#(creeping back in pretending like i wasn’t gone for like 2 months)

[roarriita]

eres tu - ellie williams

latina!fem!reader! x elliewilliams!

wc: 1.7k+

content warning: explicit language

tags: @prrimordiais @prettyplant0 @sparkleswonderland @minustwofingers @intrnetdoll @elliesflower @frogychu @scandalcus (if you'd like to be tagged in any future chapters of 'eres tu' just lmk in the comments or pms <33)

// initial summary: you and ellie use to be best friends until she made the awful choice to end things with you. skip to a year later, you guys are at each other's throats, pretending to not care and to not feel. as ellie's 19th birthday is creeping up, you find yourself wanting to patch things up with her, but will the stubborn auburn-haired girl make that easy for you? //

// a/n: awful description i'm sorry, i just really wanted to get this out there so that i can work on one of my other current works, hope you guys enjoy!! and ps, you don't have to be latina to read, just thought it'd be cute!! //

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your wrists flicker bewitchingly as you play your violin. out of all your classes this school year, violin would have to be your favorite. the sweet and heady melodies the instrument makes as you maneuver its bow against the strings is all it takes to put your mind to ease. in a world in which society has collapsed and uninfected humans are difficult to come by, this is what you needed. well, this and– “can you shut up with that? like honestly, you’re starting to give me a headache.”

the violin lets out a small shriek as you come to an abrupt stop. you place the instrument on your lap as you turn your head to look at ellie, who has gone back to writing in her cedar colored journal. you tried to hold back the anger that begged to come out as you burned a glare into the side of her temple. “how about you go and fuck yourself? the only reason as to why i’m trapped in here with you instead of at my violin lessons is because of your pettiness and lack of showmanship.”

ellie’s grip on her pencil tightened as her eyebrows furrowed. you weren’t wrong, not entirely. it’s your last year of high school and you only have 2 more months to go until you officially graduate and are assigned real adult jobs by maria. your science teacher thought it’d be fun to have two of her top students in that class participate in a ‘friendly’ competition over the subject. let’s just say things were not friendly and when you seemed to have been in the lead with only a few minutes left of class, ellie blurted out the fact that you didn’t learn how to read until you were 9 years old and that you were probably cheating.

of course, you didn’t let that slide and in return spilled one of her big secrets which was the fact that she plagiarized her 10th grade english paper from some random textbook she found on a run with joel. it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if it wasn’t the same paper that got her on honor roll and at the top of her class. she stole that spot from another girl who was a brilliant writer and worked her ass off to show it be reflected in her work. so, then that girl stepped in and started verbally attacking ellie and before anyone knew it, people were turning against each other, some siding with the writer, others siding with ellie and her desperate attempt at passing 10th grade english, ‘cause in her defense, the assignment was pretty difficult.

ellie turned her head to you as she shut her journal. “ugh, finally.” you scoffed. “we have another 45 more minutes left of detention to go and i do not want to hear your imperceptible scribbling for the time being.”

‘imperceptible’ the word replayed over and over in ellie’s head as she tried to search for the meaning. when she couldn’t, it caused her to grow even more frustrated. it might’ve taken you a little longer to learn how to read and write than the other kids in jackson but once you did, you made sure to read every book and dictionary you could get your hands on. the thought of ever being humiliated for your lack of knowledge, drove your motivation. 

when you first met ellie, she thought it was cute. she’d smile at those ‘big and weird’ words you’d use to describe the simplest of actions and emotions and would even ask you what they meant. you’d always be happy to answer and even throw in a few fun facts about the word, but now? oh now, she just found it insufferable. she found you insufferable. “you know, i meant what i said, about you cheating. no way could you recall all of the constellations off the top of your head. you’re too slow for that.”

you ran your tongue over your front teeth as an annoyed smirk took a hold of your lips. “you are such a sore loser. it’s entertaining actually. the way your eyes flicker with anger the second i do anything that ticks you off.” you leaned in her direction, refusing to break eye contact. “my favorite part about it all is that i don’t even have to try and your anger runs rampant with thoughts of me. glad to know i have that kind of power.”

ellie felt a familiar, yet unwelcomed knot in her stomach as you stared at her. the teasing words that left your lips didn’t help her situation either. “what?” you questioned. “cat got your tongue?” the fire you lit in her chest grew brighter at your snarky comment but the knot in her stomach also tightened. she looked over you, her eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, to the small facial details all around your face until they landed back on your (y/c/e). 

“i hate you.” ellie cursed.

you blinked a few times as a powerful sting erupted from your chest. you caught your smirk before it could fully fall and recollected yourself. “i hate you too.”

✩───────────✩──────────✩

your eyes linger on the ceiling of your room as your thoughts jump from subject to subject, ellie being one that keeps coming back. your friendship used to mean the world to the both of you, then one fight over something so stupid and boom, it’s over and you find yourselves fighting over what was supposed to be  a ‘friendly’ competition. the love you have for ellie is still there, it never left. it could never leave. a knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts.

you quickly get off your bed, making sure to suck back in the tears that were seconds away from spilling and open your bedroom door. “(y/n), ven.” your mother, who’s still as youthful as the day the infection went wildfire, said as she grabbed your hand and led you to the kitchen.

“¿para qué?” you questioned.

“i want you to try the arroz con leche i made for ellie.” your mom smiled as she poured you a cup of the piping hot drink.

you groaned, rolling your eyes. “why’d you make her some? do you still talk to her, venus?”

your mother sent you a death glare for using her first name. “you know, back in my day you would’ve gotten a smack on your behind for that.”

“yeah, well back in your day you also didn’t have clickers running wild, trying to satisfy it’s insatiable hunger with you either, now did you?” you snarked. the next glare your mom sent you felt much scarier and more threatening. you shuffled between your two feet quickly before dropping your piss poor attitude. “i’m sorry.” you hung your head low as you sat on the wooden barstool.

you rested your elbows on the kitchen island and placed your cheeks in the palm of your hands. your mom reeled herself back, understanding that ellie was a sensitive topic for you. she didn’t know the whole story of your fallout. all she knew was what you told her after you came home, snot running down your nose, teary clouds blurring your vision and sorrowful sobs leaving your throat. 'she stopped talking to me a few weeks ago, she blew up on me over something stupid i said and then i tried talking to her again today and ugh, mami she was such an asshole, i don’t get it. i just miss her.'

your mother gave you a look of sympathy, before carefully placing the cup in front of you. “listen, i know your relationship with ellie right now is… complicated–”

“right now?” you repeated. “ma, it’s been almost a year already.”

“so? tu papa y yo, fuimos 2 years without talking,” your mothers accent made itself more apparent as she passionately spoke and switched between english and spanish. “and yet, we still found ourselves back to each other. love is greater than any other emotion we feel (y/n), whether that’d be fear or anger. if what you had with ellie was as strong as you believed it once was, then she will come back to you. maybe she was going through something, blew up, felt embarrassed and let her pride win.”

you took careful sips of your drink, taking in all that she said. your mother possessed many amazing qualities but her ability to make others feel seen and understood was one of her greatest ones, as well as giving fruitful advice. “i mean, did you try talking to her again after things cooled down?”

“no.” you quickly let out. “the first time she blew up on me, that’s what i did, i waited until things cooled down but the second time? nu-uh, message-fucking-recevied.”

your mother scoffed amusingly as she began pouring the liquid into a tall thermal. the fact that you finished your drink in the small amount of time in which this conversation was taking place was all the answer she needed to know that what she made was more than delicious. “you’re gonna give her all of it?” your face scrunched up, wanting another serving or two.

“it’s her early birthday present. 19 is a pretty big number.” venus smiled as she took off her mits and placed the empty pot in the sink. “now, please wash that while i go over and take this to them.”

“what, no.” you whined, hating having to wash dishes, especially big pots with gunky stuff stuck to the bottom.

“okay, fine.” your mother placed the thermal back down. “you take it over to them. and don’t just hand it to joel, make sure you let ellie know that it was from me and that we both wish her an early happy birthday.” your eyes widened as you took in a deep and sharp breath. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” 

before your mom could leave, you stopped her. you really hated washing big pots, this is your only reason for wanting to take the thermal to ellie. it had nothing to do with what your mom just said or the unspoken fervent thoughts and feelings you still possessed for ellie. “fine, i’ll go. just, let me get dressed first.”

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#ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem!reamder #ellie x latina reader #angst #jackson ellie #bestfriends to enemies to lovers #mwahaha #eres tu by carla morrison

[euargh]

I posted 576 times in 2022

That's 576 more posts than 2021!

157 posts created (27%)

419 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/ chuchuinwonderland

@/ veele70

@/ im-being-held-hostage

@/ firecooking

@/shinekittenace (SORRY, I'M REALLY SHY AND DON'T WANT TO ACCIDENTALLY ANNOY ANYONE. -SOBS.-)

I tagged 555 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#lmao - 167 posts

#spamton - 166 posts

#deltarune - 54 posts

#same - 44 posts

#me - 40 posts

#blogging - 36 posts

#garfield - 35 posts

#vent - 28 posts

#mood - 24 posts

#idk - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#lmao no really he did literally wake up screaming and it freaked me out but he saw and experienced in his nightmare the hells i endured

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

had a rough past two three years, but I think I will try to maybe return back into the internet world and try to revive this account because I want to be part of a fandom and community again. I’ve become reclusive but the Spamton fandom makes me want to crawl out of hiding to join in. I have no idea who I am following or who is following me, sorry. but uh hi there. also I forgot how to use this place but I shall learn (I want to make my layout Spamton themed.)

edit: my carrd https://segstuff.carrd.co/ and discord info: https://euargh.tumblr.com/post/702133847753736192/heres-my-discord-superevilgenius5125-feel-free art tumblr: https://segdraws.tumblr.com/

8 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#4

Sorry for not posting this earlier. I ended up having to simultaneously cook/clean for the entire day and then got angry at myself for not making this quick video sooner. I hate that my bank account only has four dollars in it. If I knew a Jevil plush was going to happen, I would have saved up for it like I did the Spamton plush. B’) Oh well.

10 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

My dad: [unclear] called me a big shot! Here’s your package.

Me: WHAT THE MAIL PERSON GETS THE JOKE AND OPENLY SAID IT AFTER RECOGNIZING THE PACKAGE’s RETURN ADDRESS?!

Dad: no, I said your package called me a big shot.

Me: oh

I saved for months and had finally enough money just in time to order SPAMTON on its release day! HE IS HERE!

13 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#2

story time:

so today I woke up after hearing loud electrical buzzing outside. It was freaky and sounded like something getting electrocuted. Suddenly BOOM the power went out. I sat up. The power returned then flickered again before shutting off. Again it happened, then finally stayed off for a few hours. It made me finally realize how horrible it must have been when my family was without power for two weeks during the Texas shutdown back in February 2021. I wasn’t here when it happened but lmao I like thinking that because I am back and here to stay it won’t happen again. (LIKE, I’M GONE FOR SIX MONTHS AND EVERYTHING FALLS APART, GOES TO HELL, AND DIES. Typical. There were so many dead trees and things and everything was in ruins when I had returned and other bad things. Jeez, fml. but... I guess maybe that means I am actually important? idk I just try to find stupid little things to give me reason to continue living instead of the “end it” dark thoughts solution that creeps up on me.) Anyways back on topic. I was irritated at being in the dark but I remembered  my Garfield lamp and used it!

I currently obsess over Garfield, Spamton, and Inside Job. Secondary obsessions, Peeps chicks, Pokemon cards. It’s hard remaining interested in things so I force myself to obsess over things to “stay” and pretend there’s meaning. I was originally going to film something and shower today but it was dark and becoming cold in the house and I changed my mind. (58F and dropping. Currently it’s 45F down here.) Then the power finally returned, but then every single hour it would shut off again. I suppose it was due to the wind outside being cold and heavy. This tropical region can’t handle the cold. Anyways, I think the power is finally stable. dunno, just wanted to log down a diary entry. hi

16 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

oh man people keep thinking Jevil sold out faster than Spamton because he’s popular, (which yessss he’s awesome) but REALLY Fangamer stated themselves that it takes a couple months to make a bunch of plushes and most likely after the Spamton plush was released, there was a HUGE demand for Jevil plushes to which they went to work on that. (As in the Spamton plush was announced on 4/20, then it was released many months later in September! whereas the Jevil  plush only had a few months to be worked on (September to November) and they weren’t sure how good the sales would be and decided to test before creating a whole load of them like the Spamton plush, to which it was successful and now they will make a whole load of them. AND I TOO REALLY WANT ONE,

29 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

[wildersfanart]

I:HATE:YOU

#couple of mirrors #yiwei #xu youyi #yan wei #shuang jing #id in alt text #paintings #fanart #200th post!! #(creeping back in pretending like i wasn’t gone for like 2 months)

[youryanderedaddy]

Okay but the Knight X Reader story.. That was CRISP. I'm wondering, could we get an epilogue or a part 2?? 👀

tw: female reader, mentions of non - con, obsessive behavior, captivity, slavery, kinda sweet?

Life with Raven wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, as long as you managed to detach yourself from reality and keep your eyes and mouth shut. The man's basic needs started with carnal pleasure and ended with hunting, fighting, all barbaric acts yet so entertaining to the tribe. Yes, the warrior was easy to understand and you quickly got used to his desires, but that never made them any less disturbing. It didn't make his stare less intense, his teeth less sharp and his warm embrace less suffocating.

Things were different now, six months into your captivity. You were still expected to be quiet and obedient, a perfect little pet for your master, and even if you decided to test his patience, it simply resulted in more suffering for you, rather than liberty. You had given up on fighing though, it was pointless. The first time you had tried to run away Raven had caught you in an hour. He had purposely let you get close to the nearest civilised village, so close to freedom you could practically feel it in your lungs and taste it on your tongue, only for it to be brutally ripped from you the moment you reached the city gates. The warrior's eyes had turned black while he took you right there, on the ground, in the mud, all while the sky poured its misery in the form of a thunderstorm. For a moment you had been convinced the whole nature was following into the man's anger, each cold drop merging with your hot salty tears into a mess of painfull emotions and even more painful sensations.

"Get it into your thick skull, slave." Raven had growled into your ear with pure venom in his voice while he violated your body mercilessly. "You can never run away from me for you are mine." You couldn't hold back your cries as his lenght pierced through you, splitting you apart with no remorse or guilt. Meaningless to say, this was your first and last escape attempt.

Since then you desperately wanted to survive, to be the only one standing in a world where all of your kind were long dead and gone. You obeyed your master's each command without hesitation, you even went out of your way to remember all of his likes and dislikes so you could win his favor once again and live as comfortably as a slave could. It was surprisingly easy to fool the male and get under his skin just by uttering a few flatters, voicing interest here and there and not trying to kill him in his sleep - something you learnt his own brother had tried to do back in their childhood. Now the soldier was easier to deal with, almost gentle in the way he picked you up before trapping you down underneath his heavy body, cleaning your wounds and letting you rest when you proved unable to do your duties that day. You soon realized the warrior was incredibly lonely despite his strength and power, desperate for affection, validation and honest touch. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before taking advantage of his weakness backfired greatly.

It was dark outside the longhouse you were locked in that night, on the line between late night and early morning, when the sky is clear yet so very dark in colour, shattered vivid stars all over. You were laying on your back, sweaty and tired, pretending to be dead. Your mind was empty, but your body ached too much for you to be able to fall asleep. Raven had just used you hard after a long day of hunting, subjecting you to hours upon hours of rough "play" (as he called it), hushed whispers too vulgar and crude to be repeated even in your mind and countless sweet kisses, harsh bites and blue bruises across your skin. Now he was simply gazing at your sleeping form, taking in your beauty, admiring just how peaceful and sweet you looked when you were tangled in your own world of dreams, far away from his constant abuse and manipulation. The warrior slowly lowered his head and placed a small chaste kiss to your cold temple, muttering "sweet dreams" under his breath. If he had known that you were wide - awake under the mask of a deep slumber, he probably wouldn't have let the following words leave his mouth.

"You are a mere slave." The barbarian mumbled softly as he stroked your damp hair, running his fingers through your locks. A cold shiver ran down your spine at his touch but you forced yourself to remain stock-still. "How did you manage to steal my heart?" The man added after a while, desperation creeping into his voice as he claimed your lips genlty, much gentler than he had before. "I can't help it now, cara mia, I love you." He inhaled deeply and chuckled to himself bitterly. This was the moment you knew you had outdone yourself.

Now there was truly no escape from the enemy's deadly embrace. You could fight lust but you could never win against obsession.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #yancore #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere x female reader

[markleesthighs]

dangerous woman

pairing: idol!mark x richceo!y/n (fem)

genre: strangers to lovers!au, fluff, suggestive to smut

song: dangerous woman by SuperM (Mark’s pov) or Ariana Grande (y/n’s pov)

a/n: mark’s birthday special! Mentions of drinking, rich partying, some dom!y/n and sub!mark (suggestive and smut), also some mommy!kink (please be safe!!)

SuperM was in the US again, for another round of their concerts across the nation. You were a backer behind SuperM, loving their music and overall aesthetic. You’ve never met them since you deposited your money overseas but it would be a simple hello and thank you from them via a card and that would be it. You heard from someone that Mark’s birthday was coming up, and you wanted to give SuperM a proper place to celebrate his birthday. You decided to let SuperM stay and party at one of your mansions for the weekend. Luckily they weren’t performing the day of or day after Mark’s birthday, so it was a perfect opportunity.

You reached out to their managing staff and since you were one of the top backers for them, they humbly agreed. You arranged transportation, food, decorations, drinks, and everything the boys needed for their party celebration. You arrived at their hotel in style in your white Lamborghini, accompanied by your body guards who were driving other patrolling cars, ensuring your safety. One of them opened the door of the car for you and holding your hand. You were dressed in a black Armani pantsuit, black Louboutin heels, a black Louis Vuitton clutch, and Prada sunglasses. You were a showstopper, getting honks from cars in the streets to poor bellhop looking at you in fear. 

You entered the hotel to find the manager of the hotel to greet you. 

“Miss y/n.” The manager spoke as she bowed.

“Hello.”

“They are on the 45th floor in the penthouse suite.”

“Thank you.”

