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0maisie0 · 1 month

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how about an idea for a fic about y/n and Toymaker: y/n is kind of in a relationship with him and can't help but wonder what it would be like to date someone else? and Toymaker doesn't like it and is a little angry with her. but in the end there is a hippie ending?

(I hope this is what you wanted.)

The vibrant red paint on Mr Emporuns toy shop shimmed in the sweet afternoon sun as you hurried down the street. A single handmade bag, filled with a variety of sewing needles, threads and fabric, rested in your palm as the ceramic doll heads in the window seemed to face you. Their dull black eyes seemed to shine at the sight of you and you were sure if they could move you would have felt fifty little china hands wrapping around your ankles in a twisted hug.

The bell chimed through the overstimulating shop as you shuffled past the red curtain. Toys lined the walls as you walked up to the empty dark oak counter and placed the bag down on it. The familiar grin of the toymaker was nowhere to be seen as you fiddled with the little merry-go-round that spun under your touch. The snow white horses spin around and around.

“Maybe he went out…” you muttered to yourself and stepped behind the counter, pulling out a half-finished doll dress from the shadowed shelf just below. It was one you had been working on in your free time, a small gift to adorn the doll the toymaker had gifted you when he had first confessed his feelings.

A soft smile covered your features as you remembered that day, but it was slowly replaced with a frown as the voices of your friends swam around your mind. The blushed mutter as she talked about her adoring husband and the extravagant evenings they had shared in London's finest locations. The new jewellery and gentle touch.

Your hands tranced over the miniature dress as you wondered when the last time you and the toymaker even went out for dinner. You supposed it can't have been for at least three months. He treated you like another one of his delicate dolls lying in his hands as he combed through their hair.

Before you could stop yourself your mind wandered to the other men that wandered the streets of Soho. Did they take their partners out as much as your friend said? Did they spend the last few coins they had on a new shiny bracelet just to see the smile on their wife's face?

A sigh escaped your lips and floated around the room, still no sign of the toymaker as your hands moved automatically to switch the side of the dress. Watching as the yellow threat pierced through the fabric over and over.

Would the man next door let you wake up alone almost every morning? Would the beggar around the street give his wife the warmest blanket in the heavy winter? Would the old landlord go three years without any sign of taking his relationship further?

“The landlord is a man of the town who likes much younger women.” a rich voice broke through the air behind you as two firm hands spun you around. You were so lost in your own head you didn't hear the door open behind you and the toymaker's face drop as your thoughts echoed through his mind.

The toymaker's hypnotic blue eyes stared down at you. He could see right through you as his hands rested on your hip, his thumbs rubbing over the soft fabric. His grey hair was perfect as always while his collar shirt wrapped around his neck and stayed fastened with a bow. Meanwhile the soft breeze outside had definitely swept itself through your hair and ruffed your dress.

“Something wonderful about me is,” he leaned down closer to you, his breath fanning over your face. His voice seemed to drop an octave. “I always know what you're thinking.”

A shiver of fear ran up your spine as the toymaker grinned down at you, pulling your body closer to his. His arms kept you locked against him, unable to escape his warm gasp even if you wanted.

“You were gone a while, doll, I hope you enjoyed your lunch,” he whispered in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your temple as he continued. “What friend was it again?”

His lips stayed just hovering over your skin as you muttered back, your voice wavering slightly. “Oh, umm, f/n, I grabbed some more thread on the way home… and there was fabric on offer…”

“Enough. I want to know what she put into your pretty little head to make you think of others.”

Your voice trailed off as the toymaker's words bled into it. Every part of him felt hypnotic as your face flushed and your body radiated heat. His hands gripped your tighter, leaving little ink marks from his nails. His waistcoat rubbed against your blouse as he stared down at you. Waiting… Expecting an answer.

“I…”

Nothing came as you stared up at him, your lips parted slightly as you stared deep into his icy blue eyes. He glared down at you, before his face soured and he hissed out.

“Don't protect her, I have been very lenient with you daring…” his face darkened as he continued. “letting you go out, giving you everything you so much, but you're mine, only mine and I will not let those petty little men out there take you away from me.”

You stayed silent as he pulled you through into the ever-twisting back of the shop. This time it was a long hotel-looking corridor with rows and rows of doors on each side. He pressed you against the wall, his hand pressing just below your neck.

“This is my domain, my universe governed by my laws. I will not have you thinking of other men.” slowly his hand moved down to your chest and his voice softened slightly. He could feel your heart racing, shaky and laboured breaths filling your lungs under his touch.

“I can feel your breath. It's so human…” his voice dropped to an affectionate mutter. “My beloved human.”

“Toymaker?” you muttered, pulling yourself away from the wall and into his body. “I don't… mean it. It's my thoughts, I can't control them and I want to be with you.”

He pulled you close to his chest, pulling open the nearest door to reveal the familiar sight of a warm bedroom. You had slept there for many years at this point with the burgundy french loveseat near the fire being a favourite of the toymakers as he sat you down on it.

“My precious doll, your poor human mind is too susceptible to the distractions of the world. I am all your mind needs to think about.” he ran his hand through your hair, smiling softly as you leaned into his touch and relaxed to his hypnotic voice.

“Il take you out to the Ritz, i'll show you the universe one day.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #the toymaker x reader #the toymaker #my favorite insane toymaker #drabble #dr who #the giggle

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severelytalentless · 3 years

Text

Red Eye Chapter 1

Stranger/Businessman!Getou x Fem!Reader

The flight isn't the only thing that's long..

A/N: This is what happens when I'm left alone with my horny thoughts at the airport. Thanks for adding me to the list@nkogneatho / @atsumuscumslut

CW/TW: sexual scenarios & strong language, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, shameless flirtation, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, semi-public fingering, orgasm denial

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

(telepatia - kali uchis)

Gate B9

You strut down the walkway to your gate. The wheels of your bag click across the tile floor in time with the click of your heels. You have plenty of time before your flight and it's been a long day full of business meetings with people that make you want to beat your head against the table. It's about time for a drink.

You take a seat at the airport bar and order an overpriced draft. You toe off your heels and wish you could take off these stockings as well. The bar faces the center walkway and is conveniently located across from your gate. You sip your beer and hope it’ll water down your stress levels. You pop your headphones in and zone out, judging people you'll never know as they walk by.

Tacky matching Hawaiian shirts..

Oh, honey, those pumps are way too high, this isn't a strip club..

Love that dress..hate the hair..

Woah...hold on..

Your eyes linger on a smartly dressed man sitting alone at your gate. He's reading the paper, you can't see his face. His shoes look expensive, so does his watch. Half of his long dark hair is pulled back into a bun that suits him very well. The man knows how to dress. You lean back in your chair and take a long drink, still appraising him. He folds the paper together to turn the page, revealing his profile. You smirk and hum to yourself.

Mhm..yea..he's hot. Very hot. Tall dark and so fucking handsome. Totally your type. He's got a face you'd like to see between your-

Oh, he's looking..

You look away in reflex, tipping more beer into your mouth. After pretending to check your phone, you glance back over.

He's still looking at you. His lips pull into the slightest smirk.

Oh..alright then

You knock back the rest of the pint and cross your legs, choosing to hold his eye contact.

The anonymity of airports tends to bring out your risky side. You may be a frequent flyer, but what are the odds that you'll ever see this particular guy again? You gamble that they're pretty low, so you decide to have some fun with this staring contest and play with this stranger a little.

You lock eyes with him, set down your glass, and reach up to release your bun and let your hair fall down around your shoulders. He slowly tilts his head and squints curiously at you. You smirk and unbutton the top of your blouse You lean back in your chair, threading your fingers through your hair and massaging your scalp.

He's still looking..

You like this game. It makes you feel sexy, holding the attention of a complete stranger like this. His obvious interest is turning you on a little. You roll your head and massage your neck, then trace your fingers down along your collarbone.

He folds his paper up and looks away, then checks his watch.

Damn it..you lost him..

Your bubble of confidence promptly bursts. You sigh and roll your eyes. Game over.

Wait..no.

He's getting up..

Oh shit..

He's coming over.

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

(you that I want - divine)

Your heart does an excited little flip and takes a shot of adrenaline as you watch him stride your way. You casually remove your headphones as he pulls out the chair next to you.

"Is this seat taken?"

Damn, he's even more handsome up close. That silky low voice tickles a chill up through your spine.

You maintain composure, flip over the part of your hair and shrug like you couldn't care less.

"All yours.."

He sits beside you and flags down the waitress.

"What are you drinking?"

"Whatever you're drinking.."

You see his eyes flick down to your neckline, then he holds your gaze as he orders.

"Irish whiskey please, straight. Same for her."

The waitress nods and hurries off, leaving you alone with your mysterious new friend. You both look out and watch the passengers walk by. He continues his flirty game of questions.

“Business or pleasure?”

"Business"

"Long day?"

"Is it that obvious?" he nods to your feet.

"No shoes" you huff a giggle. The drinks arrive.

"I like the stockings.." He raises his glass and looks you in the eyes again. You clink and he takes a sip.

"I like the cologne.. " you smirk and bring the glass to your lips. He watches the liquid pour into your mouth between the dark red lipstick. Filthy thoughts flood his mind.

"Single?"

"Free agent.." he raises an eyebrow and offers his hand.

"Suguru Getou" you lay your hand in his and sip your whiskey.

"Y/N L/N" he folds his thumb over your fingers and brings your hand to his lips, pressing them gently on your knuckles. A little blush washes into your cheeks at the chivalrous gesture. He looks up at you as he lifts them from your skin.

“Pretty name..”

Damn, his voice is so sexy.

“Thank you..” you smirk and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“Even prettier smile..”

You roll your eyes and finally take your hand from him.

“Well aren't you charming..” you joke, but it's true. His eyes travel south, taking their time navigating down your body.

“Great legs too..” you sip more whiskey and hum in agreement. This man is smooth with compliments, stroking your ego in all the right ways.

“And this hair..” he leans in and twirls a little bit around his finger. Your senses bristle when he leans even closer and whispers into your ear.

“Don't get me started on those fuck me eyes..” your heart thumps more heat into your cheeks at his bold words. You scoff through your smile and lightly bat him out of your hair.

“Oh behave” he hums and shakes his head, leaning back in to sweep your hair over your shoulder, letting his fingers lightly graze your neck just enough to make your shoulders drop and raise goosebumps on your skin.

“I prefer not to..” He hears the heavy little breath you just let out. You shift in your seat and try to calm your fluster with another sip of whiskey.

He has such an attractive confidence about him, so completely sure of himself. That and the way he's been subtly undressing you with his eyes this whole time has made you incredibly hot and bothered.

He can tell..

He's perceptive. He spotted you the moment you waltzed up to the bar in those seductive little black heels. He was checking you out while you watched those people pass by.

He knows your kind. An underrated pent-up workaholic with a kinky side. You don't take shit from anyone, but you have to work for old wrinkled men who see you as an office decoration.

He can tell you're so much more than that.

You're intelligent, sophisticated, and independent. Being ridiculously sexy is just a cherry on top.

He loves women like you.

He smirks and leans back in his seat glancing at his watch. He downs the rest of his drink before waving two fingers at the waitress for another round.

“One more?”

You throw yours back as well and he is visibly impressed.

“Oh..I like you..”

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

You're on whiskey number three, feeling warm and tingly all over. The suggestive banter hasn't let up, pouring fuel over the sexual tension that radiates from your little corner of the bar.

You're not thinking about work anymore.

You're thinking about the size of the carry-on item this man is packing in his trousers. He is the definition of big dick energy.

Meanwhile, he's already come up with about 5 different ways to make you cum on the plane.

“How often do you travel internationally for work?”

“Once or twice a month”

“First class?” you nod into your glass.

“The company takes very good care of me..”

He pauses and raises an eyebrow, swirling the drink around in his glass, thinking about how well he's gonna take care of you on this flight.

