explanation.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Of course I’m not but what do you want me to say? You don’t like me, you’ve made that plain enough. Not everyone gets along.”

You bite your lip, admitting the words you’d been too scared to think out loud. But when you hear a faint gasp, your eyes shoot up to his face. His lips are parted, a look of abject shock written on his delicate features.

I d- I do like you.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him. But you do, and the words strike deep.

You can’t open yourself up to this right now. Namjoon will find a way to know that you’re both separated, and the rest of the guys will drift away. You want to be civil with Jimin, not have your entire soul bared open to him. You couldn’t survive that.

“Can you please put your shirt back on?” You mumble, your eyes laser-focused imploringly on his face, but he doesn't hear you, barrelling on.

“It’s not like I enjoy arguing with you!”

“Then why are you making it so difficult?” Your voice cracks, the hurt of your never ending battles threatening to surface.

“Do you know how hard it is to get your attention-“ he starts, his fast flow of words immediately cut off as he gawks at you, delicate fingers slamming over his lips.

“What?” You blurt, processing his words.

“No no, nothing! Forget it.” he shakes his hands at you, eyes wide and face blushing a deep pink.

“Jimin! What do you mean, get my attention?”

“I… yeah. We’re always with the guys, I guess I didn’t know how else to get you to focus on me.”

“Why?” Your voice is faint, a million thoughts crashing in your head.

“No, forget it!”

“Jimin!”

“Ah, I like you, okay?”

The air around you thickens, the distance between you a thousand miles yet still too close. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, your eyes wide as saucers and your skin prickled with goosebumps.

“You- huh?”

“I… like you. A lot. It happened pretty quickly.” He sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because it's humiliating as hell?" He laughs bitterly, his eyes darting to anywhere but you.

"Jimin..."

"No seriously. If I had told you, you'd reject me because why wouldn't you? All we do is argue."

"You think I'd reject you?" You ask, voice quiet as you step closer to him. His gaze finally snaps back to you at your movement.

"I mean, I... yeah?"

He runs a hand roughly over his face, turning his back to you. He looks so flawless in the moonlight. But he always looked flawless to you. Watching him fret like this was something so alien to you, but so human, so Jimin. You couldn’t let him suffer these feelings alone.

"Well, I wouldn't have." You mumble.

“You- what?”

Your brain scrambles, your heart hammering in your throat. He stares at you, wide eyes and chest heaving as if he was winded. Swallowing thickly you press on, despite the fear that churns in your gut.

“I wouldn’t reject you, Jimin. I… uh. I like you too.” You fiddle awkwardly with the hem of the stupid shirt.

The whole scenario had you feeling like a girl going through a childhood crush again. Though last time you had a crush on a boy who was fighting with you, you punched him in the nose. It was doubtful that would work this time around-

“Jimin?” You ask, watching as he shrinks back on himself.

You watch as he breathes, his chest rising and falling, the rapidly cooling night air raising goosebumps across his skin. It was hard to keep your brain on track.

After a moment he meets your gaze with a softness so potent it was enough to choke you.

In two steps he was on you, his lips crashing against yours. Your entire body threatens to shut down, the shock rippling through you. Before you even had a second to comprehend how good his lips felt against yours he pulls back, fear in his eyes as he worries.

You know then what you want. Who you want. You wondered why you wasted so long arguing to get it.

With your blood thrashing violently in your veins you reach your hands out to his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek before you surge forwards. The feel of the gloss on his lips smudges as you let yourself be consumed, the slightest hint of cherry seeping in.

Kissing Park Jimin. You. You’re kissing him. Your eyes slam shut as you sink into him, electricity crackling on your skin.

With no doubt in his mind at all Jimin slides his hands to your hips, fingers curling into the shirt as he moves you back, pushing you into the wall. You moan into his kiss, and he smirks against your lips. To trip him up you press the kiss deeper, letting the tip of your tongue dance at his pretty lips, wanting to taste him.

He does you one better, turning the tides and pressing the kiss back to you, tongue flicking to you.

Just like normal, you weren’t one to back down from Jimin.

Letting a hand move into his silken hair, you brush it back the way you’d seen him do a thousand times. But instead of letting your hands fall out of the soft locks, you let the strands wind around your fingers and give it a tug.

Jimin lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss to pant against your lips. Pride flows through you, but so did a sense of admiration - it was something you wanted to hear from that pretty mouth over and over.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N.” He whispers, tugging sharply on the shirt so that your body was flat against his.

You try to not let the gasp from you come out too loud, the lines of his body startlingly apparent as you’re pressed together.

“You think that scares me?”

At your words he smiles. It spreads slowly, but soon his whole face is alight, brightness shining out of him. With his fingers at the hem of the massive shirt, he gives you a filthy giggle before kneeling and slipping himself inside of the material.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, feeling the familiar sensation of being stuck in the stupid shirt with him again. But it was different too, it wasn’t suffocating like before.

His head popped back up through the ripped collar, grin still annoyingly plastered across his face.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get me out of this shirt, Park Jimin?” You whisper, breathless as he presses you back against the wall.

“I can’t deny that you have too many clothes on.” He smirks, delicate fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your hot skin. “But there’s something… ah, satisfying about having you in this shirt.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the matter Y/N, don’t think you can handle it?” His fingers circle agonisingly slow on your hips, a mischievous glint catching in his eye. He knows you so well.

“You’re gonna be the one who can’t handle it.”

“Prove it.”

You almost growl at him as he presses your buttons, but the burning in you meets the heat in your stomach. You need him more than ever.

You pull him back against you by the hair, crushing your lips together once more. He moans into you, nails pressing into your hips as your lips collide. You roll your hips against him, the fire in your veins white hot as he stutters against you. He breaks your kiss to gasp needily, eyes shut tight as your stomach brushes against the bulge in his tight jeans.

