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shrekgogurt · 29 days

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

Thanks for the tags @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian !!!!

🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

For the sake of this endeavor I’m gonna focus on I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man which is also more affectionately referred to as IKABIKAM, eyecab eyecam, 👁️🚕👁️📸, etc.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Natasha as like a vaguely Margaret Thatcher figure but she was in office in the late 90s not the 80s don’t think about it too hard okay the exact policy/praxis doesn’t matter so much as the ideology/vibes/dynamic + Davy (The Mage) as like a fucked up Welsh caricature (of his own design) because he’s overcompensating and has the media literacy of the worst film bro you’ve ever had the misfortune of talking to = their sons falling in love through football/soccer against all odds as juxtaposed between childhood and adulthood.

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Trauma

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Solsbury Hill for obvious reasons

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

This one :-)

💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Okay, I’m usually absolute ass at naming files in any helpful fashion but this project is so organized on Google Docs. My notes app is a different story. Those don’t even have titles. I just launch into my whims as they come.

Most interesting answer I can give is that the folder containing all my fic documents is titled “kill the part that cringes.”

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Listen, I warned y’all.

To be in love with Simon Snow—a life sentence, an encyclopedia of grief.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the original musings of IKABIKAM—titled Scarborough Fair as the club was gonna be in Scarborough—Simon was Irish rather than Welsh and raised by Ruth. I know. Wild to think about now. But it’s true. And then I did some excavating on canon and the story we have today was born. Lost to time (the original idea of this fic which was actually two fics) is a whole very fun scene. I had planned that after the international break match against other, Simon convinced Baz to go out on the town with him. I wrote this snippet back then. It didn’t make the cut for obvious reasons and honestly I don’t know how much I stand by the characterization. Or the prose. Everything about IKABIKAM is better to me but this sexy little number deserves the people’s attention. I’m slightly concerned it’s offensive.

They’re playing INDUSTRY BABY in this club right now? I’m not dancing with Simon Snow to a Lil Nas X song. That music video…I’m only a man. I’m also not exactly sober. I will not risk a Snow relapse. Besides, Snow himself just downed the rest of his drink.

He leans toward me to say something. With the combination of his drunkenness and his accent I can barely make out his words, “eye gahta gohbakta da barrr.” (Translation: I’ve got to go back to the bar.) He really doesn’t.

I pluck the glass from his hand, “this last one is on me.”

He goofily smiles. His head is drooping to the side and his eyes are half-lidded. It would be adorable if I wasn’t worried about him falling over. I scan the room. One of the other Irish players is nearby. I hook Snow’s arm in mine (both my hands are full!) and drag him towards his teammate. He stumbles behind me looking completely blissed out.

I tap the other player on his shoulder. Clancy I think? The left winger. “Hey, I’m going to force Snow home so he can avoid a stomach pump. Could you make sure he doesn’t wander off while I close out my tab?”

He nods. I throw Snow at him and maneuver through the crowd up to the bar. It’s packed. I finish my own drink before I can push an opening to order. The bartender nods at me. She looks worn out from the night. I don’t blame her.

“Soda water with lime please.”

“Sure. What’s the name on the tab?”

“Grimm-Pitch. Could you close it?”

She nods and turns on her heel. A minute or so later she returns with the drink and my card. I take them.

“Is there any chance I could close out my mate’s tab too. He’s pissed.” I gesture back at the direction of Snow and Clancy. A circle of women have surrounded them. Honestly, fair.

The bartender gives me a wary eye. “What’s the name?”

“Snow.”

“Snow? Like the footballer Simon Snow over there?” She points at Simon.

I nod. The bartender scoffs, “Sure I’ll give Simon Snow’s card to some random Englishman.”

Random Englishman? Am I really going to have to do you know who I am this woman? I go for a subtle approach and just sort of lift an eyebrow and draw attention to the name on my own card: Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The realization hits her. I was afraid I would have to tie my hair up.

“Oh shit. Fuck you’re Baz Pitch.” She stares at me. I hold out my hand. “Right, the card!” She hands me Snow’s card.

I nod, “Alright. Thanks.”

She shakes her head at me, “No, sorry for the hassle. Have a good night English…defensive midfielder…Baz Pitch.” She says my name with a laugh like she’s awestruck I’m in this Dublin nightclub (fair), “and thanks for the win today!”

I’m beyond tired of hearing that line.

When I return Snow is having the time of his life: posted up surrounded by ladies singing along to Ayyy Ladies. They’re not being subtle in their flirting. (Again, fair. Good for them.) Snow is incredibly respectful despite being off his face. Good lad. He’s still far too drunk to consent to anything so I don’t feel terribly guilty for pulling him away from the grind fest.

When he sees me approach he lights up, “Baz!” His arms fly open. “Took you long enough.”

I hand him his drink. There is a blonde woman dancing on him. She throws her arms around his neck. He knocks back the drink and chugs it in one go. A little water dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. It catches on his bottom lip. He hasn’t looked away from me once. And this fucking song…

“When I hit it from the back, don't fuss, don't fight

When I put it in ya mouth, don't scratch, don't bite”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He hands me back the glass, “That drink was awful. What was it?” His speech is a little less slurred than before.

“Water. I’m taking you home.”

He blushes, “What?”

“You’re plastered. So, you should get sick in your own loo rather than on this lovely woman,” I give the blonde a wink. She dances away.

I’m pretty sure tabs aren’t even really that much of a thing in Ireland. And like…I don’t think you can close them out for someone else. So like. I don’t know what the fuck I was on while writing that. Obviously not Google.com, or reality. But most of all I was absolutely jump-scared reading that back and discovering I was gonna make Baz a defensive midfielder? WTF!?

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

A hockey one-shot. Whenever it happens the chirps are gonna be out of this world.

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

One in a way that’s meaningful. Maybe two. It’s a fresh thing.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

The chapter is really expositional in an isolated way and so I have to backtrack for context without being boring.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Blessed beyond belief.

Now tagging @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @thewholelemon @valeffelees @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe omg and @emeryhall tell me everything

#ikabikam #bonus content

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odiesdayoff · 1 year

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Studying Pays Off

pair: edward nashton (professor!) x fem!reader (student but also not)

summary: Edward Nashton’s a tough professor, but you’re up for the challenge.

warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18++++); oral sex (f. receiving); questionable student/teacher relationship (they are but they aren’t); age gap

slay. I’ve been posting this series on AO3 and decided to take it to my tumblr as well :)

part two

You heard horror stories about Professor Nashton. One of the two professors that taught advanced forensic accounting, a class that you needed to take for your major. Professor Ives was kind and very generous with extra credit. Unfortunately, the only class that you could take that fit into your schedule wasn’t with Professor Ives.

Most people complained about his lectures, usually long and boring and full of riddles that didn’t have much to do with the actual subject. He was strict about grading and the smallest error in a project might turn your A into a B. Unfortunately, you weren’t an exception to the normal borderline failing student that became the norm.

The thirty seconds that you stood outside of his room, too nervous to start your office hour session with him, felt like an eternity. It was common knowledge that nobody dared trying to go to his office hours. Students were too afraid to get on his bad side to even attempt to ask questions about the lecture. You were different, though. You were determined to get at least a B- in this class even if it meant spending an awkward few minutes with the man.

He didn’t look at you as you walked in and took your seat on the other side of the desk. You clutched your binder close to your chest, sheets upon sheets of printed-out homework and projects thickening it. You wrote your own notes over and around the notes that he gave you. You practiced everything that you wanted to talk to him about.

He wrote the grade with a large red marker on someone’s project. D. You hoped that it wasn’t yours. “I don’t offer extra credit if that’s what you came here for. And I will not be bribed by any means,” He flipped the stack of papers over, pushing them to the side and finally looking up at you. For a moment, you wondered what students might have tried to use to bribe him.

“That…That’s not what I’m here for, sir. I wanted to discuss the last project and what I could do better for the next time,” You opened your binder and nervously pulled the stapled stack of paper with a marked B- on the top out of the front fold. You offered the paper to him and he took it.

That project, in particular, getting a report from some made-up company and logging their accounts as well as any discrepancies, didn’t seem too difficult for you. You finished it with time to spare and found nothing wrong when you went over it, yet you barely passed. You began to wonder if you were doing everything wrong and you were in the wrong field.

He flipped through the pages faster than any person could possibly be looking at the content. You sat quietly, hoping that your breathing didn’t disturb his work. “While there aren’t many mistakes, the ones that you did make were those that should have been eradicated in basic accounting. It might be a problem with you rather than this individual project.” His facial features were soft, but that didn’t seem to translate to his harsh personality.

Your breathing halted, maybe you should have listened when you were told to avoid going to his office hours. Was he calling you stupid? “I’ve never had a problem before this class. Is there anything that I can do about that?” The voice in your head wanted to lean over the desk and slap the shit out of the man, but you knew that it would only make things worse for you. His words would get to you tonight when you were able to cry about it if you needed.

“I can’t fix what was broken from the start, I’m afraid,” he handed the stack of papers back to you and you took them with a shaky hand. At this point, you weren’t sure if the shaking came from anger or you fighting back the urge to cry. Your life’s passion, the one thing you were sure that you excelled at, he was telling you that you never had a chance. What an asshole.

You looked down at the papers in your lap, “Is there… any way to improve in this class? Even with my…problems?” You weren’t sure why this was such a blow to your self-confidence. You’ve had much worse said to you by your parents when you told them that you wanted to go into accounting. You nearly failed geometry and their hope for you fell down the drain.

He sighed as if this wasn’t literally the job that he signed up to do for a living. “Unless you want to dedicate your time to coming to my office hours every single time there’s an assignment to go over things, I suggest you drop the class before it affects your GPA too much,” He looked at someone else’s project and shook his head. It was like you weren’t even there.

And that’s exactly what you did for the rest of the semester. From the time that he started his office hours to when he kicked you out, you worked on your assignments. Maybe you were a bit delusional, but you started to wonder if he was finally warming up to you. Your grades definitely reflected a more positive relationship with the man. You were probably the only person in the class that had an A by December.

The final was in two days and you were still committing to your office hour sessions with Professor Nashton. “You intrigue me, Y/n,” He spoke out of the blue.

You looked up from your papers, “How so?”

He leaned back into his chair. It squeaked slightly, “Most students just give up after that first office hour visit. They…curse me out and then drop a shitty rate my professor review. But not you, Y/n.” He spoke along with his hands, “You never let me spend a class or office hour alone.”

“It definitely paid off. I think I’m one of the only people not either failing or borderline failing. Why do you grade like that?” You’ve been meaning to ask that question for so long, but it never seemed right. Now that you two felt like somewhat friends and he was getting personal, maybe he would find out.

He bit his lip, “This subject relies on precision. One mistake could jail an innocent person or let a guilty one roam free. Forensic accountants are crucial and perhaps the foundation of the justice system. Financially, that is. If I start my students with a work ethic that relies strongly on attention to detail and little mistakes, justice will be served in the future. Most of them just don’t want to work hard.”

You nodded along. You agreed with him to a point but thought that he should have been a bit less harsh in the way that he conducts this message. “That…actually makes a lot of sense. Maybe you should say that at the beginning of the semester,” You suggested.