You and your bodyguards promptly went to the elevator up to the 45th floor and walked to their suite. You ringed the doorbell and knocked on the door twice. You heard a manger franticly curse in Korean before opening the door to greet you. You and your bodyguards bowed as you greeted him in Korean, asking him where SuperM was and if they were ready to depart. He apologized saying they were still packing but that you could still come inside. Their manager was yelling in Korean about how you had arrived and they had to hurry up. You walked inside and your bodyguards helped you remove your shoes as you walked into the living room area. 

You removed your sunglasses as you analyzed the room. It wasn’t super messy, just a few snacks and drinks all over the place. You picked up an empty Shin ramen cup, you smiled, these were always yummy to eat after a flight. You wondered if there was any Shin ramen laying around so you got up and found some packs in the kitchen. A member smelled the ramen and walked into the kitchen. 

“Hyung? Are you cooking ramen? Can I have-” 

He saw you and looked at you up and down. 

“Some. “

You turned to look at him, he looked so cute. His hair was still a mess, had his glasses on and a clean shaven face. 

“Wait...y-you’re...y/n! I-I’m so sorry for being informal! I-I’m M-mark from SuperM!” 

He bowed down all the way down on his knees apologizing dozens of times. You turned off the stove and walked over to him to lift his chin up. Mark smelled your Valentino Donna perfume and it was intoxicating to him. You smelled and looked amazing. Your eyes met Mark’s as he innocently gazed at you, you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes. 

“I know who you are cutie.” You giggled. 

Mark got up after mumbling an “o-oh yeah, haha” and scratched the back of his neck. Mark kept staring at you, he had never seen anyone like you, you somehow looked like his ideal type, yet he’d never met you. Mark’s manager noticed him staring at you before he yelled at Mark to go back to his room and continue changing before he embarrasses himself in front of you. Mark apologized as he shyly left in his t shirt and pajama pants. You continued to make your ramen and ate some while you looked on your phone. You could hear the mumbling of the other members talk about you in Korean. 

“Hyung, she’s really pretty.”

“I know, I wonder how old she is.”

“You never ask a woman how old she is!”

“I would kill to date a woman like her.”

“She probably had a boyfriend or even a husband!”

You sat in the living room as each member walked out one by one greeting you and getting to know you. Mark was the last one to arrive and sheepishly apologized before joining his members in the living room. You noticed how almost all the members wore designer clothing (which you complemented them on) except Mark. He wore a simple t-shirt, jeans, baseball hat, and a Jansport backpack. You hadn’t seen one of those backpacks since elementary school. He looked simplistic yet cute, you liked it. 

“So, who’s the lucky birthday boy?” 

All the members turned and gestured to Mark pinching his cheeks and making goo goo noises towards Mark because he was the youngest of the group.

“Oh, so how old are you turning?”

“2-22 in America but 2-23 in Korean age.”

“Oh! I just turned 21 a couple months ago! How interesting. So I guess you’re my Oppa~”

Mark’s face instantly blushed looking away from you while everyone else laughed. You escorted and assigned the guys their cars and which bodyguard they’d be accompanied by. However, everyone was confused that Mark didn’t get assigned a car, which led to you announcing that Mark would be driving with you since he was the birthday boy. Everyone teased Mark with an “Ooh” or an “Ahh” and Kai blurted out in Korean “Don’t have too much fun!” as him, Ten, and Lucas left in their car. A bodyguard took Mark’s luggage and put it in one of the other cars while he gestured Mark to follow you. A bodyguard opened the car doors for you on the driver’s side and Mark on the passenger side. Mark stayed silent when you turned on the car as you prepared to leave. 

“Why so quiet birthday boy? Never been in a Lambo before?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry that I’m being really awkward.”

“It’s alright, you ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

You and the other cars promptly left the hotel, you could see Mark’s shocked face hearing the engine and watching everyone in the streets look at you and Mark in the car. Mark looked shy and reserved keeping his hands in his lap and trying to not stare at you too much. At a stoplight you caught Mark staring at you so you turned to scare him a bit. 

“You like what you see baby?”

Mark’s ears turned red and he was panicking in the passenger seat. Mark enjoyed everything about you, your smell, look, and confidence. But you were a backer, a business partner, he shouldn’t be flirting with you. But you were so intoxicating and he wanted a little taste. Mark leaned closer to you almost brushing against your lips. 

“Maybe I do.”

Mark looked at you up and down which turned you on a bit. Mark bit his lip as you were about to kiss him, he turned away. 

“The light is green.”

“Fuck you.”

You pulled away and stepped on the gas making Mark fall back into his seat. He could see the annoyed look in your face. He liked it, it made you look cute. You sped your way to your mansion out of frustration and anger, no man has ever left you hanging like that. You stepped out of the car and slammed the door. Your bodyguards, Mark, and the other members had no time to catch up to you or ask you what was wrong. Mark now felt bad, he didn’t want to play with your heart, especially when he has only known you for three hours. Mark took his luggage as he shyly went inside with the other members. 

They were stunned by the mansion, it was shiny like a new toy to all the members. They began to hoot and holler running all over the place, looking at your giant pool, arcade room, and private spa and sauna. While they were running around wondering where they will choose to sleep, Mark wanted to find you. He kindly asked one of the body guards if they knew where your room was and they guided him into your room. 

Mark knocked on your door but there was no response so he slowly opened the door to find you no where in sight. He was confused yet shocked by the volume and luxury of your room. It was huge and simplistic yet it was also refined. Everything was perfectly clean he could smell your perfume all over your room mixed with the smell of your clean sheets. He heard some rummaging from another part of your room which was your closet. There was a crack in the door so Mark slowly approached to take a little peep to see how you were doing. 

He saw you looking around your giant Barbie-sized closet in your cute fuzzy bathrobe and bunny slippers. He noticed you pulling out a few party dresses before you settled on wearing a Versace dress with a pair of matching sandals to match. Mark watched you remove your robe to reveal your matching black lace undergarments and your almost naked body. Mark needed to look away but he couldn’t watching your hips, dips, curves and waist was making his mouth water. He watched as you put on your dress but struggled to zip it up all the way. 

Mark was about to knock on the door and pretend he wasn’t looking before you caught his adorable puppy eyes looking at you through the reflection in your full length three paneled mirror. He looked like a puppy waiting patiently for his owner to come out, you couldn’t help but pout. 

“You can come out Mark.”

Mark was in so much shock that he accidentally bumped into your door falling over onto the cold marble floor. He got up and brushed off himself and kept apologizing for creeping up on you. As you approached him his eyes kept looking down in shame. 

“I-I am s-so sorry! I didn’t mean to look but-”

“But what?” You walked closer to him taking your finger and lifting his chin up. 

“Y-you l-looked really nice.”

“Nice? Just nice?”

“Y-yeah..”

“You’re so cute. You should go get changed and go downstairs before your friends think you’ve gone missing.” You chuckled and tapped his nose. 

After that Mark promptly left your room to go downstairs to join his members in picking their rooms. Taeyong suggested that they check out the upstairs for other rooms, Mark found himself a room that was right next to yours. It was a pretty sizable room, simple decor with a full sized bathroom and walk in closet. Mark got dressed into an all black suit with a black undershirt. Mark styled his hair with a little gel. All the other SuperM members were yelling at Mark to come down to celebrate, ordering limitless amounts of chicken, beer, soju, and watermelon, Mark’s favorite meal. 

Mark walked out of his room to coincidentally see you also walk out of your room. You looked breathtaking, your hair, makeup, everything, everything was perfect. Mark gestured you to go downstairs first and watch you cascade down gracefully. As Mark walked down he could hear all his member’s screaming and clapping. They also invited some friends of Mark’s that were in the area to come help and celebrate. 

Music was blasting, drinks, food, and games were being tossed around everywhere. It was a fun night. You allowed the guys to have their fun, dance around drunk while singing karaoke or playing another round of street fighter. You liked this. You loved that SuperM gave you a taste of what it’s like to be a normal adult in their 20s, living and enjoying their life to the fullest. 

It made you ponder, you never wanted them to leave. They were a breath of fresh air, it gave you an excuse to take three vacation days from your busy schedule. It made you regret throwing yourself into a billion dollar business at 18. You just wanted to have fun, not sit and do paper work all day. But at the end of the day you felt it was worth it, because you would allow people and groups such as SuperM to thrive and bring some sort of happiness to others. 

As you were reflecting you pulled yourself outside onto the pool deck sitting in a lounge chair looking up at the clear sky, listening to your infinity pool brush water off the clear edge. Mark noticed you were alone so he took this opportunity to get to know you, before he considers pulling some real moves. 

“Hey, y/n? You alright?”

“Y-yeah! How’s the party?”

“It’s AMAZING, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a fun-filled and memorable birthday!”

“Of course.”

“Why are you outside, alone?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I’m going to do when you guys are gone.”

“Gone?” “Yeah I’d have to fly back to Milan soon for fashion week, I have a fittings, approvals, and adjustments of garments to do.”

“Oh.” Mark looked slightly sad. 

“I just wish you could have stayed longer with me.”

You glanced up at him. 

“Us! I mean- I mean us! SuperM! haha...”

Mark scratched the back of his neck again out of nervousness. You and Mark continued to talk about various things bonding over Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mark getting jealous that you met Justin Bieber once. You noticed the party was dying down so you decided to ask Mark if he wanted to talk to you somewhere more private. He agreed as you secretly dragged him up into your room, hoping his members didn’t see you. 

Mark’s ears felt hot, he felt himself getting excited. He stood near your bed as you closed and locked your door. You pushed Mark down on your bed crawling on top of him. Mark’s eyes were wide in shock and excitement he was waiting in anticipation before you got off of him. Mark frowned sitting up about to stand but before he could protest you started to punish him. 

“Sit.” Mark obediently sat. 

“Good boy” You spoke as you pet his hair.

“Now, because of that little stunt of a tease you did earlier in the car, no touching unless I say got it?” You seductively whispered into his ear.

Mark nodded.

“Good.”

You slowly zipped down your dress as you slowly removed one sleeve from the other. You slid your dress down with your arms down to your ankles giving Mark a clear view of your ass as you bent down. You kicked the dress to the side as you walked to sit on Mark’s lap. You could already feel him getting hard, 

“Aww, is my baby excited?”

“Y-yes.” Mark was about to wrap his arms around you but you stopped them. 

“Nuh-uh, no touching baby.”

Mark pouted.

“Good boys get rewards, are you a good boy?”

“Y-y-yes..”

“Yes who?”

“Yes...miss, y/n.”

You slapped Mark’s cheek. 

“That’s mommy to you. Again.”

“Y-yes, m-mommy.”

“Good, you’re learning. You should be rewarded.”

You shove Mark down onto his back kissing him, tasting soju and watermelon off his lips. Mark was following your rhythm, kissing you back full of passion and licking your tongue every now and then. You started to move down his neck, kissing and sucking on a soft spot. Quiet hissed and moans left Mark’s mouth as you slowly kept kissing down towards his shirt. You ripped open his shirt breaking off a few buttons. You removed his shirt and suit jacket and threw it across the room. 

“My baby is a little toned now isn’t he?”

Mark has a defined six pack which only turned you on more. You kissed down his chest while trailing your fingers down tracing his abs. You pulled down his suit pants tossing them to the side, leaving Mark in his black boxers. You could see his member outlined hardened inside. You palmed his member and Mark’s face shot up to look at you and met your eyes and let out a soft moan from his lips. You pulled down his boxers and saw his member hard, leaking with precum. 

“Baby I didn’t expect you do be so big. Mommy is so proud of you.”

“P-please...”

“Please who?”

“P-please m-mommy touch me.”

“As you wish baby.”

You played with is member pulling it up to watch it fall back and smack against his stomach. You reached into your side drawer and pulled out some lube, pouring some on top of his member before rubbing your hands against it. You could hear Mark cursing with his moans. You went faster and slower, picking up the pace to watch Mark go out of control with higher pitched moans. When Mark was about to climax you pulled your hand away and Mark whined. 

“This is what you get for teasing me in the car.”

“I-I’m sor-rry mommy! Just please!”

“Please what?”

“P-p-please let me cum!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“P-please let me cum mommy!”

As Mark spoke you picked up the pace immediately eventually sucking onto the tip of his member for added stimulation, it didn’t take long for Mark to climax into your mouth, which was a mouthful. You swallowed it and licked the rest off of his member. 

“Baby, you taste amazing.”

Mark was breathless, sweating, and seeing stars. He felt like he just did the hardest workout of his life. You climbed back on top of Mark to kiss him. 

“But...m-mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you feel good too?”

“But it’s your birthday baby.”

“And I want to make you feel good, please. Let me make you feel good mommy~” 

The way Mark said mommy turned you on so much you wanted to go for a second round. He really knew how to rile you up. Plus, he looked adorable begging, so you gave him a free pass. 

“Alright, since it’s your birthday, you can make mommy feel good, show mommy what you’re made of baby. You are granted permission to touch me however you like baby.”

Mark immediately flipped you over and had you against your headboard with your pillows. He started to kissed you passionately while rubbing you all over your body. He would constantly ask if he was doing good and you would agree and tell him to keep going. Mark tried to remove your bra smoothly but was having some trouble. You kissed him and reassured him it was alright and removed the bra yourself. Mark kissed down your body and pulled down your underwear and he slowly pulled away your legs before licking against your wet cunt. 

“Mommy, you’re so wet...”

“All for you baby, keep going...”

Mark was surprisingly doing well making you feel really good, you were muffling your moans into your pillows before Mark finds your sweet spot which makes you jolt up to push his head down further with his hair. You were a moaning mess, Mark licked and sucked hard down on all the right places causing you to climax, almost crushing Mark’s face between your thighs. Mark smirked before kissing you, now tasting your sweet cunt in his mouth. 

“Can I put it in mommy?”

“Y-yes, please, put it in!”

Mark slowly entered you as you moaned out loud, Mark grabbed your face to look at him, he wanted to see your face. He slowly thrusted into you which felt painful at first but began to feel immense pleasure. Mark was also moaning harmoniously with you, kissing your forehead every couple of thrusts. 

“I-I’m close!”

“Me too!”

“Fuck!”

You both kissed each other as you both climaxed. Mark removed himself from you as he cuddled you into bed under your plush sheets.

“Happy birthday baby.”

#NCT #nct smut #nct angst #nct mark #nct mark scenario #nct mark smut #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct mark lee #nct fluff #nct!mark #nct!rich #nct!idol #nct x reader #nct mark imagines #nct mark imagine #nct mark birthday #nct scenario #nct oneshot #nct smut scenarios #nct smut imagines #nct u #nct dream #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct mark scenarios #SUPERM #superm imagines #superm mark #nct mark fluff

[highpope]

pieced together pt. one

posting here too because not that many people have seen it also sorry for the weird spacing idk what’s going on

JJ Maybank x pogue reader - season 2 fic

spoiler warning!

You laid in bed watching the rain hit your windows, the radio downstairs faintly describes the fate of the world. You can’t make out complete sentences without straining, but you have heard enough from the last few days to know there were no updates about John B and Sarah. The radio has been on for days on end, your parents not wanting to miss any possible update about your friends or the storm that seemed never-ending. It was like it rained for years. It was a constant reminder of the night your two best friends were driven out into the storm and everything changed. You could hear Shoupe’s words in the back of your mind, “we lost ‘em' ' on a constant loop. You could see Kiara’s face and JJ’s hands and Pope’s heart shatter. Like all the stars had come falling down and you were the only one left to pick up all the pieces. You prayed this was all a nightmare. You could wake up and not only would they both be here, but you’d all be safe. You would give up the gold a hundred times over if it meant John B and Sarah would be home.

Both Pope and Kie’s parents had called your mom every night since that day. When she thought you were asleep, she would creep down the stairs and sit in the kitchen and cry, praying they had some good news. Something that could take away some of the pain you were in. But she couldn’t, no one could. You had to hear half the town talk about John B like he was a murderer like he kidnapped Sarah like he was some delusional kid from the cut. All while you knew the Cameron’s were roaming free and receiving sympathy for what they’re going through. It made you sick to think about. They had a private funeral for Sarah. People gave their condolences and spoke so kindly about her. They scoffed at her recent behavior and her newfound friendship from “those dirty pogues.”

Sometime around day two, your mom came into your room asking if you had heard from JJ. He had been with the Heyward’s up until that morning when he’d completely disappeared.

For a second, you felt something other than grief, knowing he had been with Pope and not his dad, but that was short-lived. You tried to imagine how peaceful it would have been under different circumstances, a world in which he was always safe. One where Luke Maybank had no control over his life. You wanted to get lost in that daydream, live in that alternative reality for a while. He wouldn’t have to keep a duffel bag full of clothes and cash under your bed for when things got bad. He wouldn’t have to know how to do stitches on himself or how to pop a dislocated shoulder back in place. He’d be safe. He’d be happy. She asked again if you had heard from JJ, snapping you back to reality. (you had not). You watched as her forehead creased and her lips straightened into a thin line, like something in her had broken too.

She hurts just as much as you do. At first, you contributed that to her not being able to take away your pain, which is part of it. But you later realized she’s lost a person, too. You had known John B since grade school, there were pictures of the group of you sitting on your swing set in your backyard at age nine. Ones of you, JJ, John B, and Pope asleep in your living room after attempting to build a fort. He stayed for dinners and birthday parties. She watched us grow up, every first day of school, soccer game, fishing tournament. Our families had somehow combined over the years. Not only does your mom hurt for you, but she lost a child. And that weight is heavier than anything.

You stopped crying by day three. Nothing left. You were completely and utterly numb but consumed by loss all at the same time. You hadn’t initially worried about JJ. He did this. He disappeared for a little, to clear his head, but he always came back. He never stayed away for more than three days. That’s how long it took for him to feel balanced again, maybe less, but never more. He said it was because he couldn’t get a burger as good as the ones at The Wreck anywhere else in the world, but you knew how much he loved the outer banks and the people there. You also knew that he’d never leave without you. And if he absolutely had to, he would at least say goodbye. He had to, he promised. You held on to that every time his phone went straight to voicemail. And when days four and five came and went and you still haven’t heard from him, you were worried. He should’ve crawled through your window in yesterday’s clothes with a few more scratches on his arm than he left with, but his eyes would glow a little brighter and he would still smile when you insisted he spends the night. So, when you cracked your window open and slept with your bedside lamp on (so that he could see the light from outside) and he still wasn’t there when you awoke, your mourning turned into something else. You sent a few texts, in case he somehow got them, but you were doubtful.