“Are you a member of the club?” you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Of course, but this airport doesn't have a member lounge, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting at this bar.” he grins and shakes his head.

“Oh..you are so cute..”

You both hear the PA system chime and announce your flight is about to begin boarding. He signs the air at the waitress for the check.

“I’m not talking about that kinda club, sweetheart..”

Oh..mile high club

Tingling heat drips down between your legs and your pulse flutters. He chuckles, seeing your eyes go wide and your brows jump at the realization.

He pushes out of his seat and collects his briefcase. You stand up quickly and realize just how tipsy you are as you slip back into your heels. You don't notice him move in close by your side until his hand slides across the small of your back. Your breath catches and you freeze as he leans to whisper in your ear. You can hear sex in his voice.

“I'll get you a membership..”

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

(hush - the marias)

Oh boy, maybe you shouldn't have had that last drink. Three hours into the flight and you still feel intoxicated, even after having dinner. You recline in your first-class seat and open the air vent all the way. The cool breeze fans the heat off your face, but you're still very hot and turned on by the statement Suguru left you with at the bar.

Your core twists and you sigh as you replay his words in your mind, letting your head roll back into the headrest. You writhe in your seat and close your eyes, kicking off your heels again. The temperature of the pooling heat inside you rises as you imagine him making good on that membership offer. You pet your thighs and consider slipping your fingers between.

"Are you thinking about me?" You flinch and snap out of your lusty headspace.

Well..not really.

The flight attendants have started taking their breaks and most of the other passengers in first class are asleep, so no one noticed him switch seats.

You roll your head over and look at him sitting next to you in the seat that was paid to be empty. He's lost the blazer and tie, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his collar is unbuttoned.

He's just so sexy..

He leans on the armrest and cocks his head, hiding his smirk behind his fist with his chin on his palm.

You raise an eyebrow and give in to this sensual urge.

“What if I was..” he hums and turns to slide the partition closed, separating your seats from the aisle. He's got you all to himself now.

The dim glow of the cabin lights looks good on you. Your pulse quickens as his fingers brush up your thigh over your sheer black stocking. He lifts the hem of your skirt, revealing the pretty lace trim on the stockings and the garter clip holding them up.

His cock stiffens in his trousers. You're so completely his type. Naughty elaborate lingerie is his weakness. Makes him wanna tear your clothes off and find out what the rest of it looks like. He licks his canine at the corner of the smirk that parts his lips.

“I’d ask how wet you are..” His eyes smolder at you in the soft ambient light. You eye fuck him right back and bite your pretty red lip.

You shift in your seat and uncross your legs. He watches you slowly spread your knees apart, fingers helping your skirt ride up even more. His jaw muscles clench and he hooks his finger under the lace, stroking back and forth over your soft skin. You reach over and tug on his collar, looking down at his lips.

“Why don't you check..” he clicks his tongue and lets his hand wander around the curve of your inner thigh and down between.

“You..are..trouble..”

The hushed words fall from his lips one by one as he toys with the edge of your panties. He strokes into the wetness soaking through the fabric, igniting your arousal as if it were a match to be struck. The pressure lights you up and you inhale sharply.

“Hhu..Sugu-”

You hold your tongue and swallow the rest of his name. He chuckles in his throat and relishes the lewd expression he just put on your face. He takes your little display of self-control as a challenge.

You grip the armrest tighter and paw at his shirt as he slides his fingers into your lace panties and dips into the brimming slick between your folds. Your breath comes out hot. He growls into your ear in approval of your dripping wet cunt.

“S’this all for me, hm?”

He rolls your clit in slow circles and hums through his devilish smile. Your mouth drops open as your eyes fall shut.

You nod. It's all for him.

“Huh..ye-yess..”

There's the lusty sigh he wants to hear.

“Such a good girl..getting all wet for me like this..”

He praises your arousal and keeps pushing more pleasure through your clit into your core. You can't help but whimper and hum. It feels so naughty letting him do this to you with other passengers just inches away. He leans in and breaths against your neck.

“D’you want me to make you cum right here in your seat?” he rubs a little harder, a little faster. Your back flexes and your breath catches.

“Mm-hm..” you nod more urgently. He lands a kiss on your neck and you swoon, blood rushing in all directions through your body.

Fuck this is way too hot..

“I wonder how long you can keep quiet..” He glides his fingers down and teases your tight slippery little entrance, then sinks them inside, watching your head tilt back and your brows furrow in pleasure. A quiet breathy moan escapes your parted lips. He nuzzles in and growls more erotic words into your ear.

“Shh..keep it down babe..you don't want them to find out what I'm doing to you..how deep my fingers are inside you..” you bite the next moan into your lip as he licks your neck, then sucks a mark up into the hot skin. It makes you shiver and squirm around his thick fingers. He strokes the knot in your core and your back flexes against the seat again.

“Or do you..”

He pushes in, knuckles deep. You try your best to hush the pretty little sounds he's pulling out of you. He clicks his tongue.

“Maybe you like the attention..want them to hear you moan like that? I bet you do..”

Even if that wasn't true, the digits curling inside you make it impossible for you to hold it together.

“Hu-oh fuck..right..there..don't stop..” you pant out the whispered plea, breath catching on every syllable. He's so damn good at this, it makes eyes water.

“Not until you're shaking sweetheart..” you whimper. His words are lethal. Your core throbs and twists and begs for release.

“You’re gonna cum right here..then I’m gonna fuck you senseless..” He's a man on a mission and it's too fucking sexy.

His eye contact is intense and your heart punches at your ribs.

Then he thumbs your tender needy clit forcing your eyes to the back of your head.

“Uuh! Shhhit..ahh-ooh..right fucking there-yess..” You quiet the panting outburst of desire down to a strained whisper and arch hard in your seat, clutching onto both armrests for dear life.

You go silent and seize up as you peak, toes curling in your stockings, desperate not to scream.

He purrs more filth into your ear, fully solidifying your climax.

“I don't care if they hear you. Fucking cum for me..”

You groan and fall into it, shuddering and writhing as he continues to knead that blissful spot inside you. You hold your breath as he eggs you on further, patronizing you in that silky tone and rubbing into your pulsing clit even more.

“Yes..that’s a good..fucking..girl..I know you like that..does it feel good baby?” you bite down hard into your lip and nod feverishly with tears on your lashes before your eyes cross up and your head falls back. Your whole body convulses, feet pushing into the nearest surface, cunt clenching around his pumping fingers. He watches you fall apart.

You can't hold back anymore.

It's too fucking good.

You release an explicit cry over the droning hum of the aircraft engines and pull in a sharp gasp. Blood flares up into your cheeks and your heart beats wildly, you throw your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. He grins while you struggle to control the breathy whimpers that follow.

His cock couldn't be any harder. He fucking loves this, making you cum in public, forcing those trembling moans, watching your body flex, feeling your sticky walls contract around his fingers.

He slows down his assault, but he's not stopping.

He won't stop.

He's having too much fun pushing you past your threshold of stimulation. You squirm and tug at his sleeve, eyes begging him to have mercy on your swollen electrified clit. But the slow torturous circling continues.

“You wanna scream so badly, don't you..poor thing..”

You nod again and cry into your palm, pressing your thighs together around his arm but he just won't stop. You jerk and flinch and feel another orgasm clawing its way up into your core. He bites his grin, his eyes gleam with malicious intent. You're such a pretty mess. He knows you'll never forget this. Tears roll from your eyes.

"You wanna cum again?"

Oh God..

You grasp his forearm, nodding frantically.

His fingers tug you to the edge from the inside.

You scrunch your eyes shut and brace for another orgasm.

Then he stops.

"Not yet sweetheart.."

Your eyes fly open and you whimper at the loss of traction. You're so worked up. A needy ache grabs and twists the knot that he retied so quickly inside you.

"Please..please" it isn't like you to be so pathetic and shamelessly horny, begging him for more like this. But you don't care. You're not just drunk off the whiskey anymore. This man is intoxicating all on his own, and if you never get to see him again, you're gonna make the most of him on this plane.

He smirks at your frustrated state and pulls his fingers out of you. He casually licks them and rubs your stocking as you pant. Then he brings them to your lips and you open up willingly, tasting your own arousal. He holds your chin with his other hand and gives you instructions as you lick his knuckles clean.

"Be a good girl..take off your panties..bring them to the bathroom.."

You nod obediently. He pats your flushed cheek and slides the partition open.

"We'll need something to put in your mouth while I'm fucking you.."

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

@yelzoldyck

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Text

Blood and Boos

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Haunted House OneShot

Lorcan gets roped into doing a Haunted House. Elide tries her best, but she isn't a fan of jump-scares. What could go wrong?

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2348 words

*******

"No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No way, I'm not doing that.” Lorcan wasn't going to budge. There was no way he was giving in to their stupid request.

“If I can do it, you can do it.” Rowan took a sip of his beer and leveled a look at him over the rim of the bottle.

Snorting, Lorcan shot back, “Just because your girlfriend’s got you wrapped around her finger, doesn't mean I'm going to do it.”

Rowan raised a brow at him, “And yours doesn't?”

It was Fenrys’ turn to snort. He grabbed his own beer and hopped up onto the counter. “Lorcan, Elide’s got you more whipped than Whitethorn over here.” He motioned to a smirking Rowan.

Rolling his eyes, Lorcan just repeated, “I’m not doing it.”

Sighing, Rowan asked, “Even if Elide asked you to? You’d still say no?”

“It doesn't matter what I would do—” Of course he would do it if she asked, albeit begrudgingly and full of complaints, but he’d do it. “Because she didn't ask me to. Aelin asked you to help out with this one.” he nodded at Fenrys.

The blond grinned at him. “Come on Lorcan, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?” He seriously doubted that. The last thing he wanted to do was put on a ridiculous costume and watch teenagers pretend they weren't scared just to impress their friends.

“It's a Haunted House, Lorcan,” Rowan tried again, “We’re not asking you to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters”

“Yeah,” Fenrys chimed in, jumping down from the counter, “You’ll get to scare people for three hours. And get paid. You already do that for free just walking down the street with that scowl.”

Lorcan’s response was the aforementioned scowl and a simple one-fingered salute.

“Ha. Ha. My answer is still no. You won't get me in an absurd costume and I won't be doing your stupid haunted house.”

Rowan was interrupted from responding by Lorcan’s phone ringing. Neither had noticed Fenrys subtly typing away on his own phone beneath the counter.

He recognized his girlfriend's ringtone and toned down the irritation that was seeping into this voice.

“El,” Rowan and Fenrys perked up at the sound of her name, trying to listen to his conversation. He waved them off and walked into his room. “Hey, what's up?”

He could hear her laughing at something said in the background and then her voice ran through his speaker, “Hey Lor! I was just talking with Aelin and she was telling me about this awesome—”

“Is this about the haunted house?” He cut her off, already groaning.

“How’d you know?” She sounded surprised...almost too surprised…

“I’ll let you guess what I was just talking about with Rowan and Fenrys. And before you ask—” He rushed on, knowing that once she did, there’d be no way he could say no to her, “I am not going to dress up and play monster all night just because you think it would be so fun.”

He heard his girlfriend groan exasperatedly at his insistence, “Oh, come on, Lor. It really would be so fun! You guys would be in the haunted house and Aelin and I could keep coming through all night to keep you company. And just think,” She lowered her voice, he guessed so she wouldn't be overheard, “there will be lots of dark corners that we could sneak off to.”

He let out a long sigh. Gods, this woman had some magic power over him.

“...Fine.”

“Oh yay!” He could hear the smile in her voice and it made the scowl he wore soften a little. “This is great! Go let the guys know, I’ll tell Aelin. And babe?”

“Yeah, El?”

“I know you’re not super excited, so as a reward for stepping out of your comfort zone, I promise to make the night exciting.” He could picture her winking at him through the phone.

Chuckling, he ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll hold you to that, babe.”