His eyes finally open, unfocused and swimming. But after a second he fixes his gaze on you, determined. A flicker of anticipation fills you, awaiting retribution.

His fingers move from your skin to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until you have to help him. The shirt you were sharing was making it difficult, and you start to regret ever letting him get his way. But as soon as you are free he presses back into you, his hot skin flush against yours, his fingers idly tracing the straps of your bra.

Just with the gentle brush of his fingertips he nudges the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising along his trail. He presses his lips to your cheek, pecking slow, soft kisses across your cheekbone as he moves towards your ear. You sigh as his mouth moves lower, plump lips pressing dainty kisses down your neck. With you swept up, his hands move behind you and unclip your bra.

A gasp passes your lips while his own are still planted at your neck, sucking on a soft spot there. Your bra slides off your body, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony.

His fingers find their way back to your hips, slowly caressing their way up. An excited shiver catches you, and you feel him laugh against your skin. His warm hands find your breasts, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin before finding your nipples.

You suck in a breath as he kisses back up your neck. He pauses to capture your lips again, lulling you into him as his thumbs brush out across your nipples.

With your staccato breathing he smirks once more into your skin. Not one to ever be outmanoeuvred by Jimin, you decide it’s time to flip the switch.

You purposefully run your fingers down his stomach, featherlight and teasing. He hitches his breath, mouth detaching from your neck as he waits, anticipating your every move. His hot breath rolls down your neck, rippling off your chest. You hide a smirk in his hair and focus on your goal.

Letting your fingers rest on his belt buckle - no doubt something obnoxiously expensive - you begin to undo him as slow as you possibly could. You slide it off, inching it so little that you could feel him get restless against you.

“You’re a nightmare.” He whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“I’m just savouring the moment.” You offer softly, the soft clinks of the buckle resting against his thigh.

“You’ll pay if you tease me like this.” His voice is high, airy. The voice of a man in complete control - though you knew that was far from the truth.

“Mm, sure Jimin.” You smirk, bringing a hand up between you to his face.

You angle him back up to kiss you, which he does with ferocity. You smile into him, the power to provoke him rich in your veins.

Your hand sinks back to his belt, and with him distracted you pull it off him fast, dumping it somewhere on the floor and popping the button of his jeans. He gasps into your kiss, fingers automatically flexing across your breasts. You hold your reaction to yourself, intent on giving nothing away until you are ready.

You tug down his zipper, pressing it back onto him so he feels the teeth unclipping against his boxers. You knew they were gonna be some annoyingly expensive brand too, but the thought of getting him to ruin them for you was intoxicating. He leans his forehead against yours, the desperation rising his face palpable.

With a sharp tug you drop his jeans to his mid-thigh before moving your fingers back to him, running teasingly around his waistband. You didn’t have to look under the shirt to know his boxers were tented, his erection straining against the fabric. You dip a finger just below his waistband, tracing along the lines of his hips. He lets out a choked breath, hips subconsciously bucking into you.

“Y/N…”

“What?” You ask sweetly, moving your fingers to brush along his pubic bone. Your knuckles barely graze the base of his shaft, but he lets out a murmur of swear words as his eyes flicker.

Not one to be overshadowed for long, Jimin lets his hands drop to your hips and immediately flies to your zipper. He presses his crotch into you, and you feel just how hard he is for you. With a flapping mouth you watch him, challenging eyebrow raised.

Everything was a game. One that you were intent on winning.

Plucking at your courage, you slide a hand back down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. His hips stutter in your hand, a gush of air forcing out of his lungs.

He felt good in your hand - really good. Firm skin, warm and pulsing in your hand. You experimentally ran a finger along his underside, tracing the vein all the way to his tip. He lets himself go then, head thrown back, eyes tightly clasped. A low groan rumbles from his throat, his fingers stilling on your zip.

“Feel good?” You whisper, pressing your lips to his.

“Ah, mm…” Is all he can manage as his head falls back.

He’s totally lost in your touch, and you’d barely started. A ripple of excitement darts through you, the sight of having Park Jimin needy and in your hands was too powerful to overlook.

A small giggle falls from your lips, the tiniest of noises. But it’s enough to spur him back to reality with his dark eyes finally refocusing on you.

He takes a breath to center himself before pulling down your jeans slowly. You feel the material slide over your hips and sit above your knees. Your panties quickly follow, thrust down faster than you can blink.

He lets a hand drag back up your thigh, running across to where you want his hand the most. Your touch on him falters as anticipation runs through your body. Ever so slowly he lets a finger stroke across your slit, barely grazing your skin. You wrap your free arm over his shoulder, taking a grip of his soft hair.

He smiles at you, and you let your eyes drag across his face. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at your scrutiny. You can’t help but admire him: the way his lipgloss is smudged up across his cupid’s bow, the sweat that seemed to be dribbling so aesthetically down his sharp jaw, the blown out pupils of his deep eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you soak him in - and that’s when he decides to strike.

He slips his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you are for him, before sliding his fingers up to your clit. He applies only the slightest bit of pressure but it’s enough to have you gasping at his touch. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you, letting his fingers move in the tiniest circles.

You slowly rock your hips on his fingers, knotting your own in his hair. You instinctively flex your hand only to have his hips instinctively thrust his cock into your hand.

Deciding to move things on just a little, you move back just enough to see his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter open at your movements, only to blow wide when he sees a trail of spit drop from your lips onto his tip. You catch it with your thumb and rub it into his tip, rolling it down his length.

A low moan leaves him, his free hand coming up to wipe your bottom lip ever so delicately. You meet his eyes, a fire burning there just for you. He drags you into a kiss, his hand scrunching in your hair.

His hand start to move again, circling you and getting into a slow rhythm on your clit. You moan into his kiss, starting your movements too until both of you were breathless messes.