You didn’t know what it was like to live without him. There wasn’t a time in your life you could remember when you and JJ weren’t attached at the hip. Sometime around kindergarten, you two became inseparable, ultimately meeting John B and Pope as you got older and Kie when you all got to junior high. There was a weird couple of months around third grade where he decided girls had cooties, but it was short-lived because when JJ realized that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore he thought it was dumb and started coming over again. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when your relationship changed, the lines between friendship and something more merging and becoming blurred. If you had to, for you it was the start of sophomore year. Something changed when you were together, even just sitting in silence was comfortable and exciting. Eyes started lingering, touches became more frequent, and then one day you were just together. It’s been the same since. You think back to the first time you kissed like a couple. It definitely hadn’t been the first time the two of you had ever kissed. You were sure there had been at least one during your childhood and you vividly remember a New Year’s Eve party and a couple of games of truth or dare. But this time it was different. There was something behind it.

You and JJ sat side by side in the hammock outside of John B’s. He was smoking while using his one leg to rock the two of you slowly back and forth. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and pay attention to whatever story was being told. JJ must have noticed because he wrapped an arm around you, inviting you to lay on his chest.

This wasn’t uncommon between you. JJ was always physically affectionate toward the people he cared about and you had no problem reciprocating. You stayed just like that until it was just the two of you left outside.

JJ shifted slightly under your weight causing you to wake up. “Shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, tossing the tip of the blunt into the fire.

You nodded, “mhm.” You looked around, realizing how dark it had gotten, “You could’ve woken me up! It’s late.”

“You looked peaceful.”

You pretended to clutch your heart, “JJ Maybank being nice? Dare I say sweet?”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. He was smiling at you like you were the funniest person in the world.

“ No, no. You care about me,” you joked, poking his chest with your finger, “you loooove me.”

“ Yeah?” he challenged, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, your breath suddenly catching in your throat.

“What if I do?” He asked, but it wasn’t a question. His face was serious, a glimmer of hope in his crystal eyes.

You look slightly from his eyes to his lips. If JJ noticed he didn’t lead on. He just slowly bridged the gap between you, your noses brushing for a moment before your lips connected. It was slow and careful, not wanting to push too far, but all the same, wanting to completely unravel the other. His hand cupped your cheek, his rings cold against your flushed face as you leaned into the kiss.

You heard faint screams and cheers from inside the chateau and Pope’s “Finally!” echo out. You could feel him smiling and soon enough you were both laughing. You had finally come together and nothing would take that away.

On day six, the rain stopped and the world carried on as normal. You wanted to yell at every person you saw. How could anyone feel so neutral about anything that happened in the last week? The sheriff was dead, there was a murderer on the loose, your two best friends were gone, and your boyfriend was missing. But yeah, go ahead and go to the grocery store like any other Wednesday morning. Someone tell the earth, it’s not supposed to keep spinning after the world ends.

You were lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling as you tried to fall asleep, a breeze flowed through your window and your lamp illuminated the room. All you could hear were cicadas and the wind rustling through the trees until you heard your window creak and slide open. You tried to process everything all at once, your eyes scanning over every part of his body, trying to meet his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the last time you saw him. There was dirt under his fingernails and his face was puffy from crying. His lip was cracked and covered in dry blood and bruises littered his jaw and hands. You could cry at the mere sight of him. Before either of you could speak, you collided.

You held his head to your chest and placed kisses on his hairline. You tried to wipe your tears before he could see them, but it was no use. The two of you were a tangle of arms and legs, of broken hearts and misguided minds, so desperately trying to tell the other it was going to be okay without believing it yourself.

“I miss him so much,” he sobbed. Your heart fell to your stomach and everything you had pushed down the past few days came rushing back.

“Me too,” you breathed. JJ’s arms wrapped around your stomach and he buried his head into your neck. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, thinking that if you held on long enough the two of you wouldn’t fall apart.

You heard your door open slightly and you quickly turned your head to see your mom stood there, tears brimming her eyes. You can visibly see her shoulders relax as she lets out a sigh. Your door closes softly as if not to disturb you both. You hear her on the other side of the door, “he’s here. He’s okay.”

“My dad’s gone,” he murmured into your neck.

You can physically feel your heart break for the boy in your arms and the younger version of him, trying to find a space he belongs and mourning the only one he ever found. You want so badly to hold him together, paint all of his scars golden. To remind him how much people love him, how much you love him, but no words come out.

“Guess he finally picked up and left, son of a bitch” His voice wobbled, “I went back, uh, that night to find the necklace John B gave me.”

He pulled away so he could talk directly to you. You cupped his cheeks and swiped the tears with your thumbs before they could fall. He laughed dryly, remembering, “Climbed through my bedroom window and everything. It should’ve taken two minutes tops but it wasn’t on my dresser like I thought it was. I tore my room apart looking for it. And then my dad came home and heard me, uh he was not happy to see me, as you can imagine.”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, moving farther away from him to make sure he wasn’t bleeding or worse.

He grabs your hands and brings them to his chest, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Is that where you were? The past few days,”

He nods, “yeah. I woke up the next day and he was gone. I was just going to get my stuff and go, but I don't know. Something wasn’t right.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, “They all really do leave, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” you urge.

“I’m just-”

“No. Do not think like that. None of this is your fault. Your dad is a fucking awful person for not loving you like you need to be loved. Like you deserve to be loved. And John B-” your voice cracks, “John B would never leave us if he didn’t have to and, and you have me. I couldn’t ever leave you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself

He kisses your knuckles, “I know, I know. He just has so much power over the way I think.”

“But you know. You know you are nothing like him.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes.

“These past few days, J. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

“Never.” He pushes his lips to yours, urgent and longing. You move your hands to his head, bringing him closer, trying to pour yourself into him.

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #rudy pankow #pope heyward #jonathan daviss #john b routledge #chase stokes #kiara carerra #madison bailey #sarah cameron #madelyn cline #obx fics #outer banks spoilers #obx s 2 #jj x reader #jj obx #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader

[sergeantsporks]

Adoption Papers

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Part 2 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

Camila officially adopts Hunter and Vee

Might be a little hard to explain where they came from, though.

Direct Sequel to “Another Shot at Life”

Ao3

“What’s a social security?”

“What do you mean an ID?”

“Why do we have to do a bunch of paperwork to live here? Luz just lived in Eda’s house for months!”

Camila pinched the bridge of her nose. “Things work differently here than in the Boiling Isles. And if the two of you don’t want me to get arrested for kidnapping, we have to fill out paperwork, and I have to officially adopt you.”

Vee sniffed the papers. “But I’ve already been living here!”

“Yeah, pretending to be me,” Luz reminded her, “Gonna be a liiiiiitle hard to explain why there’s two of us.”

Hunter squinted at the documents. “I used to do paperwork for the coven. But I have no idea what any of this says.” It was all a lot of technical stuff—with a lot of words he didn’t know the meaning of.

Camila sighed. “I’ve filled out most of it, but… we’re going to need to explain where the two of you came from. And ‘wandered in from another dimension’ isn’t something I think we can tell people.”

Luz bounced up. “Ooo! I’ve got it!” She waved a hand. “Vee is my twin sister, separated at birth!”

“Luz, sweetie, the hospital records will say otherwise.”

“Okay, okay, how abooooout… we say that Vee was a home birth, maybe a year younger than me, but Dad took her away with him when he left, and we assumed he’d do all of the registry, but apparently he didn’t? What are they going to do, track him down and ask him? They haven’t managed that yet. We can say that Vee ran away and came home to us.”

“That might work. What about Hunter?”

Luz grinned at him. “We found him living feral in the woods, he was raised by a pack of wolves.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her.

“Yeaaah… I don’t think that one’s gonna fly.”

“How about we tell them the truth?” Vee asked, “We say he ran away from a bad situation, and we’ve been taking care of him.”

“What if they start investigating? They’ll ask him questions, definitely, and if they try to figure out who his family is-!”

Luz jumped up and down. “Oooooo, tell them your horrible family chased you, and tried to push you off of a cliff, but they slipped and fell off and died!”

Hunter felt sick. “Pass.”

“Let’s stick to something simple. You and your… uncle… traveled, didn’t have a home, and you slipped away one day. You were camping out in the old abandoned house to hide, Vee found you there and brought you home, and you’ve been living with us ever since.”

“What if they try to figure out who his family is?” Vee asked, “I mean, uncle sounds a lot like he might have just kidnapped him.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’ll tell them my whole family was already dead. Freak boating accident, bodies never found. They were recluses, no one noticed they were missing. I’ll say uhhhhhhhh, I don’t remember their names, because I was a kid, and my uncle never told me our last name.”

Luz squinted at him. “What is your last name?”

“No idea.”

Camila sighed. “This is getting complicated. What if they start trying to figure out where your family lived?”

“Mexico,” Luz said immediately, “But Hunter was born over the border.”

“Does he look Mexican to you?”

“Okay, fine, Canada, whatever!”

“Let’s just… keep it simple, okay, Luz? Hunter, what do you think? This is your story, you have to be able to tell it.”

His story. Okay, who did he want to be? “I think… I think Vee’s idea is good,” he said slowly, “Ran away—I’ll just say he was my uncle. And we were homeless, so there’s nowhere they could track him down to. Even if they DO start looking for my birth family, it’s not like they can actually pull anything up, because I’m not from here. Okay. So, I ran away, made my way to Gravesfield, camped out in the abandoned house for a bit, then Vee found me, uhhhhh…”

“A week ago,” Vee offered.

“Okay, yeah, a week ago.”

“And if they ask for details about your uncle?”

“I’ll just talk about Belos. It’s not like they can find him.”

Camila nodded. “Okay! The closest adoption agency is out of town, but I already scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. First hurdle, guys!”

“First?” Hunter echoed.

“Oh, yeah, we have to get the two of you enrolled in school—”

“School?!”

Luz laughed. “Ohhhhhhh, you’re gonna hate it, Mr. Prodigy.”

“I don’t need school!”

“Yeah? Do you know how to do algebra? How about chemistry? Physics?”

“No?” Hunter looked to Luz. “Those are fake, right?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, they’re all very real.”

“I don’t need those.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Camila interrupted, “For now, let’s just… focus on the adoption, okay?”

She looked… nervous. Which made Hunter nervous.

“What… what happens if they don’t believe me?”

Camila rubbed the back of her head. “I… I don’t know, mijo. If they dig deeper, I… but it will be fine.”

Still, Hunter didn’t sleep that night, his mind running through every possible way that this could go wrong. The next morning, when they loaded up in the car, he could see dark circles under Camila’s eyes, too. It did not make him feel better.

Hunter tossed his palisman gently out the window before they set off, the bird fluttering around his head. “You can’t come with us. Stay here and protect the house, okay?”

The bird chirped in affirmation, flapping back to sit on the roof.

Vee fell back asleep, leaning against him, and he resisted the urge to shake her awake and demand to know how she could possibly not be worried about this.

Hunter hadn’t ever gone outside of Gravesfield, and it was hitting him just now how… huge… the human realm was. He watched countryside flash by outside the car window, and even still, they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

And then buildings loomed in front of him, huge and imposing. Hunter pressed his face against the window. “Is this the capital of the human realm?”

“Ha. No. We’re not even in the capital of Connecticut.”

“Seriously?!”

Hunter watched the streets go by. This world was enormous, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

They had the key on this side, and since he was here, Belos was down one coven head—hypothetically, his uncle couldn’t complete his day of unity plans. But if he did, or if he managed to get back through, somehow…

Hunter was almost confident that this world was big enough for him to hide in.

They pulled up to an office building, and Camila took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Come on, kids.”

They all followed behind her into the building, and Camila approached the desk. “Hiiii. I’m Camila Noceda, I have an appointment about a couple of adoptions?”

The desk attendant glanced behind her at the three of them. “Down the hall, first door on the right. Right on time.”

Camila gave the attendant a nod. Hunter and Vee both crowded close to her as they filed into the office. “Hello?”

The woman at the desk looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, a thermos on a table covered in papers. “Hey. Paperwork.”

Camila tentatively handed her the packet, and she disappeared into a back room, coming back out after about ten minutes.

“So, neither of these kids is in the system?”

Camila shook her head. “Neither.”

The woman squinted at Vee. “Certainly looks like your other daughter. Why didn’t you report her father taking her?”

“We… we were separating. We thought he’d already filed everything.”

A grunt. “Alright. You. Other one. Hunter. C’mere.”

Hunter looked to Camila, and she gave him a little nod. He followed the woman into the other room, where she read over his form again. “Tell me about your uncle.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to see if we can find him.”

Hunter’s blood chilled. “I’m not going back!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We need to find him because we just don’t know enough about you—not even your last name. So we need your uncle for more information.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Uh-huh. Let us try, at least. Physical description?”

Hunter sighed. “Tall. Blond but greying, long hair, blue eyes. Old.” Face creeping with slime, occasionally turns into a puddle of goop, can’t miss him.

“His name?”

“Belos.”

“There’s one you don’t hear every day. Last name?”

“Dunno.”

“Right. Of course not. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

The woman sighed. “You’ve got to work with me, here.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole adoption will go a lot more smoothly. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Fine. How long ago did you see him?”

Hunter struggled to remember. Kind of hard to tell when he didn’t know how much time he’d lost falling down into a cursed prison of darkness.

But according to Luz, that had only been for a couple of hours, even if it had felt like forever.

“Two weeks,” he said softly.

Two weeks since he’d been rescued. Two weeks since the worst time of his life.

“And you… ran away?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you explain why?”

Hunter shuddered. “Because I was miserable.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t take you away from your uncle if he wasn’t a bad parent, Hunter. If we don’t have any indication he did anything wrong, then he can reclaim you any time he likes, and we are obligated to try to find him and return you to him. I understand that it may be painful to talk about it, but we cannot proceed without information about your past life.”

“Fine,” Hunter snapped, “He hurt me, and he locked me up, and he made me run errands for him and would punish me if I failed, happy?”

A slight pause. “What kind of errands?”

Hunting down palisman so he could drain them of their magic. “Uh… picking up medicine for him.”

“Medicine? What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just picked it up. I didn’t ask questions, it wasn’t encouraged.”

“But you ran away, ended up in Gravesfield, where Camila found you a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Wait outside, send Camila in.”

Hunter shuffled out. “She wants you.”

Camila nodded, disappearing into the other room, closing the door behind her. Vee nudged him. “Are you okay?”

“She was asking about Belos.”

“I’m sorry,” Luz said softly.

Hunter paced back and forth. “What do you think they’re talking about?” He crept closer to the door, pressing his ear to the door.

“Hunter,” Vee hissed, “Get away from there, it’s rude!”

“I want to know what they’re saying,” he hissed back, “Shhhh!”

He pressed his ear to the door again. The voices were faint, but he could make out what they were saying.

“Obviously, if Vee is your biological daughter, there isn’t any reason for us to keep her from you. I don’t think there will be any difficulty with the transition. But Hunter… Ms. Noceda, you may be rushing into more than you can handle.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know him well. We don’t know where he came from, or what he’s done.”

“What he’s done?”

“He’s a liar, ma’am, you wrote that he was homeless, but he claimed his uncle would lock him up. Those two aren’t exactly compatible. He very obviously isn’t telling us everything—and I suspect he may have been part of a drug delivery system without knowledge. If I can believe him that he didn’t know what his uncle’s ‘medicine’ was.”

“Okay, well, let’s just say that I am really, really, really determined to adopt him anyway.”

“I’m really advising you not to. Let us get him into the system, foster him out, see how he does before you go all in on adopting him. He might not even be separated from his uncle—they might be planning to rob or hurt you and your family.”

“Hunter,” Camila thundered, “is not going to hurt us. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to foster him out.”

Hunter pulled back from the door, feeling sick. “Luz, what’s fostering?”

Her face paled. “It’s… it’s when they sort of send you out to different families to take care of you.”

“I don’t want to go to a different family!”

“You won’t,” Luz soothed, “Mom won’t let them take you away. And you can just run away if they do.”

Hunter started to pace, his chest getting tight. “I can’t start running away here, too! That’ll just make all of the adoption stuff harder, right?”

Vee grabbed his hand. “Hunter. Look at me.”

He did, the fingers of his free hand tapping restlessly on the side of his leg.

Vee gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she said firmly, “We aren’t going to leave you behind. Promise.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good. Now sit down, and just think about other stuff. Like school.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“I’ll teach you algebra,” Vee promised, “They had a whole course on it at summer camp—it’s not so bad. And I’ll introduce you to my friends, too. You’ll be a couple grades older than us, but that’s okay.”

Luz bounced up. “Speaking of school, Hunter, is there any chance I can borrow Red? I know we’re worried about using the portal, but Eda and Amity and King and Gus and Willow will all be so worried about me!”

“Use your little…” Hunter clicked his fingers in the air. “Your little yellow thing.”

“My—you think that will work between dimensions?”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot. Might as well try before we open the portal and risk Belos getting in.” Hunter tapped his fingers against the chair. “If there’s natural titan’s blood veins in the Boiling Isles, then there’s a place here where it connects, right?”

“Right. That’s how Phillip—he wrote the diary I was using to figure out my portal—got into the demon realm in the first place.”

“So we might not need the key portal if we can find a place on this side where the worlds intersect.��� Hunter’s stomach roiled. “Except that if we can do that, that means Belos has another way to get blood.”

“If I can just get in contact with Eda, she might be able to figure out my portal and then we don’t have to—”

The door to the other room burst open. Camila grinned, her hands behind her back. “Okay, Vee, Hunter, close your eyes, and hold out your hands!”

Vee did what she said, and Hunter followed suit, a little more hesitantly. Something paper settled in his hand. “Okay, open your eyes now.”

Hunter blinked at the paper in his hand.

Hunter Noceda.

Vee bounced up and down. “We did it!”

“They’re still finalizing everything—social security, birth certificates, all of that will take a bit more time. But you two are legally part of the family and under my care, now!”

Hunter Noceda.

The words felt… odd, in his head. But a good kind of odd.

Luz slung her arms around Vee and Hunter’s necks. “Whoo! Two new siblings! I didn’t use to have… well, any! I mean, I had you, but legally!” She shook Hunter slightly. “See? Nothing to worry about, I told you Mom could handle it!”

“Hunter Noceda.” He had a last name, now. A family name. “Vee Noceda.” It felt more natural to say her name—but then, she’d already seemed to be part of the family.

Luz cackled with glee. “Aha! You know what that means? Now the two of you have to wear ugly sweaters for family Christmas card pictures!”