He shook his head, “If they didn’t try before, it’s not going to make them suddenly start. Most people at this school are privileged little fucks that’ll go into their daddy’s firm once they graduate. Pardon my French. People like us work for our success.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Gotham University was built on nepotism and will always be that way, it seemed.

~~~

The final wasn’t bad, just as you had expected. It was exactly what you studied and discussed with the professor, so you were pretty sure that you got a decent grade. The other students filtered out of the classroom as soon as they wrote down their final number and rejoiced in their winter break starting. Once the last person left, you took the opportunity to talk to Professor Nashton one last time.

“How was it?” He asked, sorting through the stacks of finished tests all over his desk.

You shrugged, “It was good. Not to brag, but I think I got an almost perfect score.” This earned you a smile from him. You took a deep breath and adjusted your bag on your shoulder, “Now that we’re not technically student and teacher anymore, I wanted to let you know that I really enjoy talking with you. I work at this little diner by the Iceberg Lounge and if you’re ever in the area, you’re free to stop by. I’ll even throw in a free coffee and slice of pumpkin pie.”

“That’s very generous of you, Y/n. I’ll keep that in mind,” You had your suspicions that he was only saying that to be polite, but a small part of you wanted to see him again. Seeing him in a less professional setting and without the big label of instructor might do him some good.

Your winter break was uneventful. You worked, occasionally spent time with your friends, and avoided your family’s judgment throughout the holiday season. It wasn’t until the second week of January that things got interesting again.

Working at a 24-hour diner meant that you had to be available for work at all times of the day. You drew the short straw and found yourself behind the counter, completely void of co-workers and customers, at 2 in the morning on a Wednesday. You were halfway through Pride and Prejudice when you were startled by the doorbell.

Standing in the doorway was him. Your former professor in a large raincoat and informal wear. “What are you doing here so late?” You asked, smirking. You were relieved to have someone to talk to other than yourself and that he wasn’t some random creep.

“I could ask you the same thing. I couldn’t sleep,” He sat on one of the barstools and you turned on the coffee machine. If it were anyone else, you would’ve served the stale, hours-old coffee.

“What does your spouse think of your late-night diner runs?” You took a relatively hot slice of pie and placed it in front of him with a fork.

He took a bite of the pie, “Not married.”

You raised a brow, “I can’t imagine why not. You’re smart, attractive, and literally a tenured professor at an esteemed university.” You turned to grab a cup for the coffee.

Edward paused and looked up from his pie, “You of all people should not be saying that I’m attractive.”

“Why? Because you’re older than me?” You snorted.

“Because you’re beautiful. And frankly, I feel guilty even saying that.”

You poured the coffee in silence and placed it in front of him. He found you attractive. Now that there was no formal rule that could get him fired, you had all the opportunity in the world to mess with him. And by mess with him, you really just want to jump his arrogant bones.

“Are you sure that pie’s the only thing in here you wanna eat?” You put on your best seductive voice, making him slightly choke on his coffee. He glared at you, “Oh, come on. We’re not limited to roles anymore. We’re just two adults that know each other from university.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I’ve shamefully thought about it before. It’s just-”

“Just nothing! I’m offering to get on this counter, lift my skirt up, and let you eat me out. Yes or no?”

He sat in silence for a second, staring. The gears in his brain were turning. He grabbed the plate and the cup and pushed them to the side, “Get up.”

This was a first for you. Sex with a professor and doing it at work. Despite it all, you sat up on the counter and showed yourself to him. He stared for a moment, nervous, before hooking his arms under your legs and diving in.

Other than the buzzing of the various machines in the diner, the only noises in the room were of Edward licking and the moans that you held back. You didn’t expect him to be that good, no man ever was when it came to oral. He found your clit after a few seconds and began to suck on it, not giving you a chance to register the sudden rush of pleasure.

“Fuck!” You moved your hand on the counter, accidentally swiping the coffee cup off. It shattered, but Edward didn’t look up or stop. It wasn’t like you were going to stop and clean it up now, anyway.

“Y/n, you taste so good,” He whispered into your pussy. You grabbed his hair and twirled it with your fingers.

He pushed two fingers into you and you felt the pleasure fully begin to coil in your stomach. You moaned and tugged on his hair. That only made him go faster.

With Edward relentlessly pleasuring you, it took not long for you to see stars. The walls were not soundproof and you had forgotten if they had security cameras or not, but that didn’t stop you from calling out his name as you came around his fingers.

He finally looked up at you with a goofy smile on his face. Your face was flushed and your chest noticeably rose and fell. Now, you were more confused that he wasn’t married. “How was that?”

#the riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #studying pays off

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labarboteuse · 2 years

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Hold my girl

Mickey « Fanboy » Garcia x f!reader

Summary: Mickey thinks he has been neglected by his fiancée.

Warning: Way too much fluff, but eh he fucking deserves it

This imagine came to me while listening to Keywest's cover of George Ezra's Hold My Girl. I really like his cover and George Ezra's acoustic version, I wrote while listening to it so they lend themselves equally well to listening while reading!I couldn't do something so cute and dripping with love with any other character but Mickey, yes I'm guilty, I love him way too much and Danny deserves a lot of love. 😭

Leaning against the bed headboard, her computer resting on her thighs, her legs stretched out and crossed over the sheets, she was writing the speech that she would have to give to her colleagues in the coming days. She was on edge, she was probably gambling her career with this project and everything had to be perfect.

Footsteps were heard on the stairs and Mickey appeared by the door, she felt the mattress sagging next to her, coming to lie beside her, leaning on his elbow, he observed his fiancée without saying anything, a smile emerging at the corner of his lips, he found her particularly attractive when she was focused. Not looking away from her screen, the words flying on the document, Mickey took support on his hands to hoist himself towards her and deposit a kiss on her cheek, what made her smile and she finally took the time to allow herself a quarter of pause. She saved her document and turned her head toward him.

"Madam the business woman would honor me of one moment of attention? " Said he, passing his hand in her hair then slipping it on her nape and depositing a new kiss on her temple.

"You have my full attention." She closed her eyes under the pleasant effect of his hand in her hair.

"For how long?"

"Just a minute."

This elicited a small laugh from the pilot. "You really honor me."

She opened her eyes again and leaned her head against the headboard, giving him a small sorry smile.

"I have to finish this, it's -"

"Very important. I know it." He finished in her seat. "But honey, you've been spending your evenings on this for two days. I know what it means to you and your career, but it's been two days since you gave me any attention. I'm going to end up thinking you don't care about me." He joked by addressing her a look of sadden puppy what had the merit to make her gently laugh.

"I'm sorry, I got caught up in it and I'm so afraid I'm not going to make it, so I'm just tweaking everything."

"No matter what you say, it's bound to be perfect. As always, you wouldn't be where you are today without it. They're lucky to have you, they know that, and they'll have no choice but to trust you with the project, because you'll be the only one to make a fucking success of it."

She bit her lower lip to prevent a huge smile from forming on her face. She had been very lucky to meet Mickey, he had always been very supportive of everything she did and he was indeed her first fan, certainly the only one too. Just as she was his. Their relationship was based on a mutual encouragement and respect that would have made them both lift mountains.

With one hand he closed the screen of her computer and came to put his lips on hers and she started to laugh.

"You were too optimistic Garcia." She opened her computer again and he grumbled as he stepped away from her.

"Let me finish, I promise you that from tomorrow you will be the only object of my attention."

"Tomorrow is a long way off." He grumbled like a child who has been told no.

He leaned over again and kissed her shoulder before getting up from the bed and leaving the room. She went back to work, trying to regain her concentration. A few minutes passed before the first notes of a song began to sound from the living room. She smiled at her screen, knowing the song all too well. Footsteps were heard again and Mickey came to stand on the other side of the bed where he knelt beside her removing the computer from her legs, she did not even try to protest this time.

"Give me a minute to hold my girl." He said, her heart melted completely as he took her hands at the same time, she then slid off the bed and he straightened up, he then drew her against him, putting one arm around her waist, one hand behind her back, the other on her hips. She slipped her arms around his neck, their faces being only a few inches one of the other, he posed his forehead against hers, guiding her to the rhythm of the melody. It was on this song that he had invited her to dance for the first time, after which they had never left each other and this song had become theirs. Her hand slipped into his neck and then into his hair, closing her eyes, both enjoying the moment without saying anything. She decided to let go and leave this speech behind her, at least until the next day. Because no matter what she might say or what might happen, she could do anything with a man as supportive as Mickey by her side. Because that's what love is, supporting each other in every moment and it's without any hesitation that she would accept it at the altar soon.

#fanboy x reader #mickey garcia #mickey garcia x reader #top gun #top gun maverick

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lonelywhalien22 · 1 year

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take a break

pairing: seonghwa x reader

rating/genre: fluff, college/school/work au

summary: a warm cup of tea and a break with Seonghwa is just what you need when work becomes overwhelming.

warnings: stress, anxiety, kissing

word count: 1k

song(s) to listen while reading: stone by alessia cara

note: sharing this piece I wrote when college was running me ragged (regular occurrence). I always imagined Seonghwa while writing it for some reason so I hope you enjoy!

You sit at your laptop for the millionth time today, having hopped out of the shower but still in no better of a mood, and certainly not excited to get back to your work. You came over to stay with your boyfriend Seonghwa at his place for the night, promising that you just wanted to finish up one assignment before the two of you could spend the evening together. But after discovering a project deadline that had completely flew under your radar you switched into panic mode. Half an hour turned into two hours and you still didn't see an end to the work in sight. Huffing in frustration, a pout on your face, you think about when the semester will finally be over. A sudden clink sound startles you as a mug of warm tea slides into your view.

"Long day?" you hear Seonghwa say as he gives you a soft smile while pulling a chair up behind you to sit down. He sits on it backwards, so that his front is facing the chair's back and his legs split off onto the chair's sides. You give a sheepish smile at him before looking back towards your laptop on his desk, fingers curling around the warm ceramic as you grab the mug thankfully.

"Yeah. I've just been struggling with this assignment all day and still haven't gotten it done. And now I just feel like I'm falling behind on everything else…I'm just so mentally over it, you know?" As you say the words you still can't look at him directly, afraid that you'll cry if you do. Seonghwa just hums softly, reaching forward to rub your arms slowly before eventually wrapping them around your upper body completely. He scoots his chair closer, laying his head on your shoulder as he stares at your laptop screen for a moment before shifting his attention to your pitiful expression.

"I know you put a lot of pressure on yourself sometimes," Seonghwa starts tentatively, "but you know you don't have to finish everything tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know but it's just so hard to let it go sometimes. I'm just gonna keep thinking about it all night and then tomorrow I'll have to deal with it, which will put me behind on this other project that I haven't even started and I don't even know what I'm doing for that yet and-" Seonghwa sees your spiraling before you can catch it yourself and promptly leans in front of you, kissing the corner of your lips in a swift motion and immediately shutting you up.

"Hey, slow down y/n. Just take it one thing at a time, ok?" he says gently as he takes your chair and rotates it around to face him completely. It's the first time you've taken a moment to look at him fully this evening. His black hair is slightly falling into his eyes from the shower he just took and you finally rest your eyes on his dark orbs. Seonghwa gives you a knowing smirk then, fully aware he has you completely under his trance. This is the exact reason you still shy at looking him directly in the eyes. It feels so intimate and everything's still so new. You still feel those little somersaults in your stomach every time he looks at you.

"How about...you enjoy the tea I made, and give yourself till midnight to work, hm?" Seonghwa's sweet smile returns, giving you a little bit of a break from his charms. "Then promise me you'll stop and come to bed. You can't do any work tomorrow if you're tired either." Finally breaking away from his gaze, you sigh and look down.

"I know, I know…I'll stop at midnight. And I'm sorry I ruined the evening. We were supposed to hang out," you say regretfully. Taking this short break made you realize how much your original plans for coming over had changed. Seonghwa had welcomed you into his place and let you get changed and work undisturbed for hours. Now when you really thought about it you felt guilty.

"You didn't ruin anything, y/n. I'm just happy you came over."

Seonghwa's finger goes under your chin and pulls it back up to face him. He pauses and stares at you for a second, the gears clearly turning in his head before he decides to slowly lean forward and close his eyes, giving you a chance to pull away or stop him if it's too much. But instead you take a breath and close your eyes, staying still, your heart thumping in your chest as Seonghwa tilts his head slightly and finally pushes his lips against yours, pillowy soft and warm. You sigh softly, releasing the breath you've been holding in as his hand reaches for the side of your face, his thumb rubbing across your cheek repetitively. He starts to move his lips slightly, and you follow carefully, caught in his spell. Your hand even begins to creep up his chest slowly, getting caught up in the moment. You feel him smile slightly against your lips, then groan a little as he slows down before completely stopping, pulling away slightly. He stays close though, your noses still touching. You look up at him, eyes wide as you question:

"Did I do something wrong or…?"

"No! No, definitely not. That was amazing," Seonghwa says quickly, rubbing your arm again soothingly, clearly alarmed that you got the wrong idea. "I just...I just don't wanna distract you from your work. But I'm really glad you're feeling more comfortable around me. I know you still get nervous sometimes and I just want to be a source of comfort for you. I hate seeing you stressed."

You can't help but smile shyly at his words. Just being around Seonghwa instantly made you feel calmer. Taking a moment to gather your courage, you nod your head in reassurance to yourself before quickly leaning in and pecking his lips again. You grab his hand, running over it with your thumb. "Thank you. Really. I appreciate you so much."

Now it's his turn to look shocked. Seonghwa quickly gets out of it though, shaking his head a little playfully as he says, "of course. I'll see you in a little bit, ok?"

"Yeah, I'll see you."

#ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x reader

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where-pain-is-so-pretty · 5 months

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The Stars In Your Eyes

Pairing: Olli x Reader

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1,443 Notes:

This is the first full fic I wrote since Feburary It's rather short and surely not my best work but I'm still proud of myself for finishing it. Also, I'm grateful to be part of this fandom project, thank you for the opportunity and thx for kinda getting me back into writing <3 Can't wait to see what you all came up with!)