“Love you, Lor! Bye!”

He said a quick “Love you, too.” before she hung up.

With one more resigned sigh, he walked back out to see Rowan and Fenrys muttering to each other. They both turned to look at him expectantly.

“…what time should I be there?”

***

Elide wasn't exactly sure why she agreed to convince Lorcan to do the haunted house. She had been out with Aelin when Fenrys texted her telling her that she needed to get Lorcan to agree. Aelin caught the text over Elide's shoulder and insisted she call Lorcan.

“Ooh, that'll be great! Your grumpy boyfriend can keep mine company. And hey,” Aelin beamed at her, feeling satisfied at how things were coming together, “knowing that it's the guys who are dressed up and not some rando, you don't have to be so scared about going!”

That was why Elide couldn't figure out how she’d agreed to both getting Lorcan to do the Haunted house, and also to going through it herself.

Elide loved Halloween...the cute, fun, wholesome parts of Halloween like carving pumpkins and watching cheesy Halloween movies, and wandering through corn mazes. She didn't love the over-the-top scary, ‘you're going to be so terrified you’ll wet yourself’ parts of Halloween.

But she could put on her big-girl pants and get through one night of terror. And, maybe Aelin was right. Maybe knowing that the ax murderer jumping out at her was one of her friends or her boyfriend, would make it less scary.

That's what she tried to tell herself as she and Aelin waited in line for the haunted house two days later.

Lorcan had refused to tell what his costume was, but she knew Rowan was some kind of zombie, and Fenrys was going to be, yup, an insane ax murderer.

She and Aelin would go in, find the guys, maybe hang out and watch them scare people for a bit, and then they’d leave. Elide knew Aelin wanted to come through a second time later on, and she promised Lorcan she would find him and take advantage of one of the dark corners she mentioned before.

Two times through the haunted house, she could do this.

***

She couldn't do this.

Elide let out another piercing shriek as a hand jerked out of the cobwebs to grab onto her arm. She spun, ripping her arm out of their grasp, only to hear a dark laugh and another hand brush the back of her head.

Whipping back around she saw Aelin pull her hand back, grinning.

“Ae, I love you, but I’m going to kill you.” She was jumpy, ready for something else to pop out at her. “I am going to murder you for making me come here, and no one is going to help you or find your body because they’ll all think you’re just some prop for this gods-awful house.”

“Oh El, I’m sorry,” but Aelin was grinning through the fake blood splatter on her face making Elide roll her eyes and huff. “Let's go find our big, strong boyfriends, and they can make us feel better.”

It should have sounded comforting, but Aelin wiggled her eyebrows at the end, and Elide chuckled lightly.

“That doesn't sound like you, Ae—the last bit, sure—but not the first.”

Tossing her head back to laugh as she draped an arm over the shorter girl’s shoulder’s Aelin laughed.

“Please, they just like to feel useful.” She winked, but Elide could see the fondness on Alein’s face as she thought about Rowan. “Let’s keep going.”

All Elide did was groan.

***

Lorcan was tired of this. He’d been stuck wearing a mask with a supposedly scary face on it, but besides that, he was just wearing his normal all-black attire. Black jeans, black hoodie, black boots.

According to Fenrys, Lorcan was already scary enough.

At least he didn't have to wear the zombie get-up Rowan had on. Lorcan didn't want to know how long it had taken him to put all the green undead-looking make-up on—something he was sure Galathynius was responsible for.

Lorcan wasn't about to admit it, but he was having a little fun scaring people. He had positioned himself in a corner, just behind a turn in the hall. He could hear when people walked by him, but they couldn't see him until he wanted them to.

All he had to do was take one step, say “boo” in his deep, deadpan voice, and watch as the victims screamed, jumped, or ran away. One guy had let out such a high-pitched wail that Lorcan thought the glass on the window might break.

He’d been there for almost an hour; apparently, Elide and Aelin took longer to get there than planned because they hadn’t come through yet. He was getting a little grumpy, having been promised alone time with his girlfriend somewhere private when she made her way through.

Another group of teenagers walked by. Another “boo.” Another shriek. Another herd of footsteps running down the hall away from him, but unknowingly towards the enthusiastic ax murderer.

He settled back into his corner and waited some more.

He heard a pair—no, two pairs—of footsteps getting closer to him. Maybe he’d have some fun with these people; he wouldn't half-ass his attempt this time. As they turned the corner, Lorcan took a breath and leaped out in front of them.

Several things happened one after the other.

Lorcan roared “Boo!” Not the scariest thing to say, but his size, stance, and volume made up for it.

The pair, two women, screamed. One severely louder than the other.

In less than a moment, he recognized his beautiful, terrified girlfriend.

Elide, letting out her shriek, and unable to see Lorcan’s face beneath the mask, moved instinctually letting her body take over instead of thinking.

She drew her arm back and punched him in the face.

Lorcan’s head flew backward, not expecting the impact.

“Elide!” Aelin gaped at her friend, but Elide was still screaming, partly because of the heart attack she knew she was having and partly because her hand immediately began to hurt once she made impact with the masked man’s face.

Lorcan grunted, bringing his hand up to hold his definitely broken nose. He could feel the blood already dripping down behind the mask.

“Fuck!” He groaned, managing to pull the mask off his swelling face.

The moment the mask was off and his face was recognizable, both ladies’ eyes went wide.

“Lorcan?” Elide screeched, moving toward him, her face caught between disbelief and guilt. “Oh, my gods, Lorcan! I’m so sorry!” She tried to touch his face but he winced as she brushed his nose.

Devastation crossed her face as she took in the very real blood and bruising on her boyfriend’s face, all caused by her.

Alternatively, Aelin found it all hysterical. She was bent over, cackling, tears streaming down her face. She was laughing so hard that soon she wasn't making any sound, just clapping her hands together so she could continue to show her amusement.

“Oh, Lor—”

“I’b okay,” he muttered.

Elide sighed dejectedly, “When you say I’b instead of I’m it means you’re not okay. Gods, I can't believe I punched you.”

“You punched him!” Aelin got out between laughs. “This is one of my favorite moments, ever.”

“Oh hush Ae.” But her lips tugged up at the corner.

“I saw ‘at” Lorcan said, his words getting clogged by the swelling of his nose and the blood dripping down, and letting Elide fuss over him.

“Saw what?” She asked innocently, trying not to hurt him and she turned his face from side to side.

“ ‘at little sbile” That little smile.

She gave him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, careful not to put pressure on the broken part. “You’re the one who jumped out and scared me, you should be proud that my instinct when being attacked is to punch my attacker.”

He rolled his eyes. “But it's be,” But it's me. He gestured to himself.

“Yeah, but you had a mask on, and I was already on edge after someone,” she glared at Aelin who had finally calmed down, “made me walk through this entire monstrosity of a setup.”

Elide gave him another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth.

“It’s by nose ‘ats broken, not by lips.” He pointed out when she pulled away.

She laughed, and her smile almost made his broken face worth it—almost.

“Come on, let's get you to the hospital,” She cringed thinking about having to explain to the doctors how this happened, “and when they give you the all-clear, I’ll give you all the kisses you want.”

“You two go,” Aelin told them and tossed Elide the keys to her car, “call me later. I’m gonna go find Ro and Fen and tell them all about this.”

Elide rolled her eyes as Lorcan flipped Aelin off and Aelin waved cheerfully back before practically skipping down the hall.

“I’ll give it to you, ‘at was a damn good punch.” Lorcan grabbed her hand, pulling her into his side as his other hand kept a firm hold on his face.

She smiled up at him, but he could still see the guilt on her face. “Well, I did learn from the best. Now, please use your hulking body and bloody face to scare off any more characters as we leave.”

He laughed as best he could and pulled her tighter against him. “I t’ink ‘hey should be more scared of you.”

Luckily they didn't run into any more jump-scares on their way out.

Once they were in the car—Elide forcing Lorcan into the passenger seat after pushing it all the way back for him and climbing into the driver's seat herself—they left the grounds and started driving towards the hospital.

“You know,” Lorcan said, glancing over at his brilliant, violent girlfriend, “when you said you’b promise to make the night exciting, this is nob what I had in mind.”

Okay, so maybe her smile did make his bloody face worth it.

***

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

Text

Owed

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1377)

(Found this gif on Google images, so credit to whoever made it)

“Right this way, Miss.”

You followed the security guard through the gala’s main entrance hall.

Adorned with sparkling jewelry all through your hair, and matching diamond and ruby necklace and ring set, you were a vision in red. Your form fitting, crimson gown had a wide side slit, offset by your black velvet gloves.

Eyes were drawn to you as you all but glided across the room. The chandelier bathed your brown skin in a warm glow. On your first sweep you spied three generals, quite a few senators, and a room full of dutiful donors and their plus ones. Not one journalist.

“We need exactly forty-six minutes and eighteen seconds,” Mo, a crew member of yours, told you over comms. If they needed it, you’d get it.

“Alright, just get it done.” You replied under your breath.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mo responded and the line cut out. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and took a sip.

“Care for a dance, doll?”

You were getting sloppy on the job. You had to be, because to miss such an obstacle as Captain America and whatever other agents he brought with him, would have never happened five years ago. You shook off your surprise and smiled, your lips parting to show white teeth.

“I don’t know, a dance with a handsome stranger seems too cliché,” You teased. He lit up at his supposed anonymity.

“Steve. Do I get upgraded from stranger enough for a dance?” He persisted, but made no moves toward you.

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

“I guess you do,” You lifted your gloved arm to him, expectantly.

Steve gently squeezed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The two of you were a perfect fit as you swayed across the room. Other guests gawked, with either jealousy or curiosity, you didn’t know. As the song ended the two of you stood, still close enough together for your breaths to intermingle.

During your dance you counted the two agents Steve brought with them out of the corner of your eye. One was a woman, blonde. Probably SHIELD. The other was a man with a gap toothed grin. He didn’t move like a regular agent, but definitely trained.

You needed more time.

“Thanks for the dance, Steve. See you around,” You said, sounding as flippant as you could.

As you pulled away, Steve whirled in front of you offering his arm. You linked yours with his and smirked up at him as he led through the crowd. He leaned down to your ear.

“Gorgeous, your face didn’t come up once on the guest list,” he whispered. You didn’t react, allowing him to guide you further away from the crowd.

“Since I’ve been made, I gotta say you’re a great dance partner, Captain.” You countered.

The male agent was waiting for the two of you in a corner off to the side. Steve’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. In a threat assessment, Steve wanted you more towards him than his second in command. A selfless leader willing to put his life in danger over his team’s.

So he was as much of a dream in real life as he was in your history books growing up.

“Why is it always the fine ones?” Number Two complained as Steve sat you down. You were flanked on either side, quite literally backed into a corner.

“Nine minutes and twenty three seconds, remaining,” Mo called out in your earpiece. You didn’t reply. Instead, you caught a glimpse of the female making the rounds, most likely checking for any others.

“You can call your girl off, I don’t bite.” You teased. Steve folded his arms over each other and leaned towards you.

“Why are you here?” He asked. His lips twitched and he coughed when he caught you staring at them. You looked him in the eye with no shame.

They were nice lips for a white guy.

“You know, I didn’t peg you as the type who only protects rich white folk, but I guess that’s why your partner’s here. To look out for the rest of us,” Your eyes flicked over to the dark skinned man. He was refreshing, really.

“I’ll ask again: why are you here?” Steve demanded through a tight lipped smile. To spectators, it looked like you and the captain were flirting, so they tried to avert their gazes.

“You play with toys, Captain. I do business.” You stated, not missing a beat.

You removed a ruby ring from your gloved hand and sat it across the table. Both men watched you and it like hawks.

“I take what I am owed by my country, because my country didn’t love me enough to do right by me the first time. Your partner understands.” You said in a breathy voice.

“I get paid just fine.” He told you. You were right about him not being an agent. You could feel the military bravado coming off him from a mile away.