The kisses became scattered and sloppier as you both let your hands work. The delicate touch of his fingers was enough to blur your vision, and your firm grip that was growing in speed on his length rendered him weak in your hands.

His own hand moves deftly, nimble fingers moving between circling your needy clit to running through your wetness. His jaw slackens each time he feels how wet you are for him, pride drifting somewhere in his lust-blown eyes.

Jimin is slick under your grasp, rock hard as you twist up and down his length. Staggered gasps fall from his lips, getting more and more careless as you drag him higher.

His circling gets a little more pressure, and it’s enough to send your head lulling back, barely able to focus on the task literally in hand. You returned his zeal, putting an extra squeeze on his length. The choke that passes his lips sends pride through your already thrashing veins. His face twitches; his forehead creases, pretty lips part slightly further, eyebrows jolt. You know he’s close, and you have the power in your hands.

But he has you, too. The pressure pulsing from your core builds, your eyes slamming shut as you're barely able to form words. You can feel it rising, teetering on the edge of something good-

-until he jerks his fingers from you. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, orgasms skittering disappointingly away from you. Your eyes open as you snap your bereft gaze to him.

“Fuck, Y/N, too quick-“ he murmurs, grabbing hold of your wrist and gently pulling your hand of his throbbing cock.

“Jimin?”

He’s fully flushed, strands of silken hair stuck to his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his chest, eyes wild.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“What if I wanted you to-“

“Don’t argue with me on this,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. But then his voice drops low, lips pulled into a deadly smirk. “I have to make you cum first.”

You barely have a second to swallow down a gasp before you’re pulled from the wall to crash against his lips.

You hold him against you with the collar of the shirt you were still trapped in, matching his energy as he kisses you desperately. Your hands are held tight against his chest, his cock resting teasingly against your stomach.

His hands let go of you to grab your hips, steering your towards the edge of the balcony.

Once you're spun he pushes you gently, bending you over to lean against the railing. Forgetting that you’re stuck in the same damn shirt, he gets yanked down with you, body flush against your back. He lets out a tiny giggle into the back of your neck and it’s as if your heart could stop from the sound.

The cool of the metal railing presses into your chest, hands bracing it through the shirt. You look to the party happening below, guests hovering out in the garden to escape the heat of the sweaty party. You were pretty well out of sight - as long as nobody looked up.

“There’s quite a few people down there.” Jimin’s lips are by your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Don’t think you can make me loud enough? That’s a shame.” You smirk, unable to stop teasing him.

“You’re gonna regret those words baby.”

The pet name strikes deep within you. It’s perfect coming from Jimin, warmth radiating across your body. And you couldn’t blame that one on the heat.

Jimin presses his body onto your back, thick erection settling just above your cheeks. You feel the heat of his hand smooth from your thigh round to the front of you. He takes a few swipes across your clit to make you jerk beneath him before his fingers drift further back.

He swirls a finger around your waiting hole, agonizingly slow. You gasp at him, pushing your hips back into him. His shaft brushes against your cheeks and you can hear him suck in a desperate breath. Spurred on by his own need, he dips his finger gradually inside.

It’s slow, pushing past his knuckle until his finger sits inside you. You feel your walls pulse around him, desperate for more. His hand stills, taking his time to pepper kisses behind your ear. He nips playfully at your lobe, taking his sweet time with each movement.

You know he’s doing it to make you suffer. And god were you suffering, using every ounce of restraint to not whine for him.

Slowly he turns his finger so it sits better inside of you. The graze of his knuckle causes you to moan, and you feel him smirk into your skin.

“That’s what I was waiting for.”

He slowly begins to pump into you. It’s instantly better than his stationary finger, but still agonizingly slow. You needed him, harder and faster.

“Jimin…” you whine, pushing your rear back into him. He tuts into your ear, stilling his fingers.

“You need to let go, Y/N. I’ve got you.” He punctuates his point by kissing a trail along your shoulder.

You bite your lip, his words hitting a little deeper than just him getting you off. You always had to be in control of yourself around Jimin - you had to win, had to be alert. You couldn’t let your emotions get hold of you.

But it was all out in the open now. He knew how you felt - and he feels the same too. Maybe you can let go, just a little. It didn’t mean you had to start losing arguments any time soon, though.

You nod, turning your head to where he was pressing kisses into your skin. He beams at you, eyes scrunching as he surges up to catch your lips.

His movements cause his thumb to brush across your clit, and you moan wantonly into him. He pulls away to peer over the balcony, the loud noise escaping you both. You follow his gaze, but you’d drawn no attention. Not yet anyway-

He looks back at you and winks, the move cheeky and completely Jimin but he silences by pulling his finger almost completely out of you. Your jaw drops at the sensation, but just as quickly he pushes it back inside you, as far as he can go.

You bite the collar of the shirt to muffle your noise. His skin was still hot against yours, a sheen of sweat building on your forehead as you focused on him.

Mercifully he begins to fuck his finger in you, curling inside you. You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes shut tight as you let yourself go.

He carries on for a few more pups before he lets a second finger coat in your wetness. On the next thrust into you, he gently presses in a second finger, and you feel yourself clamp down at the stretch. Jimin keeps pressing kisses against your skin, but he gets breathless, his own erection pressing tauntingly at your back.

He sits his fingers for just a few seconds, letting you get used to him before he works them back out of you. In and out, in and out. He’s slow again, teasing you to the point of madness. You groan in frustration, but it was just what he was waiting for.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, fucking you fast. Your hips roll to meet his pumps, the drag of him inside you delicious.

He brings up two fingers to your lips, and instinctively you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. You make sure to meet his eye as you run your tip up the crack between his fingers, eliciting a groan from him and a buck of his hips against you.

He pulls them from your mouth and moves them between your legs. His fingers find your clit, and to match the rhythm that he was fingering into you, he begins to circle your needy bud.