"Let's go home." you are already half asleep when you hear your boyfriend's suggestions. His hand softly caresses your arm to wake you up, and when you feel him kiss the top of your hair you force yourself to open your tired eyes.

You had spent the night at Niko's place with some friends, eating dinner, drinking wine, and sharing old and new stories. And you would have loved to take part in the conversations for longer but at some point sleep had taken over, turning your brain into much, and working too slowly to form a coherent sentence or understand references. Olli had noticed half an hour ago and suggested going home but you had shrugged it off, he was deep into a conversation with Joonas and you were cuddled to his side, your head resting on his shoulder. You listened to their nerd talk about guitar pedals and tunings, none of their words reached your brain but you found comfort in Olli's voice and his calming presence made you feel safe. So, you didn't fight it when your heavy eyes closed on their own accord.

You nod as an answer, throwing Joonas, across from you an apologetic look. Olli takes the last gulp of red wine from his glass before standing up and offering you a hand, which you accept gladly. Your bones are heavy and your head is drowsy with sleep. You said your goodbyes to the remaining guests and slipped into your coats before stepping outside. The nightly air is crispy and you press yourself closer to Olli, who has wrapped an arm around you.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you,". The cold brought your mind back to life, and you wished you could have stayed for longer but every cell in your body was screaming for sleep now. "Don't be, I'm pretty tired as well.", he remarks in a soft voice. You are about to make a joke about him being always tired but that is when something else catches your attention. The bright Christmas decorations of the mall across from you. Fairy lights in different colors, blinking snowflakes and stars. Stars. You stop in your tracks and raise your head to the sky. A hollow feeling builds in your chest when you a greeted by an empty yellowish-grey canvas instead of a sky full of twinkling stars. Sometimes you forget you moved into the city. "What's wrong, love?" your boyfriend asks beside you, slipping his hand into yours. "No stars," you reply and the realization leaves you empty for a moment." Olli squeezes your hand tighter. "It's sad that they are completely swallowed by light pollution." You nod, agreeing with his statement, and start to walk on again silently.

Olli and you had moved to Helsinki two months ago, leaving your small hometowns hadn't been easy for either of you but in the long term you both knew it was the right decision. No long train or car rides to see each other, no stressful travel days for him to meet with his band or to travel abroad. Also, almost all your friends lived around here and the city had already become a second home for the two of you. And with Olli by your side, starting a new life had been quite the opposite of being difficult or scary. He was the love of your life after all and waking up next to him every morning was worth all the trouble you had to face while moving.

In the past weeks you hadn't had much time to miss your old town, you had been too busy with your new job, building your home, exploring the city, and settling in. But thinking about it now, you mostly missed the small things about living in the countryside, like taking a walk through the forest nearby, passing cows on your way home, petting stray cats, and gazing at the night sky after a long shift or night out.

It's a few meters away from your apartment building when you break the silence: "You know, this might sound silly, but I really miss seeing the stars every night, they somehow always grounded me."

"It's not silly, babe. I miss them too." Olli kisses your cheek, it's a quick peck but you still can feel his beard rub against your soft skin.

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

It's the next Friday when you come home to Olli already awaiting you at the door. He has a mischievous grin on his lips and his eyes sparkle when he takes your coat off. "What's up with you?" you ask him lifting one of your brows as you examine him. "Nothiiiing." You know by the tone of his voice and the gleaming in his blue eyes he's lying, but you still greet him with a kiss. His smile is even wider when you part. "Oh, what have you done this time?". You are sure this is going to be one of his surprises and you can't help but find it cute how badly he always fails to hide his own excitement. "No more questions. Come change, then follow me to the bedroom to find out yourself." He hands you over a pile of clothes. You take them but not without studying each piece, in hopes of finding a clue. It's one of his hoodies (you stole it months ago so it's officially yours now) a pair of sweatpants and a pair of fluffy socks. The usual comfy clothes you wear around the house. You change quickly, now fueled by excitement yourself and eager to find out what your boyfriend has set up in your bedroom. Olli can't help but follow your every move, his gaze lingering on you when you are stripped down to your underwear. "So, is it something kinky?" you ask, assuming by the way he looks at you. "No, not this time."

Once you are fully dressed he offers you his hand to lead you to the bedroom, he stops right in front of the door. "Close your eyes!" By now you are used to his little game, so you comply and close your eyes shut. You know how much effort he puts into these surprises and you love him a little more each time. And even though you don't know what he has come up with this time, you are already sure you are going to love it.

He opens the door for you and leads you through it, stopping behind you. He's still holding your hand when you hear his low voice close to your ear. "Open your eyes, love." (In another scenario, it wouldn't have sent more than a shiver down your spine.)

When you open your eyes you can't quite believe what you are seeing. Your shared bedroom is illuminated in violet light, coming from a small projector on Ollis's bedside table. It displays a galaxy and stars on your ceiling. And for a second you lose yourself in the soothing movements of the twinkling stars and waves the projector paints onto your walls. Then you take a closer look around. There is a fuming cup of tea and a bowl of snacks on your nightstand, next to a small bouquet of favorite flowers. On the wall right above your bed, are more stars, glow-in-the-dark stickers, in different shapes and sizes. You follow their trail from the headboard up to the ceiling and now you see them between the lights too. It must have taken hours to put these on your walls. And your bedding now matched the galaxy theme of the room as well.

"What do you think?" Olli is standing in front of the bed now, fumbling with his hands and you can see the light of the projector reflecting in his eyes. You haven't said anything since you entered the room, he had left you speechless once again. And there wasn't much you could respond with other than: "I love you!" and pulling him into a tight hug. You can feel a happy giggle resonate from his chest as he holds you close. "I'm glad you like it. It's not the real stars, you know...but I tried" he said letting go of you. "Don't be so modest! You outdid yourself!" Even in the dim light of the projector, you can see the red in his cheeks. You pull him close again, this time for a kiss. A kiss that tells him everything you can't find the words for right now.

"Wanna gaze at the stars together?" "Nothing more than that!", you softly push him onto the bed and let yourself fall into the sheets next to him.

#olli matela #olli matela x reader #blind channel x reader #blind channel rpf

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mad-who-ra · 2 years

Text

All The Love We Lost

Ram Charan x Reader

Angst ending with fluff. It was @rishi-sita 's prompt. Blame her issues for the angst. She wanted to cry, so, i hope this makes you cry, Sita.

Rishita’s song rec:

This goes without saying, but obviously no disrespect to his wife

Word count : 1677

...

“No, I am not doing this.”

“But, Y/N, this is an impo-”

“I am not doing any interviews, Prerna.” I told my publicist, to which she responded with a quick okay and hung up. I sunk deeper into the couch, mindlessly going through the channels on the tv. I switched off my phone, throwing it to a side. No more calls for today. No more tweets or emails or texts about how good the song is doing. I wanted to hear nothing about it.

I settled on some random movie. The talk of the song kept echoing in my head.

Is the song about him?

Of course it is about Charan. Listen to the lyrics.

Y/N is not doing as great as we thought. Her latest song is the proof.

I shook my head, trying to block my thoughts. But his face kept flashing in front of my eyes. It was over. It was my past. He never loved me. It was all a PR stunt. He lied to me for months. He sweet talked me into believing that he really like me. That he really cared. When all of it was an orchestrated drama.

If I hadn’t seen the message from his publicist flashing on his phone, saying “It’s done. You can break things off with Y/N now.” I would have never guessed that it was all an act. He really was a very good actor, wasn’t he? Of course he needed some damage control after his last failed relationship. He needed someone to show his caring side to the world again after the ugly drama. Of course I was the perfect target.

I wondered if he was ever gonna tell me. Maybe he would have waited till I was so completely drowned. Till the point where I could barely breath without him to tell me the truth. Maybe he thought it was all very fun. A stupid poet falling for him. Maybe it was amusing to string my heart along and see how far I would go.

Tears slid down my cheeks hot and raw as I clutched the tv remote in my fist a bit too tightly. Months after the breakup, and I was still here. I was still bitter and I still loved him. It was not really a breakup. I had packed my things wordlessly, leaving a note asking him to check his messages and left.

I went to my grandmother’s place for a while. Stayed there, away from all the chaos unfolding in the city. Changed my number. But forgetting him was difficult, to say the least. I hated him but more than that, I hated myself for loving him. And to get that out of my system, I wrote the song. And it just caught eyes. I did not expect it to be famous. But because of the drama with him or the raw emotions in it, it was. And there was nothing I could do about it. I came back into the city just a day before, that too because Prerna showed up at my place and dragged me back. My pity party was interrupted by the door bell ringing. No one knew I was back in the city. So I just stayed at my place on the couch, waiting for the person to go away. I turned the volume of the movie own, hoping they would get the hint that no one was in the house. But the doorbell rang again. And again. Realising the person won’t go away, I walked to the door cursing them in my mind.

“What?” I asked, “If someone doesn’t open the door the first two times you ring, maybe go the hell away-” I said, opening the door. By the time I finished the sentence, my eyes met the brown ones I had written poems about.

Poems that he mostly made fun of with his friends.

Without thinking for another moment, I pushed the door in the reverse direction just as fast. But before I could slam it on his stupid face, he held the door. And being definitely stronger than me, he pushed it open and I couldn’t do anything. I kept trying.

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me once.” He said. Something in his voice made me stop. I looked at his face. He looked desperate. Or maybe I was projecting my emotions onto him again. Won’t be the first time. I did think he loved me. But that was me, looking at the reflection of my own adoration for him. I won’t be fooled. Not again.

“There is nothing left.” I said, “Go away.”

“Y/N, please.” He begged again, “Please I have been trying to get in touch with you for so long, please, give me five minutes. Please just listen to me once, and then if you want, I will leave without another word. You won’t have to see me again.”

I considered his words. What did I have to loose? What was left of my heart to break anymore, anyway?

“Five minutes.” I said, letting the door fall open.

“Five minutes.” He nodded.

I let him in, only because I did not want the neighbours to bring out their noses and popcorns. I closed the door and the curtains behind me.

“What?” I asked, turning to him. I looked at him for the first time in the last few months. He looked tired. He had grown his beard. His eyes looked exhausted. I shook my head. I could not trust my own judgement when it came to him.

“I heard the song.” He started.

“Is that why you are here? Need more content to make jokes out of? Am I not pathetic enough for you already?” I asked.

“Y/N, no. You are misunderstanding me.” He shook his head rapidly, “Jaan, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” I snapped. My throat tightened. It hurt to look at him. It hurt to hear his voice.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I want to apologise.” He started.

I scoffed, “A whole lot of good an apology would do.”

“There was a misunderstanding. I have been trying to tell you that since the day-”

“The day I saw that message? The day I came to know that I was only a pawn for you to be the public sweetheart again?”

“I meant to tell you-”

“When, Charan, when were you going to tell me?”

He reached out to hold me, and I took a step back, holding my hand out to stop him. I saw hurt flashing in his eyes as he fisted his fingers, letting his hand fall to his side helplessly.

“You should leave.” I said.

“Do you love me?” He asked.

I looked at him in disbelief.

“How can you even ask that? How dare you ask that?”

“Y/N, please.”

“Stop! You have always had everything your way. I am not answerable to you, anymore. You have no right. And guess what, you cannot solve this with all the money that you have.” That was a low blow, and I knew that. Stereotyping him in a privileged princely way was a low blow.

Hurt flashed in his eyes. This time I knew it was real.

“You faced a problem in a relationship and what do you do? Run away? Does running away solve your problems, Y/N? Does being a coward help?” He snapped back. He knew how to push my buttons. We both knew that very well.

“It wasn’t a relationship. That was the problem. It was an act. Screw anyone who says you can’t act, by the way. You had me believing it was real.” I spat back, as a fresh batch of tears rolled out of my eyes.

He sighed, taking a step forward. I was so tired that this time, I did not protest when he wrapped his arms around me. Something broke inside me, as he pulled me in his embrace. Clutching his shirt, I started sobbing. He held me tightly for as long as I cried. He whispered comforting words into my ears. It was funny how I sought comfort in him when he was the one who hurt me to a point of craziness. When I quieted a little, I heard him whisper.

“It wasn’t an act.” He said.

I looked up at him. His eyes were teary.

“It started out as one. But by the end of the first week, I knew I was really in love with you.” He continued.

“What?” I asked.

“It was never an act for me. I do really love you.”

My heart skipped a beat at his confession.

“Why didn’t you-”

“Because you left. You changed your number, your house. Hell, you left the city. Your team won’t tell me where you were. They all were so very mad at me. I tried to- I tried everything to get in touch with you. Everything. But I couldn’t. I came here everyday! And saw the lights on today-”

“Are you serious?” I asked, tears pooling my own eyes.

“Does it look like I am lying?” He asked, “I never lied, Y/N. I have always loved you. I am so sorry. Please believe me. I am so very sorry for all of it. I should have told you long ago but I was scared to loose you. But I lost you anyway, didn’t I?”

I stared at him dumbly, not knowing what to believe.

“Please, give me on more chance. Just one more. Please let me prove how much I love you.” He begged, “please, just once. I promise I won’t ever hurt you again.”

I nodded weakly. Of course I gave in. I loved him too much not to. He wasted no time in pulling me back into him. His chin rested on the top of my head and he kissed my hair repeatedly muttering apologies and thank you’s. From the way his body shook with sobs, with each word, I knew he would keep his promises.

I donno who to tag so I will copy my rrr taglist here.

@juhiiiiii @manwalaage @maraudersbitchesassemble @gauri-vishalakshi @lil-stark @rambheem-is-real @seherie @how-is-it-in-london @itsfookingloosah @ma-douce-souffrance @irisesforyoureyes @cainiyor @zaddylokiandthorsimp @bromance-minus-the-b @kafkaesquebestie @hissterical-nyaan @ramayantika @reallythoughtfulwizard @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @obsessedtoafault @budugu @chaanv @nerdreader @kalavathiii @hxnky-pxnky @shawty-writes-a-little @azraelcruor @rambheemisgoated @aasthuu @vidhurvrika @jeonmahi1864 @jjwolfesworld @yehsahihai @ma-douce-souffrance

@dumdaradumdaradum @eloquentree @tinysmallworlld-deactivated2022 @herefornamu @shreyalokesh @rishi-sita @sukitaee @mathy-u @army24--7 @floating-mushroom @nyotamalfoy @saanjh-sakhi @sabi5 @theclumsypanda

#ram charan #ram charan x reader #rrr #Spotify

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ashestoshadows · 10 months

Text

The silent threat that lurks amongst you...

(Human, yandere, male) Zoroark x Reader

Idk why I wrote this at, like, 3AM but I want to try and write more violent yandere stuff. And here's my first attempt: with a male and very aggressive Zoroark. And yes this is in someway headcanons (and a small story if you will- i'll maybe expand further with this)