“Two minutes.” Mo said. You smirked.

“Sure you do, soldier. But do you get paid his bucks?” You asked him, never sparing Steve a glance.

You had a feeling the answer was no.

“I have a pension with seventy years worth of interest on it. Now, what’s your name?”

You smiled and turned towards him. Finally, a better question.

“Y/N. Ask your friend Bucky about me. I doubt he’s here, so ask him when—“

Steve cut you off. The games were over with. His expression darkened, his blue eyes harsher than when they first appeared.

“You’re stalling. Fan out and find whoever she’s protecting.” He ordered.

Both the soldier and the agent separated to look for your crew. They were long gone. Steve’s iron grip kept you in place, the advantages of a super soldier.

“Pro-tip Captain, it’s only stalling if you need the extra time. I just like hearing you talk.” You admitted.

Taking your free hand, you flagged down a waiter. As he drew nearer, your eyes turned a startling shade of purple and so did the waiter’s. Before Steve could react, you used your power to get inside the poor waiter’s head and made him see the single most person he wanted to hurt.

It was an older man, probably his father. Predictable.

The waiter launched himself at Steve before he could react, and the hand that gripped you was no more. You slid out from the small booth and out in the open. The man was going rabid, but Steve was fending him off in the nicest possible way. The attention of the crowd was on them, but the soldier from earlier wasn’t as easily fooled.

“I’m on her.” He replied, pushed through the masses to get to you.

“Sorry, man. I hate to do this to a brother, but...” You trailed off, and your eyes flashed purple again.

You made him see what he wanted most. This time the man, Sam, was stuck in a vision about him, dawning the Captain’s shield. Go figure. Sam stood stock still, his dark eyes turned a vibrant purple. You slipped out of the front door into a waiting car.

As the driver sped off, you could see Steve bounding down the street after you. He recovered from your little sideshow, and was gaining on you. Damn, he was good.

Opening up the skylight, you made eye contact with him, stopping him in his tracks. The vision was of you and him dancing like you had been doing only an hour ago.

So he was a romantic at heart.

You sat back down and used your powers to nudge Steve closer to the curb. You had no doubt that the man could take the hit, but there was something about him that stopped you from allowing it to happen.

Besides, incoming traffic honked and swerved to avoid being hit by you or him, anyway. No civilian would be seriously injured and your stunt put enough distance between the two of you that you weren’t followed.

“All thirty mil is accounted for and ready for distribution.” Mo sounded off. You smiled and fingered your diamond necklace.

“Great work everyone, you know what to do,” you praised your team through your earpiece. The only bumps in the plan came from your end. You clicked off your comms and put it in your purse.

As you sat back in your seat and pulled up the partition, your mind drifted to the Captain. You went off into the night with the memory of a handsome man who kept you on your toes all night. It was a shame you couldn’t enjoy him longer.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You whispered.

A secret goodbye to a man who wasn’t yours and would never hear it.

…

“JARVIS, I need you to ID someone for me. Keyword: Y/N.”

Steve was standing in Avengers Tower in an undershirt and the dress pants he had on earlier. He was staring intensely at the only image the camera could get of the jaw dropping woman who bested him. He blushed just thinking of the images you made him see.

“She’s in the wind, man. And that’s probably a fake name.” Sam chimed in as he entered the room, yawning.

“She made me see things,” Steve started, but Sam threw his hand up with a look of almost guilt in his eyes.

Steve elected to ignore that.

“Sir, there is no record of a Y/N ever existing.” JARVIS stated.

Steve clenched his jaw and thought back to what you said about Bucky.

“JARVIS, pull up Hydra’s enhanced program. I doubt we’d get a name, but a list of abilities and weaknesses will do. Cross reference with any known or suspected holding facilities Bucky was in.” He ordered.

Sucking in a breath, he still smelled hints of your perfume. It had been so long since he held a woman without the last name Carter. It was different, but he enjoyed it right up until the part where Sam said you were an uninvited guest with no ID.

Steve had the worst luck with women.

JARVIS pinged up a short list of Hydra experiments.

Only one fit.

“Sam, can you go wake up, Buck. We need to talk to him about his ex-cellmate.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #marvel mcu #marvel #poc!reader #black!reader

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 2

Part 1

This is gonna be many more parts... I can already tell

Word Count: 2.2k

SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader!

- Admin Myah

You spent your entire free period up on that roof, hoping by some miracle that you weren’t crazy, that the group of second-year students that had seemingly vanished before your eyes were in fact pranking you, and upon seeing that you weren’t amused, would get tired of hiding and pop out, finishing the surprise. No such luck, however, and so you left, the second-period bell forcing your hand. Spending the first period of your day - a bit of free time meant for studying, finishing homework, or otherwise enriching yourself educationally - up on the roof and unaccounted for by any teachers was a bit risky already, and you were a decent enough student. There was no way you could just sit there all day, skipping the rest of your classes. Sighing, you resolved to just give up the hunt for your destined main character and by extension the group of potential new friends.

＊

Often after school, you headed to the library, which stayed open along with a select few other areas of Shujin for student use after the last bell rang. Today, however, you felt drawn back to that place, back to that rooftop where you’d seen Akira, Ryuji, and Ann disappear hours earlier. It just wasn’t sitting right with you; you felt a stirring in your soul, like a tiny voice in your head, a shimmering blue butterfly in your stomach. Lucky for you, the rooftop was also open, though you’d never really spent time there. Certain students, including another third-year you admired raised plants up there where the sun could reach them, while others simply came up there for the view or the breeze, some private space to study.

Today, the breeze was indeed blowing, and you sat there writing as it whistled past your ears, polishing up some plot points, scrawling down ideas for your protagonist straight from the imagination, since it seemed you wouldn’t be finding any real-life inspiration anytime soon. It was frustrating, writer’s block, and for the past month or so, it’s all you could do to write a single paragraph. You always found yourself lost in the pages of the novels you loved, and you could identify great writing, appreciate the artistry of another writer, but it was sometimes so hard to put your own thoughts down on the pages of your journal. Why was it so hard? You knew what real romance was. You knew which themes and cliches were overdone and unrealistic. You had a mature and healthy outlook on real relationships and could pick apart the stereotypical female protagonist who was strong and independent until she met the man who would break down her walls or the toxic bad boy who women loved on paper but would cry their eyes out over in real life. You’d read thousands of books and fan-fiction, listened to hundreds of audiobooks, watched tons of romance movies, so why, lately, was it not clicking?! Where was the disconnect between having thoughts and transcribing said thoughts down into your very own masterpiece? Fantasy came so easily to you, sci-fi, non-fiction essays for class, mysteries, research papers, but romance, the genre you loved the most, seemed to purposely elude you.

You were shaken out of your frazzled state when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Shaking your head a bit to try and focus your vision, you looked over your shoulder to see that the black spot on the fringe of your blind spot was in fact actually there. You rubbed your eyes just to be sure, but there it was, a wavering black inky spot hovering in the air. Another appeared, then another, now red in color. You were beginning to feel insane for the second time that day, but rather safe than sorry, you quickly stood, shoving your work and pencils into your bag and shuffling away from the blobs, which were now oscillating and dancing around each other, phasing in and out of existence like a fisheye lens. This was a bit too freaky for your liking, and you were beginning to feel a frightening chill up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you elected to put some kind of barrier of safety between yourself and the floating bubbles. Like any rational person, your mind was screaming “unknown situation: possible threat: run!” but again, that little butterfly in the pit of your guts was saying there was something worth staying for. So, running to the door to the roof, you swung it open, a ringing in your ear starting to buzz and chime. You closed it frantically, pressing your nose up against the small glass windows that allowed a limited view of the roof. A small gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto your bag a bit tighter.

The red and black splotches began to dissipate and fade like some kind of glitch in reality, and three figures appeared like mist, like ghosts before beginning to solidify and slowly become tangible silhouettes. Then, as if some kind of magic ritual was coming to a close, the figures poofed into existence, and your brain processed the scene before you.

“Holy shit…” you whispered. There, clear as day were Sakamoto, Takamaki, and the new kid. They were just standing adjusting their clothes, stretching their arms and legs, situating their personal items. It was just then that you saw a little furry head poke up out of Akira’s school bag. Your harsh, analytical gaze softened a bit upon seeing the small black cat that appeared. Had he been carrying that cat around all day? Surely not, right? How would he keep it quiet and still? “What the…?” The inquisitive glare returned to your features when they began… speaking to the cat. It wasn’t the cute baby talk people often use with their pets, either. It was a full-on, serious conversation, and the cat was meowing back, clearly, in response to their statements.

It was a bit muffled by the thick door, but you could make out bits and pieces.

Metaverse? Palace. Shadows... treasure? Kamoshida? Great, that asshole, but what could he have to do with this? What even was this?

You were questioning everything you knew. You were wondering if the juice you had this morning at breakfast was spiked. There was no winning in this scenario, either you were crazy, or these kids were. You looked downward, contemplating your navel as your mind tried to make sense of the events of today. You glanced up again, trying to eavesdrop a little better, get some more detail. You took a step closer, trying to will the sound of their voices through the door to be just a little louder, just a little clearer, when Sakamoto suddenly pivoted, stretching and cracking his spine with a sigh.

“Gah!” You shouted out. His eyes met yours through the window and widened like a kid caught in the cookie jar. You jumped with a start, taking a cautionary step back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. It was a miracle you caught yourself in time, but your little outburst had definitely caught the attention of the group. Your cover was thoroughly blown. “Oh, no…” You cursed under your breath, spotting both Ann and Akira’s eyes on you now as well.

“Shit! Do you think they saw?” Ryuji’s hands flew to his hair, mussing and working out his frustrations on the dyed strands while simultaneously, Akira was already in motion, rushing toward the door to apprehend the unwelcome listener.

Your heartbeat sped up, and like a gazelle spotted by a lion, a fire was lit under you and you began to sprint, clumsily fumbling down the stairwell and onto the flat platform where the stairs rotated 90 degrees and continued downward. Inhaling sharply, your foot, nervous and supporting jelly-like legs, missed the final step. Your belongings, along with your body, spilled across the square, flat platform, and the door behind you slammed open.

“Hey!” Akira’s yell echoed through the stairwell, and your thoughts bounced off the walls just like his voice. Scrambling, you scooped only the essentials into your hands: your journal, the phone of course, a few homework binders, ditching the easily replaceable items like chewing gum and pencils. Taking to one scraped-up knee and ready to bolt, you felt a hand close upon your bicep and clamp down firmly. “Hey, hey… slow down.” Akira again, now gentler with his tone, spun you around to face him. You stood clutching your things to your chest like a life preserver. “I’m not gonna like… kill you or anything.” A breathy chuckle, and now he was on the platform next to you, scanning you up and down for injuries with his hands in his pockets. “So, uh… so don’t kill yourself by fallin’ down these stairs, huh?” He played off the tense feeling in the air with humor, but the sheer proximity of him, standing there in front of you mere inches away in the cramped space, it was like you could hear your blood pounding in your ears.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think you were some weirdo stalker? I mean, you’d just met him this morning and now you were watching him through a small window like a creep after school… after following him there. Wait, that wasn’t important right now! Was he going to kill you? He didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type to phase in and out of existence either… neither did Ryuji and Ann… what were people with powers like that capable of?

Right now, you were just going to mind your business, and play it safe. It wasn’t worth getting mixed up with people who warp through a “metaverse” and talk to animals just for some good writing material, not if it turned out to be dangerous.

“Well…” you hesitated, “it’s none of my business, what I just saw, and I won’t tell anyone.” You breathed a little easier, tried to regain your composure, to not look too weak.

“So they did see! Awww, shit!” Ryuji’s head popped through the door, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation, and the hot air of the enclosed space was cut through by a gust of wind from the now open rooftop door.

“Now, just hold on, Ryuji,” Akira held out one hand to placate his rather temperamental friend.