It pushes you over the edge, almost literally. You cling onto the balcony as you’re thrust into it, Jimin sucking marks into your neck. You groan, the contact all over your body making you weak. The wet noises that surround you are pure sin, making you bite down on your lip. Jimin groans into your skin, teeth sinking softly into your shoulder as his fingers work fast.

“Fuck!” You yelp as his fingers brush your soft spot inside.

You slap a hand over your mouth as you stare down into the garden below, fear icy in your veins as you hope you’re not spotted.

Jimin doesn’t stop though. He hides his head in your neck, thrusting his fingers faster now that he knows your weak spot.

A few people below scan around them for the source of the swearing, but thankfully none of them think to look up. You bite your lip, eyes closing as you let yourself fall back into Jimin.

“That was a close one, huh?” He whispers, a lilt of a giggle in his voice.

“Shut up.” You murmur, voice cracking as he circles your clit so well you almost see stars.

“That’s no way to talk to the man who’s got two fingers deep in your-“

“Fuck, Jimin please!” You gasp, his next words dancing at the front of your mind.

The circles on your clit get defter, pressure hitting you just right as your hips start to roll uncontrollably. You grip tightly at the railing, unable to stop the flow of moans that echo from you. Being spotted from below is less important as you can feel your orgasm rising, your legs feeling weak underneath you.

Your skin prickles from the heat generating between your bodies, Jimin’s hot breath rolling across your neck as you flush harder.

“I’m gonna...” you whimper, your words lost to pleasure.

“Cum baby, all over my fingers.” His whisper sends shivers through you, a welcome change to the heat that dribbles down your temples.

He curls his fingers on every thrust to bring you closer to the precipice. You push back against him furiously, riding his fingers and your knuckles turn white on the railings. You feel it coil in your stomach, and you know you’re so close.

“Let go Y/N.” He whispers, breath ragged from exertion, but still peppering your marked skin with tiny kisses. You screw your eyes shut as you embody his words, letting yourself give in to the feeling.

“Jimin!”

Your orgasm crashes around you, a litany of swear words moan from your lips. Your walls clench down on Jimin’s fingers, twitching under his fingertips. You slam your hand over your mouth as your moans subside, wide eyes scanning the crowd below.

Heads turn in your direction, and before you can begin to scramble Jimin pulls you back from the balcony to stand flush against him. Your heart pounds in your chest, but the thrill that runs through your veins is undeniable.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you, the gush of wetness and noise make your face heat up. He wraps that arm across your chest and holds you against him, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes. You kiss him, soft and delicate, plump lips locking with yours.

Once you pull back he grins again, before moving the fingers that were in you towards his lips. your mouth parts as you watch him slip the digits inside, taking his time to suck off the taste of you. A light whimper leaves you as you watch him finally slide them out from between your lips with a pop, devilish glint in his eye.

Witha shiver you turn in his grip, pushing him firmly back against the wall.

He hisses lightly as his back hits it, and hisses louder as you're bungied in the shirt against him. He lets out a laugh and you do the same as you right yourself. But you can't keep yourself away from him as your lips are on his again. You flick your tongue at his, the taste of you on him.

“Wanna be inside you...” he whispers between kisses, his hot fingers idling their way up and down your sides. You groan at his words, nodding dreamily at him.

“God, yes please.” you sigh, feeling his lips trace kisses along your jaw.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles against your skin, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you both.

He pushes you back against the wall, the bite of the wood pressing into your skin.

“I’ve never heard you so passive.” He laughs, thumb and finger coming up to gently grip your chin. You grin at him, a flutter in your stomach.

“Don’t get used to it Park Jimin.”

He tips his head back to laugh, a pinky flush hot on his cheeks. All you can do is watch in awe, soak him in as he glows in the moonlight. But then he looks back down at you with the stars in his eyes and you realise that, yes - this is what you had wanted all along.

You bring his lips crashing back down to yours, letting your fingers knot in his dark hair and you touch him, drink him in. The silken strands flit through your fingers, and you idly think to yourself about him running his own hands through it. You can see why he does it now.

His thumb strokes across your chin, gently pulling your face from his. You open your eyes to look at him, the flush on his face even brighter.

“Ready?”

“Give it your best shot.” you smile, peppering his jaw with kisses.

You’re stopped in your tracks when he hoists one of your legs over his hip, a teasing eyebrow raised at you. Not to be bested, you hook your leg over his ass and pull him against you. You feel his erection sit against your stomach, hard and leaking onto your skin.

He takes hold of himself and strokes across your wet slit, coating himself. A withered sigh escapes your lips as you watch his frown deepen. His face contorts as he concentrates, teasing himself just as much as he was you. You lean forward to let a trail of spit fall from your lips and drip down onto him, coating his cock even more. You don’t know what possessed you to do it again, but the way he stuttered in a gasp made it well worth it.

Then with an agonisingly slow pace, he begins to press himself just inside you. Your mind clears, all that you can see and feel is Jimin. You had waited long enough.

A wimpery sigh strangles from you, Jimin pressing against your walls until he is fully seated in you. He was so warm, stretching you in all the right places, as close to you as he could physically be.

You give him an encouraging squeeze with your leg. He takes the hint and slowly starts to pull out of you, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he looks down to watch himself pull out of you. The drag of him is good, too good, as you let a warble of noises fall out of your mouth. He doesn't seem to mind though, his focus transfixed elsewhere.

"Jimin..." you whisper, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly begins to reach a rhythm.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, any mischievous glint in him gone. He was a man on a mission now, aiming to make you feel as good as possible. You could feel that in every stroke, the way he let you feel the length of him drag almost fully out before he pushes back inside you.