The reader was given no gender here so you can project your own here; I also made the yandere here basically mute as I just thought it worked better that way so you just imagine what he's likely thinking as he never makes a peep really. besides laughing.

(Trigger warnings? Stalking, violence, reveling in someones pain/sadistic-ish)

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

Zoroark's are famous for their strong unity when in packs

Even as humans, Pokehumans, their unity is just as strong as their normal counterparts

You must of have done something to garner one to notice, let alone pay any mind to you, as they usually don’t care as long as you stay far enough away and don’t hurt any of their kits

Most Zoroark's are male but there is the offset it’s a female, males are much more territorial and protective of their packs

While the females just stay in their den, and protect their young, even risking their lives for them

Females sometimes also hunt for abandoned Zorua's to adopt for themselves and make sure they survive until they're ready to leave and hunt for themselves

But nonetheless with the side notes on them and their habits-

A male hybrid walked out from the cloak of darkness and peeked behind a tree. He noticed you walking by, you appeared to be alone… Quite foolish considering many strong creatures roamed these paths and lands.

He let out a giggle, but he continued to watch. Slowly trailing behind you and taking great entertainment at watching your naivety. Taking the form of a small creature such as Greedent so you wouldn’t pay his presence any mind, or care, as he came into your eyesight.

Your eyes locked with the small squirrel who ran up to you and handed you a small flower. It was small and the smell was airy and sweet, as you smelled it "Thank you little guy" you smiled at the squirrel before it dashed off… although a bit too quickly for what you're used to.

You continued walking down the path as you continued humming, birds fluttering about continuing their own days like usual and same for you as well.

Weeks passed since then and they slowly began testing their luck. Just quickly passing by.

But regardless, Zoroark's can be very aggressive and this one saw you as his property.

He eventually showed himself, long red hair pulled back into a long loose ponytail accompanied by a green jewel separating the two parts. Small parts sticking out all over the place.

You instantly tensed up and let out a gasp as you continued backing up until you were stuck; back to a tree as he kept walking closer and closer until his face was basically inches from yours

He said nothing as his green eyes pierced into yours with obvious ill-intentions of some kind. You yelped at feeling one of his clawed hands grasping at your cheek, holding your face to look at him.

Your breathe quickened as he suddenly did something, your eyes shut as you awaited the inevitable. You were at his mercy. But he… licked your face? And as quick as he appeared he was gone.

You shivered feeling his saliva on your cheek starting to dry up as you got up. Quickly picked up your bag which you dropped before you took off running like an athlete

"What… the fuck??"

This wasn't your last encounter, don’t get your hopes up.

That moment looped in your head for days as you racked it for any reason for why as you bumped into someone… you were lost now as you didn't recognise where you were.

"Excuse me, sir?" you spoke your voice snapping the male out of his thoughts as he looked at you, his head cocked to the side as in listening

"Where am I? How do I get back on the path?" he pointed to the right of him as he began walking, you quickly followed behind him very thankful you bumped into to someone here.

You were forced to trek though these woods as your village was here in the middle of the woods and you had no Pokemon to help you with transportation or protection. So you were likely going to meet said creature you met before again.

You hoped not though as he scared you, you had no real knowledge on Pokemon, nonetheless whatever creature he was. You stopped abruptly as you realised you were back on the path, and you sighed looking around to find the stranger to say thank you to but found nada.

"THANK YOU!" you yelled hoping he heard as you continued, a small giggle could be heard as you yelped in surprise dreading who you thought it was

You felt something brush past your back as you looked behind you to see nothing, you suddenly felt a heavy and looming presence behind you. You felt yourself get dragged off the path and being pressed against a tree, your arms held up above your head as you looked at the person who was doing this.

You were greeted with two feral green eyes which you recognized, he held your arms up above your head with one hand as he used the other cup your face, admiring you.

He looked terrifying as the light swallowed all around him making his eyes look like they were glowing. A subtle growl began to be heard as you felt a hand being pressed on your chest as you gasped, now thrashing about not wanting this to be happening. Not to you, and definitely not here.

A sinister smile grew on the Pokehumans face, sharp canine teeth exposing themselves as he reveled in seeing you scared, terrified. You have never felt this much fear in your life and you honestly wished you had a Pokemon to help you here.

You felt claws dig into your cheek as you felt them almost pinch your skin, threatening to cause a bleeding wound, but it seemed he was… holding back?

He didn't move, just watched you as you watched him, petrified of whatever he was planning on doing to you "P-please… Hurry up and just kill me!" you basically screamed as the male frowned, very confused as to what you were getting at. His hand that was grasping your face now went down and rested at your waist roughly as his other held your hands together now not letting you move them.

It appeared this one was either mute or was a man of very little words, you couldn't control yourself as you let a scream rip through your chest and out of your throat. A strong surge of strength surged through as you ripped your arms and hands free as you ran. Not caring about whatever you left behind before you left.

Your hope was quick lived as you were shoved down, you face smothered in dirt as you moaned. You felt the air being pushed out of your lungs from the impact as the male flipped you back over, your eyes locked with his as his free hand traced your body with his claw as if memorizing it all in his head and you watched tears welding in your eyes as you just wanted to go home.

A dominating looked burned brightly in his eyes as he then violently seared your arms as you screamed- You felt blood reaching outside of your body, touching air as you felt his claws ripped through your skin.

You were testing his patience. You're his property. Get it through your head. And then maybe he'll let you live and you'll make a good mate for him.

#yandere #pokemon #nintendo #ashestoshadows #yandere zoroark #male yandere zoroark #stalking #sadistic?#idk i'm trying stuff #please tell me what to add for triggers for this as i'm quite stupid with this type of stuff #very lazy writing- tbh most of it is writing #i fixed it up a little bit more

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kalpasio · 1 year

Text

The Herrscher of Stars

The Herrscher of Stars: Very Much Alive

A Kalpas x Herrscher!Reader fic, Chapter 3 below!

please note, these chapters will be edited sometime in the near future

When Kalpas suggested you prove your dedication to humanity for a week, you didn’t realize he was going to be stalking you the whole time. He watched you eat breakfast, watched you go through morning drills, he tried to watch you in the locker room, but you—and a few other agents—got him to back off. Lunch and your mission briefing were the same, and he even stood there silently while you spoke to Elysia.

At dinner, Emile found Kalpas, but since he refused to let you out of his sight, you got found too. “Look, I’m glad you made a new friend, but if you ditch another meeting, I’m gonna have to kill you,” Emile spoke as though that were a perfectly normal thing to say. His shrug only emphasized his nonchalance, and you worried you might get caught in the crossfire between these two again.

He gets to threaten death on a regular basis, but your eyes glow once and you’re suddenly a threat. Star threw her hands in the air, I told you we should’ve just killed him!”

It’s only a week, it’s not like we have to do anything special. Also, trying to prove we don’t go around killing people by killing them seems a little counterproductive.

Whatever, she waved you off. Go be human. I’m tired of listening to logic.

Emile’s threat last night did very little to deter Kalpas, and soon you found yourself being followed by two weird men instead of one. They even went so far as to tag along on your mission, Kalpas killing anything before you could try to fight yourself, and Emile judging your every move. Kalpas never explained to Emile why he was watching you, and Emile never asked. Knowing how sharp he was, you had a feeling he figured it out.

Today was the last day you had to deal with them, then you’d be home free. All you had to do was not be suspicious. Easy peasy. Star was still complaining, but you expected that at this point. You trained, ate, wrote reports, and did absolutely nothing Herrscher related. That night, you went to bed, content that you had cleared your name.

Barely an hour later, you were woken by the sound of alarms. Fire Moth HQ got attacked on a regular basis, but automated turrets were able to handle most threats. For the ringing in your ears right now, there had to be something massive—like a Herrscher…

Did he turn us in? Star’s anger and fear mixed with your own, making it hard to keep your thoughts straight. You needed to move.

Grabbing a coat and your lance, you bolted out your door and took a sharp turn down the hall. If you could make it to the kitchens, there was a back entrance that wasn’t monitored. You just had to make it down a few more halls.

“Where the hell are you going?” Kalpas was in front of you, glaring after you nearly ran into him. He didn’t make a move to kill you, but you weren’t going to stick around for him to. Darting to the side, you went around him and continued sprinting down halls.

Throwing open the canteen doors, you heard Star swear and try to take over. Honkai beasts and corrupted Fire Moth mechs filled the cafeteria, and Kalpas was hot on your trail. Tightly gripping your lance, you got one step in to the room before he reached you. And then he was past you. Not even noticing you were there before he dove into the sea of Honkai.

It didn’t make sense for there to be Honkai beasts in the base normally, but even more so if you were the threat. You wouldn't summon them, and there's no way Fire Moth would just let them lose in the facility. That didn’t matter. If you wanted to escape, now was your chance. No one else had caught up to you yet.

Since Kalpas knew you were a Herrscher, there was no point in holding back. With glowing blue eyes, you threw your lance into the air. Reversing gravity for only yourself, your feet touched the ceiling only long enough for you to crouch and push off. A shout left you as you kicked your floating lance back into the clump of Honkai.

For a fraction of a second, the brightness of a star shone at the tip of your lance, and then it went straight through a Chariot. It was embedded deep into the ground, a gravity well around it pulling most of the beasts together.

Reversing gravity again and increasing it, you dropped viciously to the ground, beams of starlight surrounding you and impaling anything caught in the pull of your artificial sun. With a path cleared, you yanked your lance from the crater it made, and headed for the door. Kalpas could deal with the rest, and that should slow him down enough for you to get out of here.

You made it so far as the main gate, only running into a few enemies that you delt with in one swing. What stopped you was a much larger issue. Hovering above the gate, you saw a man shrouded in darkness, despite the floodlights shining directly on him. You couldn’t make out much else, but you knew for sure he was nothing good.

“If it isn’t the Herrscher of Stars.” His head snapped in your direction and eyes locked onto your own. “The traitor and coward,” he drawled, voice deep and unnerving like your own when Star had first taken over. Even though he could see you, the building was still covering you in enough shadow that no other MOTHs knew it was you he was talking to.

Who the hell is this? You asked Star, and you could feel her seethe.

Some shitty discount Herrscher wannabe who’s about to be dead, the amount of power she pushed through your body increased, and you knew she was about to fight.

Wait, you locked your legs. We can’t be seen. He knows you’re the Herrscher of Stars, give him the real Herrscher of Stars.

Handing over so much control was dangerous, but it was your best bet. Just like every other Herrscher, your appearance changed the more you used your powers. A skin tight suit with sheer cutouts that showed the night sky replaced pajamas. One leg was the bright yellow-white of a sun, the other so black, it almost couldn’t be seen. Star’s deep blue completely took over your eyes, with blinding white stars for pupils, and a crown on top of your head. She always did have a flair for the dramatic.

“You’re not even a Herrscher, and you dare speak my name?” Star spoke with your voice, hers laid over it like a filter for the distortion you heard every day in your mind. Gravity had no hold over you now, the feeling of floating taking over as you rose to meet your enemy. Once you were closer, you scoffed and relaxed your tense posture.

“A pseudo-Herrscher? Not even the real deal and you want to attack humanity’s stronghold and a true Herrscher?” You lazily raised a hand and summoned an array of star lances behind yourself, burning away the pitch black around the other Herrscher with your light. “Stand down and save us both the trouble.”

“Real or not, I’d like to see you try and fight the dark.” Suddenly you were entirely surrounded by black, even the glow from your lances disappeared. Inwardly, you panicked. Attacks could come form anywhere, and you were weaponless. Star, however, was completely calm.

“So you know my name, and you still think fighting me is a good idea? You picked, possibly the worst Herrscher to fight.” Raising your left arm, you could feel the Honkai energy concentrating in your fist as a star began to form. Light spilled from between your fingers until you let go and the miniature sun completely dismissed the dark. In the middle of the night, you made it day, and you hardly felt drained.

The pseudo-Herrscher’s shocked face told you everything. Blinding you had been his only plan, and he was left with no options. With a sneer, your still outstretched hand formed a claw. The sun split into several tiny stars; all of them sharp, and all of them pointed at your enemy.

“Fake,” you spat, then drove your hand down, the light following and piercing the cheap copy. Raising both hands, you summoned a much larger lance made of starlight. Slowly, you lowered your right hand, using it to create a gravity well behind the pseudo-Herrscher.

Clenching your hand into a fist pulled both him, and the spear you threw, and your hit was dead-on. With the core inside him shattered, there was nothing keeping him in the air but you. As soon as you let go, he fell to the ground far below you, Herrscher attire flickering away like a comet.

The fight’s over, you placed a hand on Star’s shoulder in your mind. She turned to you with a glare.

You want us to fall like that idiot? You shook your head ‘no.’ Then let me set us down first.

Casting your eyes over the ground, you looked for somewhere to land where you wouldn’t be spotted. What you found instead was a bright fire looking directly at you. Kalpas. If you went anywhere near him, you were as good as dead.

We can’t stay here, you nudged Star to look the other way. Find us somewhere else. It’s best if we lay low for now. She gave a soft ‘yeah’ and the Herrscher turned back into the little kid you were used to. With a nod, you pushed off and flew away from your home, off to find somewhere nobody knew your name.

Gotta continue MiHoYo's oversexualization with the body suit, sorry guys. Also I wrote down the words "hint of Herrscher" and went "that sounds like a candle" then frantically erased it and I think that summarizes this story pretty well.

#kalpas x reader #honkai x reader #Emile (HI3) x reader #Kalpas x Emile #Kalpas x Reader x Emile #I hate making up new tags I feel like I'm doing something wrong #azaryawrites #tamalethebear #cross posted on ao3 #edited finally!

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togrowoldinv · 2 years

Text

I Still Believe In You

Florence Pugh x Reader

You and Florence dated back in your late teen years. What happens when you meet again years later at a friend’s wedding?

Note: This is loosely based on the song I Still Believe In You by Vince Gill. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

You immediately stop paying attention to the small talk at your table when you catch sight of her. The most beautiful woman in the world, you think, Florence Pugh. You thought she would be at this wedding, but you hadn’t seen her all night until now.

She catches your gaze from across the room and starts walking towards you. You look around your table and try to keep up with the conversation a bit so as to try not to stare at her the entire time she’s walking towards you. But it’s hard to tear your gaze from such a captivating woman, so you excuse yourself and walk towards Florence as well.

“Y/n?” Florence says as she gets closer to you and when meet her gaze again her face lights up with a giant smile. “I thought that was you. Hi!” She pulls you into a hug and you easily reciprocate it.

“Hey Florence! Long time,” you reply with a smile as well and she pulls away from you but keeps close.

“It’s so good to see you!” She says.