“No, no really it’s fine that you talk to your… cat and just… vanish... and I’m sure it’s all fine and multiverse-y and…”

“Metaverse.” Akira corrected you with a small smile, bending down to pick up the rest of your scattered objects.

“Dude!” Ryuji ran a hand down his face in defeat.

“They saw us, no point in being tight-lipped,” he stood, handing them to you.

“Metaverse… right,” you took them, watching every move he made carefully. “Sorry, I’m… a bit more... eloquent in my writing,” you moved to the side, ready to sneak past and descend the rest of the stairs. Anything to get on with your day and escape this unbelievable situation. Akira shuffled, mirroring you and completely blocking the stairwell. There was something clever about him, something sharp and charismatic. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted to achieve, and he knew how to calmly and smoothly execute his plans, unlike Sakamoto, who was far less… organized.

“Writing…?” He was keeping you locked into this conversation, as gently and amiably as he could, and you were not leaving until he was sure he could trust your word.

“Uh… yeah, that��s why I was up…” your eyes met his, quickly recoiling and looking toward the floor again, “...up on the roof. I was just looking for a quiet place to write.”

“What, uh, what kind of stuff do you write?” Ann had now joined Ryuji at the top of the stairs, leaving you feeling completely caged in. Ann threw Akira - who seemed like the leader of the small band of misfits - a desperate glance, a sort of look that seemed to ask: “Where are you going with this? Are we screwed?”

“It’s… it’s kind of private. It’s just… romance stuff. I don’t know, I do all kinds of different stuff, whatever I’m in the mood for.” Akira nodded, more to his friends than you, something you had a feeling you weren’t supposed to pick up on. He stuck his hand out flat, gesturing toward the rooftop behind you. You took the hint, heading a bit anxiously back up the stairs, Ryuji and Ann making way for you.

“You any good?” Akira followed behind you, and now on the rooftop once again, the cool air felt freeing, less constricting, though his question felt a bit insulting, a bit nosey.

“I don’t know… I’ve been told I am…” The three friends took a seat in areas that seemed very familiar to them, like they’d been up here warping in and out of this realm many times before. Now settled into place, Ann spoke up, obviously as apprehensive as you were:

“Well do you… do you think…?” Her high-pitched voice seemed to be hesitant, not yet confident in her next words, not sure if they were all on the same page.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Akira smirked as if the three had one mind. He turned to you, trying to make eye contact that you vehemently avoided. “How would you feel about helping us out?”

139 notes · View notes

britshits · 4 years

Note

what are some ways to avoid fetishizing mlm when playing out a mlm ship?

➤ stop making everything about sex. u can do all the fluff, angst, drama without making everything sexually charged. obvs caveat that it’s important that we do celebrate that mlm can have vibrant sex lives, since it’s something our community is persecuted for, but those stories should be driven by our own community. we don’t need ppl outside making us out to be sex-obssessed.

➤ if ur gonna talk about sex, it’s not like in fan fiction or the latest smut fest in /tagged/indie-rp. i can promise u women who write slash ships dont know half as much as actual mlm, so pls just pay that mind when u research.

➤ let go of the idea that physical appearance has any influence on what we like to do in the bedroom. small / thin / “soft boi” etc. =/= subby bottom.

➤ in fact, let go of the fact that physical appearance has any influence on personality, too.

➤ when it comes to mlm of colour, understand that the above can contribute to racism as well as fetishisation---e.g. playing asian men as innocent twinks / playing black men as aggressive doms. that’s racism, babey !

➤ your muse should have a personality other than being gay. we’re just as varied individuals as anyone else and it’s weird when folks make it like THE defining personality trait of their muse.

➤ BUT, that does not mean make them closeted. the whole “forbidden love” where one or both men are closeted and seeing each other in secret is an old trope and harmful in the hands of others, so pls don’t be doing those plots. just go for a “our families hate each other” kind of thing if u want that spice.

➤ if the relationship dynamic is starting to mirror cishet romances, with misogynistic undertones, then you’re likely pushing traditional “male and female roles” onto your muses, which is heteronormative and just boring as hell tbqh.

➤ also, not fetishisation, but be mindful of how your muse talks about and interacts with women. there’s no reason to make fictional men misogynistic pricks, and that extends to pushing women aside in the name of ur ship (talking from a group rp standpoint here; 1x1 is obvs more focussed on the ship itself, but still).

there’s definitely more, but that’s all i got rn bc im decayin in bed kjdnsfjsf i’ll add to it if i can think of more stuff ! @ my fellow mlm, feel free to chime in if u want 💖

#anonymous #answered #rpt #rpc #okay to rb!

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megabees · 4 years

Text

no need for proclamation | a beauyasha fic

a what-if look at what would have happened if Beau and Yasha began dating during the harp scene in episode 98

alternate title: 5 times the Mighty Nein didn't know Beau and Yasha were dating, and one time it was literally spelled out for them

find it on ao3 or read below

They have a conversation, out there on the beach.

Yasha with her harp, and Beau, muscles unfurled, feeling at peace for the first time in a while.

The ocean brings clarity for them. They who were not raised by the sea find their anxieties pulled out and caught in a riptide, their bodies returned to them smoothed and polished like a piece of glass swept out into the waves. In the dry plains of Kamordah, Beau had never seen the ocean. Its vast blue stares back at her, forcing her to appreciate how big it is, how she is miniscule in comparison. Beau: big and brash, loud and bold, a born leader, finds herself taking peace in the vastness. In the grand scheme of things, the ocean remains the same. She means nothing to the waves. There is peace in this. If nothing matters, she can do what she wants.

Similarly, Yasha grows up in the Moorlands, surrounded by hills and grasses, but the rocks don’t best the constance of the waves, crashing and settling on the shore. For her, someone who struggles so much with desire, with understanding that her mind is her own, the waves show an unstoppable force. A small child can try to stop the waves from their end, but they always come to the shore anyway. Her path may deviate, like the waves occasionally fade, but she comes back to the same place. Her harp, calming. The waves, swelling and settling. Her mind is her own, she takes fate by the hand.

In front of the ocean, two women come to similar conclusions, and they have a conversation.

They leave the beach holding hands, a new relationship formed.

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

The Nein catch on far slower than they realistically should. Yasha and Beau aren’t hiding it, per say. They’re just not making a grand announcement.

That’s how the Nein does things. You keep a secret until someone weasels it out of you, and then it’s known. There’s no need for a proclamation.

Or so Beau and Yasha thought. After the past three weeks, full of longing glances and not hiding the way they act around each other, they’re beginning to doubt the obviousness of their actions.

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

They tried to hint to Jester, that day on the boat making statues for the Traveler, through subtle flirting and glances, but she never noticed.

“You have really good legs, Yasha”, Jester remarked.

Beau catches Yasha’s eye as she says it, gives her a little up and down look. Calculating, as if she wants to know each and every inch of Yasha’s legs.

Heat flashes up Yasha’s face.

“Yeah, the slit was very, uh, high. Helped with moving around.”

Another knowing glance from Beau to Yasha. When Beau thinks of that night, she thinks of two things. Firstly, the Ruby’s singing and the hypnotic way the fish moved around her. Secondly, she thinks of the way Yasha looked in that dress, shades of grey, black and white illuminating her eyes and her lips.

As the conversation gets more intense, Beau can’t help her hand from drifting behind Yasha, using it partly to steady herself on the slow rocking of the boat and partly to just get closer.

Yasha makes a similar move, placing her hand on Beau’s lower thigh, as she once again apologizes for running Beau through with Skingorger.

“It just adds to my aesthetic. Makes me look more interesting.” Beau is so focused on the hand, slowly and comfortingly rubbing her thigh that she almost misses Yasha’s flustered compliment towards.

“You’re already very interesting….You’re both very interesting.”

It’s Beau’s turn to flush. Don’t think she hasn’t noticed Yasha’s propensity to hide a compliment to her within a compliment to everyone. It’s cute.

It’s fun to be in those stages of a relationship, learning those new things about each other.

Jester’s probably too busy thinking of Travelercon, they can keep it lowkey for a little longer.

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

It turns out though, that neither of them is *great* at keeping things low key.

If you ask Beau, it’s Yasha’s fault. Yasha’s too beautiful and talented, and she keeps showing it off. That harp haunts a few of Beau’s dreams.

(Harps require some deft finger skills, if you catch the drift.)

Yasha gets up to perform for the village of Vo, and she’s surrounded by all these people. Beau watches the way her hands shake, how she searches the crowd for a familiar face, and yells out “Freebird!” so that Yasha can find her.

For Yasha, Beau’s a grounding face in the crowd of people. Someone who doesn’t care how she does, who just is there to support her. All of the Nein is, but this song is for Beau.

Caleb lights Yasha up with silent bolts of lightning, mesmerizing the entire village of Vo, illuminating Yasha with her own personal spotlight.

It’s funny, you know. Prior to meeting Yasha, Beau had always hated storms. In the winery, grapes that got too much rain produced thin and watery wine, and when there was a thunderstorm, the workers couldn’t harvest the grapes. It meant her dad was always angry when there was a storm. Loss of profit, and all that.

Once she met Yasha though, a storm signified Yasha for her. Thunder became part of the comforting rumble of sleeping with the Nein, and lightning illuminated how different her life looked from five years ago.

Even when Yasha was gone, Beau hoped every night to hear a storm. Maybe it meant Yasha was returning to them.

So it’s not her fault she’s put in a stupor by Yasha’s performance. That’s her girl.

It unlocks a deluge of feelings in her chest. Beau’s shell-shocked, as the Nein discusses the performance absent of Yasha.

She can’t help but allow herself to chime in.

“That was amazing.”

She makes sure to tell Yasha how amazing it is later that night, in hushed tones wrapped up together.

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

After that, they begin to find their stride in how they act around their friends.

In battle, Yasha has a free pass to be as protective as she wants. Beau’s more fragile than she, and is somehow easily swallowed? Yasha’s confused on how the beasts they keep fighting manage to find Beau in their mouths more than anyone else.

Either way, Beau usually ends up taking more damage than anyone else notices.

Nothing against Jester or Cad as healers, but they tend to focus on the group’s overall health levels, and Beau likes to play off her injuries.

Vulnerability isn’t easy for Beau, so Yasha keeps a watchful eye.

She’s already lost one partner, she doesn’t need to lose another.

They’re traipsing through the forest, and Yasha looks away for one moment, and suddenly Beau is on the ground unconscious.

Nosy Expositor can’t keep her hands to herself, Yasha supposes.

She gets Beau back up, taking lightning damage and healing her.

For Yasha, her healing hands are a way of showing Beau her affection. They symbolize forgiveness, and they symbolize hope. It’s just a way of showing how she cares. Yasha’s not great with words, she speaks through her actions, and she hopes Beau understands.

That being said, as if she’s gonna let her girlfriend get healed by just Fjord.

“It’s not a competition, okay!”

“It’s a competition.”

Fjord’s got nothing on her. She’s there for Beau.

This is re-enforced, of course, when Beau asks Yasha to carry her following the fight. There was a time, when Yasha was just regaining her mind, where Beau asked Caleb to carry her following the fight with Obann instead of Yasha, and while Yasha would never admit it to Beau, it hurt a little.

Carrying Beau is Yasha’s thing. They’ve had this joke running through the time they’ve spent together, and Yasha isn’t a fan of other people trying to butt in on that.

Perhaps she’s a bit protective, a bit jealous of Beau. How is she to not be, though, when she was gone for so long and Beau got so much closer with everyone else. For Yasha, post-Obann was a new fear. The Nein had pursued her for so long, but they also made new friends, and what if the Nein had liked them more than they liked Yasha? It’s hard to feel like part of a group when you’re never there. Plus, she was helping someone raise a terrible god, and killing Beau’s co-workers, and while none of it was in her control, she did it.

The fact that the Nein forgave her? That Beau forgave her and still wants to be with her?