You start to roll your hips back at him, determined to not let him have all the fun. The tentative thrust of your hips had his head snap up to you, a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. You try to play it off coolly - another attempt to throw him off his game - but he squeezes your ass cheeks and holds himself deep in you, and your resolve melts away.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He smirks, and despite the need to fight him bubbling in you, you tip your head back and laugh.

"I guess that applies to both of us." You smile, pressing forward to kiss his lips softly. "Now fuck me Park Jimin, or we're really gonna have a fight on our hands."

He laughs against your lips, a gentle bubble that rises from his chest. But he takes on your words, pressing you hardest against the wall and hiking your leg higher.

He only goes slow for a few thrusts, getting a feel for you before he decides to ramp it up further. 'Typical Jimin' seems to float through your head, but you just grip him tighter, moving to meet his thrusts. You wanted to savour how full he made you feel for as long as possible.

His speed picks up, a hand moving to the underside of your raised legs and digs in deep. You let your own hands slide to his hair, keeping hold of the soft locks as he starts to hit harder inside you.

The sound of your skin making contact seems to echo loudly, and you barely spare a thought to people below working out what the noise was. You didn't care if they heard any more.

It was so hot inside the shirt together, and you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your chin and down your neck. This definitely wasn't helping the heat problem at all, but there was nothing on earth that would make you stop.  The edges of Jimin's hair were getting damper, and with every tug of his hair he let his head fall back into your touch. His throat was bared to you, salty beads dribbling down his hot skin.

You murmur a series of curses as you watched him, the thrum of him being underneath you almost unbelievable.

But then he pulls out a power move.

With fast thrusts he rolls his hips, his cock dragging almost perfectly across your soft spot inside, and all your senses seem to leave you. He repeatedly manages to hit your spot and you are sure he is planning to end you, it was the only way to explain it. Death by good dick, you could see it now.

"Fuck fuck fuck." you repeat like a mantra, The wet slaps that echoes just adding to the sensation.

"Wanna turn you." He mutters breathlessly, and a part of you is glad he's also feeling so affected.

You can't seem to vocalise an answer so you nod emphatically, unhitching your leg from its vice-like grip around him. He pulls out of you and you almost complain, but then his hands are on your hips.

He spins you and presses you against the wall, lifting your leg up and lining himself back inside you again. You're practically dripping for him, so it doesn't take much for him to push back inside. You push your ass back into his thrusts making his movements stutter, and with a playful squeeze he whines behind you.

A small smirk picks up on your lips as you roll your hips back at him, starting him out of his stupor and back to where you need him.

He pounds his hips into you and you have to steady yourself against the wall. The shirt bunches awkwardly, caught in your grip as the rough wood of the wall digs into your skin. Jimin presses his front against your back, the hotness of his skin pricking against your own.

An arm slides around your waist, guiding you, holding you steady as he ferociously fucks into you. His other arm settles across your chest, his fingers clenching across your collarbone. His mouth is by your ear, ragged breaths blowing across the taut collar of the shirt and hitting the warmth of your body.

“Y/N.” Jimin groans, the lilt in his voice uneven as his hips crash into yours.

Your entire body was tingling, the pleasure from your core and the bite of the wall against your bare skin a fight for your senses. You could feel perspiration form on your forehead making your hair stick to you awkwardly but it didn't matter.

Jimin filled you in every way. The hot touch from his fingertips on your waist and across your chest, the heat of his stomach at the base of your back, the soft moans that he sings by your ears.

"That's it, baby." He groans, his fingers curling onto your skin.

The hand that he has sat on your waist slinks across your stomach to reach between your legs, letting his fingers circle your throbbing clit. The pressure makes your eyes slam shut, letting your head fall back onto Jimin's shoulder behind you.

A small single laugh falls from his lips, but your inevitable clench off your walls around him cuts it short. He thrusts a little harder, rocking you against the wall. You have to brace yourself as he fills you repeatedly, his athletic hips working overtime.

The hand that has been pressed to your chest finds its way to your throat, holding just below your jaw. You let out a moan as you cover his hand with yours, pressing his fingers into your throat.

"Shit..." He gasps, his hips stuttering.

"I bet you've been wanting to strangle me for ages." You rush, voice cracking as he circles your clit a little harder.

"Only when I've thought about fucking you."

The moan that leaves you is barely human. In fact, you were barely human any more. you were turning to putty on his cock and under his fingers. It wasn't going to be long until you reached your peak.

His fingers press into your throat under your guidance, the delicious bite making your vision slowly pool. You gasp, shivers tingling down your body. He lets up his grip a little to let your blood flow one more, your body practically vibrating from stimulation.

"Close, Jimin..." you whine, rocking your ass back into him.

"Let loose for me, Y/N." He whispers, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

He lets out one last surge of energy, fucking into you and rubbing your clit with a renewed vigour. you throw yourself back at him without care, chasing the high he was leading to you.

With a few more pumps and circles on your clit, you come undone.

Your body pulses on him, clenching down hard as your orgasm crashes through you. Your fingernails dig into his hand and the wall, a strangled cry of his name bursting from you. You cum hard on him, helping him finally reach his peak too - you could tell by the way his hips stuttered, the way he throbbed inside you.

"Cum, Jimin." you whimper, rocking your throbbing core on him.

He doesn't hold back, pumping a few stuttery thrusts into you as he cums. He fills you, gasping against your ear as your walls milk him dry. He thrusts until he can’t anymore, slowing his hips as the fullness inside of you trickles out past his length.

Both of your movements slowly lull to a stop. Jimin holds your body close against him, ragged breath hot against your ear. Your skin is prickled from the heat but you nestle into him anyway.

He finally pulls his softening length from inside you, a small dribble of your combined juices trickle down causing shivers to cover your body.

Turning your head you smile at him, slightly out of breath and dewy. The sight of him is godly: Messy hair sticking to his damp forehead, a pretty red blush spreading across his cheeks, plushy lips parted and sucking in breaths. He smirks back, a lazy grin growing. He moves closer and kisses you, gentle brushes of his lips against yours.