“It’s good to see you too, Flo. Well, outside of my tv at least,” You say and she laughs. God, how you had missed hearing that laugh.

The two of you dated for three years during your college years after high school, but ultimately broke it off about six months after you moved to Boston for graduate school. She was living in LA at the time and already becoming the star you knew she would be.

It was never really anything either of you did that caused the end of the relationship, but the distance was a huge factor. But that also meant that you were both happy to see each other again now. No hard feelings was truly how the ending went. And you can’t deny seeing her now makes you miss how things used to be with you two. You were inseparable as friends for a couple of years and then as partners too.

You and Florence sit at a table towards the outskirts of the reception and start catching up with each other’s lives.

“So, what’s been going on in the world of y/n?” Florence asks you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in gosh like four years. Is that right?”

“I think so, yeah. It’s been a while. As to what’s been going on my world, nothing much. I’ve been working on some pretty cool things I think. I’m currently teaching English literature at NYU and doing a lot of research,” you reply and she nods intently.

That’s something you always loved about Flo, she was a great active listener. You always knew she was really hearing you when you spoke to her. “How about you?” You ask her.

“That’s great! I’ve been working too. There’s so many new Marvel projects and then some other side things I’m doing too. But it’s been good,” Florence says. “Do you have anyone- um- you know that you’re seeing?” You don’t hide your shock well when she asks you that and your eyes go wide.

“I don’t actually. Do you?” You are surprised by her question, but decide to be just as forward back to her.

“Not currently, no,” she says but she doesn’t look disappointed by that fact.

Truthfully you hadn’t been but with a couple of people since you dated Florence. It wasn’t that you have been hung up on her, it’s just that you hadn’t felt that deep of a connection since then.

“Have you been writing any? I sure did love your poems back in the day,” Florence asks you and your heart swells that she remembers how you used to write for her. It was almost weekly that you’d give her an envelope with a handwritten letter and a poem you wrote for her inside.

“Not as much as I’d like to. I haven’t seemed to have much of anything lately to write about,” you say and she just hums in understanding.

“I’m sure you’ll find something soon,” Florence assures you. “I wish I would’ve found you earlier in the night so we could’ve caught up more.”

“Yeah, me too,” you reply. The crowd at the wedding had faded out a lot and it was nearing time for the rest of you to leave.

“Hey, what if we get a drink at my place? I mean if you want to and you’re free. I’d love to keep this night going,” Florence says.

“Sounds great, Flo,” you reply happily albeit a bit nervously. The idea of spending time with her again excites you and frightens you all at once.

Once you get to her house, she pours you both a glass of wine and you sit on the couch together.

“I am really glad you were at the wedding tonight. I don’t think anyone else from those days are even worth talking to anymore,” you speak first.

“Yeah. I ran into a few people and it was kind of crazy how they seemed to still be trying to relive the glory days,” Flo agrees. “Do you miss anything about it?” She asks and you really ponder it for a few moments.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what it is I miss, but I think it starts with you,” you say boldly. But it’s true. You do miss her.

“I missed you too,” Florence says, her eyes have a hint of sadness in them.

“I mean you know how it was with us. It was always like a fairytale. Like nothing could touch us. Until it did and I guess I just miss feeling the way I used to when our world wasn’t shattered by reality, you know?“ you explain. You hadn’t meant to be so honest, but she’s just so easy to talk to you that it all comes out.

“Yeah I know. I always felt like we were meant to have our happy ending. It was too abrupt, the way we just fell off. Like you said reality really got the better of us,” Florence says, sitting her drink on the end table and moving a bit closer to you on the couch.

“Somewhere along the way I guess I just lost track of what we could’ve been. But god there was nothing worth losing you for, Florence. I know no terrible thing happened to break us up but if I never would’ve gone to Boston, then maybe,” you pause knowing what you say next may not be what she wants to hear.

“No, you don’t need to say that. You weren’t the only one dealing with the distance,” Flo says.

“But I was the one who left,” you say with a sigh.

“It’s okay. I never held that against you. I promise. We just- we weren’t ready then. But we were so good when we were good, y/n,” Florence says with a grin.

“We were pretty great together, huh? We burned very bright,” you say and smile at the memories of your relationship with Florence.

“Oh yeah for sure. You were certainly who I thought I would be with forever,” Flo says and you reach out to grab her hand lightly. Your fingers intertwine and it’s like no time has passed between when you were together and now. Her hand in yours still feels so perfect.

“It was the same for me, Florence. I always thought we’d get married and live our best life out in the countryside with a home that had a huge kitchen for you,” you reply and she smiles.

“Sounds pretty perfect to me,” Florence says and you feel her shift even closer to you. “We could still make that happen?” Flo suggests, it comes out as a question. And her lips are dangerously close to yours. Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back to meet your gaze.

“Flossie I-” you start but she cuts you off when she moves her hand to run through your hair.

“I really want to kiss you right now. Is that okay?” She whispers, her hand moves to the side of your face and she holds you softly. Her thumb strokes your blush red cheek and in this this moment you’d do anything for her.

“Yes,” is all you can say before her lips capture yours in a loving kiss. All of your old love for her resurfaces in just one touch of your lips and you know it’s a perfect moment. Nothing has ever felt more right then kissing Florence.

For a long time, the two of you bask in each other’s touch. From kisses to cuddling on her couch, you stay at her house far into the early morning before you have to leave for your hotel to teach an online class.

You get a text from Florence about an hour into your teaching day that says she can’t wait to see you again and it makes you smile.

Right there in your hotel room, you write a poem for the first time in years. You really had been missing a muse and you met her once again last night.

You write the words down on a piece of paper and put them in your pocket for later.

When you get to Flo’s later that night, you hand her the piece of paper. She reads it aloud:

I don’t have an envelope here at the hotel but for you, my inspiration, here’s a little something:

Tonight, my love for her radiates through the room.

Without making a sound, she makes my heart swell.

With the touch of my hand, I know she can feel its reach.

“This is amazing, y/n. I love you,” Florence says and hugs you tightly.

“I love you too, Flo,” you reply and kiss her passionately, trying to express every ounce of your love for her in your touch.

This time your relationship will last forever and your love will always be.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #marvel x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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kirishimaswife2819 · 3 years

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Them With a Foreign S/o || Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Kaminari

Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x foreign!Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x foreign!Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x foreign!reader, Shoto Todoroki x foreign!reader, and Denki Kaminari x foreign!reader

Requested by Anonymous: hello! could i request some headcanons with the boys wherein their s/o's a foreigner? like, they have trouble speaking japanese and all. thank you and i hope you have a lovely day! <33

Word Count: 1.4k

Notes: Everything in italics is spoken in Japanese, h/c=home country

A/n: Hi! Thanks for requesting! I hope I wrote this well. Sorry that Kiri’s is sort of short, I couldn’t think of anything else for him. Hope you enjoy these- Danielle <3

Izuku Midoriya:

Izuku thinks it’s really cool that you are foreign

He’ll ask you a lot of questions about your home country, and be really patient with you as you try to explain it in Japanese

He does seem to notice that you have a bit of a hard time expressing yourself or showing your real personality while your talking in Japanese, just because you don’t know the right words to say

So, he starts learning your native language, so it’s easier for the two of you to talk to each other and get to know each other better

He revealed to you that he was learning your native language, and after that, you two tutored each other in each other’s language

Once you could finally be yourself around Izuku, the two of you got along pretty well and you two ended up with crushes on each other

You two got together, because you overheard him talking to one of his friends about how he had a crush on you and didn’t know what to do about it

“You should ask me out.”

“I already-” He paused when he realized that the voice did not come from his friend, and instead from behind him, and then he realized it was your voice and his face turned beet red

Anyways, you ended up confessing your feelings for him as well and you two got together

He always asks questions about where you’re originally from and he has a whole page in his notebook about your favorite things to do at home, and fun facts about your hometown

Since you haven’t had a whole ton of Japanese foods, or done activities that were common in Japan, he likes taking you on dates specifically to do things exclusive to Japan

If there’s a certain snack you like from your country that isn’t available in Japan, and you tell Izuku, he’ll order it online for you, and have it shipped to you, so you can still have it

Katsuki Bakugou:

At first, he thought you were really stupid

How were you supposed to become a hero when you can’t even understand half the shit that your classmates are saying?

But over time, he found himself liking your personality

He liked your determination to become a hero, even if you were having trouble understanding your classmates

I feel like Bakugou speaks multiple languages, so he would be able to talk to you in your first language

The two of you actually became friends, because he got sick of you messing up your Japanese

You were saying something to Mina, who was waiting patiently while you tried to figure out how to explain it in Japanese

Bakugou was listening in and the second he heard you mess up a word, he went, “God, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Bakugou! Don’t be mean to them. They’re trying,” Mina said, scolding the ash blonde

“Do you want to teach me?” You question, sarcastically of course, switching back to your native language, since you knew Bakugou knew it

“If it’ll keep you from speaking in that shitty Japanese then yeah.”

And that’s how your relationship with Bakugou began

Every Wednesday and Friday night, you would go over to his dorm and he would practice Japanese with you for a few hours. He was kind of mean about it, and scolded you when you messed up, but you were quickly learning Japanese

Over time, you two ended up getting pretty close and became friends, and eventually he confessed his feelings for you and you two started dating

You two now talked in Japanese most of the time, but you would still unconsciously switch back to your native language, since it was what you were used to

If you’re ever homesick, Bakugou will make you some kind of food that is from your country and he knows that you like, and then he’ll watch a movie from your country with you

Eijiro Kirishima:

Kirishima is actually the first friend you make at U.A.

I know I say that in a lot of my different headcanon posts, but come on, he’s way too nice and accepting to not be your first friend

Whenever you guys first met, he was so patient while you tried speaking Japanese

He offers to teach you Japanese, but he low key sucks at teaching stuff, so after he realizing he’s not really helping, he finds an app for you to download on your phone that can help you learn more (if you don’t already have one)

Once your pretty fluent in Japanese, the two of you get along even better now that you’re able to communicate better

Eventually he confesses his feelings for you and the two of you get together

He likes when you tell stories about things that have happened to you in your old country, or crazy things that have happened in your hometown

He’ll commonly look up recipes from your country, and try to make them with you

Shoto Todoroki:

When Shoto found out that you were foreign, he really didn’t care all that much

You were just another student in his class, why should he be more curious about you than he would anybody else?

At least that’s what he thought, up until Aizawa paired you two up for a project

Shoto had a tendency to correct your Japanese whenever you two were talking, not realizing that it may hurt your feelings or embarrass you

He only realized this when he was working on the project with you in the library, and Midoriya was right next to the two of you and he kept hearing Shoto correct you

So Izuku pulled him off to the side and told him to stop correcting you, because it’s probably embarrassing you

After that, Shoto felt sort of bad, but he felt it would be more awkward if he apologized, so he didn’t

While you two worked on the project, Shoto got to know you and ended up developing a little crush on you

He talked to Midoriya about this, and he told Shoto that he should ask you out

He wasn’t sure how he should do it, so he asked Midoriya again, and he suggested that Shoto should learn how to ask you out in your native language and then ask you out like that

Shoto did it and it worked

He helped you learn Japanese better, and your relationship was going great

He doesn’t really pay any special attention to the fact that you’re from a different country, he only really remembers it when you two are going out to eat and you ask about what a certain food is and if it’s good or not

Denki Kaminari:

Denki got so excited when he found out that there was going to be a foreign student coming to U.A.

The second he saw you, he immediately was attracted to you and wanted to ask you out

So, the second you sat down in your new class before class started, he was up immediately and flirting with you

But since you didn’t know very much Japanese, you had no idea what he was saying, so you just sort of brushed it off

Denki got kind of upset about it, and just left you alone, since it was obvious that you didn’t like him

He only realized that you didn’t understand him when he was telling his friends about it later, and they told him that you probably didn’t know much Japanese

You ended up looking up half the things he said to you after school that day, and blushed when you realized he was complimenting you

The next day you walked up to him in class and apologized for brushing him off, before explaining the situation, which he already knew

You two ended up getting along pretty well

Before you two got to know each other, he just found you attractive because of your looks, but now he found you attractive because of your looks and personality

Eventually, he admits his feelings for you, and you return them, so you two start dating

For some reason, he loves to flex that you’re from a different country

Like if anybody says that you’re a cute couple, he’ll be like “Yeah, I know. They’re from h/c.”

He’ll sometimes ask what a certain word means in your native language, so he can compliment you in that language

He tries to learn the whole language, but it confuses him way too much

He even tries watching some of his favorite films, but in your native language, but he always gets bored halfway through and turns on the Japanese version

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 3 years

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Chaconne: Part 9 (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: With the first concert of the season approaching, you continue working as the personal assistant of Maestra Agatha Harkness, while attempting to juggle your relationship and future in the process.

Word Count: 5K Words

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCfDtxcFoyM

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to Part 9 of Chaconne. One quick thing...I have decided to extend this story by just a few parts, I really don’t want to rush through the ending and there are a few more things I want to write haha. Anyways, I included a link to the first movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and it’s briefly mentioned throughout the story so if you feel inclined feel free to listen. I really hope all of you are still enjoying the story, and that you enjoy Part 9! As always, please feel free to leave a comment and my asks/messages are open if you have any questions :)

Tag List: @annie-mit-ie @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @notsosecretlyalesbian @sarahp-stan @scarletwxtxh @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @teenwonder @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @thoroughly--confused