Yasha’s still not sure how she got so lucky.

This thought is reinforced with Beau in her arms as they walk through the forest to face a false god. Yasha loves to be able to help. Jester and Cad might be the healers, but Yasha loves the feeling of Beau’s small, lithe body in her arms.

She just wants to hold Beau forever, shelter her from any oncoming attacks.

It’s with this thought that she misses Beau giving Jester a thumbs up as they venture further into the forest.

Who needs subtlety?

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

When Yasha catches Beau in the air with her new wings, part of her is sure it’s gonna tip off the rest of the group.

It’s so romantic. It was probably a beautiful visual.

Unfortunately, it seems like the rest of the Nein is either being incredibly dense or incredibly respectful, and Yasha’s too held up in her brand new wings to decide which they are.

She flies up and over the mountain with Beau swooning in her arms, and it’s perfect. The sun casts a beautiful golden haze over the island, and Beau’s skin shines in the sunlight.

Yasha might have the wings, but Beau is her angel.

Then the wings disappear and they plummet into a shallow pond.

Yasha’s not thrilled the wings last for such little time, but at least she gets to see Beau soaking wet from the pond, giggly and delighted at the flight.

In that moment, Yasha is overwhelmed with love. It’s too early to say, but she’s been in love before. She knows what that rush feels like, that off balance feeling of “oh shit I’m in deep”.

A small secret, then. Something to unpack on her own time. There’s no need to speed it up, to burden Beau with this until she’s ready.

This love, it can be just hers to have for a bit. She’s allowed to want that.

Beau brings her back to herself, pulling her out of the pond and her own thoughts in one fell swoop.

Holding hands and giggling, they make their way to the edge of the cliffside, overlooking the mountain awash in sunlight. Looking out, Yasha is overcome and she leans over to give Beau a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m happy to have you here with me.”

“Oh? That true, sap?”

Yasha laughs, nodding her head and breaking eye contact, and leads Beau to the edge to point the way down back to their friends.

“We should probably head back, they’re gonna think we’re dead.”

They take a little extra time on the way down though since the Nein hasn’t noticed their other hints. It’s put to good use.

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

The day they visit Molly’s grave is when they give up any attempt to be subtle at all. Throughout Rumblecusp and the days after, their relationship has switched from being a complete secret to being something that they could easily explain if asked, but no one has outright asked them if they’re dating, so it just hasn’t happened.

Either the Mighty Nein is very dense or very respectful. Yasha’s sensing it might be half and half, because Caduceus had a very meaningful conversation with her about wanting things and patience, but Jester and Veth keep giving Beau looks when they think she should make a move.

Yasha and Beau talk about it at night. It’s funny to them that everyone keeps dancing around the topic. Neither of them is sure about where they got the idea that they can’t just ask, but it’s fun to just have this to themselves.

Until they go to visit Molly’s...no..Lucien’s? grave.

Yasha has a lot of feelings around Molly and his grave, and she’s not exactly thrilled by Caleb’s suggestion that they dig him up to get some answers to questions they don’t even know yet. Feels almost rude, to take a friend out of the ground to inquire about his personal life.

She mentions it to Beau, in a hushed whisper, and Beau attempts to stop Caleb’s focused energy by hinting heavily at it, but his focus is so intense that he brushes her, and Jester, who picks up on both Beau and Yasha’s discomfort, off.

He gets like that sometimes.

They teleport there, and Yasha is struck by how normal it looks. His coat is still there, though it’s blown off the stake they put in to mark his grave, and for a moment, she lets herself hope that he’s still there.

Beau’s hand finds its way into hers as they watch Veth and Cad dig up the grave, a thread of reality keeping Yasha tethered there, eyes locked onto the now empty grave.

She removes her hand from Beau’s, and instead moves it to the small of Beau’s back, pulling Beau closer to her for comfort. Beau’s body is tiny, but it’s something to grasp as they both figure out what this means for their future.

At one of the lowest moments since she regained her mind, Beau is there with her.

She squeezes Beau’s hand once. Beau squeezes back. They’re ready to tell everyone now.

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

They tell everyone in Caleb’s fancy tower, after Yasha decides to throw caution to the wind and make a joke about Beau’s fancy sex mirror above her bed.

Jester and Veth are overjoyed, Fjord and Caleb both want to make sure they’re taking care of each other and won’t mess up the group, and Caduceus just nods happily, though they’re sure he knew all along.

As they sit around the fire, Yasha and Beau link pinkies and bask in the laughter and joy of their family.

Things will be okay.

#critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin

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flipomatic · 3 years

Text

Just Out of Reach

Author Note: This is my first fic for this fandom and for this ship, so I’m working on getting a feel for these characters. This fic references the events of the valentines day event and the white day area conversation between Aoi and Tsubaki.

Summary: Tsubaki just watched as the pair stopped. The woman pulled a piece of folded paper out of her bag, it looked to be an envelope of some kind, and presented it to Aoi with both hands. Even from this distance, Tsubaki could see that Aoi’s face had flushed scarlet.

So that’s what this was, a love confession.

Tsubaki’s stomach churned as Aoi reached forward and, with hands wearing the gloves Tsubaki had given her, accepted the envelope.

Word Count: 2200

___________________________________________________________

As Tsubaki stepped out of the building, the cold air pricked at her skin. Though it was late March, there were still some colder days. Today was one of those days. Tsubaki tightened her muffler around her neck, the one Aoi had given her just over a week earlier. Just remembering their exchange warmed her cheeks.

Behind her, the rest of her unit was leaving as well. They had met today to work on a new song, which they were set to start performing next week. They practiced at the club while it was closed, since their performances were on that stage. After rehearsing, they decided to go to the café to have an afternoon snack and talk about the new song.

Hiiro was dressed for the weather, with a stylish grey coat that reached her knees. It was almost too warm for such a heavy coat, but Hiiro didn’t seem to mind. Nagisa was her exact opposite, insisting that it was spring so she didn’t need a jacket. Instead, her arms were exposed by a short-sleeved t-shirt. Every time the wind blew past, she shivered slightly. She clutched her guitar tightly in her right hand since she didn’t leave it at the venue.

Aoi was balanced somewhere between them. She wore her usual open black jacket, with gloves to cope with the cold. They were the gloves Tsubaki had given her; seeing them almost made Tsubaki blush even harder.

The café was only a few blocks away, so they set off to walk together. Nagisa took the lead with a bounce in her step, likely to fight off the cold. Hiiro walked only half a step behind her, with Tsubaki and Aoi side by side in the rear. They passed a group of young women as they left the vicinity of the club.

“I’m absolutely starving!” Nagisa exclaimed, rubbing her free hand dramatically against her stomach.

Hiiro chuckled, “What are you going to eat?”

“Hmm…” Nagisa turned towards her, her hand now lifted to her chin as she thought. “Pancakes sound really good right now. A huge stack of them!”

“Didn’t you have lunch?” Tsubaki chimed in, wondering for perhaps the twentieth time how Nagisa could possibly eat so much. She was even shorter than Tsubaki.

“Of course.” Nagisa replied simply. “Or I’d definitely pass out.”

Aoi laughed, a sound that always sent Tsubaki’s heart racing. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Nagisa spun around to walk backward while she talked to them, launching into a story about a time when that had happened. It was when she was younger and forgot to bring a lunch to school. Nagisa was still telling the story, which was growing more animated by the second, when an unknown voice interrupted her.

“E-excuse me.” The voice, quiet and timid, came from behind them. Tsubaki stopped to look, as did the rest of the unit. A young woman was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Tsubaki recognized her as one of the girls they walked by a couple minutes ago. Long black hair covered part of her face, which was bright red. Her eyes were pointed down at the ground. “M-Miyake-san, do you have a minute to talk… in private?” She seemed to have trouble finding the right words.

Tsubaki wondered what this was about. She knew Aoi had a lot of fans, perhaps she wanted an autograph. That didn’t explain the clear embarrassment though. Tsubaki glanced over at Aoi, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

“I… If that’s alright with you?” Aoi looked between her unit members, stopping on Tsubaki last. Tsubaki tried to read her gaze, but wasn’t sure what she saw.

The darker part of Tsubaki’s heart, the part that growled when another girl so much as looked at Aoi, wanted to say no. She was with her unit right now, not free to talk. But no, Tsubaki knew that wasn’t right.

“We’ll wait here for you.” Tsubaki replied, trying to sound nonchalant about it. The way that Nagisa raised an eyebrow at her told her she had failed.

“Go ahead, we’re not in a hurry.” Hiiro insisted, gesturing towards the girl.

Aoi’s expression was still unreadable. “Thank you.” The side of her mouth lifted into a smile as she turned back to the girl. “After you.”

Tsubaki watched in silence as the two walked away. They went all the way down the sidewalk, where the other Rondo members wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.

“Damn, I wanted to listen in.” Nagisa had one hand cupped around her ear.

Hiiro shook her head with a wry smile. “Aoi-kun will spot us if we move.”

Tsubaki just watched as the pair stopped. The woman pulled a piece of folded paper out of her bag, it looked to be an envelope of some kind, and presented it to Aoi with both hands. Even from this distance, Tsubaki could see that Aoi’s face had flushed scarlet.

So that’s what this was, a love confession.

Tsubaki’s stomach churned as Aoi reached forward and, with hands wearing the gloves Tsubaki had given her, accepted the envelope.

It wasn’t like Tsubaki didn’t know that Aoi was popular, or that a lot of people were interested in her. She knew all of that; she remembered the mountain of chocolate Aoi received for valentines day and the hordes of screaming fans.

That didn’t stop Tsubaki from feeling jealous, from wanting Aoi to pay attention to only her. She wanted to storm over there, tear that letter from Aoi’s grasp, and declare that she was hers.

Tsubaki wouldn’t do that, she couldn’t do that. Aoi wasn’t hers, no matter how badly she wanted her to be. She could only hope that Aoi returned her feelings, but Tsubaki was under no illusion that she did.

In the distance, Aoi opened the letter and started to read it.

Tsubaki couldn’t watch anymore. Even though she said it was alright, she couldn’t subject herself to this. She felt a surge of pain in her heart as she turned away, back in the direction they’d been walking. “Actually, I’ll pass on the café.” She said, causing both Hiiro and Nagisa to look at her instead of in the distance.

“Tsubaki?” Hiiro phrased her name as a question, asking so much without asking anything at all.

“I’ll see you around.” Tsubaki started walking away, not looking back even as Nagisa called out to her. Aoi was probably going to leave with that girl anyway, to cancel on the unit’s plans. Tsubaki told herself it was better like this.

She would go home. At home, she’d be alone. There was a pain in that, but also solace. She wouldn’t have to watch Aoi accept someone else’s love, wouldn’t have to be reminded about how she wasn’t enough.

___________________________________________________________

“I like you!” The young woman, who said her name was Nana, leaned forward and held an envelope out with both hands. “Please accept this!” There was a heart drawn on one side.

Aoi could hardly believe what was happening. First Nana had stopped her unit and asked to speak with her, now she was confessing her love. It felt surreal. Her face was hot, unbearably so; she felt like she was in shock. She had received confessions before, but she never felt ready for them.

Aoi slowly took the offered paper, opening the envelope carefully so she wouldn’t tear it. Inside was a single piece of folded paper. It contained a few paragraphs of text, which Aoi read quickly. They explained that Nana loved watching Aoi perform, heard she liked homemade food, and offered to cook for her. It finished with the confession Nana had just made.

Once she finished it, Aoi looked back up at Nana. She still looked nervous, as she had since the moment she approached the group. Both of her hands were clenched together in front of her body.

Aoi searched for the words to respond to her. She was cute, but Aoi didn’t really know her. It was great that she was a fan, but Aoi wasn’t prepared to return her feelings. There were other reasons too, Aoi thought as she looked at her gloves. The gloves Tsubaki gave her, which were a precious gift, a precious reminder.