His hand that sat on your throat moved to stroke your cheek, and you let your hands thread in his hair as your kiss trails off into small pecks.

The air is different around you. It’s still hot, swirling close and untempered. But there’s something else too - a coolness, an understanding. A person behind the battle lines. Someone you could lean on, and someone who could keep up with you in an argument.

You pull back from him and look at him, his eyes slightly starry and his lips swollen from all they had been doing. With a soft smile you rub your thumb across his cupid’s bow, wiping off the last of his lipgloss.

“We should probably go downstairs, right? We don’t want Namjoon sticking that long neck of his out here.” Jimin whispers, his eyes finally focusing on you.

You nod, but not before pressing one last soft kiss to his lips. Now you’ve started, there was nothing in the world that could stop you from peppering him.

“Yeah.” You sigh, voice cracking slightly.

But neither of you move, both unwilling to be the first to break apart.

“I don’t want to leave here either.” He smirks, but it’s softer. Not the smirk he throws out to purposely disarm you, though it still has that effect on you.

“Where do we go from here though?”

“I guess we’ll have to work that out. Maybe we can discuss it if you let me take you out tomorrow?” He asks, eyes darting over your face for an answer.

Excitement crackles through you, electricity rippling through your head to the end of your fingertips. A smile rises on your face, and you can see the relief flow through Jimin.

“I’d love to.”

“Perfect. Now, let’s go and rub in the guy’s faces how well we’re getting on.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling.

He kisses you one last time, hard and fast, satiated for now. With that you finally separate, Pulling your clothes back on before facing each other again.

The shirt felt big now. Too big.

You couldn’t get close enough to him. You both head for the door when you feel Jimin’s fingers interlock with yours. Your entire body flushes as you open the door to the bedroom, the wall of heat from the house hitting you both.

You’re both undeterred though, determined to find your friends. You pull him down the stairs, not caring at who stares at you both in the sickly shirt. The house felt hotter, a visible mist descending over the sea of people.

You find them where they last left you, congregating around the couch. When you stop in front of them with Jimin in tow, they all take it upon themselves to scrutinise you. It was quiet for a long while, and you could feel your resolve buckling. You didn’t want them to see through you, see what happened. But you wanted them to know that things would be okay. For all of you.

You can only imagine how you looked. Out of breath and flustered, both of your hair messy and fully damp. They couldn’t see your hands knotted together inside the shirt, but they didn’t need to. The demeanor change between you both must have been glaringly obvious.

“How’s it going?” Namjoon asks, glaring between you.

“Good, we, uh. We’re getting on. Yeah.” you smile awkwardly, completely lost on why you were being so suspicious. You had more guts than that!

“That was smooth.” Jimin grins. He was worlds away from you, utterly content and calm.

“Oh my god, shut up.” You roll your eyes, but give his hands an extra squeeze under the shirt.

“Where have you guys been? I haven’t seen you all night.” Jungkook asks with wide innocent eyes, and for a moment you feel like if he knew what had just been happening he would have been tainted.

“Oh, just… exploring.” Jimin smirks, and you fight the urge to pinch him. Who knew this would go to his head?

Well, you knew. You shouldn’t be surprised at all.

“About time.” Jin sighs, eyes still glued to his phone. The others laugh and throw in their agreements.

“What?” you and Jimin both yell, eyes scanning your ‘friends’ suspiciously.

“We knew you both liked each other. It got a bit weird towards the end there but we knew you’d work it out - or Namjoon would.” Hoseok shrugs, but his face is bright as he grins at you both.

“The shirt was a bit of a, well… drastic option.” Namjoon's smile was crooked, but his eyes were bright as he grinned at you.

“Oh… I don’t know what to say.” You murmur, heat creeping across your face again.

Jimin, however, throws his head back and laughs, slapping a hand on his chest for good measure. You stare up at him in shock, but you can’t help the smile that grows on your face. He was infectious. And your friends understood. You feel a tightness unfurl in your stomach.

“Well, it worked out. It worked out really well. I mean just so so good-”

“Jimin, shut up!”  You gasp, eyes wide as he winks at Namjoon.

Well, it’s good to know that the fire is still there between you. He was still impossibly infuriating and unendingly Jimin - but it was all for you. And it was only the start.

“Sorry baby.” He whispers as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. You flush at the move in front of the others, but easily melt into his side. You had been waiting for this, after all.

“I’m glad.” smiles Namjoon, warm eyes flicking over you both in the stained and rumpled ugly item of clothing. “Maybe we should burn the shirt, though. Just for hygienic reasons.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bts x reader #bts x you #bts reader insert #bts smut #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #my writing

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 18: Girl’s Night (Heroes/Villains)

AO3

Prev

First

Teleporting back into her room in Gotham, Marinette flops onto her bed. Passing Kaalki sugar cubes and Tikki a cookie, she suppresses the urge to scream into her pillow. She was sick and tired of Hawkmoth. Sick and tired of being the one who has to fix everything. She just wanted one week with no Hawkmoth, no akuma attacks. But no. Of course not. Of course he just had to send out a stupid akuma every single day. Because why not. How’re people supposed to know he’s still being the main villain of Paris if he takes a freaking day off? Once she finds out who he is, she’s going to punch him in his stupid face. A knock on her door pulls her from her plotting ways to get back at Hawkmoth. 

“Come in.” She sighs, sitting up and forcing a tired smile on her face. 

“Marinette, your father wanted-” Selina starts, pausing as she looks her over. “Come on kitten, we’re having a girls day.” She says. Marinette raises an eyebrow. Sure she’d met Selina before, but they hadn’t really hung out yet. 

“What?” She asks. 