You weren’t sure how long you were frozen on stage, completely lost in your thoughts before the sound of Agatha’s heels came clicking from backstage. Just as you managed to clear your head of Wanda’s offer, the alluring scent of lavender invaded your senses. Even from a few feet away you could hear the conductor mumbling to herself about god knows what. As soon as she spotted you, however, the ramblings immediately stopped.

“Ah, there you are,” Agatha said, offering you a rare but genuine smile as she set her belongings down on the podium. “I see you set the stage.”

Nodding you motioned across the hall. “It didn’t take too long but I gave the winds extra room like you requested.”

The conductor nodded before curiously eyeing you. “Are you alright, dear? You seem distracted.”

Well you could tell her that her least favorite concert pianist had just suggested you move to Vienna. Or how Wanda was apparently aware that there was something going on between the two of you. A part of you did think it would be important to inform Agatha of that, but you also didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was.

You quickly nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Agatha’s eyes searched yours for a moment before nodding and turning her attention to her Dvorak score. A few minutes later, various MSO musicians arrived and began unpacking on and off stage. You eventually headed out to sit in one of the front rows, and you realized you never told Monica that she would be getting a new stand partner.

Luckily it didn’t take long for the violinist to enter the hall, followed closely by Jimmy and Darcy. Her face lit up when she saw you, and went to set her violin down in the row you were sitting in.

“Hey Y/N,” Monica greeted you brightly, before frowning when she noticed something was amiss. “Where’s your violin?”

“I...I’m not playing with the MSO anymore,” you explained quietly, watching Agatha berate the second chair oboist on stage for the way she tuned. “Hayward had blind auditions to fill the chair and I didn’t get it.”

“That’s whack,” Darcy immediately replied, causing Jimmy and Monica to glare at her. “What? It is.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Monica said sincerely. “You’re really talented, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah and it’s only one audition,” Jimmy pointed out. “Hayward’s always been a bit hard headed when it comes to filling seats, especially if it’s someone he picked.”

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “And Monica you’ll be getting a new stand partner so I’m sure he’ll be really good.”

“Which one is he?” Darcy asked curiously as she scanned the hall.

You discreetly glanced around the room before you found him. He was already heading on stage, violin in hand. You hadn’t really paid him much mind before the audition, but now you seemed to notice every detail about him. The sure way he presented himself as he practically strutted up the stage. His rigid posture as he sat in his seat, as if that was a comfortable way to sit.

You motioned your head to the stage and Darcy let out a quiet snort. “Oh good. John Walker.”

Monica rolled her eyes at her friend. “You know this guy?”

“Of course I do,” Darcy replied. “I know everyone.”

“What’s his deal?” Jimmy asked curiously. “He seems a bit...”

“Like he has a stick up his ass?” Darcy guessed, and Jimmy laughed.

“I was going to say uptight, but sure.”

“Walker fancies himself to be a bit of a prodigy,” Darcy explained and shook her head. “He’s good, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not amazing. I played a few gigs with him last summer in the Hamptons and I dreaded every moment spent in his company.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Monica argued before giving you a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I agree with you,” you reassured the violinist. “I’m going to go see if Ag- Maestra needs anything before rehearsal so I’ll see you guys later?”

Agatha was leaning against the podium, drinking her water when she saw you approach her. The conductor appeared exhausted again, and you made a mental note to make sure she went straight home after rehearsal.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

Agatha handed you her spare Dvorak score. “I’ll need you to tell me how the sound projects through the hall. We’ll be running the first movement today and I need to make sure the opening cello theme is clear enough.”

“Right, and if something isn’t clear what do you want me to do?”

“Well you could always throw something at Dottie,” Agatha suggested. “That would certainly get my attention.”

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I’m being serious.”

“As was I, dear. Dottie needs to look up from her music more. Perhaps that would encourage her to do so,” Agatha replied nonchalantly before sighing at the look you gave her. “Fine. I’ll ask you at the end of the movement what your notes are.”

“You mean my notes on sound projection, right?”

Agatha shrugged. “Or any suggestions you have on how to improve different sections. I...” the conductor paused and glanced around the hall to make sure no one else was listening in. “I do value your opinion.”

Your felt your heart sing at those words, and it took everything in you to not grab the older woman and kiss her senseless. Instead you gave her a bright smile. “Well I suppose I can try really hard to come up with a few meaningful suggestions.”

Rolling her eyes at your words, Agatha shook her head. “Try not to make me regret my decision, dear. Take a seat a few rows back, I’ll be starting rehearsal soon.”

Sure enough, just as you took your seat Agatha had the orchestra tuning before instructing them to start at the beginning of the first movement of the Dvorak. You loved every movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and while you adored the fourth movement, there was something quite special about the first. There was this beautiful building intensity that started in the strings before slowly rising to include the entire ensemble. It was passionate, colorful, and left you eager for more.

As much as you loved performing, and you did more than anything, you found yourself enjoying getting to observe the rehearsal from your seat in the audience. It allowed you to focus on so much more than when you would be sitting in the first violin section. Before you never saw how Jimmy appears to have his entire part memorized since he usually has his eyes locked on Agatha the entire time. Or how talented Darcy was. You knew she had to be a good percussionist to be subbing for the MSO, but she performed with so much energy you found it hard to tear your eyes away from her.

Then there was Agatha. The conductor appeared lost in the music as she mindlessly conducted, but you swore you never saw anything more beautiful. Every single time you had the privilege of watching her conduct you swore she kept finding new ways to draw you in. How someone could make the simple movements with a baton and her hand so enticing. She had so much energy in her while conducting, and the love she had for the music was so clear in her eyes. What was even more fascinating to you was how easily the rest of the orchestra seemed to follow her. All of her cues were perfect, and she never missed a downbeat. She was by far the best conductor you had ever seen and you would never tire of getting to see this side of her.

The movement progressed and you turned your attention to the first violin section. Monica was was entirely in her element, and you immediately felt a slight pang at not being next to her on stage. You had a few stand partners who had been lovely over the years but Monica was better than all of them combined. She was so precise in her playing, and her technique was absolutely flawless. But what made Monica so unique was how genuinely kind she was. A lot of violinists were so focused on their craft it didn’t matter who they stepped on to get their way, but it was clear Monica didn’t play by those rules.

As you felt your eyes wander, they landed on the new violinist. John Walker. He was...good. The egomaniac violinist inside of you wanted to argue that you were better, but you shoved those comments away. For one thing he used far too much bow on his tremolos, and you were worried he was going to send his bow flying across the stage with the way he was holding it. Then there was his posture, he sat so rigid in his seat. After a few moments, you realized you were sounding more and more like Agatha.

Tearing your eyes away from the first violin section, you wrote down a few notes on sound quality throughout the movement and forced yourself to stay focused. The movement progressed and you couldn’t help but note how good the orchestra was sounding. Granted Agatha ran them hard, but it was clearly paying off. They were good before, but they were finally playing with more of a purpose. Unfortunately, you didn’t think Agatha felt the same was. As soon as the final chord rang out, the conductor whipped her baton on her stand, and you could tell she was angry.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Agatha spat out as she flipped through her score. “That was the saddest attempt of Dvorak I have ever heard in all my years of conducting. I’ve worked with youth symphonies who sounded better than all of you combined.”

Personally you felt Agatha was exaggerating a tad, but you watched her continue to rant.

“Woo, your projection is eons better than before but I still need more,” Agatha called out to the winds section, and you saw Jimmy shoot up in his seat as the conductor called his name. From the percussion section, Darcy also appeared to notice Jimmy’s change in posture and she glanced over and shook her head at you.

“If the rest of you could play as well as Woo I doubt we would be having this conversation but alas,” Agatha sighed, before tapping her baton on the stand. “Flutes, I’m starting to wonder if all of you are deaf or just enjoy the sound of my voice berating you, because what the hell was that? Jones, all of your solos are splitting my brain open. Either work on your intonation and have it fixed by tomorrow morning or I’ll be moving you to second chair.”

Dottie slouched in her seat and you bit your lip. Agatha had lost her temper before during rehearsal but this was slowly starting to get worse.

“I don’t have to time to rerun all of this because we have the idi-Miss Maximoff joining us shortly, but please turn your attention to measure seventy-five,” Agatha instructed the ensemble, before turning her attention to the first violins. “First violins, I need this melody to be sweet and light as we begin, don’t give me too much too soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the new violinist raise his bow to ask a question. Oh good. That would definitely end well...Agatha continued rambling on about vibrato and tone, seemingly unaware of the violinist and a part of you hoped perhaps he would simply move on and ask the question later. But it appeared he was the persistent type as he cleared his throat to get the conductor’s attention. Although you were positive Agatha heard him, you were a few rows back and the sound was clear as day, she continued her rant, ignoring him completely. At this point the rest of the orchestra seemed aware of what was going on and everyone seemed to be waiting for Agatha to acknowledge him.

“Maestra? I had a question,” The violinist’s voice boomed through the hall, and you internally winced as you watched Agatha whip her head to look at him.

“Ah yes, our new addition,” Agatha said briefly, as she eyed the violinist. “John Walker, is it?”

He nodded. “I hate to interrupt Maestra-“

Agatha cut him off, appearing to grow more uninterested with every word that came out of his mouth. “Yet you still proceed to act like a privileged toddler to get my attention, so please, Walker, what is it?”

“I merely wanted to suggest a different approach to measure seventy-five,” John explained and he had far too much cockiness for your liking. “I know you feel it’s best to take a softer approach, I was always told to start with a bigger sound then slowly decrescendo. It’s just a suggestion.”

There was another pause as Agatha stared at the violinist with a calculating and cold stare. A part of you wondered if this would be the day she finally snapped and whipped her baton at someone. You had heard rumors of a betting pool the interns had on when Agatha would inevitably strangle someone for making her too angry. You had thought they were being a bit drastic at the time, but seeing the way she was looking at Walker was making you reconsider that.

“Thank you for sharing your very generous suggestions with us, Mr. Walker,” Agatha replied, and there was emphasis on the word suggestions. “I’m not sure if you are aware of where you are, but this is my orchestra.”

John frowned at that, and once again unwisely opened his mouth. “Maestra, I wasn’t attempting to overstep. I just thought I would offer my opinion on how to make the section stronger.”

“Ah yes, my mistake. I must have forgot when I asked for your opinion,” Agatha retorted. her temper appearing to grow more and more heated. “Would you like to offer any other suggestions, Walker? I’m positive the entire orchestra is simply dying to hear your words of wisdom.”

This time John remained silent, but you saw how darker his appearance grew at being called out in front of the entire orchestra. Agatha appeared satisfied by that and she tapped her baton against the stand again. “Lovely to see the newbie catching on. Measure seventy-five.”

The rehearsal of Dvorak continued to drag, and you marked a few notes for suggestions like Agatha had asked you to. You would occasionally check the clock, wondering when Wanda would be arriving since the orchestra was set to rehearse Rachmaninoff at 8:30 sharp. Eventually the doors to the hall opened, but instead of Wanda entering the room it was one of the interns Agatha hadn’t managed to scare away during her early reign of terror. The intern appeared nervous about something, who knows what, and they quickly sought you out.

“Y/N, you have to tell Maestra Harkness that Miss Maximoff won’t be attending rehearsal this evening,” the intern told you, and it looked like they were going to pass out from the fear of having to tell Agatha.

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal?” You asked curiously.

The intern quickly nodded. “She’s sick.”

Sick? You had just seen the pianist a couple hours ago and she appeared fine, but maybe she just came down with something. Giving the intern a small smile, you stood up. “I’ll tell Maestra, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” the intern said sincerely. “I’m pretty sure if I tell her she’ll find a way to fire me.”

The intern hurried back out of the hall and you slowly made your way to the front of the stage, hoping Agatha would call for the orchestra to take a break so you could make your move. With there only being a few rehearsals left until opening night you knew the absence of a soloist would send the conductor over the edge. But hopefully her strong dislike of Wanda would lighten the blow. As if the two of you were telepathically connected, Agatha turned around as you approached the stage and signaled for the orchestra to stop.

“Let’s take ten,” Agatha instructed them. “Have Rachmaninoff ready by the time we come back.”

The musicians all but hurried off the stage, and said hello to the few you had gotten to know over the past few weeks. Darcy caught your eye as she walked down the stairs and motioned her head to where John Walker was standing by his case, rolling her eyes in the process. You swallowed the laughter that threatened to escape as you went to join Agatha on stage. It didn’t take the older woman long to realize something was wrong.

“If you’re going to say I was being too hard on Walker, don’t,” Agatha quietly warned you, and it was apparent she was still fuming.

“I need you to promise me that you’re not going to throw a temper tantrum after I tell you this,” you said, and your tone was light, but Agatha gave you a look.

“I do not throw temper tantrums,” the conductor hissed as you motioned for her to follow you backstage.

“Of course not, Maestra. Your outbursts are completely normal for a woman of your-“ you quickly paused as Agatha arched an eyebrow at you, clearly unamused.

“My what, darling?” Agatha questioned, giving you an unconvincing glare as you laughed.

“Your stature,” you corrected yourself.

“You’re on thin ice,” the conductor warned you. “I’m not sure I like how easily you tease me.”

“Coming from the woman who’s done nothing but tease me since we met I think it’s only fair,” you offered, and Agatha smirked. “But really, please don’t freak out.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’ll have no choice but to tie you up and force the words out of you myself,” Agatha mused, causing you to blush, which made her smirk grow wider. “Ah, do you like the sound of that, darling?”

“The rest of the orchestra is only a few feet away,” you warned her as she took a step closer to you. “If our relationship is supposed to stay private wouldn’t it be a bit unwise to...”

“Oh no, dear, don’t stop using your words now,” Agatha practically purred, she closed the distance between you, lightly shoving you against the wall. “We’re just getting started.”

“Agatha, I really think maybe we should do this somewhere-“ you began to say, and you truly had every intention of trying to be the rational one here, but any remaining brain function you had left was erased as Agatha’s lips began trailing up your neck, occasionally stoping to nip at skin. “Agatha...”

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Agatha whispered against your ear, the warm air of her breath sending tingles down your spine. “Or do I need to encourage you a bit more?”

“I don’t know how you doing this is supposed to encourage me to talk,” you argued, and bit back a moan as the conductor bit down on your earlobe.

“I’m just trying to help, darling,” Agatha insisted, pulling you impossibly closer to her as you were pressed against the wall. “I can help even more if you would like.”