Nana had her eyes locked on Aoi’s face, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. “Will you go out with me?” She asked an actual question now, one Aoi had to respond to.

Even though Aoi was certain in her answer, she still felt bad saying it. She didn’t like hurting others. “I’m sorry.” She offered the letter back to Nana, who immediately frowned. “I can’t return your feelings.”

Nana took the paper back gingerly, tears now welling up in the corner of her eyes. Aoi’s heart panged. “I understand…” She took a half step back and bowed forward, hiding her face. “Goodbye.” She turned quickly and walked away, back towards where her friends were likely waiting.

Aoi watched her for a few moments, before turning back to Rondo. Immediately, she noticed that something was wrong. The whole unit had been there before, but now she only saw Hiiro and Nagisa. Did Tsubaki go ahead without them?

The confession was already fading from Aoi’s mind as she hurried back to the group. “Sorry for the delay.” She said as she reached them. “Where’s Tsubaki?” She was worried, what if something bad had happened?

“She decided to go home.” Hiiro replied in a light tone that didn’t match the message.

That didn’t make sense; they were supposed to all go to the café together. “Huh? What do you mean?” Aoi furrowed her eyebrows together.

“She left, split, said farewell.” Nagisa counted off up to three on her fingers as she listed them. “Didn’t say why, probably cuz we got delayed.” She shrugged.

Aoi’s heart, which had already been in pain earlier, felt even worse now. It was her fault that Tsubaki left, that she wasn’t going to be with Rondo at the café. If they had just kept walking, then she would still be there.

“You could still catch her.” Hiiro pointed down the sidewalk, in the direction Tsubaki must’ve gone in. “She turned left two streets down.”

Yes, Aoi wanted to do just that. She quickly said, “Thanks!” and took off down the street at an accelerated walk.

“We’ll meet you there!” Nagisa’s voice echoed behind her.

As Aoi made the left turn, she recognized that she was now going towards Tsubaki’s house, which meant she really was headed towards home.

Aoi knew how to get there and what route Tsubaki would take.

Even as she walked quickly down the sidewalk, she wondered if she should turn back. It wasn’t like they couldn’t get a snack or talk about the song without Tsubaki, Aoi knew that they could. She also knew that she wanted Tsubaki to be there. It wasn’t Rondo without her, Aoi’s heart wouldn’t be complete without her.

There was a chance she’d say no, that she wouldn’t appreciate Aoi coming after her like this. That was a risk Aoi was willing to take. She’d been chasing after Tsubaki for so long; it wasn’t time to stop now.

After just a few minutes of walking, she saw a familiar sight in the distance. The muffler, the one Aoi had given to Tsubaki, was visible around her neck even at a long distance. Every time Tsubaki wore it, Aoi felt warm inside. She hoped it was keeping Tsubaki warm too.

“Tsubaki!” Aoi called out her name as she got closer, causing Tsubaki to spin around with wide eyes. She looked completely shocked to see Aoi behind her, following her. In the afternoon sunlight, she was stunning.

“Aoi?” She said in a confused tone. She took a small step towards Aoi as her eyes flicked from Aoi’s face down to her hands, and then back up.

“Please come to the café.” Aoi felt slightly out of breath, from practically jogging the last stretch. Her cheeks must’ve been flushed from exertion.

“Aren’t you busy now?” Tsubaki’s voice sounded strained, rougher than usual.

Aoi shook her head. “Just with my unit.” She said, reaching towards Tsubaki with one hand. “Please come, it wouldn’t be the same without you. I want you to be there.”

Tsubaki’s eyes widened even more, before tears welled up in the corner of them. Aoi hoped she hadn’t made a mistake, hadn’t stepped right over Tsubaki’s boundaries and was about to be rejected.

“I will.” Tsubaki wiped the corner of her eyes as she nodded.

A wave of relief rushed through Aoi’s chest. “Let’s go then.” They turned to go back the way they came, since the café was actually closer to the venue than where they were now.

Again Aoi and Tsubaki walked side by side, as they had done earlier.

Aoi stole a glance at Tsubaki as they walked, wondering what she was thinking. As she looked at the muffler around her neck, she wondered if Tsubaki knew how much she cared for her.

She wasn’t ready to take another step yet, but she hoped Tsubaki felt the same way.

#tsubaoi #miyake aoi #aoyagi tsubaki #d4dj fanfiction #d4dj fanfic #d4dj #i like them #read the unit story #and the event stories #do it

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ikevampeventarchive · 4 years

Text

[ERS] Urgent Bloodsucking ～ Isaac

Duration: 11/8 (Fri) 04:00 PM ～ 11/15 (Fri) 09:00 PM JST

Having been inflicted with a terrible thirst, Arthur and Vincent seek your blood. Though he wants to protect you, Isaac’s sense of reason is slowly reaching it’s limit….?

Once unleashed, drown in the endless depths of sweet desire ——

Event Prologue | Route Preview

[This is an unofficial work based on fan-translation. Copyright belongs to Cybird.]

Common Route

After drinking the Rosé, nothing odd seems to happen, leaving Arthur disappointed and Isaac relieved. MC is similarly relieved and Isaac apologizes for worrying her. With the matter settled, Sebastian starts clearing up the table when Arthur suddenly grabs his arm. Isaac is surprised, realizing that he looked just about ready to bite Sebastian. Arthur comes back to his senses though, after Sebastian asked what he was trying to do, and he laughs the whole thing off, saying he only bites women.

While MC reprimands him for joking over something like that, Isaac begins to worry that something might really be wrong. On the other hand, Vincent speaks up and informs them he wasn’t feeling well, and it confirms Isaac’s suspicions that the Rosé was affecting them, while he himself begins to feel the thirst. MC notices how much the drink was affecting the three of them, and Isaac tells her that the effects have kicked in.

Their thirst gradually intensifies, and Sebastian comes in with some Rouge for them to drink. He pours them all a glass, but after downing the Rouge, Isaac realizes it wasn’t enough. Arthur and Vincent are similarly unsatisfied, but they’re denied a second glass as Sebastian explains that drinking more would be toxic for them. He advises them to wait out the hour it would take for the side effects to wear off, but Arthur isn’t pleased to hear that.

It becomes clear to Isaac that he was better in handling the extreme thirst compared to Arthur and Vincent, given his condition, but at the same time, it meant that the other two would be suffering a lot more than they are used to. Arthur then speaks up, saying that he couldn’t take it anymore, and hugs MC from behind with his fangs bared.

Isaac pulls her away from Arthur and keeps her close to himself. Arthur tells him not to be stingy and asks to let him drink MC’s blood, but Isaac refuses. He starts thinking of how to best handle the situation, but Vincent takes hold of MC’s hand and brings it to his lips, apologizing and saying he couldn’t control his thirst either. Isaac gets MC away from him too, and tells them that if they bite her now, they wouldn’t be able to stop drinking her blood.

In his mind, Isaac knows that once they bite, they’ll completely lose themselves and he refuses to have either of them to go through that. He then decides that the best option was for MC to hide. Since he wasn’t blinded by thirst yet, he asks Sebastian to handle Vincent and Arthur while he gets MC to somewhere safe. Sebastian hesitantly agrees, worried about Isaac’s condition, but he assures him that he can handle himself.

In reality though, Isaac is just as thirsty as the other two and wants to bite MC, but he swears to protect her. They leave the dining room and he suggests that she stay in her room until everyone calms down. MC voices out her concern for him, but he insists that he’ll be fine. She isn’t convinced, but before Isaac can say more, Arthur and Vince manage to get past Sebastian. Realizing the situation they were in, MC begins to speak up, but Isaac cuts her off, saying that he wouldn’t allow it.

MC: But I haven’t said anything yet.

Isaac: In any case, you were thinking that if you could take away their pain by giving them blood, then you’re willing to give them a little, weren’t you?

MC’s surprised that he was spot on, and Isaac explains just how dangerous her idea was, given their condition. He also refuses to have another man bite MC, but he keeps that thought to himself.

They break into a run, heading for MC’s room, but they find Arthur already waiting for them in front of her door. Arthur tells them that he didn’t really want to do this, but he was already at his limit and therefore had no choice. Isaac sympathizes, but he won’t allow them to be caught and tries to backtrack, only to find Vincent blocking their way, who apologizes and begs them to get away.

Isaac realizes that with their thirst, they would still be able to smell MC’s scent, and decides there was only one place for her to hide. He grabs MC’s hand, and they push past Vincent and run up several flights of stairs. All the while, Isaac could feel his own thirst worsen, and simply hopes he could keep himself together until he could get MC to a safe place.

Finally, they make it to the attic, which could be locked from the inside, but at this point, Isaac’s already at his limit and looks about to collapse. MC tries to steady him, but in a moment of weakness, he tells her that he wants her. He immediately takes it back and pulls himself together, mentally berating himself for letting that slip.

He advises her to stay in the attic until everyone had calmed down before turning around and heading for the door. MC tries to stop him, but he apologizes and tells her that he won’t be able to be gentle to her if he stays. He then leaves, locking the door after him, and heads back to his room.

With thirty minutes left before the effects of the Rosé wears off, Isaac worries over how Arthur and Vincent were faring, since they weren’t used to bouts of extreme thirst like he was and were likely in a lot of pain. At the same time, he worries the whole ordeal might have scared MC, and he can’t stomach the idea of her being afraid of them.

Isaac: Haa… I wonder why is it that I’m always being influenced by other people, and then have things backfire on me.

His brooding is then interrupted when MC barges into his room and hugs him. Isaac’s confused and asks what she’s doing when she should be hiding, but all she tells him is that she’s comfortable with him. He doesn’t quite understand, but he feels warm and relaxed now that she was here. He tells her, however, that she should leave since he might not be able to keep himself from biting her, and if that happens, she wouldn’t be able to get away from him.

Isaac begins to think back to a time when her blood stained his sheets, and he swears he wasn’t going to let that happen again, reminding himself of how he promised to cherish her for the rest of his life.

MC, however, tells him that she’s fine whatever may happen since it’s him, and Isaac is frustrated with her stubbornness. He thinks of how he just wants to push her down and how he wants her body and blood, but as he desperately tries to suppress those overwhelming desires of his, MC asks him to rely on her.

—

Sweet (Love’s Devotion) End

The thing he truly wants, even more than blood….

“It’s because, I truly want to treasure you.”

What awaits after he regains his senses is a gentle, sweet time for the two of you.

—

Isaac thinks to himself that he couldn’t take anymore of this, but instead of biting MC, he just pulls her close and kisses her forehead. He tells her he didn’t want to bite her in the state he was in, but he’s still happy that she went to see him. He then hugs her, his mind calming down now that he feels her warmth, and he lets her know that he’ll be okay like this until the effects of the Rosé wore off. MC yields, but then the door opens, and Arthur and Vincent come in.

The two men are relieved to find Isaac and MC, and while the former is surprised, MC asks what they were doing there. They explain that Sebastian had somehow found an antidote and were asked to give it to Isaac. Isaac then asks if they already took the antidote, and Arthur tells him that they have and that they were feeling better.

Isaac sighs in relief now that both Vincent and Arthur are back to their usual selves, and Arthur apologizes for how he acted. Isaac insists that they should let it go and move on, but Arthur lets him know that something like that is difficult to forget and it served as a chance to understand what Isaac goes through. Vincent chimes in, reminding Isaac that he still had an antidote to drink, and holds out a bottle of black liquid.

The color has Isaac skeptical but Vincent assures him it’s safe. He eventually gets around drinking it though, and he’s surprised it actually worked. MC asks if he really is alright, and he reassures her he’s fine. Arthur and Vincent wonders how he was able to endure the thirst, even though MC was with him, and Isaac glances at MC.

Isaac: That is… MC’s well-being is more important to me than my desire to drink blood.