“Ugly sweaters?” Vee questioned

“Christ-mas?” Hunter echoed.

“Ehehehe. Welcome to the Noceda family. You two have a lot of family tradition to catch up on.”

#wow this series is going to be so self-indulgent #toh #the owl house #toh hunter #camila noceda #lil rascal #luz noceda #vee noceda #toh fanfiction #my writing

[xreaderbooks]

Hidden (1)

Pair: Draco Malfoy x reader, Harry Potter x sister! reader, Platonic! Cedric Diggory x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: curse/swear words, fluff, soft Draco 

Summary: You and Draco have been in a secret relationship for 2 years already and he wants to go public but you don’t think that your brother is ready. 

Masterlist - part 2

If he were to ever find out; you would be dead. Or maybe he'd be supportive. It's always important to remain optimistic in situations like this, But then again how many people can say they are put in the position where they fall in love with their brother's enemy. Knowing Harry he'd probably be understanding, maybe, who were you kidding the rivalry between Harry and your boyfriend have been going on for years now and Harry would only ever see Draco for his past mistakes and... the more recent ones. The only reason he continues to bother your brother anymore is to keep up the charade of hating him. In reality he actually doesn't mind Harry anymore, at least that's what he tells you. In the end it'll all be worth it.

You were nervously wringing your hands as you were walking towards the room of requirements to meet your secret lover. You wanted Draco to ask you to be his date to the yule ball and publicly announce yourselves as a couple, you was tired of sneaking around and pretending to fake fight in front of your brother and your friends. You wanted to hold his hand as you walked through the halls and have him walk you to classes and sit next to you in the ones you did have together. You wanted him to kiss you good morning when you see each other in the great hall for breakfast and kiss you good night when you go to your respective dorms or houses. It was exhausting having to come up with excuses to see each other and hard trying to come with reasons to argue in front of people when all you wanted to say was that you loved him and thought he was perfect.

In the moments where girls would come up to him and shamelessly flirt with him because, for all they knew, he was single, You just wanted to come up to him right in front of the other girl and show that he was yours, and you were his. Unfortunately, Draco just had to go and mess things up without knowing the trouble it'd bring for your relationship. Not that you knew you would fall for each other.

Now you were trying to find a way of asking Draco to the Yule ball. For a year and a couple of months already you've been hinting at exposing yourselves and let everyone know you're a couple. However, every time you tried to make an actual conversation of it Draco would deflect and change the conversation or would shut down the idea completely. You knew it was scary and Harry's opinion mattered to you, way more than she'd care to admit but she loved Draco and wanted everyone to know it.

The room of requirements appeared itself to you; your reoccurring meeting spot. The anxiety of rejection making your palms sweat a little.

"Hello, My love." He leaned down to kiss you. "How were your lessons?"

"Boring as usual, I zoned out in Mcgonagalls class and of course she noticed and called me out." You huffed plopping down on the sofa that always appeared in the room. The room of requirements always showed up as a living area with a fireplace and couches with an assortment of fruits, snacks, and drinks. Sometimes even a bed for other times... "I had no clue what she was asking I guessed but I still got the question wrong. It was so embarrassing."

You let out a sigh. "Anyways how were yours?"

"The same as every other day, I missed you." He sat down next to you, pulling you closer to him so that you sat between his legs as he played with your hands. Your heartbeat sped up at his touch also knowing you had to bring up the yule ball. You inhaled and decided it was now or never. "Draco, How would you feel if we went to the Yule ball together?"

He got up, loosening his tie a little. You got up from the couch knowing where this was going.

"Y/N I don't think it's such a good idea." Your cheeks began to heat up with anger. You've been together for almost two years now and he wanted to reject You? Your mind was racing with all the bullshit excuses he would use, all the excuses he would bring up you were ready to rebuttle. Now your insecurities began to creep up. What if there was someone else? What if he was embarrassed by you?

"And why not?" Your voice raised a tiny bit, you tried to keep it in check to not start a screaming match.

"It's not safe for you, My father-"

"Screw your father Draco, When are you going to stand up to him?" She rolled her eyes.

"He hates your brother and if he finds out we're together who knows what he'll do to you."

"My safety is the least of my worries. Besides I'm not scared of your father."

"Your safety is my top priority Y/N, don't you understand?" He steps closer, grabbing your face in his hands.

You remove his hands and shake your head. "I don't believe that."

"You don't believe that I care for you, after all this time." His head tilts to the side, a look of hurt flashed before his face.

"No I do, I just dont believe my safety is your top priority, you're afraid of your father and what he'll do to you as well."

"You don't know what he's capable of."

"I have an idea but I don't care."

"Aren't you afraid of what Harry and your friends would say?"

"Yes and No, They'll have their opinions but nothing they say will change how much I love you." You raise your head to seem taller somehow.

He paced around the couch. "Just give me a couple more months to introduce the idea to my family."

"I've been bringing this up for months Draco and the yule ball is the perfect way to do it."

"I know we have it but just give me a little more time." He begged

"A little more time? really?" You laugh bitterly. "I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I love you, you know that, but I want to be able to tell the world how much I love you because I can't handle seeing another person flirting with you because they dont know that your mine or other guys approaching me when I'm not the slightest bit interested." You gently grab his face pulling him closer. "It's just not enough for me. I'm tired of this."

"I love you too but I can't."

You took your hands off of his face and stepped back. "I'm done."

"What would happen if your brother knew, you think he would just step back and let us be happy?" He shouted as you began to leave. Tears were forming in your eyes. "Or your friends, they'll try to separate us and you know it!"

"Don't you dare pretend you know anything about them! I already told you I don't care if they don't approve." You turn back to argue. "You're not even afraid of my friends, you're afraid of what your little pureblood buddies will say."

He stayed silent, you could tell he was trying to bite back his tears. "You're a coward, We obviously didn't think this through in the beginning." You look down refusing to show that you were about to cry.

"I-" You interrupted. "No Malfoy, I think I know what you want, its all clear now." You back away from him. "These past few years were amazing but I can't keep us a secret anymore. I think we need time to ourselves."

You walked out of the room of requirements with warm tears streaming down your face, but he wasn't going to let you go that easily. He ran after you shouting out your name in attempt to catch your attention but you didn't turn back.

Draco noticed Harry has approached you, engulfing you in a hug. "Y/N what happened?" Harry met Draco's eyes. "What did Malfoy do to you?"

"Nothing." You tried to force Harrys attention elsewhere. "I was just being emotional, you know? and I kind of just broke down in the wrong place."

"C'mon lemme walk you to your dorm."

~~~

It was breakfast time a couple days before the Yule ball. Since the argument with Draco, Y/N has been attempting to lift up her own spirits. Trying to convince herself that she was an independent person, she didn't need him. Besides, he seemed to be getting along fine without her now.

In Draco's mind however he was anxious to be with her again. He was sure she was going to get over it and come back to him in no time. This was an ongoing argument between them anyways and her and Draco always came to an understanding.

At least that was his thought process before he overheard a group of girls gossiping about Cedric Diggory. They were talking about a girl who they thought the popular Hufflepuff would ask the upcoming ball. Normally he'd be uninterested but Y/N's name was brought up to conversation. They were rating if they'd be a good pair and if she was even good enough for Cedric, as if they had any right to. Dracos mind became wrapped in jealousy.  'Prick' he thought. He never had any bad blood with Diggory til now when he suddenly showed an interest in Y/N. He couldn't stand the idea. He also thought that if he were to show up with a date you'd also be infuriated and come crawling back to him. And he knew just the person to ask.

~~~

Later when everyone was in Snapes class writing down notes, Hermione next to Ron who was next to Harry. You were across from Hermione. Ron was complaining about not having a date to the ball. "This is mad, at this rate we'll be the only ones in our year without dates." He said, while Snape was walking by and he snapped Rons head to his notebook.

He continues and leans towards Harry and breathes out a laugh as he says "Well, us and neville."

"Then again he can take himself." Harry laughs along.

You and Hermione share a look. You rolled your eyes and continues to do your work as Hermione tells them that Neville already has a date.

"Oh now I'm really depressed." Ron whines.

On the other side of the table Fred sends a note to Ron telling him to find a date before all the good ones are gone. Whatever that's supposed to mean.

"Who are you going with then?" Ron whispers to his brother. In response Fred chucks a paper ball at Angelina Johnson. Who looks annoyed when she looks back at him.

"Angelina-" Fred mouths while pretending to dance. "Will you go to the ball with me?" She agrees and Fred winks back at Ron.

Ron then leans towards Hermione starting off the conversation with "Why Hermione, You're a girl." 'Honestly Ron' you thought 'This boy couldn't be any more stupid.'

"Oh well spotted" she retorts. Harry taps Ron on his arm to warn him that snapes coming their way but its too late. Snape slaps Ron on his head with a book as well as harry and walks off, reading someone's notebook.

"C'mon it's one thing for a bloke to go alone, for a girl it's just sad." Ron makes a 'sympathetic' face at her.

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not someones asked me." She slams her book closed, hands it to Snape, walks back to respond with "And I said yes" she whisper shouts as she leaves.

"God Ron, you're such an idiot." You say.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"You could've said it in a better way, is all I'm trying to say." she puts her hands up in surrender.

"Well, what about you (y/n)?" He says suggestively. "Any eligible bachelors worthy enough?"

"No but I'm definitely not going with you."

"Why not?"

"Because she's my sister" Harry gives him a face as if it was obvious.

"Exactly it'll be embarrassing if I go with you-" You notice how he looked down. "It's not you, well, it is." You couldn't find the right words without making him feel worse. "It's just that if I go with you, it'll seem like I couldn't get a date of my own so I had to go with my brother's best friend type of thing."

"You understand don't you?"

"Yeah whatever" He responds and changes the subject.

~~~

The same topic is brought up again later that evening when you hung out with Harry in the Gryffindor common room. Nobody would shut up about it so you left. You were reading a book, trying to study for a defense against the dark arts test and you did not wanna get on Moodys bad side so you didn't see when you bumped into someone.

"Oops sorry, wasn't looking where I was going." You wanted to finish your last sentence before you looked up and saw that it was one of the champions. Cedric Diggory. You also recognized him from the quidditch world cup/port-key incident that happened before school. You didn't formally meet.

"No worries." He smiled. "You're Harry's sister, right?"

"I'm (y/n)." You put your hand out for him to shake. He shook her hand, "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself, I'm Cedric Diggory."

You chuckled and nodded your head. "I know."

He tilted his head then realized he was practically famous around Hogwarts now. "Right." He smiled again.

"Excuse me, Ive got to go, it's almost curfew and I definitely don't want to get caught out."

"Don't worry about it, I'm a prefect. I could walk you to your house if you'd like?"

"Sure" You accepted his offer, not being foolish enough to walk around without the proper authority to get you out of trouble.

~~~

After that night with Cedric, You had spent more and more time with him. It would always be a coincidence that you'd meet. In classes they never knew they had together, walking beside each other in a rush to get to any of their meals, etc. the only times you would both see each other on purpose was in the halls talking to your friends and going to say hi to one another or when you went to wish Cedric luck. You were friends, you thought it was a nice change hanging out freely with someone instead of sneaking around. And just hanging out with someone other than Draco in her free time in general. Not that you didn't still love him it was just nice.

What you didn't know was that the platinum haired slytherin saw every interaction. Every laugh, every smile, every that was innocent in the eyes of everyone else; was criminal in Dracos. He was pissed so as revenge he decided to make his "relationship" with Pansy more public in an attempt to make you jealous. His plan was futile since you weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to him. Or so he thought. You saw every interaction that he and Pansy had and tried to play it off cool, not let him see how much it affected you. He made his decision and you broke up with him, you can't claim him anymore.

The day before the Yule Ball came quick, you were walking around the lake and Cedric came running up behind you.

"(y/n)! Wait up!" He waved you down.

You turned around "Hey Ced" you smiled. "what's up?"

"So the balls tomorrow..." He suggested

"yes..." You urged him to continue, a slight smile was playing on your lips

"Would you- and I know this is an odd question to ask but I do think we've been getting closer..."

"Oh get on with it!" You yelled

"Would you like to go the ball with me?"

"Yes, Yes I would." You laughed, he let out a breath of relief and hugged you.

"Oh thank Merlin, I thought you were also going to reject me."

"No way somebody rejected you!"

"Remember that girl I told you about?" you nodded, "Cho said she already had somebody else."

"I'm sorry Ced" You rested your hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

"It's alright (y/n), now I get to go with somebody better." He playfully pushed you. "Hey! I just realized I was your second choice, you twat!" She joked and pushed back.

"I will never forgive you for this Diggory!" You said dramatically pretending to swoon. He played along, grabbing your hand, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how must I redeem myself."

"It cannot be done" You continued the act by pretending to ignore him.

"How about butterbeer on me?" You glanced at him. "Done."

"Cool, I'll meet you at the stairs by the great hall before the ball starts, remember the champions walk and all that."

"Alright."

~~~

You were nervous as you walked down the steps to the great hall to meet up with your date. It was a magical moment, he had his back to you. He hadn't noticed you were coming down until Parvarti Patil pointed you out. He turned around and grinned, reaching out a hand to help you from the steps.

"You look stunning." He complimented. A light blush spread on your cheeks as she thanked him.

You joined the other champions in a line with their dates. You saw Hermoine and Victor Krum together, in your mind you applauded Hermoine for scoring a date with the Durmstrang boy. During the ceremonial dance, the champions had to do with their dates you secretly tried to look for Draco through the crowd of students who were watching, but you couldn't find him. ' With Parkinson' you thought bitterly.

When people started to join in on the dancing with their partners you decided to excuse yourself to get a drink and hopefully cool the rage you felt when you thought of Draco and Pansy together. 'They were probably in a broom closet snogging' you internally rolled your eyes at that. Cedric came looking for you a little while after, asking if you were alright. "As good as I can be." You responded.

Cedrics brows furrowed. "What's wrong? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked panicked, "No, no you're great." You sighed. "You're practically perfect and I don't wanna make you think I didn't enjoy spending time with you or that you're a second choice..."

"But you'd rather spend your time with some other guy?"

"Not the way I would've worded it. But yes, there's this guy that I really like, we were dating for while actually and..." You sighed again. "Nobody knew,  I wanted to tell people and he didn't so we broke up."

"And now your here with me." Cedric gave her a small smile. "Hey, listen it happens I'm glad we're here together even if it's just as friends."

You felt your heart lift up, no longer weighed down with guilt for leading him on. He put his arm around you, you let your head rest on his chest.

~~~

The night was almost coming to end half of the students already went up to bed, the other half was still dancing the night away. You and Cedric included, you shouted and jumped and actually danced, enjoying this time. You forgot about Draco for a period of time, ignoring him as he danced with Pansy. That is until Cedric excused himself to go to the restroom. Draco came up to you with a determined look on his face.

"Ditching dates now?" You commented.

"I left her with Blaise, she'll be fine." He shrugged. "Where'd Diggory go?"

"Bathroom." You tried to be dry in conversation so that he'd leave you alone.

"You sure he didn't ditch you?" He replies with a smirk. You scoffed, "Like you care."

"Contrary to your belief I do actually care about you."

"Doesn't seem like it."

"I'm tired of this Y/N, I love you and this time away from you has made me realize how much I need you."

"Then prove it."

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #draco malfoy x potter! reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter x sister reader #Hermione Granger #ron wealsey #slytherin #slytherin x gryffindor #hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin x ravenclaw #imagines #golden trio #golden trio era #Luna Lovegood #cedric diggory imagines #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #dracotok #draco malfoy x y/n #hogwarts #triwizard tournament #yule ball

[jiaraforeverr]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Author's note: Hi everyone! This is my very first fanfic so I would love to hear your thoughts! @arcticaid requested this months ago, I'm so sorry it took so long! I started writing it in May, but honestly forgot about it until after I watched season 2.

You can also find it on Ao3 here!

Pairing: JJ Maybank/Kiara Carrera

Kiara lay awake in the spare bed of the Chateau, the heavy and humid air sticking to her skin and making her whole-body flush with warmth. She could blame her inability to sleep tonight on the typical end of summer North Carolina heat, but there was something else on her mind keeping her up. With all the windows propped open as wide as they would go, she could hear the creaking of the old hammock rocking slowly back and forth, keeping her mind from thinking of anything other than the person she knew was also pretending to be sleeping right now.

A couple hours earlier, Pope had said his final goodbye before getting on the ferry to the mainland, where he would be traveling to UNC Charlotte for his first semester of college. He was finally doing what he was meant to, to pursue the future that his friends have protected and encouraged the last few years. But now he was gone, not coming back to the island for at least a couple months.

And that left Kiara and JJ.

It had been almost two years since the gold summer. Two years since they had last seen John B or Sarah. The loss of their best friend had taken a toll on all of them, but especially JJ. John B had been his brother, the first person he really was able to call family, the first person he felt safe with. Losing him had sent JJ down a dark path filled with alcohol and drugs much stronger than weed. It had taken Kiara and Pope about three months to get him back on track, and luckily that included getting him out of his dad’s house and into the Heyward’s care.

The three of them held onto the Chateau though. No one ever came asking about it, and they never brought it up. Currently, JJ was saving up to officially own it so they would no longer have the constant fear of having the last part of their best friend ripped away from them.

With Pope leaving for college, Kiara was left with the impossible task of deciding what she should be doing now. Much to her parent’s dismay, she had already that college wasn’t what she wanted- at least not right now. She can see herself going in the future, maybe getting a degree in marine biology and opening a conservation center of her own. But that was for later. Now, she knew there were still things she had to do.

Giving up the fight with herself to fall asleep, Kiara sits up in bed, sighing deeply as she presses her hands to her eyes. She could help but think about JJ. She was terrified of what leaving him alone would look like. She couldn’t risk losing another friend. A part of her knew that deep down, she just really didn’t want to leave his side at all.

Things with JJ had always been different than it had been with Pope or John B, but even more so after John B’s disappearance. They had a bond stronger than ever before, and Kiara was unsure how to deal with the feelings that had come along with it. She thinks that they’ve probably always been there in the back of her mind. Every flirty comment or wink JJ had given her growing up had always been accompanied by a small tug in her stomach that she now has a sneaking suspicion wasn’t due to annoyance.

Walking through the empty, quiet house, she took no precautions to avoid the loud floorboards like she normally would, and with an ache in her heart realized it was because no one else was here. As she got closer to the back door, quiet music filled the air, confirming that JJ was most definitely not asleep.