“You look exhausted and angry, sweetheart. Spending too much time with these boys isn’t going to help. So you’re gonna grab anything you need for an overnight trip and we’re going to go watch movies and eat junk food til we’re sick.” Selina instructs. Marinette grins, jumping up and shoving stuff into her backpack. She puts Kaalki’s glasses into her purse and lets her and Tikki fly in before she turns to Selina. 

“Ready!” She says, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. It’d been ages since she’d had a girls day with anyone. She was so ready to just take a break and be silly. 

“Well come on then. Harley and Ivy are going to adore you.” Selina says, slinging her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Somehow, they manage to not see anyone on the way to Selina’s car. Which is weird, but it is a weekday so everyone probably had something to do besides sit around the manor. Pulling away from the manor, Selina flips on the radio, the new Jagged Stone song blasting full volume.

“Nice taste in music.” Marinette says with a wide grin. Selina smirks. 

“I have to like the man at least a little, his designer is one of my kids after all.” She says. Marinette smiles, a warm feeling flooding through her. Selina didn’t have to accept her with open arms, she didn’t have to treat her like she was her own daughter. But she did, and Marinette was so thankful for that. Thankful that even so far away from her Maman, she still had a Mom there for her. The two nod along to the music, scream singing the chorus together as the car pulls to a stop in front of an apartment building. Marinette glances at the building, suddenly nervous. Would Harley and Ivy like her? Or would they just tolerate her for Selina. 

“Don’t make yourself nervous, sweetheart. Harley and Ivy are two of the sweetest people I know. They’re gonna love you.” Selina says reassuringly, reaching over and squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette lets out a breath before nodding. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She says, grabbing her bag and jumping out of the car. She follows closely behind Selina, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get between them. You could never be too careful in Gotham. They walk into the building and go straight into the elevator, Selina pushing the button and leaning up against the wall while they wait. Marinette bounces on the balls of her feet, excitement and nerves bundling together. The second the elevator stops, Marinette’s out, following Selina down the hall. She pulls out a key, winking at Marinette before turning and unlocking the door. 

“Honey, I’m home!” She calls, and Marinette’s jaw drops. The apartment was quite literally covered in plants and vines. They were beautiful. She grins as one of the vines near her leans towards her, a small flower blooming at the end of it. 

“And who did you bring with you?” A tall woman with red hair asks, walking into the room. The designer inside of Marinette instantly has a million questions about the woman’s outfit. It seemed to be made entirely of plants, but she could also tell that they were still alive. She had no idea how the woman had managed that, but she guessed that it was something that couldn’t be replicated for someone else. 

“I’m Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She says with a wide smile. The woman, who Marinette assumes is Ivy, grins back. 

“Nice to meet you, Flower. I see you’ve already made a friend.” She says, gesturing to the vine which was now wrapped around Marinette’s wrist. Marinette giggles. 

“Well, I was hoping they liked me and that’s what this was. I have a garden back in Paris, and I’d hate to find out plants actually hate me.” She says. Ivy shakes her head. 

“No worries there. They adore you, it’s a little odd if I’m honest.” Ivy says, dodging Selina who tries to flick her. 

“Did I hear Selina?” Another voice asks, a short blonde woman walking into the room. Her hair was short and choppy, the small pigtails at the top of her head dyed pink. Marinette grinned at the woman’s outfit- a Gotham Amusement Pier t-shirt, Batman pajama pants, and hot pink fuzzy socks. She wondered if her dad knows that Harley Quinn has Batman pj pants….probably not. 

“Yes, with a guest.” Selina says, plopping onto the couch and gesturing over to Marinette, who was still standing by her new vine friend. 

“Hi! I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.” She says, smiling and waving with her free hand. Ivy whispers something and the vine squeezes a bit before letting go, letting her move away from the door. 

“Well aren’t ya just the cutest!” Harley squeals, running forward and giving her a big hug. “Didjya finally join your boytoy’s adopting habits?” Harley adds, still clutching onto Marinette. Selina snorts. 

“No, he beat me to her. But she’s definitely mine, too.” She says, making Marinette’s face turn red. Harley coos at her, ruffling her hair before stepping back. 

“So what brings ya here? Get annoyed with Bats already?” Harley asks. Marinette blinks in shock. Harley knows? She thinks about it for a minute, and realizes it just makes sense. They’d been fighting long enough and then he started his relationship with Selina, who was one of Harley’s best friends. It just made sense that Harley (who was extremely smart) would put two and two together. 

“No, just thought that Mari could use a girl’s day. She’s been stuck with just the boys for over a week.” Selina explains. Harley gasps. 

“The horror!” She says, making Marinette giggle. “Come on pumpkin, I’ve got the comfiest jammies ever. Oooo, and we can paint our nails! Ivy, find the movies, Selina, you’re on snacks. This is gonna be so much fun!” Harley orders, grabbing Marinette’s hand and tugging her along to one of the bedrooms, Selina’s laugh echoing throughout the apartment. 

“I did bring pjs, ma’am.” Marinette says, once Harley stops tugging her and starts searching through a drawer. 

“Bet that can’t be comfier than the ones I’ve got for ya! And call me Harley kiddo, or Auntie Harley if ya wanna.” She says, looking up from the drawer to smile widely. She looks back and cheers in victory, pulling out a pair of bright red pajama pants. Marinette snorts when she notices the logo all over the pants. 

“Really?” She asks, giggling. Harley smirks. 

“We’ll have to take a picture of us and send it to your old man. Really get ‘im riled up.” She says. Marinette nods excitedly, taking the Robin pants from Harley. This was gonna be awesome. 

---

Bruce sighs, looking at the news report from Paris from earlier. The damned butterflies were hard to track. He was used to figuring out problems quickly, and this one was taking too long for comfort. It wouldn’t bother him as much if it was anywhere else, but it was directly impacting his daughter. She was being hurt daily, and she’d even died and now she was plagued with nightmares. All because of a man with some magic jewelry. God, he hated magic. A knock on the study door stirs him from his thoughts. 