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal,” you finally managed to let out with a gasp, and Agatha paused her movements at that.

“Darling, I know I’m a bit distracted but I believe you just said the Sokovian dingbat won’t be at rehearsal,” Agatha said slowly, as if she was trying to wrap her brain around what you just said.

Unwrapping yourself from the conductor, you nodded, trying to gauge her reaction. “She’s sick so she won’t be in attendance today.”

Agatha scoffed, shaking her head at your words. “Wanda Maximoff doesn’t get sick and miss rehearsal. I was-I worked with her long enough to know that.”

“Well that’s what personnel told me, so I’m not sure what to tell you,” you said, and you found yourself stuck on what Agatha had almost said. What wasn’t she telling you?

The conductor took a moment to pull her phone out of her pocket and her frown deepened even more. “Oh for the love of...” Agatha trailed off before whipping her phone against the wall, shattering it in the process.

You jumped at the sound, but Agatha barely seemed to notice you as she was entirely too lost in her thoughts. “Agatha, what’s wrong?”

“Cancel the rest of rehearsal,” Agatha said dismissively as she straightened her sweater. “Those idiots are infuriating me far too much and without Wanda we won’t make any progress on the Rachmaninoff.”

Gaping at her, you took a moment to process what she said. “You’ve never cancelled rehearsal before. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Now, Y/N. I have something I need to do,” Agatha said before storming out of the room, leaving you alone.

To say the MSO musicians were relieved Agatha had cancelled the remaining two hours of rehearsal would have been a vast understatement. You swore you never saw half of them move so quickly when you gave them the okay to leave. Since Agatha had apparently left for the day, you took the liberty of grabbing her belongings and dropped them off in her office on your way out. It wasn’t out of character for Agatha to lose her temper, you had grown used to her yelling and ranting. But her outburst backstage was unlike anything you had ever seen before. There was something the conductor wasn’t telling you, and while you had no idea what it was there was a sinking feeling in your chest that it had something to do with Wanda. Regardless of how curious, and anxious, you were over Agatha’s abrupt exit, you knew there was no good in worrying. She would tell you what was wrong...right?

It had been two days since you heard from Agatha. You received a call from management personnel early Saturday morning informing you that the conductor had cancelled all weekend rehearsals due to a stomach bug, which made you immediately go to call her until you remembered she left her shattered phone backstage. It wasn’t unusual for you to go a day without hearing from Agatha, the conductor valued her privacy and you respected her enough to give her what she needed. But after the practical smothering you had received from the older woman since the blind audition, it left you with a gut feeling that you had done something wrong.

What were the odds that Agatha was sick mere hours after storming out of rehearsal? They were slim, and it didn’t take a genius to tell you that. You had told Sam and Bucky what happened, and while they thought it was suspicious they also agreed that giving Agatha space would be the smartest move. Rationally speaking you knew that everything was fine, it just would have been nice to have received confirmation from the woman you were worrying so much about.

It had been a long time since you last had a Saturday off, so you spent your weekend watching Disney movies and napping while trying your best to keep your mind off Agatha. In fact you had been so distracted with the radio silence from the conductor that you almost forgot about Natasha Romanov and Vienna. The keyword being almost. You knew you needed to make a decision on if you were going to meet with the violinist, and you needed to make one soon. There was no guarantee Natasha would even choose you for her group, but still you found yourself imagining a world where you were performing in Vienna and finally getting to live your dreams. Only those dreams seemed somewhat bittersweet at the prospect of having them without Agatha. It was cliche being this attached this soon, but you couldn’t help it. You had never felt this strongly for anyone you dated before, there was something so different about Agatha that kept drawing you in.

Would it be fair to her if you moved to another continent when you were just starting your relationship? You knew she was concerned you would leave the Symphony after not getting the chair placement. While she had never directly told you, it was what made the most sense when considering her recent behavior. You didn’t want to leave her, you really didn’t. Agatha had given you so much while asking for nothing in return.

But the voice in your head asked if it was fair for you to stay somewhere you wouldn’t be happy. Would you grow to resent your job, or Agatha by association by remaining on as her assistant? Sam had been right when he said there were other jobs in New York City, but you knew nothing here would compare to the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. While quitting would allow the two of you to date publicly, maybe, it would also ruin any chance you still had of hoping to join the MSO. Was that something you were willing to sacrifice? You had a lot you needed to consider, you just wished Agatha was there to help you.

Monday morning came far too quickly for your liking. You were anxious to see Agatha, to make sure she was okay, but you also had to make up your mind on whether to meet with Natasha Romanov. Wanda had sent you a polite, but short, email late Sunday night asking if you made a decision or not. You were still just as torn as you had been all weekend, and sadly this was a decision only you could make for yourself. As you exited the coffee shop, you were slightly surprised to see Agatha’s car waiting for you. The rear window was rolled down and Agatha had her gaze fixated on yours. Giving her a small smile, you approached the car while balancing both coffees.

“Good morning Maestra. Fancy seeing you here.”

Agatha rolled her eyes before helping open the door. “Yes yes, good morning dear. Please hurry up and get in before I have Hank leave without you.”

“You’re in a mood today,” you said lightly after making yourself comfortable in the vehicle. “Rough weekend?”

Agatha grimaced at your choice of words before shrugging. “Oh it was fine. A lot better since I didn’t have to hear those morons butcher Dvorak on Saturday.”

You gave her a look as you motioned to your coffee. “Oh right, your stomach bug? Maybe this won’t sit well then, should I give it to Hank?”

The conductor all but snatched the coffee out of your hands, glaring at you. “Funny, as always darling. I’m feeling much better now.”

So she was sticking with the sick story. As much as you wanted to press and find out why she stormed out of rehearsal so suddenly, you thought it best to not start a possible argument this early in the morning. Besides, Agatha wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You decided to take the safe approach. “Well I should probably keep my distance in case you’re still contagious. Wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

“If that’s what you think best, dear,” Agatha replied. “I would hate to get you sick.”

That’s how things remained the rest of the day. Agatha was clearly not over whatever upset her on Friday, and it appeared she wasn’t willing to share her troubles with you. So you did what you did best, and ignored the persistent voice begging you to talk to her. You busied yourself with various tasks both in and out of the conductor’s office. Opening night was in two weeks and there was much to do still. Even though Agatha had promised to be nicer to the interns, it appeared her generosity had run out as you began counting the number of crying individuals sent running from her office since lunch. Her mood was only growing more and more unstable as the hours passed, and even you found being in her company to be slightly unbearable. Agatha was clearly stressed, and you understood she was under a lot of pressure, you just wish she thought of healthier outlets to relieve it.

Towards the end of the day you received yet another polite, yet persistent email from Wanda and you knew the time had come. On one hand you wanted to ask Agatha’s opinion on the potential job, for you valued her opinion over anyone else’s. But the fear of a fight, especially over something involving Wanda, was enough to make you realize now was not the right time to bring up a potential move to Vienna. Plus you were only meeting with Natasha, it wasn’t like she was going to offer you a job on sight. There would be little to no harm in setting up a meeting. Then you could talk to Agatha.

Satisfied with your decision, you sent a quick reply to Wanda stating you would be interested in meeting with Natasha before heading back to Agatha’s office. Hopefully the conductor had enough time to cool down to consider leaving work within the next few hours. However, when you opened the door you were surprised to find her hunched over her desk, eyes locked on her laptop. She didn’t appear to hear you enter, and a part of you wondered if you should leave and come back later. Ultimately deciding that you would stay, you lightly knocked on the door to attempt to draw her attention away from the screen. It worked, only when she finally looked at you, you saw something unfamiliar in her eyes. Fear.

“Y/N...” Agatha trailed off, and you could practically see the frown lines become embedded in her skin.

“Agatha?” You barely recognized the sound of your own voice as you approached the conductor. “What’s wrong?”

Before the conductor could reply, your phone began to repeatedly ding. Pulling it out of your pocket you felt your heart sink at the notification. You had several texts from Sam, Bucky, Monica, even Darcy, but what caught your eye was an article from The New York Times.

‘Agatha All Along? An Inside Scoop to the Alleged Affair Between MSO Conductor Agatha Harkness and Concert Pianist Wanda Maximoff’

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #agatha wandavision #agatha harkness x you #wandavision #wandavision au

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inkbyajm · 3 years

Text

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

< previous next >

Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way.

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?”

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late.

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse husband fic

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simpingfortheages · 3 years

Text

//EYE CONTACT//

CORDELIA GOODE X FEM READER

(ANGST AND FLUFF)

A/N : she be looong as fuck sorry nat sorry 😂

Eyes are the gateways to the soul, words and feelings can be exchanged by a simple act of making eye contact.

Cordelia is busy and seems to no longer have time for the reader . All the reader wanted to do was help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia knew that being Supreme was tiresome, but she never thought that it would be to this extent. She hasn't slept in almost a week and she is pretty sure that there is coffee coarsing her veins instead of blood. Cordelia has been up, keeping track of all the suspicious activities happening around the world in hopes the cause is a witch. That's just Cordelia for you. She is always looking out for others before herself. Putting the needs of others before her own. Staying up all day and night so that she can grow and teach those in her coven. She really is deserving of Supreme. Cordelia has been trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for the past while. Her head bobbing while filling out documents and having to shake her head ever so often to keep on track of whatever file she was reading. Cordelia's new project has been her trying to track down this other witch, however her attempts have been futile. Everytime she thinks she has a lead on the witch she seems to change location and vanish . The witch is powerful and would be a great addition to the Coven. This took a toll on her, She was snappish and everyone knew it, but no one blamed her because she was stressed, even Madison didn't annoy Cordelia or made any snarky comments. After internally debating with herself, the choice of sleep won. She shifted the stack of paper that she was currently working on to the side of the mahogany desk. She laid her arm on the desk and laid her head between the crook of the elbow while her other hand tried to massage away the 3rd on coming migraine. Her migraine for the past days were seemingly becoming worse, as though her body was begging her to stop and reset herself. She didn't have a choice at this point, she needed to rest otherwise she would have crashed and gotten less time to get work done.

Y/N's POV

I am fairly new to Ms Robichaux's academy, I was "enrolled" 3 months ago, not by choice but by force. I set my mother's boyfriend on fire out of accident. YES BY ACCIDENT.... Well maybe not all the way an accident. I got angry and let my temper get the best of me. Surprisingly I didn't get in trouble from my mother, she said something about a witch bloodline. I didn't really pay much attention to her words or have much time to react to what i did,because my mother was quick to call some witch lady whose hair was firey red and the way she spoke was regal. I later learned on the ride to the academy, that her name was Myrtle Snow. I have learnt the names of my fellow sisters Madison, Zoey, Queenie, Coco and Mallory. So far they have been fairly nice to me but I don't really interact with them much. Most of the times I keep to myself and listen to Fleetwood Mac in my room all by myself. Apparently everyone has someone to room with but me,not that I am complaining. But i must say, out of everyone in the Coven whom I've met so far, my favourite is the Surpeme. The first time we met I was taken aback by her beauty. The way her blonde hair rested delicately on her squared shoulders , the way her makeup was done in such a way that it highlighted all of her best features, which by the looks of it. It was her whole body. Her eyes were captivating , she smiled at me through them. I couldn't help but stare right back into her dark brown eyes, they held power and safety. The eye contact wasn't uncomfortable, it was an unspoken exchange.

Cordelia took it upon herself to show me around my new home. It was majestic, I took note of every detail ,from the paint brush strokes done on the painting that hung on the walls to the crack on the 4th step going up the twin staircases. My favourite place however was the Greenhouse. Well, her greenhouse. She told me that it was her place of relaxation,her get away from it all. The walls were covered with vines, the sunroof allowed the golden rays of the sun to filter into the room and paint all that it touches. The walls variety of plant species and herbs that she has collected over the years was quite impressive. It was beautiful. Overtime this became our habit. After dinner or lunch we would both make our way to the Greenhouse to create new concoctions. Whether it would be sleeping potions, manipulation potions or simply love potions. We never used on each other , it was just done merely for the fun of it. I felt happy for the first time in many. The little hugs ,inside jokes and nicknames we would share. It was all innocent fun at the time until, one time I was making a potion and Cordelia stood right behind me watching my every moves. I don't know what came over me, I dont know if it was the closeness of our proximity ,the warm breathe of her breathing that brushed my neck whenever she exhaled or the fact that she kissed my cheek right after telling me how good of a job I was at following orders. After that day I can't help but blush whenever we locked eyes. Light brown on dark brown. Neither of us looked away. Her eyes felt like home, a place that i longed to be. These few months I've developed quite an attachment to the Supreme,one might even say a crush on her.

However these past days I noticed that she was quite distant. She wouldn't catch on to the jokes I made, like she normally would. The amount of times she paced up and down the walkway in the Greenhouse, the layer of dirt and colour of orange on the brick floor started to fade. Cordelia kept ranting and complaining about finding a certain witch. Of course I didn't mind her talking to me. I always liked to know what new projects she was up too. But It was evident that this one occupied her mind. When she was with me, she wasn't with me mentally just her physical appearance. She would sometimes forget about our daily meet up, some days turned into few days and eventually a few days turned into none. I didn't hold anything against her. She was busy. I took it upon myself to help her find who this witch was. So you know she can spend more time with me,it wasn't a selfish act. Just killing two birds with one stone. Cordelia would be able to finally relax and I would get to spend time with her more often. It's a Win/ Win.

Cordelia just went into her office so that meant I had basically the whole evening until dinner to find out who this witch was. As I sauntered my way to my room. I began to recollect all what Cordelia told me. It was a little witch on the run, maybe she didn't what to join a Coven like me. Cordelia knew every thing about the little witch. She was a slippery one, evading the hands of the Surpeme. I remember her saying that the witch was a little younger than I was, with black hair and green eyes. Her speciality is Cloaking, she could cover her tracks very well. A rare skill some witches possess.I laid out my pens and my leather bound notebook on the bed and started to make notes of what i knew so far. After I was done, I realised it wasn't much information. I needed more if i was going to help Cordelia. I needed to see from another set of eyes. I shifted my notes aside and laid flat on the bed. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. No one knew but i was Clairvoyant. I could make myself hear and see what someone was thinking.