She silently made her way towards the hammock where JJ lay with both eyes closed, but he still opened one eye knowingly as she stopped next to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” JJ murmurs softly.

“No, I just willingly woke up in the middle of the night for fun,” she responds sarcastically, but with no real bite to it.

“Hmm,” JJ closes his eyes again, “I can’t imagine hating myself that much. What a horrible life you lead.”

“What about you, what’s got you up?” Kiara ignores his quip at her, wanting to get to what was on his mind.

He didn’t respond right away, the silence sitting comfortably between them for a few moments. Kiara reaches down and brushes her fingers softly through his blonde hair, prompting him to finally respond.

“What do we do now Kie?” His whispers, just loud enough so she can hear him.

“What do you mean?” She murmurs back, as if she was afraid speaking too loudly would cause him to retreat back into his mind and close up on her.

“Like, we’re not kids anymore. Pope’s gone, you’ll be outta here traveling the world or whatever soon enough. I just feel like I’ve got nothin’ going for me when everyone else does.”

JJ’s admission makes her heart stop, and her breath catch in her throat. It had been a while since John B’s death, but that in no way meant they were over it. And now JJ was facing the very real possibility that he could be losing his remaining friends as well.

Wordlessly, Kiara reaches down again and gently tugs on JJ’s hand, indicating that she wanted him to get up. Predictably, he groaned in protest, but still slowly pulled himself up from the hammock. They both knew he would do anything she asked of him. Kiara leaned over and slightly turned up the volume of the speaker JJ had set up at the base of the tree. The sound of soft reggae music filled the air making her smile. She didn’t think before stepping closer to JJ so they were chest to chest with their noses just about touching. She wound both arms slowly around his neck securing him to her.

“What are you doing?” JJ asks her, a small smile creeping up on his face as his arms automatically wrap around her waist, closing the small gap between them.

“Dancing,” she responds, burying her nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of the ocean, smoke, and a hint of sweat. She sways their bodies side to side, and feels him drop his head into the top of hers.

“Why are we dancing?” He mumbles, moving his body with hers.

She ignores his question, and just lets the two of them get lost in the soft music and the feeling of being close to one another. A warm breeze rustles the trees above them causing JJ to grip his arms tighter around her. The fairy lights twinkle in the branches, and Kiara thinks to herself ‘how could it get better than this?’

“JJ,” she whispers into his neck, “how could you ever think that I would leave you?”

“Because this isn’t where you belong, Kie. You should be exploring the world, saving the turtles and probably every other animal along the way.”

“I belong where you are,” she says, her voice just loud enough so that he could hear her. “And if I’m leaving the Outer Banks, so are you.”

“There’s nothing out there for me. I’d be dragging you down.”

“You’ve never been out there, how would you know? You could teach surfing lessons and fix boats in a new country every month. We could ride bikes and never have to worry about a car again. Imagine, me and you hitting every country that has an ocean, surfing every wave we can find around the world. John B would be so proud of us.”

Her voice trails off at the mention of their dead best friend, worried she hit a nerve. But JJ just pulls his head away from hers just enough so that he could press his lips softly to her forehead.

“He really would, wouldn’t he?” JJ says with his mouth against her neck now.

“We’ll make it work, J. We always do. I don’t want to do things like travel the world if I’m not doing it with you by my side.”

“When do we leave, captain?” JJ asks jokingly, but in a way that makes her believe he is serious.

“Planning starts bright and early tomorrow, and I think we’d be much more productive if we got some sleep.”

He says nothing in response and the silence sits between them again as they continue to hold each other.

“Can we do this? In every country all over the world?” JJ asks quietly.

“Do what? Dance?”

“No. I- yes. But I mean more like, just like- be together? Like this?”

Kiara didn’t even try to fight the smile that spread across her face at his words. She pressed a kiss on his neck, right below his ear. She knew what their relationship was right now was complicated, but in that moment, nothing made more sense. She was his and he was hers. Simple as that.

“We’ll always be together. We can be like this for the rest of our lives. On our surf trip to every country around the world, and after it and before. I said I’d never leave you, and I meant it.”

#jiara #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jiara fanfiction #jiara fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #kiara carrera fanfiction #jj x kiara #jiara outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

I See You, I Know You- and I’m Not Going Anywhere

You're All I've Ever Wanted, All I Want to Know, part 2

Warnings: SMUT! THERE IS LOTS OF SMUT AHEAD!, oral (fem receiving), p in v sexy sex, shitty fiance of reader being shitty, slurs against the french (frog/froggy), angst, LOADS of feels, infidelity, gene mooning over reader to potentially OOC levels, tiny bit of innocence kink referenced, reader gets chatty when horny, untranslated french (bc it’s Gene’s POV so he wouldn’t think process and translate french in his head (let me know if you want me to add them)), unprotected sex (let’s just pretend there’s no risk, yes?), guilt, lots of potty words.

(My fancast for Peter Kelly is Pablo Schreiber but feel free to ignore it.)

Title(s) come from Duet by Penny and Sparrow and Only You by Matthew Perryman Jones

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It had been a relatively calm day in Schoonderlogt. The day was sunny- cold, but sunny- and everyone was taking advantage of the well-deserved break from the frontlines.

Gene was drinking some of the best coffee he’d had in months while watching a handful of Airborne and Army soldiers play some vaguely ruled interpretation of basketball, his eyes darting every so often towards the table a few yards away where you and the other nurses were casually sterilizing the linens and strips of fabric. 

You looked beautiful- your hair loose and your smile radiant as you laughed and joked with your friends. It wasn’t often that all of the company’s nurses were at the same place at the same time, so when the stars aligned and you got to see each other it never failed to bring you joy that would last for days afterward.

Your eyes caught his, and Gene couldn’t help but smile when you shot him a wink.

The merriment didn’t last much longer for you.

While Gene had been lighting a cigarette, he was dimly aware of another Jeep-load of Army men arriving at the mouth of the courtyard, not really concerned with the new arrivals.

Until you screamed.

When Gene and the other Easy men whipped their heads over towards the sound, he saw that someone- some man- had wrapped their arms around you from behind and lifted you off of your feet, a broad smile on the man’s face as he spun you around bodily.

“Froggy!”

Gene hadn’t realized he’d already gotten up and begun rushing for you until he saw Liebgott sprinting past him with balled fists and a fixed jaw. His blood was cold in his veins, heart thrumming anxiously as he catches sight of your pale face when the man sets you down, quickly turning in the man’s embrace and staring up at the grinning intruder.

Everyone comes to a halt when the man grips your bottom and pulls you into him for a deep kiss.

“Hey, Y/N!” Liebgott shouts, Gene watching with angry confusion as you quickly pull out of the kiss but don’t continue to shove the man away. “This guy bothering you?”

With your cheeks blazing, you offer a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, eyes still wide and flickering between Easy and this stranger.

“No,” you manage to say before the man wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you back into him.

“You gonna introduce me, Froggy-girl?”

Gene doesn’t like the way this man is bodily handling you, but what he really doesn’t like is how you seem to be letting him.

You clear your throat before shyly meeting Gene’s eyes.

“Guys, this is Peter Kelly,” you quickly look away from Gene and look to Joe Liebgott. “My fiance.”

You might as well have yanked Gene’s feet from under him.

~

Peter was everything Gene wasn’t: loud and boisterous and gregarious and extroverted, his jovial attitude initially winning over most of the guys.

That approval dissipates the more Peter drinks that night.

For Gene, he’d hated the man instantly. Not only because he was already half in love with you- although that was certainly a contributing factor.

No, Pete lost any respect from Gene the moment he saw the clear hickies hiding just beneath the collar of the man’s shirt. 

One time, when the two of you had been rolling bandages for restocking the soldier’s med-kits, you’d insinuated that Peter had a wandering eye. You hadn’t elaborated, but there had certainly been a tone of sad acceptance in your voice as you’d said it.

Judging by the way your eyes kept lingering on Peter’s throat, Gene knew that you knew exactly what had caused those marks.

It made Gene furious, but for your sake, he kept his seething to a minimum.

You seemed to shrink in on yourself, as if Peter’s presence made you wither from the inside. The more he spoke about you, it was clear to anyone listening that he didn’t respect you. Several times, Peter had referred to your nursing as ‘endearing’, ignoring your reminder that you weren’t doing this as a hobby with a look of faux apology and an admonishment for ‘upsetting your delicate frog-feelings’.

When Guarno had finally taken the bait and asked what all the frog references were about, you’d frowned and excused yourself with a grimace- a glower staining your face when Peter’s arm shoots out to pull you into his lap.

“Well, just look at her face- Doesn’t she look like the poutiest widdle frog?” 

He said this like a praise, Gene’s blood boiling as he watches you glare at a spot on the ground. With a bit of the fire you normally showed, you detangle yourself from his hold and announce that you’re going to refill your canteen- ignoring his childish whine and yelping when he smacks your ass as you leave.

“Also,” Peter says like a secret while hungrily watching you walk away. “Her mama’s second husband was one of those Frenchie types- so sometimes she acts a little spoiled- and all of us used to tell her to stop bein’ so froggy.”

When Peter shoots a wink Gene’s way, Gene gives him a glare before getting up and going the opposite direction you- not wanting to make your life any more difficult than Peter was clearly making it right now.

A little bit later, after Peter and some of the other Army guys invite Easy to join them at their basecamp, Gene overhears you and Peter arguing behind one of the stone buildings.

“I’m basically your husband, how am I supposed to explain to the guys that my girl doesn’t even want me to spend the night with her?”

“Because I know what ‘spending the night’ entails, and that is certainly not happening—”

Gene hears Peter groan, the beer he’d had earlier making him act more immature than before.

“I’m not getting tested. Why can’t you just trust me—?”

“Because you’re not trustworthy!” your voice is shrill, disgust lurking below the surface. “You clearly have been with someone recently, and I refuse to risk my job- my life- because you want to get off.”

Peter scoffs at that, and Gene creeps closer to hear better.

“You’re a nurse, Y/N. it’s not like you’re a medic—”

“Fuck you.”

Gene retreats quickly upon hearing your footsteps, only stopping when he hears a smacking sound. Before he can rush back, he hears you snarl.

“Don’t think you can ever put your hands on me like that ever again- on anyone. Next time, I won’t go easy on you with a slap. Now go away.”

~

With everyone else gone to the Army’s basecamp, Gene joins you in your temporary quarters, where you’re scribbling inventory reports with an angry grip on your pen.

It’s tense- and Gene wonders if you’d somehow known that he’d overheard your spat with Peter earlier. Your shoulders are up by your shoulders, leg bouncing beneath the table as you sit on the seat’s edge.

Gene knows you’re upset, but selfishly he’s upset too and knows he won’t be able to leave you to fester without at least trying to talk to you.

With obvious frustration, you all but throw your finished report towards the pile of completed paperwork by your feet, clearing your throat a few times as you stare at the wall in front of you.

Suddenly you sigh, your head tilting upward as your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Just go ahead and say it, Eugene.”

Gene frowns, staring at the back of your head. “Say what, Y/N—?”

“Whatever you’re trying so hard not to say, I can feel you ruminating all the way from over here.”

He pauses, feeling as if he may be walking into a trap that could make things infinitely worse. 

Screw it.

“You deserve better.”

You scoff sadly, a bitter sound that makes his chest ache in empathy.

“You sure about that?”

“‘Course I am. You deserve someone who doesn’t talk to you like you’re nuthin’. Someone who is kind and good and wants to make you happy—”

“What makes you think that he isn’t all of those things?”

“He’s a pig, Y/N….he is nuthin’ but mean and cruel and you’ve gotta see that—”

“How do you know that I didn’t used to be like him- just like him?”

Now he’s getting angry too, all of his rage from earlier coming back in full force without his permission.

“Stop bein’ contrary jus’ for the sake of it! Jesus, Y/N, you clearly don’t love him, why’re you still married if—?”

You slam down the pen you’ve been tapping aggressively, whirling around to turn the full force of your scowl upon him.

“What makes you think I haven’t tried to end it?!”

Carelessly nudging the chair out of your path, you storm across the room to stand before him and jab your index finger into the center of his chest.

“I hate to break it to you, Eugene, but some women don’t get to change their minds! Some of us could beg until we’re blue in the face and we’ll still be forced to tie ourselves to men who we hate, just because our parents want to reap the benefits of such arrangements!”

Your lip has begun to quiver, eyes shining with unshed tears as you look up at him.

“Some of us don’t get to be happy, don’t get to marry the people we love!”

Guilt makes his stomach feel sour, especially when you bury your face in his shirtfront and bite back a whimper of heartbreak- your breath hot through the layers of clothing as you choke back more cries.

“Hey,” Gene whispers, the anger he’d been feeling sizzling out like a drenched flame. “‘M sorry, Y/N- please don’t cry….”

You allow him to encourage your face away from his chest, taking your face in his hands and brushing the hair out of your face.

You look so defeated, so goddamn hopeless that it almost makes him want to cry, too. 

Unable to bear the sight of you upset for one more moment, Gene interrupts you mid-sob to catch your lips in a reassuring kiss.

It’s rougher than he intended, his desperation to quell your sorrow causing him to pull you into him a bit too quickly and causing your noses to press together uncomfortably for a moment. To his surprise, you don’t make any move to pull away- your hands coming up to grip at the front of his shirt with an anxiousness he hadn’t seen from you in years.

It reminds him of the first time he touched you.

Your lips are slightly trembling as you lean into him to deepen the kiss, and when Gene’s other hand comes up to cup your face he can feel the stick of drying tears on his palm. Seeing how your fiance had possessively gripped your face in his hand earlier had Gene’s blood boiling earlier- the lack of reverence the man had for you painfully clear in the way he spoke to you, the way he seemed to grope at you as if your flesh solely existed for his pleasure.

As if Gene didn't have enough reasons to hate Peter Kelly, the son of a bitch didn’t even appreciate the gift Gene knew you to be.

You were better than any of them, and he was sure that if he were to ask anyone else in Easy they would say the same. And, if the tension between Peter and the rest of the men were anything to go by, the general consensus was that the man didn’t deserve you. How he’d gotten you in the first place was a marvel that Gene couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Right now, all he knew was you, you, you.  

Your hands fisted in his hair offered the most comforting sting of passion, and Gene would be lying if he said that having you so fervent for him didn’t drive him to the brink of insanity. Heightened emotion was something the both of you seemed to have lost throughout this god-awful war, something you’d both had to relinquish in order to survive. 

Any time you showed these sparks of life, Gene felt a warmth in his chest that envied the most golden sunshine.

It reminded him that you were alive and he was alive and there was still a chance for something good to happen after all of this.

All of his thoughts return to you, feeling guilty for reflecting in a moment that demanded- no, deserved all of his attention and gratitude. He could admire you privately after you fell asleep, in his arms.

Right now, he needed to remind you that you were something worthy of worship.  

You whimper against his mouth when he slides his hands up the planes of your back beneath your sweater, breaking away from your lips momentarily to pull the sweater over your head and toss it to the floor. 

“I need you,” you’re whispering, your hands coming to tear at the buttons of his jacket as if it is personally offending you. “I’m so sorry, but I do….Please, Gene! I fucking need you—!”

Gene is quick to shush you, quickly helping you finish divesting him of his jacket so he can swallow your apologies in another toe-curling kiss. Growing up, he’d been taught that marriage was a life-long commitment, that anyone who broke that promise was ungodly or impure.

Of course, he’d also naively believed that people only got married because they were deeply and wholly in love with one another. It wasn’t until he had met you in Toccoa that he’d realized that love sometimes had nothing to do with it, that those sort of things weren't necessarily as clean-cut as he’d been led to believe.

Taking your face in his hands again, he tilts your face up so he can kiss at the warm skin beneath your jaw, liking the way your moan vibrates in your throat as he walks you back to the table you’d been working at and presses your backside against it.  The sound of your open-mouthed panting had him painfully hard already- it’s almost embarrassing how little you have to do to get him like this.

He hadn’t even realized one of your hands had been working at the fastening of his pants until you’ve begun to scratch your nails softly down the skin of his lower stomach, and when his hips jump in surprise he can feel your breath hitch in your throat with heady amusement. When you do it again, he can hear the smile in your exhale.

“Such a perfect cock,” you nearly coo, your touch light as your fingertips brush over the head of him. “Can’t believe how perfect you are….”

You get like this sometimes when you get turned on, Gene has come to learn.- all lust-drunk and babbly as your words switch from thoughtful to stream of consciousness. It’s endearing, so wildly endearing that Gene would go as far as to call this habit cute. 

Cute was the only term you ever showed resistance to, even in jest. Your reaction to the word was so viscerally negative that it had even surprised him- the person who you had frequently insisted knew you the best.

After meeting your fiance and his degrading attempts at ‘praise’, Gene was now able to understand why. 

Your hand was stroking him in earnest now, having used his precum to coat your hand so your movements were smooth and confident. Despite the fact that he’d managed to get your trousers undone and loose around your thighs, Gene hadn’t been able to actually do anything else other than clutch at your hips and gasp into your neck as you rhythmically ruined him.

Normally, this is as far as you two would get- one of you getting the other off with your hands (and sometimes mouths) before someone or something would interrupt the other’s attempt at reciprocation and you’d both have to dive back into your duties to the Company. It was deeply unsatisfying- particularly for Gene because he wasn’t afraid to admit that making you cum wasn’t one of his favorite things to do. Each and every time he didn’t get to return the favor made him feel terribly guilty- like he had somehow exploited your feelings for him.

It made him feel sick. It didn’t matter how many times you insisted that you didn't see it that way, he always was left feeling as if he’d been inexcusably selfish. 

He hated it.

But tonight was different. For once, the two of you weren’t the only medics available for the dozens of men who seemed to have a near-constant stream of injuries and festering wounds. The Army was there with their fourteen medics and nurses and the majority of Easy company had gone to visit their camp in order to mooch some of their beer and US-funded entertainment.

No one would be interrupting his time with you tonight. 

Not even your fiance, who was no doubt dishonoring his vows of fidelity right now.

It didn’t have to stop. He didn’t want it to stop.

“Wait, Minette,” Gene chokes out, reaching down to stop your sinfully-sweet touch before he lost himself in it. “Jus’ wait a second…..”

You make a sound of disappointment in your throat, and when he pulls back enough to look at you he can see a small pout on your lips- as if he’s deprived you of something. The sight makes him feel lightheaded, the implications almost enough to….