“Come in.” He says.

“Hey B, have you seen Mari? I was gonna ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with me and Little D.” Dick asks, leaning against the door frame, Damian standing next to him with his arms crossed.

“Not since breakfast. There was another akuma attack earlier, but it wasn’t a bad one. She wasn’t injured.” He says, remembering the completely strange battle from earlier. It was some man with pigeons, and apparently this was the 34th time the man had been akumatized over pigeons. 

“Did you not check her room after the battle?” Damian asks, eyebrow quirked. Bruce sighs. 

“It was the pigeon one again. I assumed that she’d want to take a nap, if anything. She still hasn’t been sleeping well. Tim said she’s awake every morning when he comes up for coffee, whether it’s three or five, she’s up.” Bruce explains, frowning at the thought of his youngest daughter’s sleep habits. He certainly didn’t need another sleep deprived coffee addict like Tim. It wasn’t healthy. 

“Well I already checked her room. She wasn’t there.” Dick says, and Bruce frowns, pulling out his phone to send a text to Tim and call Jason. One of them had to have seen her. She never left the house without telling one of the family, unless it was for a battle. 

“What.” Jason says gruffly, Bruce is just grateful he answered. Up until a couple of months ago, Jason would have rather thrown his phone in the river than answer one of Bruce’s calls. 

“Have you seen Marinette?” He asks, getting straight to the point.

“No? Why? What’s wrong?” Jason asks, and Bruce hears shuffling as Jason rushes around wherever it is he is. 

“Nothing. I’ll call you back.” He says, hanging up. He glances down at his texts and notices Tim hasn’t seen her either. He frowns, but doesn’t panic yet. Pulling out his computer, he pulls up the tracker that was on each of his children’s phones. He scans the map, frowning when he sees that her phone is still in the manor. In her room. He stands and swiftly moves past his sons to get to his daughter’s room. He knocks, waiting for an answer. None. 

“Marinette?” He calls, knocking again. “I’m opening the door.” He warns, pushing it open. He frowns at the empty room, nothing appearing out of place. 

“Do you think she had to pop back to Paris for something?” Dick asks, coming up behind him. Bruce shakes his head. 

“No, she would have told us. Suit up, she has to be somewhere in-” He stops as his phone chimes. He looks at it and feels all of the tension leave his shoulders. 

Took our youngest daughter for a girl’s day, back tomorrow XO. Of course Selina had her. 

“She’s with the Sirens. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Bruce says, suppressing a smile at the annoyed look on his youngest’s face. She was safe, and that’s what matters. Even if he was certain he’d have to listen to Damian complain for the entirety of patrol. 

---

“Make all the boy moose go WAAAAAAAAA!” Harley says with the movie, laughing loudly. Marinette chuckles, passing Tikki a cookie in her purse before sticking another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. 

“I still like the first one more.” Selina says, taking a sip of her wine. Harley sticks her tongue out at her before turning her attention back to the movie. 

“Do you think Mia is secretly a superhero?” Marinette asks, frowning in thought. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Ivy asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even Harley pauses the movie to turn and stare at her. 

“Stan Lee.” Marinette says with a shrug. 

“Is that s’posed to mean something to me, kid? Cause I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Harley says, obviously confused. Marinette huffs. 

“Stan Lee makes a cameo in this movie. And Stan Lee is the creator of Marvel, right? He’s made a cameo in like, every single Marvel movie. So is Mia secretly a superhero? Is that why he’s in the movie?” Marinette rambles, almost flinging ice cream at Selina as she gestures crazily. 

“Sweetie, how much sleep have you had in the past three days?” Selina asks after a few moments of silence. 

“Not important. Is Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia, also a superhero? Does she secretly work for SHIELD? Or is she more like Iron Man, like a freelance superhero? Was she a hero in San Francisco too? Or did she take over a hero's mantle when she moved to Genovia? Cause she was really clumsy in the first movie and also super awkward, but now she’s less clumsy and she seems to be more put together, but are heroes really put together? I don’t think so. I think sometimes heroes pretend that they’re put together to make everyone else feel better when in all reality they’re seconds away from a breakdown themselves. Is Stan Lee coming to recruit her for SHIELD? Is that why he’s in Genovia? Does SHIELD have any jurisdiction there? Is there a Genovian branch of SHIELD?” Marinette rambles, suddenly stuck on the topic. Seriously, why is Stan Lee in Princess Diaries 2 if Mia isn’t a hero? Why would he-

“Kitten, take a breath.” Selina says, her hands on Marinette’s shoulders helping her to ground herself. Marinette takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She blinks a few times, instantly feeling bad. 

“I’m so sorry.” She says, frowning. 

“What for?” Harley asks, looking confused. 

“For ruining girl’s night.” She says quietly. Selina pulls her into a tight hug and Marinette sinks into it. 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t know everything that’s going on. But what I do know, is that you rambling out a conspiracy theory about the movie we’re watching is not ruining girl’s night. Trust me. One time, we invited your brother Dick, and he ate all of the cookies by himself.” Selina says, Marinette snorts. Of course he did. “Now that’s a way to ruin girl’s night.” She adds, squeezing her once more before leaning back.

“Let's watch something that we can just get lost in and not have to think at all.” Ivy suggests, looking through the stack of dvd’s. Marinette glances over, eyes instantly catching one of her favorite movies. 

“Legally Blonde?” She suggests, Harley squeals. 

“That’s it, you’re officially ours. Brucie can fight me.” She says, putting in the dvd. Marinette laughs, laying her head on Selina’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of popcorn. She could get used to nights like these.

Next Chapter

Bonus chapter: Harley Vs Bruce

Drawing of Harley and Mari’s pajamas

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