******time skip*******

THAT'S IT !!. I found the witch. She was running from something or someone. The little witch was seeking safety,maybe she did need to be in a Coven. Without any time to waste. I quickly wrote down all that I gathered into my note book. I couldn't contain my excitement, Cordelia and I will finally get to hang out like old times. I scrambled off my bed and made a beeline towards her office. *knock knock* "Dee I found out how to get the witc-" I began,but she wasn't in her office. Huh where is she then? . After a few minutes of futile searching in the upstairs I decided to check the kitchen. As I walked downstairs, the kitchen came into my view. There she was. My supreme making her possible 7th cup of coffee. I couldn't help my heart from fluttering at the sight of her. We haven't spoken in so long. " Hey Dee, do you remember when we used to hang out in the Greenhouse, i miss those times but thats not the point, anyways you always used to speak about this witch you couldn't find??Apparently I never told you but i am Clairvoyant which is really handy beca-" I rambled but was quickly cut off by Corldeia," Y/N! Be quiet . Stop talking Oh my God shut up. Please can't you see that I am busy and tired??"

Immediately I felt small, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole. Her eyes were locked on mine, the once safety and calm that I loved were replaced with anger and annoyance ....at me. I could feel my chest tighten, so tight that it began to squeeze my heart till it slowly cracked. I bit my tongue to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. It was evident that Cordelia's expressions changed based on my now small demeanour. I forcefully swallowed the lump that built in my throath. Out of hurt I threw my notebook on the marble counter where she rested her half way made coffee. The only words i spat out were "There's how to get your witch to join this shithole Coven Miss Goode". Her mouth was now slightly ajar at my words. No longer wanting to stay in her presence, I turned my heels and made my way back up to my room as Cordelia struggled to find her words.

*******TIME SKIP PT 2********

Thanks to me Cordelia managed to get in contact with the witch who will be joining the Coven in 2 weeks time. For these past few days I have suscessfully managed to avoid Cordelia. Of course I didn't avoid her presence. I had more dignity than that. I just made sure that I was never alone with her. That way she couldn't "apologise"or ask me the questions she really wanted too. I was mad at her. She didn't have to yell at me,I know i am talkative to people when i get comfortable with them, but still out of everyone to yell at me I would never suspect that it would be her. I no longer joined her in the Greenhouse to help her with her potions. Having breakfast and lunch with everyone was the worst. I no longer sat next to her at the table, instead I sat next to Madison,but that didn't stop her from trying to talk to me. As everyone else engaged in mini conversations at the table, Cordelia silently spoke to me from the head of the table " Y/N how have you been?". I lifted my head and focused my gaze from my tea cup to the silver in her bracelet, dismissing the hopeful look in her eyes. "I've been better Ms .Goode" I replied with extra emphasis on her last name. You know for an extra punch of guilt. Cordelia has noticed my lack of eye contact over the past days and she couldn't help but feel hurt at the act.

********time skip pt3**********

It was probably about 7 pm when i heard the clattering on heels on the floor. Shifting my attention from the crackling of the fireplace I looked over my shoulder to see that all the girls were dressed up and ready to head out somewhere. "Hey? Where are you guys going?" I questioned. "Out." Said Madison. I couldn't help but scoff at her reply. "Okayy???And you didn't ask me because??". Madison abruptly turned around "You and Cordy need to fix whatever is going on between you too. Don't think we haven't seen the change" she commented as she roughly pressed her index finger into my chest. Before I could even find my words. The door was slammed in my face. If Madison and the girls think that I am staying alone in the academy with Cordelia alone they are wrong. In another situation I would have taken that chance in a heartbeat. Lost and confused at the exchange that just happened, this gave Cordelia time to enter the living room. " Y/N?" She spoken almost in a whisper. I swear to the ex Supreme herself my eyes almost jumped out my eye sockets . My movements were stiffened as i tried to turn around. I took a deep breathe and attempted to make the situation fall into the better of my hands. " Yes Ms Goode? How are you?" I asked, while facing the floor. " I am sorry y/n I didn't mean to yell at you, you helped me a lot on my project and I cannot repay you enough" Cordelia spoke. I genuinely smiled at her gratitude "you're so very welcome Ms Goode" . Suddenly I felt her hands wrap around my form pulling me in a strong hug. I was stunned for a while and didn't know how to react. Sobs and small apologises fell from her lips as she buried her head into the crook of my neck. I reciprocated her hug but this caused her to cry even more. " Ms Goode please don't cry" I tried to comfort her, but all that left her mouth was a small, muffled "no". As she calmed herself she pulled away and wiped her tears away as she tried to look presentable. "Don't call me that. Call me by my nickname" she demaded. I chuckled at her command " okay dee." She cupped my face into her soft palms. I could smell her vanilla lotion that she regularly applies on her hands. She lifted my face to hers, but my eyes still didnt need hers. " y/n look at me" she whimpered. " Dee I am looking at you" I said smiling nervously as my eyes darted over the beautiful features of her face, never settling on her eyes. " baby..." she whispered. My heart constricted . Cordelia repeated the statement to look at her once more. This time I complied. Did she really mean that? does she like me back?. Her eyes were watering, her gorgeous brown eyes even when they hold the emotion of hurt. I still cannot help but stare in awe. Her eyes were filled with longing and hope. I don't know who closed the gap but our lips met in the middle. Kissing Cordelia was pure ecstasy, the kiss was one of tender and love. It felt as though part of me was finally completed. After a while we both pulled away, she delicately laced her slender fingers together with mine, interlocking our hands. Both of us trying to catch our breathe , Cordelia slowly leaned forward and gently rested her forehead against mine. Ever so quietly whispering to me the sweet words," and I do feel the same..."

#cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode #angst with a happy ending #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #fluff #ahs coven #ahs

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prodtrouver · 3 years

Text

Stuck With You

𖧷 You've always felt like he hated you. The way he acts cold with everyone and acts the coldest to you. It was as if he stayed away from you, so you wouldn't melt his freezing mask. Little did you know, that's exactly what he was doing.

Pairing: bad boy! Yeonjun x teacher's pet! Reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff, good reader x bad boy

TW: profanities, a little bit of bullying- nothing else (tell me if you see some) (also Yeonjun is kinda a jerk here, in the beginning only)

No. Of words: 1788

Wrote by Admin Lin ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺

You don't understand.

You never understand why he doesn't like you very much. Sure, he's the school's bad boy, and he treats everyone coldly, especially to you! If not, he treats you like he's freezing.

The way his face would cringe or show disgust whenever you're near him or the way he would shove you to the side when you accidentally shoved him. You just don't understand!

Today is no exception- the bad boy was talking to his friends. The sly smile plastered on his face, gone in an instant when he sees you walking towards him and his friends.

Unbeknownst to him, you were there to talk to one of his friends.

"Hey, Soobin- are you still down to go to the park this weekend? The others want to finish the film earlier and maybe, we could hang out." You smiled and insisted.

The tall male smiled, his dimple stood out. However, before he could answer...

"Why would he need to go with you?" Yeonjun spoke, and a frown appeared on your lips.

"It's a group project..." You whispered, doubted that he heard it because the expression of disgust stayed on his face. Soobin waved his gigantic hands in front of you.

"I'm free and I'm okay with it! If you and the others don't mind, we can have a picnic!" Soobin enthusiastically insisted, the sweet smile came back to your lips.

"Sure! I'll tell the others! See you in class!" You waved your hand and ran to your classroom. You felt excited and sad since you've always had a tiny crush on Yeonjun...

"Why did you accept?" Yeonjun crossed his arms, the sleeves of his blue varsity jacket folded up to his elbow. Soobin sighed in disbelief at his friend's 'bad boy' image.

Soobin opened his locker and took his needed books. He turned to face Yeonjun; "and when will you tell her the truth, coward?" He closes his locker and begins walking.

"I'm not a coward, and what truth? I got nothing to say to that teacher's pet or whatever," Yeonjun followed Soobin, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever- you like them, that's the reason you're like so freezing with them." Yeonjun groaned in annoyance at his words.

"Fuck no," Yeonjun avoided looking at Soobin's gaze.

"Just admit it, you like them!"

"No!"

Suddenly, Soobin stopped his tracks when he saw you with one of their friends.

"What you looking at-," Yeonjun stared at you and Beomgyu. Both having an annoying, delightful conversation outside of their classroom. Yeonjun felt even more annoyed than he already was.

He walked pass Soobin and head towards you and his dear friend. He forcefully shoved his shoulder against your arm and because of his tall figure, you fell back to the ground.

"Ow..." You looked up to meet Yeonjun's freezing and annoyed gaze. He rolled his eyes and entered your classroom before classes start. Beomgyu helps you up and Soobin rushes to your side.

"I'm so sorry, y/n- I don't know what got over him," Soobin clasped his hands together to apologize on behalf of Yeonjun.

"No worries..." You softly smiled and masked your hurt frown. Soobin muttered another 'sorry' before he followed his hyung.

"You and Yeonjun got beef or something?" Beomgyu raised a brow as you both enter the classroom. His palms in his pocket and his eyes glued on your shriveled figure.

"I don't know why he hates me- I don't remember doing something terrible to him," you both sat down two rows in front of Yeonjun and Soobin.

"I think you intimidate him," Beomgyu lets out a chocked chuckle at his words. You glare at him before you opened your history book, feeling eyes stuck on you from behind.

"How the heck so I intimidate the school's bad boy? I should be the one that feels intimidated," you replied, your eyes reading on the said history of two rulers hating each other, only to fall in love on the end.

Beomgyu noticed what you were reading and let out a laugh. You looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Foreshadowing," he patted your head while you remained puzzled. You asked what he meant, but he shrugged it off. A sly smirk danced on his lips.

You went back to reading and didn't notice Beomgyu turn around. His gaze met Yeonjun's and Soobin's who looked at him, curious.

Beomgyu's smirk only grew wider before he turned back to face you.

English class has always been your top subject. You would exile everything that subject has.

You enter the classroom, seeing that it is empty, you took your seat in the middle row. Your book in front of you whilst you rewrite your messy notes.

Suddenly, you heard the door open. In a glimpse of an eye, you saw Yeonjun enter. His eyes immediately landed on you, of course. You are the only person in the classroom.

You avoided his sharp gaze that was targeting you. You focused on your notes, although; the silence is making you sleepy.

Yeonjun's stern gaze was stuck on you. A soft smirk plastered on his plump lips when the thought came into his mind.

The thought of you forgetting there is no English class today. He lets out a scoff when you, aka the teacher's pet, and top student of your class, forgot there are no classes.

He saw how your head bobbed because of your drowsiness. Your eyes closing as if they gave up on you. The pen on your hand fell to the side before you rest your sleepy head on your folded arms in front of you.

Yeonjun quietly stands up from his seat and walked his way to you. His steps heavy yet peaceful. He sat on the chair in front of you.

Your very peaceful state baffled his feelings. He rests his arm on the back part of the chair to face you.

Your hair strands cover your attractive features, tucked behind your ears for Yeonjun to admire you.

Your kissable lips that remained irresistible to him since he first saw you.

Then he realized; he doesn't want to be around you. He's afraid to crush your heart with his bad boy demeanors, which is why he never paid much attention to you, and only showed you disgust and hatred.

He hates how you're his weak point, the key to his soft side. Especially since he admitted to himself that he truly does like you.

The eye bags under your eyes showed how exhausted you are from everything. Teachers putting their trust on you and for some, even pressures you to be a good example for your classmates.

He doesn't want to wake you up for 2 reasons. First, you're peaceful, tired, and beautiful (like always). Second, it's an opportunity for him to study your face features that just lured him to you.

He just lets time pass by.

Okay, maybe letting you sleep for a while is a bad idea. The sun has set and he notices a few lights of the school are now off.

That basically means you're stuck here at school for the night or until someone gets you.

Yeonjun faces you and gently wakes you up. "Wake up," he muttered, but no response. He did that again and this time, you woke up.

Your eyes widen, and you lean back on your seat. Yeonjun sat in front of you, his bitter expressions long gone and replaced with a concerned one.

You look around and realize the sun is gone. You no longer see the sun...

You look at Yeonjun, a puzzled with an annoyed expression on your face. He noticed and raised his arms,

"Not my fault- you forgot there is no English class today and fell asleep. That doesn't sound like my problem," Yeonjun stood up from his seat.

"That's the least of my problems right now... It's now evening! We're probably stuck here!" You stated and packed your things.

"They locked us in this classroom. They didn't notice us and just locked the door." Yeonjun stated, the tone of his voice was cold again. You sat back down as you ruffled your hair.

You're bombarded with home works and the school has no Wi-Fi for you to do your research. You groan in annoyance before you smack your head on the table.

Yeonjun was shocked- he has never seen you in such an annoyed state.

Silence took over as the clock continue to tick. You and Yeonjun seated far apart from each other; one in distress, one causes distress.

"Listen, I didn't mean to not wake you up-,"

"Oh, really? You hate me, so I'll totally believe that," you cut him off. He becomes quiet once again and watches you rest your head on the table.

"I can't believe I'm stuck with you," you sighed. Yeonjun crossed his arms, but you could feel a smirk on his lips.

"You should be grateful that it's me," he said. You turned your head to face him, a glare on your face. Instantly, his smirk disappeared, and he made his way towards you.

"Do you hate me, y/n?" He asked, and you were taken aback. He stood in front of you, his palms pressed against your desk, his eyes staring into yours.

You can't seem to look away either.

"I... Shouldn't I be asking that?" You looked down at his hands. The silver rings hugged his enormous hands look interesting, you find your feeling weird.

"I don't hate you, y/n- in fact, I actually like you." Now you feel dumb-founded.

Choi Yeonjun, the school's bad boy, aka the boy who treats you with disgust, likes you?

You shook your head and start flicking your forehead. Your eyes close shut when you feel the pain from your flicking.

"I'm not dreaming, right?" You glanced at Yeonjun, who had a sweet smile on. The butterflies in your stomach fly around.

"You're not dreaming, I do like you," he said once more for you to hear. You lean back on your chair in disbelief.

"Wait, wait- you still treated me like shit! How will you make me forgive you?" You realized and you puff your cheeks. You crossed your arms whilst Yeonjun leaned closer to your face.

"Close your eyes, I know a way," Yeonjun whispered. His haughty tone no longer there, instead it was a softer one. It felt more loving.

You did as you were told. You heard him snicker and suddenly; you felt something warm on your lips. You open your eyes at the same time the warmth left your lips empty.

You look up at Yeonjun, who cracked a smile.

"I'm stuck with you and I'm not complaining."

#txt ff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt aus #txt fluff #choi yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun txt #txt #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun ff #choi yeonjun ff #yeonjun imagines #⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺ admin lin

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