Focus, focus.

“You were so close,” your voice holds an undertone of frustration, your other hand attempting to sneak down and finish what the other had started. When he takes that wrist as well, your eyebrows furrow almost comically. “What are you doing, Eugene—?”

You cut yourself off when he suddenly drops to his knees, hands hooking in the waist of your pants and underwear as he does so and shucking them down to your ankles. Your eyes are wide now, cheeks flushed and eyebrows high in surprise.

Keeping his gaze on you, he leans forward enough to press a kiss to your freshly bared thigh. By the time he moves to give the other the same treatment, he can see that your eyes are becoming soft once more.

“I wanna take your boots off,” Gene says as evenly as he can, electricity crackling in his veins at the smell of you. “Can I do that, Y/N?”

At your hurried nod, Gene kisses a ‘good girl’ to your skin quickly before bowing his head to unlace your boots with shaking fingers. He’s thankful for the time it takes him to do so- it gives him the opportunity to get his thoughts together and regain some semblance of control over himself.

Maybe one day he could be impulsive when it came to you, when neither of you had the threat of death hanging over your heads like a heavy cloud.

But now, with each moment commonly understood as having the potential to be your last, Gene couldn’t afford to leave you as anything other than satisfied…..worshipped.

By the time he has your boots removed and one of your legs freed from your trousers, he wants nothing more than to make you come apart beneath him. Because of him.

Looking back up at you, he can see that you’ve unbuttoned your shirt and thrown it open so he can see your nipples harden beneath your once white t-shirt- the weather was far too cold to consider undressing to complete nudity. Your mouth is pink and swollen, shiny from your tongue having recently darted out to wet them.

For a moment, Gene is stuck- too awed by your beauty to risk moving and missing a moment of it. Your heated whisper of his name is the only thing that shakes him free, and he can’t help but lean into your touch when you card a hand through his hair again.

Bringing his rifle-roughened hands to your knees, he purposefully slides them up your thighs until he can rub his thumbs over your hip bones. When he presses on them lightly, you follow his touch and perch yourself on the edge of the table with a quiet curse. The action parts your lower lips slightly, a movement he is quick to chase with his mouth. 

He wastes no time shouldering his way between your thighs, using his hands to guide them over his shoulders as he starts to lick gently at the seam of your sex.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your other hand coming down to scratch lightly at his scalp. “Fuck, Eugene….you don’t have to—ohh!”

Your unnecessary reassurance is lost in a sigh of arousal the moment his thumbs open you up more for him so he can circle the tip of his tongue around your clit before laving it more purposefully. You always tried to reassure him that using his mouth on you wasn’t necessary, clearly not accustomed to having a partner who enjoyed doing so.

Not that Gene was an expert, not by any means.

But, between having mapped out your sex with his fingers and the limited experience he’d had before the war paired with his- er, considerable knowledge of the human anatomy- he knew enough to take out most of the guesswork.

He hasn’t had many opportunities to go down on you- three on the boat ride to England, five times during your time in Alderbourne, twice since dropping into Normandy. You’d dropped to your knees for him far more than that, and now that he had more perspective on what your relationship with Peter had probably entailed Gene was determined to make up for each and every indulgence you’d offered him.

The tremor of your thighs tells him that you’re getting close, and he can tell by the way the muscles of your stomach clench beneath his greedy palm that you’re starting to have a hard time keeping yourself up as you watched him devour you. He hadn’t realized how vigorously he’d been attending to you, too lost in your taste and smell to hear the interspersing chant of his name being showered upon him as praise spilled from your lips once more.

With a groan, brings you to orgasm, refusing to cease his suckling despite the blooming ache in his jaw. It isn’t until your foot raises to press at his shoulder that he allows you to push him away, and he can tell that he’s exhausted you by the way you fall back and writhe while your release works itself through your bloodstream.

“Oh my God, Gene,” you keep repeating, chest jumping with adrenaline. “Why are you….how are you so good?”

He chuckles at that, his cheeks darkening at the praise. Gene watches as your eyes skate down his body to look at his cock, swallowing audibly before looking into his eyes once more. Before he can assure you that he understands if you don’t want to keep going, you carefully sit up and look up at him bashfully, biting the inside of your lower lip and bringing your hand to his cheek.

The look you’re giving him starts to make him nervous. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when you clear your throat and tell him.

“I...I don’t know if I’m good at it.”

Gene frowns, searching your face for clarification as to what you’re trying to say.

“What’re you mean, ma cherie? What’s got you so worried?”

Your shoulders nearly slump as you sigh, giving him a weak smile as you clear your throat once more. 

“At sex, Gene. I’m worried—I don’t know how to make it good for you...”

With a shake of his head, he brings his crooked index finger under your chin to stop you from hanging your head in embarrassment. You look so lost right now it breaks his heart.

“Minette, you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

When you open your mouth to rebuke his statement he’s quick to kiss you, using his free hand to bring yours from his cheek to press against the middle of his chest. It takes you a moment, but you do kiss him back, inhaling sharply as he nips carefully at your bottom lip.

Pulling back, Gene traces his thumb over your lips and gives you a soft smile.

“Never worry about me, ‘cause there isn’t a damn thing you could do that wouldn’t make it ‘good for me’.”

You narrow your eyes at that. “I doubt that’s true—”

Gene snorts and shakes his head admonishingly. “Doubt all you want, darlin’. Don’t make any of what I said change one bit.”

You look at him for a bit, eyes softening again and your hand smoothing down his chest with a hum. He thinks you’re going to require further reassurance until he watches as you purposefully part your mouth enough for his thumb to slip between your lips. The sight of you watching him paired with the drag of your tongue along the pad of his finger goes straight to his cock, reminding him of just how hard he’s become.

When you release him with a gentle nip to his fingertip, Gene stares at you in disbelief.

“Jésus Christ, cherie,” he can’t help but murmur. “Vous ne jouez pas juste…”

You tilt your head slightly, clearly aware of what he’s said but seeming to understand the gist of it.

“Show me what you like,” you whisper, scooting your hips to the very edge of the table and brushing your lips against his. “I’ve wanted you for so long….”

Gene kisses you as he slips inside of you, your gasp of pleasure sweet on his tongue. Unprompted, you bring your legs up to find some purchase around his hips and squeak as you take all of him in at once.

Bon Dieu, tu te sens comme le paradis….

You are clutching at him, your hands dancing for the best place to grip him before settling on one arm hooking around his neck and your other hand bracing at his left bicep. It’s an awkward position- probably because neither of you had ever tried to fuck on a table before- so Gene tries to get past the near blinding pressure building in his loins and wraps one of his arms around your hips to slightly adjust the bend in your spine.

“Shit, I’m sorry—!” you being to apologize before he cuts you off.

“Non, non, non, non Minette….just let me try and—”

You both cry out as he suddenly ruts deep, your nails digging into his flesh through his shirts you gape up at him in surprise.

“Oh, oh!”

“‘S that okay?” he grits out, resisting every fiber in his body that is begging for him to piston his hips and just fuck you already. You nod quickly, rolling your hips experimentally and kissing him quickly when he keens before he can stop himself. Gene grits his teeth at the sweetness you’re showing him. You’re just so good. “I’ll stop if it’s—”

“More than okay….do that again- please don’t stop!”

There’s something so…. overwhelming about the way you’re looking at him, with your eyes wide and lips parted. The whimper that comes from the back of your throat at his next thrust combined with your bewildered expression makes you appear so beautifully innocent that Gene momentarily forgets how to breathe. Maybe innocent is the wrong word. 

Honest. Yes, that was it.

It was your honesty that was overwhelming him, the lack of theater in your reactions to him and his touch so genuine and open that he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. Having you- the most glorious creature he’d ever met, would ever meet- gaze at him as if he’s hung the stars in the sky was just so bewitching and unexpected, particularly because of how highly he regarded you.

Your eyes have a glossy look to them, almost as if you were drunk. Rather than the babble he’d anticipated hearing from you, you’ve gone almost silent aside from the sighs and gasps of pleasure that accompany each piston of his hips into your tight velvet heat. Head lolled back, you watch him from under heavy lids while meeting his thrusts with careful pitches of your own, your eyelashes fluttering in response to his punched-out breath washing over your face.

If he didn’t know any better, Gene would say that you had undersold your experience on purpose. You had to know what you were doing to him.

How devastatingly close you were to unmanning him.

“Is it good, Ma Chatounette?” he can hear himself ask, his head already swimming with the initial signs of orgasm. “Am I making you feel good?”

You nod shallowly, mouth opening to reply but no sound coming out. The hand you’ve braced on his arm now has started to claw, and he can feel you tighten around him. 

You’re close, too.

“Please,” you nearly weep, your hips starting to rut against him. “Please please please please—!”

“D'accord,”’ he nods, taking your words as permission to allow his body to chase that fire that’s been burning him alive for quite some time now. “Je te donnerai ce dont tu as besoin, chérie. Je vais le rendre meilleur….”

Gene moans as you allow him to put a hand on your shoulder and press you back so you’re laying back on the table, your back arching sinfully as you mewl for him. Your legs tighten around his waist, and he feels his jaw go slack at the sight of your rolling hips coming to meet him thrust for thrust. You’ve begun to chant his name again, the sheen of sweat on your skin making you look like some carnal divinity sent to him for the sole purpose of ruining him.

And who was he to deny an angel?

Your arms wrap around him as he hunches over to brace his elbows by your shoulders, pressing your hot cheek against his - nibbling at his earlobe as his rhythm becomes punishing.

“Ma ruine, mon ange, je ne veux jamais être sans toi—”

“Come for me- please, please, I’ve never felt so good—”

It’s the catch of his pelvis against your clit that snaps both of you into oblivion, Gene’s vision going white as he clutches at whatever parts of you he can get his hands on, choking on his own breath as the bite of your fingernails adds the perfect amount of pain to his release. He’s aware of you crying out in release, but it’s swirled into the sound of blood racing in his ears as your tightening walls milk him for all he’s worth.

As his vision returns to him, he laboriously removes his head from the curve of your shoulder to look at you, his heart freezing midbeat when he sees tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You’re shaking your head, hands finding his cheeks to bring his mouth to yours so you can kiss him syrupy-slow, the action throwing him for a loop.

“I’m happy,” you insist between kisses. “It was so good…. I-I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry—”

Gene calms instantly, kissing you back and sighing into your mouth.

He understood what you were trying to say, knew exactly what you were experiencing. It made him stupidly happy that he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by this….connection you two had.

He’d never had a lover who had reciprocated his feelings so fully. Then again, he’d never felt this with anyone else before, either.

“Don’t be sorry, Minette….I feel it, too.”

It takes the two of you a while, but you do eventually manage to move to the small mattress in the corner of the room, tangling yourselves together beneath the moderate warmth of the blankets and coats you’d scavenged earlier while avoiding Peter.

You must’ve thought he was asleep, because he has a feeling you wouldn’t have dared to say the words aloud.

“I love you,” you whispered against his shoulder in the darkness. “However terrible that makes me, I’m in love with you Eugene Roe.”

Gene is thankful for the pitch-black surrounding you. That way, he can allow himself to smile without fear of you seeing it.

Je suis amoureux de toi depuis des années, (Y/N).  J'ai hâte de te le dire un jour.

But for now, this was enough.

~ ~ ~

(*hides under covers for the rest of the day* OK THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME THIS HAS BEEN MY FIC DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

[hoboal87]

In Secret

Title: In Secret

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jensen have been in a secret relationship for five years, and she wants more.

Warnings: Angst, Affair, Open Relationship, Oral (F receiving), Implied Smut, Jensen Is A Bit Of An Ass

A/N: This is my entry for @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ “Make Me Swoon” writing challenge!  My prompt is “I’m tired of being your secret.” 

A/N 2: Y’all, I never expected such an overwhelming positive response to this one-shot! This will soon be a multi-part series, I’ve already started working on the next part, but I don’t know if I’ll get anything posted before Elastic Heart is complete. 

A/N 3: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS COMMENTED/REBLOGGED/ASKED TO BE TAGGED!

No Beta all mistakes are mine.

The air is thick around you, the smell of sex filling every inch of your room. You could die just like this, here, with the man you love, holding you tight against him as you both come down from your highs. He rolls you both over, his hand gently rubbing over your stomach, inching down to your sore and swollen pussy. You groan when he dips a finger into wet heat.

“I love cumming in you,” he whispers, gently biting at your ear, and you can feel his smile. “Wish I could do it every day.” He starts pumping his finger, tightening the coil again, and you bite back another moan.

“Mmm,” you hum as he sinks another finger in, his thumb brushes over your clit. You reach behind you, palming his half-hard cock. “You could, y'know.”

The atmosphere between you changes in an instant, he huffs, and pulls away from you, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You should’ve known this is how he would react, every time you breach the subject it always ends the same way. The guilt you both feel, the lying, all of it comes to the surface, rearing its ugly head.

“Just tell her,“ you beg as he leaves your bed. "That’s the whole point of your agreement, isn’t it?” He doesn’t respond, reaching down to grab his once hastily discarded jeans off the floor. “She gets to fuck whoever she wants and so do you.”

“This is different, Y/N. You know that,” he sighs and steps into his jeans.

“Why?” You sit up, using the sheet to keep yourself covered. “Tell me, Jensen. Why is this different? Why is okay for her to think that your out fucking some random girl instead of me?”

“Y/N,” Jensen turns around, his emerald eyes staring you down. “It’s more complicated than that. We-” he gestures between you, “we have a history. You don’t think she knows about our past?”

“Our past?” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “We were friends. There’s nothing in our past, we didn’t even start any of this until after you two were together. You had years- years Jay, to do something about that. You knew how I felt about you, but instead you jumped from girl to girl and I was the one who had to put you back together, she doesn’t get to take all the credit.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this fight with Jensen. Every time they go on hiatus you beg him to stay just a few days longer, knowing that it would be almost two months before he’d be back. You know deep down that it isn’t fair, he spends nine months out of the year in Vancouver, and when he’s here it’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. You and Jensen couldn’t go out in public, not even as “friends,” all it would take was one ill-timed photo to throw both of your worlds into utter chaos.

Being the other woman came with its own set of rules. When it all started you were just happy to be able to be with him, even if that meant it began and ended at the threshold of your home. When you were together you were the only two people in the world, you didn’t discuss her or the fact that she was pregnant. You, in particular, were allowing yourself to live in ignorant bliss cherishing everything he had to give you. You never thought you were the type of person who’d be having an affair with anyone, let alone Jensen, but you can’t help yourself from falling into bed with him every time he comes over.

You’d gone to high school together, and for four years you waited patiently for him to ask you out on a date. Instead, he dated one of your friends, biting your tongue when he told you about their relationship ending; you knew it wouldn’t last.

You went your separate ways after high-school, you’d stayed in Texas to go to college, and he’d gone off to Hollywood, you’d kept in touch through the years. Reconnecting when you’d moved to Vancouver for your job. It started out as harmless flirting, double entendres, and teasing.

The first time you slept together it wasn’t something either of you had planned. She was in L.A. working on her latest movie, and you were still on the rebound from your latest break-up. It was a night of too many drinks and loneliness drove your actions. You kept your distance from each other in the weeks that followed, sorting out your feelings, unsure if it was a one-time drunken mistake or the start of something real.

The second time you were both sober. He’d come over to discuss what happened; how he would never cheat on her, he was in love with her, he wanted to marry her. You tried to understand, Jensen was always a fantasy, someone who you could never have. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him over sex. You both agreed to put it behind you, never discuss it again, “pretend it never happened,” he insisted. It nearly killed you, but you nodded hesitantly.

He reached out to squeeze your knee, and you made your way towards the front door. You fidgeted with your hands as you entered the front walkway, not wanting him to leave. There was a hesitation as Jensen reached for the doorknob, and you pulled him in for a hug, melting your body into him. Before you knew what was happening, your lips were on his, wanting, needing more. He had you caged against the wall, hands pawing at you, lifting you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and he ground himself against you. His mouth never left yours as he carried you to your bedroom, dropping you playfully on the bed.

Jensen rid himself of his shirt while you shed your own, desperate to have his skin against yours. The first time was messy, rushed, this time you wanted to take your time, appreciate every moment that you were having with him. He placed sweet wet kisses over your breasts, making his way down, tugging at your jeans to expose your soaked panties. You lifted your hips as he hooked his fingers around them, pulling them along with your jeans down, tossing them onto the floor.

Jensen placed gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs, you could feel him smiling against your skin as he moved towards your aching pussy. His eyes met yours, giving you a final chance to stop him. “Please, Jay,” you murmured. Each swipe of his tongue was pure ecstasy, you reached down for him, holding his face closer to you.

You try to clench your legs around him, but he keeps them apart, eyes flicking up at you as you fall apart. He continues his assault on your cunt, removing one hand, and teasing you with his finger. You groaned as it slid through your folds up to your clit, pressing down as his tongue fucked into you. Unable to make any intelligible sounds, you heard a low chuckle come from him as two fingers entered your weeping hole.

He pumped them fast, spurring you on as you felt the coil tightening. You felt yourself clenching around him and you breathing grew heavier, his fingers finding your sweet spot, brushing it again and again as his mouth focused on your bundle of nerves. You lost all control of yourself when he added a third finger, cumming hard on his face.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he pulled away. He climbed up your body, placing wet kisses over you until he was hovering above you. His cock was hard and ready, precum leaking from the tip, you gently wrapped your hand around him, and he let out a soft groan as you slowly began to pump him. He kissed you passionately and you could taste the release of your climax on his lips.

“I love you, Jay,” you whimper. It wasn’t something you were ever planning on admitting to him, or to yourself, but you couldn’t stop the words from leaving. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear as you guided him towards your entrance. Jensen’s eyes bore deep into you, studying your face as you took in his words.

“Please, Jay,” you begged, “fuck me.”

Jensen doesn’t move; you know he doesn’t have an answer.

“I’m tired of being your secret,” you huff. “It’s been five years.”

“Goddammit, Y/N!” He shouts, throwing his hands into his hair. “She’s my wife, the mother of my children. You want me to throw it all away?”

You try to stammer out a response, but he continues, pacing in front your bed.

“You act like this is easy for me, it isn’t. I told you after that second time, I’m never going to leave her. You said you could accept that. That’s the only reason we continued this. She’s paranoid enough about you as it is, and you want me to tell her that we’ve been sleeping together for the past five years, how do you think that will make her feel?”

“How will it make her feel?” you scoff. “What about how I feel? My feelings don’t matter?”

“That’s not what I said, Y/N.”

“I’ve kept my feelings to myself for years, Jay. I’ve tried to be understanding, I haven’t asked you for anything. I don’t push the subject, but I’m tired, Jay.”

He paces in front of you, muttering to himself.

“I want you, Jay, you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” you whisper, it’s something you both know, but you never planned to say it out loud. “I broke up with Steven for you.”

“He never deserved you, sweetheart,” he says, and a smile creeps upon your face. For a moment you think that he’ll admit that he wants more with you.

"You never like anyone I date, Jay,” you chuckle slightly, “I think it because you’re jealous.”

Jensen’s body stiffens, and you know immediately that he doesn’t like your joke. He grabs his shirt off the dresser and pulls it over his head before storming out of the room.

“Jensen, babe, I was just-” you follow him out, quickly pulling on a camisole and yoga pants, not bothering with underwear. “Jay, it was a joke.”

“We both know it wasn’t Y/N,“ he snaps back and your smile quickly fades. "You think I like watching you parade with some douche? You wanna slut around with some fuckin’ prick, I ain’t gonna stop you.”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Jay,” you hiss. “You don’t get to act like some jealous boyfriend. You’ve made it very clear just now, that I am not your girlfriend or whatever you wanna call this.”

“You’re right, babygirl, I’m not,” he huffs, “and I’m never going to be. I’m never going to be yours, Y/N. If I wanted that, I would’ve made my move a long time ago.” Jensen’s words are like stabs to your heart, and you try to conceal the tears forming in your eyes. “I chose her over you, I’ll always choose her over you.”

There’s a flash of regret playing on his face. There they were; the words that you knew were coming sooner or later. You’d hoped he’d never say them, that the two of you could go on the way you had been for years in denial. He remains stoic as you use every ounce of willpower to not break down in front of him.

"We’re never gonna be more than this, Y/N,” he says softly. “You have to know that.”

“Y'know Jay, if you wanted this to stay casual,” you wipe the tears away, “all you had to do was say so. You’re so concerned about her, but she’s in Austin ‘slutting around’ as you delicately put it, sleeping with who knows how many people-”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N!” Jensen screamed, and your heart fell into your stomach. He’s never yelled at you like this before, you pushed him too far this time, letting your own jealousy take over. “Don’t talk about what goes on in my relationship with my wife. She is nothing like you, she doesn’t spread her legs every time someone gives her the time of day.”

“You fucking asshole!” You yell, picking up everything that you could get your hands on, and throwing it at him. “Get the fuck out!”

“Y/N,” he tries to reason with you, blocking himself from the barrage of items being thrown at him. “Baby, listen.”

“No!” You push him towards the front door and he stumbles backwards into the hallway.

“Y/N,” Jensen reaches out to soothe you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t touch me,” you slap his hand away. “You’re never gonna touch me again,” you push him again, moving him closer to the door. “You can go back to your perfect wife, your perfect family. Congratulations, Jay. You don’t have to choose. We’re done.”

Part 2

#jensen ackles #jensen x reader #implied smut #angst #makemeswoon #sabrina's 250 follower writing challenge

[crvluz]

✰𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 ✰

𝟏𝟖+!! 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥  𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.. 𝐓𝐖: 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

Dating a criminal meant that your relationship was unconventional  to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some dead cops. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss' bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you'd prefer not to know about. And while you weren't necessarily okay with a lot of what Jean did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn't scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Jean could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn't care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he's found something to tether him to this existence.

Maybe he didn't use those words exactly, but he doesn't have to. You know that's what he means when he spoils you with expensive clothes and jewelry, when he offers to kill  any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any "normal couple" experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine's Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Jean had been gone for close to a month now and you didn't expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don't jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of the Creed Aventus cologne, gunpowder and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Jean's scent and you've missed it. You've missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

"Welcome home." You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn't matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his light hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. "Sit up, darling. I got a surprise for you."

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he's really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Jean expectantly. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It's so cliché you can't help but let out a small snort. "What is it?"

"It's a gift. You know... for Valentine's Day?" He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn't your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn't want him to be.

"Well now I feel awful. I didn't get you anything." You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

"It's  like a toy... so it's technically for you, but kind of for both of us." It's unusual to see Jean this excited. Eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

"Like a sex toy?" A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

"Are we playing fucking 20 questions? Just open it." He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don't comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn't falter. You've never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It's definitely the real deal.

"Jean, this isn't a toy." You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says "Princess, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?"

"O-okay? What do you want to do with it?" You ask, placing the offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

"Ever heard of Russian Roulette?" Jean, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Jean is quick to pull you back.

"It's really easy, darling. No need to look so scared." He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. "6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens."

The look on his face is positively demented. Sage eyes wide and bright, his face contorted into a sinister smile, white teeth and the silver tongue piercing gleaming in the dim light.

"Baby," you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. "I don't know about thi-"

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you're unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

"You see now darling?" He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. "You've gone and wasted a shot."

Jean climbs off of you and you're left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

"You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?" Jean prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes begin to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Jean has in store for you.

"Good. Now strip." He commanded and like a good girl, you obeyed.

Your arms feel like they're made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Jean's old ones). You can't stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.  

This can't be happening. It's Jean. He wouldn't hurt you. He promised you that.

"Oh cut the fucking waterworks." He snaps. "As long as you listen, you'll be fine."

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he's leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. "Fair warning, I'm more of a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy. But you know that already." He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. "Now, touch yourself for me."

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it's like you can't get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of the gun in your boyfriend's hand, you still bring your own hand between your legs, but you can't concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Jean's standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You  gasp again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

"Princess," Jean's gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you're very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. "You're ruining my surprise. Got it 'specially for you and now you're being a brat." He querched an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

"So-sorry.-" your voice breaks. "I'll be good."

You're still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it's a game. You can't help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend's villain behavior.

"Yeah?" His voice drops to a whisper. "Then show me." He challenges you. Jean slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that's doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for the best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, it's Jean's touch. In your mind's eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Jean on top, resting his forehead against yours. It's one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It's one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, leaving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he's perfect, that he's yours.  Because it's one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It's not long before you're leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there's a voice chastising you for being so easy for him... even now. There's almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Jean's; they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

"Look at me." You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you're lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it's almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you've been living in this whole time. It's enough to make you forget the situation you're in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

"Fucking slut." He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it, the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

"All those fucking tears but look how wet you are." He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. "Tastes so good, princess." He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his light ash-brown  hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue piercing before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your pussy, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he's eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren't for the metal digging into your flesh.

"Darling," He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. "I want you to squirt for me."

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You're not sure of the odds that you'd be able to right now and it's not a gamble you're willing to take. "Jean, I don't think I can...."

CLICK

You thrash, gasp so loud it makes your throat burn.

Jean still holds you open, keeping you in place. "I wasn't asking." He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes two of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It's unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand, the one he  held  the gun with up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what's at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You're consumed by desire as Jean brings you so close to the edge.

"D...Deeper please." You pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. "Right here?" His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

"Y...yeah." You're barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high.  Jean keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can't hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Jean doesn't move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you're trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. "You made such a mess baby, but I'm glad you're finally having fun." He's just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn't let you recover. "Come on, princess. My turn." He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans.

You pull yourself onto all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

"You've been lucky so far." He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. "But I wouldn't test it if I were you. Open."

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Jean.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savoring the  taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. "Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes." He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his dick, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging.

"So good to me princess." He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Jean is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You're already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don't dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that's hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn't give you much time before he's in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

"I love you so much. You love me?" He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try to utter a 'Yes, I love you.' but with his dick gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. "You'd do anything for me right?" He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Jean lose his composure bit by bit. "Yeah. That's why you're my girl." He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his  hair and holding you there. "Fuck."

CLICK

"Mmmhhh" You squeal around him but you can't pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. 

"Wh- Why" You blubber, voice hoarse. You don't understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

"Sorry princess. Felt so good, my finger slipped." He doesn't even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there's no way you can win because Jean doesn't play fair.

He doesn't give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. "C'mon pretty princess." He tugs on your ankle.  I want  to see you bounce on my dick."

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn't need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don't want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It's something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it's working. Circumstances be damned. "I need to feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me baby." He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You're outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Jean's chest.

"What's the matter darling?"

I'm terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

"Oh, I know." He coos, voice dripping with condescension. "'I'm too big for your tiny cunny." He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. "But you can take it. I know you can." He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You can do it for me"

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that's apparently not good enough for Jean and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You're trying.

"Quit being a baby and just take it." He says before you even get the chance.

"I'm trying Jean, please just-"

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He's not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his dick by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling onto your boyfriend's chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he's quite literally splitting you open.

"See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn't that right." He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. "But looks like you're all out of chances princess. Now bounce." He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender. 

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Jean's brown eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

"Good girl." When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he's holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You're practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with "yes" and "more".  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It's confusing and you can't process any of it.

"Who owns this perfect pussy?"

"Jean. Fuck. Jean." Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

"That's right it's all fuckin mine. My pretty baby." Jean's eyes are focused on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, your brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

 "Darling" He groans. "I feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum?"

He's right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Jean abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. "Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? I want you to baby." He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. "C'mon doll, please."

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

 He doesn't let you catch your breath before he's got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. "Now make me cum." You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Jean gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he's not done with you yet.

"Hey." You're ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. "Don't pass out on me now."   

"So-sorry! 'M sorry!" You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You're so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don't have a choice and you don't dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

"You can do better than that doll." He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. "It's like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling."

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you've been with Jean, you've learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can't remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Jean tsks at you, reminding you that you can't rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he's buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he's getting close, you're not sure how much more you can take.

"If I don't bust in the next 5 seconds." His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. "Bang!" He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

"Five." He grits out.

"Jean, please!" But you're met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

"Four." He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can't stop moving, not unless you want him to- "Please cum!" You beg. "Need your cum."

"Three."

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

"Wh-Why?!" is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

"Two." He ignores your question, transfixes on your tits bounce in his face. You're getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Jean is determined to get you there.

You still can't believe this is real. You never thought that Jean would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that's what he told you.

Moreover, you can't believe how your own body is betraying you. You can't believe you're actually going to cum. Again.

"One."

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it's out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK  and the sensation of Jean's hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he rusts up to make sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you're able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world's funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

"You should have seen your face. You were so fucking scared."

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Jean. This is the Jean that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Jean.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Jean grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. "C'mon princess, you didn't think I was being serious did you?"

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. "Don't be such a crybaby. It was just a joke." He strokes your back oh so tenderly. But you won't fall for that again. Jean is a villain through and through. You know that now. 

It's no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don't know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love you."

#jean #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #smut #intense smut #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein #gunplay #degrading kink

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Save Me, Please!

Chapter 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  ...

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰:

Stalking, gaslighting, phycological manipulation, anything that has to do with the yandere trope.

Once you finally got settled in, life began to shift back to normal. The nightmares stopped. Your job was going fine. All Might still greeted you on your way to work.

Days went by. No weird guy. Weeks, nothing still.

Finally, after three months, he was back.

This time, though, you met him under very different circumstances.

You were at a tiny, obscure grocery store all the way on the other side of town. You never went there before, but you were bored and decided to give it a look.

He was standing in the pharmacy aisle. He didn’t see you at first, and he wouldn’t have noticed you at all if you didn’t audibly gasp when you spotted him.

Maybe it’s all a coincidence. Maybe I just dreamt of a random fucker who happens to resemble this guy.

That would’ve been a good lie to tell yourself if his eyes didn’t light up with realization and recognition.

You immediately approached him, your fingers tightly gripping your phone.

“Do you know who I am?” you gritted.

“Um...am I supposed to?” he shrugged. You began to second guess yourself. Maybe this wasn’t him after all.

Those eyes, though. No one you’ve ever seen in your life has ever had the entire whites of their eyes blacked out.

“No? Because I know exactly who you are, you fucking creep!” you yelled. Now, people were looking.

Before you could think too hard about it, you began calling All Might. Screw the police; they wouldn’t know.

His pocket began to vibrate, and you saw his jaw clench.

All Might wasn’t picking up. Your heart was racing.

While you tried to redial the number, the man was gone. He left his basket in the middle of the aisle.

You tried to chase after him, but you were soon caught in a fog of suffocating white smoke.

You brushed it away, screaming and trying to get the man to stop.

Once you got out of it, though, he had been long gone.

You held your phone in your shaky hand. All Might had finally picked up, and he was screaming in the reciever for you to answer him.

“...he got away,” is all you could manage to squeak out.

“Who? Who got away? Are you hurt? Where are you?” his voice bombarded you with questions. You didn’t answer, sitting down to try to catch your breath.

Just as you found it, he was in front of you, checking you for any minor injuries and interrogating you about the mysterious man.

All you could do was blankly stare at the pavement. He was talking, but you couldn’t hear him. All you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears, and your unwavering thoughts. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real.

“No, it’s... not real... he’s...” you whimpered to yourself. Soon, you were a total mess of screams, tears, and blind terror. You ripped at your hair. Your fists collided with whoever was near you.

No, I cant do this. God, please wake me up from this fucking nightmare.

All Might was trying to divert the attention away from your insanity, trying to make it look like you weren't having a nervous breakdown. Despite his attempts, though, onlookers already called the local police station.

The police showed up, but you were far from caring. It was all All Might could do to not cover your mouth and drag you off somewhere to help you calm down in a more private area.

“All Might! Hey! What’s happening with...her?” an officer questioned, gesturing towards you.

“Sorry sirs, I hope you didn’t go out of your way to come here. I’ve got her under control,” he assured, grinning.

“Ya sure? Well, if that’s the case, we’ll see you later,” replied the officer, slamming his car door and speeding away.

All Might managed to get you into his car and get you home.

By now, you were out of energy. All you were capable of was to blankly stare.

Is any of this real? No, I’m not real. I don’t exist. That’s it. Your mind was totally disconnected from your body.

The hero carried you into your house, locking the door behind him, and gently placed you on your couch.

“Honey...what did you see?” he gently inquired.

Honey?

“All Might… you know you can’t save me from him. He finds me wherever you go. I’m cursed,” you mumbled. Your eyes were far away, glazed over.

“Don’t be silly. You’re probably just-”

“No. Don’t pretend like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I… I saw him in the store. When he looked at me, I saw it in his eyes. He recognized me, All Might. I know he did. Why else would he run away?”

He didn’t have an answer to that.

You couldn’t even cry anymore.

Instead, you just accepted your fate as another victim.

#allmight #yandere all might #yandere #yancore

[davidobitch]

Traditions | Timothee Chalamet

okay so I’m well aware I don’t ever write for Timothee Chalamet but I really wanted to write this and it didn’t seem fitting for anyone else I usually write about?? I hope you like it even though the timing is like...18 days late...oops

I didn’t proof read this so my apologies if it sounds like a 5th grader wrote it. 

anything written in italics is the past! enjoy xx

3 years. 156 weeks. 1,095 days.

That’s how long you’ve spent with Timothee. You love him with everything you have inside you but things haven’t been okay lately, not for the past year almost. Neither of you wanted this to be ‘right person, wrong time’. You both tried to fight for your relationship to work out and go back to how things used to be...but that was up until last month.

Timothee has been busy with his movies and you’ve been busy with your business. With the year coming to an end, you both and to get everything done before the new year. You tried not to think that this was the end. You kept telling yourself that it was only for this month then you and Timothee could go back to working everything out. But part of you knew that maybe this really was the end.

You were just getting home from a launch party when Timothee was getting ready to leave.

“Hi,” you said quietly, dropping your purse on the table, “Another shoot?” you kept your eyes on your boyfriend, watching him go over his mental checklist of everything he needed.

Timothee nodded his head, turning in circles looking for what was probably his keys. You glanced behind him, seeing them in the other room on the coffee table.

Passing by him, Timothee followed you with his eyes hoping you weren’t walking away from him without a goodbye. He heard his keys jingle in your shot and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, standing in front of you. His hand lingered on yours, letting his fingers trace your bones.

“Promise me you’ll be back tonight?” your stare was fixed on your intertwined hands, not wanting him to let go.

Timothee squeezed your hand before pulling away, “Of course. You know I’ll be here.”

You and Timothee always threw a New Years Eve party, it was something both of you looked forward to each year.

He gave you a quick kiss before leaving the house, letting silence seep through the walls. It hasn’t been long since you started staying at Timothee’s daily. It’s only been a year, if that, which ironically is when everything started going wrong in the relationship. Coincidence? Probably, but you refused to believe that. Most nights you couldn’t help but wonder if you moving in was the reason you guys started fighting almost weekly.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you started picking up around the place, wanting the house to be spotless by tonight.

You have sent Timothee countless texts reminding him what time people will be over and last minute things he needed to buy. It’s been three hours and you haven’t heard back from him. You assumed he was just getting caught up in shooting or discussing work stuff, but when another three hours passed by with no call or texts, you had a bad feeling he was bailing out tonight.

You texted Timmy again, another reminder of what time to be home and asking him to pick up the rest of the party stuff for you. You begged him not to be late tonight, or even just not show up at all. Time was slowly running out and you decided to just run out and buy everything yourself. On the verge of tears, you called Timothee and to your dismay...it went straight to voicemail. You tried holding in your cries as you left him yet another message, telling him tonight was make or break the relationship. It was either he shows up by midnight or you pack your bags tomorrow morning and move out. You didn’t care anymore as you let your feelings out fully for the first time in months.

You needed the drive home to clear your head and gather yourself before having to pretend your relationship is perfect.

It was just barely 9pm and you still had to hurry up and be ready by 10. You called a couple friends to come over early to help finish setting up so you can shower and look presentable.

“Thank you guys so much,” you said as you entered the kitchen where your friends were arranging the cups and drinks, “T’s been so caught up at work today. I just- I love you guys.”

“We love you of course,” your friend, Ashley says as she grabs a bottle of tequila and 3 glasses, “To a new year,” she says, raising her glass.

“To a new year,” you and your other friend say in unison.

The liquid burns as it travels down your throat, warming your entire body. You took another shot before going back to finish getting ready.

You picked out your best little black dress, wanting Timothee to see what he’s losing if he decides to not show up tonight. Your hair was curled, your face was glammed up, and you were ready to black out everything tonight.

You finished just in time for all your’s and Timothee’s friends to show up, letting the night begin.

You were about 5 tequila shots and 3 drinks in when the clock hit 11:45. You checked your phone seeing you had no calls or texts from your boyfriend. You were losing hope with every passing second and you didn’t care to hide it anymore.

You were on the balcony with your friends when your mouth started to ramble. “T isn’t coming tonight. Or at least I don’t think he is. He’s been gone for the past 15 hours and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking up tonight. Fuck we should’ve broken up a year ago. You know nothing has been the same since I moved in?” You took another drink before continuing, silently hoping your friends would cut you off any second now, “We haven’t had sex in god knows how long. I don’t get to see him for longer than 4 minutes a day. We tried so hard to make things work which was such a bullshit move.” You let out a shaky breath, knowing you were a couple words away from crying and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight. Finishing off your drink, you closed your eyes and let the night breeze calm you down.

“We see more than you think, y/n,” Ashley says, pouring half of her cup into yours, “We just don’t say anything. You know we love you and we will continue to support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“And don’t give up on Timmy not coming just yet. He still has 5 minutes!” you sip on your drink, trying to remain optimistic. Olivia’s right, he still has time..but if he hasn’t showed up in the past 5 hours, he’s not going to in the next 5 minutes.

“I really thought he was the one, y’know?” you mutter into your cup, watching the liquid swish from side to side.

Your friends wrap their arms around you, pulling you in for a group hug. “Come on, let’s do a couple shots before the ball drops.” Olivia pulls you back inside and to the kitchen, placing 2 shot glasses in front of each of you.

“Cheers to 2021. A year of new beginnings and more memories than we will remember!” Ashley yells, bringing her glass up.

11:58. You knocked one of the shots back, allowing it to fog your brain.

“Cheers to y/n, for being the toughest bitch we know,” Olivia shouts as she raises her glass, you and Ashlet following her actions.

11:59. Another shot down.

You glanced around the room as there was 30 seconds left in the year. No tall, lanky, brown haired boy in sight. You wanted to cry and scream and run out of the house but instead, you grabbed the bottle of vodka and made your way to the balcony.

You caught your friends attention, shaking your head as if to tell them you’re fine but not to follow you. The glass door slid shut behind you as everyone started counting down.

“10!”

“Kiss me tonight,” you boldly said to Timothee, “None of our friends are single. We’re the only losers who have nobody. So be my new year’s kiss.” The first new year’s eve you and Timmy spent together. Your first year of being friends.

“9!”

“Are you going to force me into kissing you again?” Timothee jokes as he comes up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink from scaring you.

“First of all, you can’t creep up on a girl like that!” you swatted at his chest before taking a sip of your drink, “Second of all, I didn’t force you to do anything.” Everyone around you was counting down, “Third of all,” just as the clock hit 12:00, you pulled Tim’s face to your level, gently pressing your lips to his, “absolutely.”

“8!”

You had spent the entire night by Timothee’s side. This was your first year spending New Years with just him and his hometown friends. You felt lost without your usual crew bullying you into kissing Timmy for another year. “What do you say we do this every year,” Timothee nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, placing light kisses on your skin.

You let out a giggle, confused at his choice of words, “T we do this every year already,” you turned around to face him, your hands playing with the bottom of his shirt.

“No I mean as a couple. I want you to be my girlfriend,”

“7!”

“I love you,” Timothee drunkenly yelled in your ear, causing a bright smile to spread across your face.

“You’re drunk, baby,” you rolled your eyes. Neither of you have said the L word before and this wasn’t the way you expected it to happen.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to spend another year not telling you every day.”

“6!”

“Timmy!” you yelled over the music, wrapping your arms around his waist, “You have 5 seconds to kiss me or I’m finding another boy!” you giggled as Timothee turned around in your arms, grabbing your face and pulling you into him just as the new year hit.

“5!”

You were crowded into a small corner of your friends kitchen, having been forced to spend the night with them instead of your boyfriend. Timothee was out in New York for a photoshoot and couldn’t make it home in time for your “tradition”.

“I wish you were here,” you mumbled, making a pouty face at your phone screen, “Now I have to kiss Ashley this year and that’s not fun!” You yelled, hoping she would hear you from across the way. You changed your camera to face here, showing Timothee her middle finger in the air, “See, she’s mean. And so are you for not being here.”

Your eyes wandered to the time on the stove clock, seeing as it just hit midnight.

“Happy new year, baby,” Timothee says. You look down at your phone screen to see the facetime was over. Confused as to how the call ended but you could still hear his voice, you glanced up at your friends to see them all staring at you with giddy smiles.

“Can you turn around and kiss me already?” Tears blurred your vision as you quickly spun around and jumped into your boyfriend’s arms.

“4!”

“Please please please don’t hate me,” Timothee says as he wraps his arms around you. “I didn’t realize the time and I know I fucked up, but you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, y/n” This was the first year he almost missed being your new year’s kiss and as much as you wanted to kill him for it, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” you said, shaking your head and pulling on his shirt, bringing his body into yours.

“3!”

Another shot in your system, trying to rid the memories of the past 7 New Year’s Eve nights. Your mind started playing games with you. Timothee’s voice was echoing all around you, like he was actually with you.

“2!”

“Baby,” you could hear Timmy say, but you tried to push it out of your thoughts. “Please don’t ignore me. I’m so fucking sorry,” You could smell his cologne behind you as a warm touch could be felt on your wrist. Your breath was shaky as you turned to face the man behind you, hoping this was reality and you weren’t drunkenly imagining this.

“1!”

“I’m here. I’m always going to be here. For the next whatever years, I’m 100% here. No more long days without you. No more missing date nights. This is my promise to you, y/n.” Timothee says, his eyes filled with liquid.

“Happy new year!”

You threw your arms around his neck, almost falling backwards as you crashed your lips into his. “I love you, forever.” you muttered against his lips, “Thank you, T.”

*****

“Why can’t we just spend this year at home with our friends like we always do?” you asked Timothee as he pulled you out onto the balcony with him. This year he took you to Paris for New Years Eve and as grateful as you were for this mini trip, you didn’t want to break tradition.

“Because like you said, we spend every year at home with our friends. It’s never been just us.”

Ever since he promised to put more time into the relationship, everything has been almost perfect. Of course you still had your occasional fight, but that’s to be expected and it was never over anything stupid. Well...most of the time.

“I guess it would be nice to spend it alone,” you leaned your head against Timothee’s chest as you took in the site in front of you.

The hotel room had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, dead center in front of you. You’ve seen the structure many times in the past but it was never this beautiful.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispers against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your hips.

You nodded but stayed silent, letting the music from inside fill the space around you. Timothee started to sway with you as your favorite song started to play in the background.

“I would love to assume it’s such a coincidence that Robbers is playing right now,” you smiled, teasing your boyfriend, “But I guess I should give you credit for planning this.”

Timothee takes your hand in his and spins you around into him as his other hand settles on your hip.

The two of you danced around the balcony together as your song went on and all of Paris could be heard counting down the end of the year.

“Last year I made you a promise to put more effort in. We had a hard year and I know I put you through a lot and I can’t apologize enough for that, baby. But here we are 365 days later, getting to have another new year’s kiss together. I thank you every day for forcing me to kiss you all those years ago ‘cause we both know I would have never had the balls to make the move.” Timothee’s voice was soft, barely even audible with all the other noise happening around you. “But a lot has changed since that first kiss. A lot between us but also with us separately. I never want to spend New Years, let alone any day, without you.” Timothee abruptly stopped moving and pulled away from you as fireworks were being set off all around the city. You pulled your eyes from him for a split second to watch the sky light up with different colors.

What you didn’t expect to see when you brought your attention back to him, was Timmy on one knee, with a ring being held up towards you.

“I’m making another promise to you, to love you forever, to always put you first. You’ve been my life for the past 6 years and even though we were together for only 4 of those years, I still couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. You’re my best friend. Mon amour. I want to spend every waking moment with you. I want you to yell at me when my socks are in random parts of the house. I want to have little mini versions of us running around and drawing on walls. When all my dreams come true, you’re the one I want next to me. It’s you, baby. It’s always been you. Marry me, y/n.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as you vigorously nodded your head. You didn’t give Timothee the chance to stand up before you fell to your knees in front of him, falling into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, T. You’re the only person I ever want to spend my life with. I love you so so much, mon amour.” You cried as you placed kisses all over his face.

#Timothy chalamet #Timothee chalamet imagine #tchal #tc #masterlist #prompt #imagine #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic

[lovelyirony]

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time. 

But people had been to see him. 

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.” 

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up. 

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that. 

“He’s...knocked out, still.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. 

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.” 

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.” 

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.” 

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.” 

Tony freezes. 

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant... 

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things: 

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married. 

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session. 

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation. 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him. 

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation. 

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...” 

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.” 

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows. 

-

So he doesn’t. 

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it. 

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.” 

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.” 

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.” 

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.” 

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.” 

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?” 

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling. 

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour. 

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.” 

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.) 

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin. 

- 

Jim doesn’t come down. 

Or he did, but he came down early. 

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony. 

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.” 

So Tony does. 

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really. 

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold. 

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life. 

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history. 

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?” 

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.” 

“Oh. So we just...I  fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence. 

“...weird.” 

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.” 

Jim looks up. 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.” 

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.” 

“Oh. Gross.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.” 

Jim laughs at that one. 

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?” 

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling. 

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.” 

Jim throws back his head and laughs. 

“How did we...how did we become friends?” 

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...” 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?” 

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together. 

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.” 

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says. 

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.” 

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?” 

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?” 

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that). 

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.” 

And Tony can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything. 

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

- 

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically. 

“You...what?” 

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.” 

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.” 

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.” 

“I’m in the army, right?” 

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.” 

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?” 

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.” 

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private. 

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing. 

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine. 

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. 

But that doesn’t mean...? 

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings. 

...would there be? 

“Hey Friday?” he asks. 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?” 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?” 

“Uh...sure. I guess.” 

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on. 

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events. 

- 

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it. 

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-” 

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.” 

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him. 

“What did you do to celebrate?” 

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.” 

“Someone was with me?” 

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.” 

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown. 

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.” 

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.” 

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?” 

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...” 

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.” 

“Who is he?” 

Tony grins. 

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.” 

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?” 

-

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet. 

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.” 

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks. 

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.” 

“He can think?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.” 

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.” 

Tony stills. 

“You...remember that?” 

Jim pauses for a moment. 

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.” 

Tony throws back his head and laughs. 

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?” 

“Water sounds fine.” 

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat. 

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over. 

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile. 

“Thanks Jim.” 

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.” 

Tony looks at him for a moment. 

“But is that what you want?” 

Jim pauses. 

“Yes. For now.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.” 

Jim nods. 

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.” 

-

He lies awake in bed that night. 

“Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?” 

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Are you being paid to say that?” 

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.” 

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.” 

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.” 

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.” 

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?” 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

- 

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath. 

Right there. 

Right on his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring. 

On the left hand. 

That wasn’t there before. 

Shit. 

#i'm going to post this on ao3 too #but hehe :) there is no resolve to this :) #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhodey #tony stark #also yeah :) the jim and rhodey dichotomy :) #pepper potts #you get no solution from this (for now) #tony is. suffering. #and rhodey? oh my dearest darling he's suffering but in a whole other way

[jadoue1999]

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll make sure of it) Chapter 3

Summary: Pietro wasn’t Pietro, who was he?

Previous parts: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, epilogue

Chapter 3: Bonding

Wanda tensed up when she heard him talk. Oleg never wore any helmets, a hat, sure but she had never seen him wear a helmet.

“Who are you?” She asked, sharply, pinning him tighter to the tree when he tried to leave.

“Name’s Peter,” he looked around seemingly looking for something. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, do you?”

Peter, not Pietro. It wasn’t him.

Of course, it wasn’t, she mentally smacked herself, it was too good to be true. She had ignored the signs, the differences, but there was no denying when it came directly from him. This man wasn’t her brother. Still, it wasn’t fair. All she wanted was to be happy, to have a family, but the universe seemed keen in making sure she’d never get a happy ending. She wanted to feel angry, to lash out, but she just felt... empty. She turned to the man, still immobilized, he was still waiting for an answer.

“Westview,” Wanda replied, “New Jersey.”

Peter nodded, obviously not understanding where the town was, but not having much choice but accept his predicament.

Wanda raised a hand, and let the illusion changing his clothes break. His runner costume gone, the man was wearing leather pants, a silver jacket with a band T-shirt. A Walkman was at his side, the headphones at his neck.

‘Weird, where did he even get a Walkman?’

She smirked at the goggles on his head, if he really had superspeed, he certainly had the right idea. Pietro had complained a lot about dirt and debris getting into his eyes, she had suggested a shield from her magic, but he said he’d find a solution eventually. She noticed with a sigh that his hair was back to silver, no more pretending now.

“How did you even get here?” The question came out harsher than she would have wanted. The man didn’t seem phased by it, he might have been used to someone in his entourage losing their temper. He simply shrugged and answered.

“I’m not really sure, I was in my room, deciding what to do about my father when a portal opened and suddenly, I’m in some freaky dungeon. There’s a lady talking about you getting desperate, next thing I know, I’m at your doorstep.”

It didn’t make sense, no one in Westview had a dungeon and sure, maybe she had wanted her brother back, but bringing in a stranger? He didn’t even look like Pietro, why did her magic took him, out of everyone else? She looked at the necklace in her hand, the magic wasn’t his, that was for certain. He had been under a spell, but why?

He should have had his role attributed to him when he came in the town, no need for any fancy jewelry. Speaking of, how could he stay himself right now? Why was he unaffected?

She waved her magic away, letting him go. He took a step forward and looked at her, probably wondering why she had just let him loose.

“Tell me about you, where are you from?” Wondered Wanda. He might not have been her brother, but she could still feel the connection. Apparently, so did he, because he sat down and cleared his throat.

“Well, I’m Peter, I grew up in America, with my mom and my,” he paused, “my younger sister, Lorna.” Wanda frowned, why had he hesitated just now? Peter continued his ramble, “when I was seventeen, three guys and I helped a known terrorist to break out of the pentagon, you know him as Magneto, but I figured out later that he was my father. I found him again 10 years later, but he had joined ranks with the god wanna be. He called himself Apocalypse. Took my dad in because he could control metal. Tried to tell him we were related, but I was too much of a loser so instead I tried taking on Apocalypse by myself, got my leg broken and I’ve been wondering how to tell him ever since. Oh, and I joined the X-Men.”

Wanda frowned once again; she hadn’t heard of any events that Peter described. Could it have happened while she was being experimented on? She had never encountered anyone named Magneto, or Apocalypse. And who were those X Men? Perhaps he meant Avengers? But those names wouldn’t easily get mixed up. The same unnerving feeling was creeping up on Wanda. The feeling he didn’t belong here, not just him not being her brother, there was something more. His life didn’t add up, nothing of it made sense. A few questions came to her mind, but she settled with the more urgent one.

“Who was the lady in the dungeon? If someone is trying to sabotage my life, I deserve to know who it is.”

Peter seemed lost in thoughts for a moment, before looking at her. “I’m sorry, I guess she used a trick on me because I know she’s a lady, but I can’t remember specifics details.”

Wanda sighed and pressed her face into her hands, why couldn’t she just live her life without someone ruining it. Chaos was the usual in her life, the moment she tried to settle down, a threat would rise and rip her loved ones away. She thought she would be safe in her own little town, but then the drone came, and now that lady who seemed determined to destroy her world.

“What happened to your brother?” The question took her by surprise. It was to be expected from him, he was, after all, brought in to replace Pietro. He had to be wondering why her actual brother couldn’t play the part. Peter cleared his throat, understanding of rude he sounded and opted for a not-a-care-in-the-world mannerisms. “I mean, I think I know, but I don’t want to assume and be rude. Hell, I have his memories, but I have no idea if what I’ve been shown is real. The lady that messed with my mind could have slipped stuff in, so I hurt you without wanting it.”

Wanda smiled, he might not have been her brother, but he did act a little like him. Pietro was very protective of her too, must have been an older brother thing. She too was protective, but her grief had kept her from really connecting with anyone.

‘Except with Vision and look where you ended up’ she shook away the thought. Those intrusive comments kept haunting her, why couldn’t she shake them away? She looked at her not brother, choosing to focus on him.

“He was a hero.” A dead hero. “We survived a bombing when we were ten and ended up on the wrong side. We saw the truth and saved the world.” Yet he lost his life. “He only had his powers for a few months, same as me. He wasn’t in total control of them. He saved a friend of mine and a child from being shot down, but he wasn’t quick enough.”

Peter looked at her with sympathy in his eyes, he slowly put a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to help her. “I uh, I know it’s not the same thing, but I’ve been struggling with telling my true lineage to my father. I thought it was only my truth but it’s apparently true for all speedsters. I’ve noticed that for people as fast as us, we always seem to be too late.” They both chuckled, sadly. He removed his hand from her shoulder and gripped her hand instead.

“You know, I didn’t even get to attend his funeral,” Wanda said, grief dripping from her words. “I’m part of a superhero group, the Avengers. There was always something happening, I never took the time to grieve him properly.”

“I- I’m a twin as well,” confessed Peter. Wanda looked at him in shook, was that why he hesitated when he described his family life? He squeezed her hand, clearly this was a painful memory. “She died. She wasn’t shot or anything, it happened when we were 15. She uh, she had probability powers,” Wanda frowned at that power, she had never heard of it. “She could sway the odds in her favor, if that makes it any clearer.” Peter chuckled, “she would use it to make sure we never missed the bus, or that she’d pass a test she wasn’t sure she had studied enough. We’re not sure what happened, no one was there with her. I was running, when I just felt it, you know? Like a bond just breaking and next thing I know I’m passed out and my mom keeps calling my name.”

“What’s your name? Your full name?” Urged Wanda. They were too similar, there had to be a reason for it. She had felt the same way when Pietro died, like a piece of herself was ripped away, leaving a bloody mess in its wake.

 “Peter Maximoff”

Notes: Sorry it ended like this, the chapter was originally 2500 words so I split it in two where it fitted best, I hope you like this!

Don’t for get to like and comment if you enjoyed it!

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda and pietro #wandavision spoilers #wandavision fanfic #wandavision fix it #pietro maximoff #pietro is peter #peter maximoff #Vision #Elizabeth Olsen #Evan Peters #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #paul bettany #x men #x men quicksilver #x men universe #marvel #marvel fanfiction