In his mind, Isaac admits to himself that he almost did bite MC and is glad that he didn’t, knowing that if it was the old him, he probably would have bitten her. Now though, he values the time he spends with her and swears to cherish her.

Arthur is impressed, and Isaac initially assumes he was just teasing him, but he notices the serious look Arthur was giving him as he insists that he wasn’t joking. Vincent agrees, saying that he wouldn’t have been able to endure the pain from that kind of thirst, and Arthur admits that if it were him, he would have caved from the very beginning.

Seeing Arthur and Vincent back to their usual selves, Isaac feels very relieved and warm, and starts to choke up as he apologizes for the whole incident. Arthur tells him that he was the instigator and Vincent drank the Rosé of his own free will, and therefore Isaac had no reason to apologize. MC then giggles, pointing out how everyone is all good friends, and Isaac realizes that it was a word he didn’t often hear in his old life.

Isaac wonders out loud if they really were good friends, and Vincent assures him that they are. Both he and Arthur point out that if he hadn’t met MC, Isaac would have remained distant and unapproachable. Isaac realizes that they might be right that MC brought about his change, and as his affection for MC grows, his thirst for her comes back.

Arthur catches on and comments that he and Vincent should take their leave now that they had already given him the antidote. He also teasingly points out that Isaac looked like he really wanted them to leave already, but Isaac denies it. Vince agrees they should get going though, and the two of them leave Isaac and MC alone.

MC decides that she should probably leave too so Isaac could get some rest, but before she could go, he grabs her hand and asks her to stay. He pulls her into a deep kiss, and when they part, MC asks if the antidote had already worn off.

Isaac tells her that it was something like that, but at this point, the only thing that could satisfy him would be MC. He kisses her again, surprising MC, but she’s happy that he was now actually willing to ask her for something. Isaac wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from her, and while he’s embarrassed, it makes his desire even stronger.

Isaac comments that if she kept saying stuff like that, he really wouldn’t be able to control himself, before pulling her for another kiss. As the heat between them increases, the time for sweet pleasure begins.

—

Premium (Instinctual Bloodsucking) End

Ensnared by desire, he yearns for blood….

“Sorry. I don’t think I can stand any more than this…. I want to take you for myself right now.”

The awakened vampire instincts, can no longer be stopped ——

—

Isaac gives in and pulls MC close to him, apologizing as he did so since he won’t be able to be gentle. He then starts to unbutton her blouse and peels it away, exposing her skin. He can practically hear her heart beating, and he’s disgusted by his own reaction, as if he was a beast about to devour his prey.

His hands come to a stop as his thoughts begin to wander, thinking of all the ways he could mess things up, but MC calls out his name and snaps him out of it. She smiles at him and reaches out a hand, telling him that everything will be fine, insisting that he bite her. Isaac is at the same time happy and worried, and yields. He pushes away her hair and thanks her, before sinking his fangs into her neck.

MC tenses up in pain, but after a few moments pass, it becomes apparent that she’s begun to enjoy it. Isaac continues to drink her blood, up until the point he thinks he’s about to lose control, and then pulls away and wraps his arms around him. MC asks if that was enough to satisfy him, and he admits that although it wasn’t, drinking any more would be dangerous for her.

Isaac takes a few deep breaths and is relieved that he had somehow regained control of himself. He then asks if MC was in any pain, to which she answers she wasn’t and was actually feeling pretty good.

Not expecting that kind of answer, Isaac ends up laughing. MC, on the other hand, is relieved he was able to laugh since he looked terrible when she had first come in. Isaac explains that he had assumed Arthur and Vincent had done something, and admits that none of this would have happened if only he hadn’t challenged the other two to experience what he goes through. This time, MC laughs, and Isaac asks what she finds funny.

MC: Yeah, Isaac really has changed.

Isaac: …Changed?

MC: Because when we first met, you told me you didn’t need any friends.

MC: But now, you’re worrying about others, and that’s evidence that you think everyone is an important friend.

(Important, friend…)

Isaac realizes that it wasn’t a term he was used to, and it makes him feel warm. MC points out that everyone views him the same way, and Isaac hopes that the others really do view him as a friend. MC reassures him that they do, and Isaac laughs, the uneasiness and loneliness he felt being replaced by a strong feeling of affection. He then asks MC if he could kiss her, and MC immediately blushes, asking why he would have to ask at a time like this.

Isaac kisses her, but as he does, his thirst comes up again, and he realizes that he might not be able to stop this time. He pulls back and tries to regain his composure, but it becomes apparent that drinking MC’s blood hadn’t completely taken care of the Rosé’s side effects.

Confused, MC calls out to Isaac, and he asks her how much longer until the side effects were supposed to wear off. She says ten more minutes, and Isaac thinks to himself that drinking her blood had only temporarily given him so reprieve, but the side effects were still going to kick in until the Rosé completely wears off.

Isaac apologizes to MC and tells her he can’t take any more of this as he embraces her. MC asks what he’s going on about, and he informs her that he intends her to take her to bed. MC finally understands, and asks if he’s still experiencing the side effects. He admits that it’s partly that, but there’s something else to it.

Apparently, a vampire’s thirst for blood is tied to their affection, and Isaac points out that because he loves her, he couldn’t help but feel this way for her. He then smiles at her and licks the bit of skin left exposed by her unbuttoned blouse.

“Let me have you right now.”

Note: This is where the paid epilogue starts.

—

Epilogue Preview

Reaching its limits, his desire yearns for you to the point of madness….

MC: Haa…

Isaac: No, don’t stop…. More.

Hands twisted into the sheets to prevent you from moving away, he gives you a kiss that robs you of your breath.

(Even more, I want to carve my mark on your body….)

Thirsting for blood, he lifts your bare thigh up—

Isaac: Sorry…. bear with this for a bit.

MC: … Ah

Signaled by molten eyes, the curtain on an enticing moment lifts.

Isaac: Today… is it okay to be rough?

Event Info | Vincent Route | Arthur Route

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #isaac #ers #general election 2018 #revival #urgent bloodsucking #rose event #jp ikevamp #november 2019

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gleekto · 4 years

Text

Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2

Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

LimaBlaineFan: Spoiler alert - My source is back. He is going to be meeting Blaine tonight.

After Wednesday’s official announcement that Blaine Anderson had been cast as Rachel’s musically talented but romantically challenged love interest, Colin Red, on That’s So Rachel, Kurt’s followers jumped again. 331 more this time. It’s the credibility surge - not that he’d ever be a troll.

Kurt realizes he’s in a potentially problematic position, with one foot venturing into the real life filming world of Blaine Anderson, and his other foot firmly in the fantastical world of fandom. He realizes that he could end up in a conflict of interest, or with inside information that he clearly can’t share or worse, that he accidentally does. But who’s he kidding? He’s just been gifted a fan’s dream ticket of a non-fandom interaction with his celebrity crush. Yeah there might be consequences, but for now Kurt plans to enjoy having his cake and eating it too.

Kurt puts the finishing touches on his cocktail party outfit - layered blacks and greys for the cool fall day with a perfectly fitted long jacket. Sophisticated without looking like he’s trying too hard to impress very impressive company.

“Kurt, you ready?” Rachel is already halfway out the door as he grabs his phone and notices the red private message alert beside the growing notes on his “my source is going to meet Blaine” post.

MercedesSing!: It’s you, isn’t it? You remember that I know that Rachel Berry is your roommate, right?

Kurt types quickly as he exits the apartment. Can’t talk now with a winky emoji.

...

The cocktail party for the cast of That’s So Rachel isn’t exactly what Kurt was expecting. With Patti and Barbra, he expected glitz and glamour, unlimited martinis, caviar, and free air pods in an obnoxious swag bag. Instead, there is some nice red wine, hot dogs in a blanket, fried mushrooms on a stick, and a take home cookie with a cartoon face of a smiling Rachel Cherry. Low key and almost relaxed. And he will definitely enjoy biting off Rachel’s head.

Kurt relaxes at the less intense than expected atmosphere, and manages to be an excellent plus one for Rachel’s idols turned TV moms. He and Rachel are so engaged discussing the brilliance of a gender reversed ‘Company’ with Patti, and his own lauded rendition of Rose’s Turn from his high school Glee club, that he almost forgets that Blaine Anderson is coming. Almost.

When Patti is called over to meet one of the executives, and he and Rachel are left with a cone of appetizer fries in hand by the wine bar, he starts to get nervous. His eyes wander, trying not to search but definitely searching. There’s Jesse St. James who is playing Rachel’s music teacher talking to the showrunner. There are the friendly hair and makeup gang over by the couches. Rachel points out another couple of young women who will be playing Rachel’s friends. But no Blaine Anderson. Kurt tries not to look distracted.

“Rachel, hey!”

Just from the voice Kurt knows.

“Oh Blaine, hi,” Rachel turns around to a smiling and wow really quite perfectly dressed Blaine Anderson, approaching from the back door.

“Sorry I’m late. I just had to finish up filming before running home for a quick shower.”

“Great to see you. We were just-”

“That is a really great outfit. Especially the shoes.” The words just fall out of Kurt’s mouth as he swings on the balls of his feet. Could he make a more awkward first impression? He apparently can’t keep his mouth shut when it comes to red shiny shoes perfectly matched with a soft red cardigan, skinny tie and jeans that fit just so. Somehow Blaine is even more warm and gorgeous in-person and wow, does he have style. Which Kurt appreciates - unfortunately, out loud.

“Oh. Thank you.” Blaine looks slightly surprised but not put off by Kurt’s over enthusiasm. “I could say the same to you,” Blaine grins now, eyeing Kurt’s grey sweater-blazer, which does look great, Kurt admits. He feels like the fanboy at Comicon. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Blaine says. “I’m Blaine Anderson.” He extends his hand.

I know, Kurt thinks, smiling dumbly. I know. “I’m Rachel’s roommate.” Kurt shakes his hand - warm, soft, firm. Of course he would have a firm handshake. Kurt keeps smiling, hoping he’s being polite, but there’s an awkward silence.

“Kurt,” Rachel adds. “This is my roommate, Kurt Hummel.” Great. He forgot to say his name. Nothing like a first impression.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.” He knows that people in fandom who have had the luck to meet Blaine in person have said it, but he can now verify that Blaine really is good at that eye contact thing. His eyes are focused right on him and Kurt is sure he will drown. Kurt nods, trying not to seem like he’s staring. “How did you two meet?”

Rachel looks at Kurt, waiting for him to speak, probably because Blaine is looking at him, and not at Rachel. When he doesn’t say anything, Rachel eventually chimes in. “We went to high school together in Lima, Ohio-”

“The thriving metropolis,” Kurt manages to snap out of his stupor to give a shout out to his hick hometown. Blaine nods, laughing. He’s still looking at him.

“I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I’m from Ohio, too. Westerville.” Kurt knows that. “Not exactly the best place for a wannabe actor to grow up.” Blaine went to the prestigious Dalton Academy - also known as the gay Hogwarts of the Midwest. And he is absolutely not going to ask him about that.

“Fair,” Kurt replies, still smiling like a starstruck fanboy. He is a starstruck fanboy. And before Blaine notices, or worse, before he says something stupid, he figures he should exit while he’s ahead - leaving no damage in case they actually do meet again. “It was nice to meet you, Blaine and I’ll leave you two to talk shop. My glass is empty and I’m going to get another red while the line is short.”

Kurt takes a deep breath while he waits in line. Conversation completed and no harm done. Rachel and Blaine are talking animatedly about something or other and he has a moment to breathe as he makes his way to the bartender, “Merlot, s’il vous plait?”

“You speak French?” Kurt turns to see a once again grinning Blaine Anderson, who has somehow appeared behind him in line. What?

“Me?”

Blaine gives him a quizzical look. “You did just speak French to the bartender, right?”

“Oh! Oh yeah, of course. I don’t really speak. I just took French in high school.”

“A Corona please,” Blaine asks the same bartender as Kurt turns to walk away, red wine in hand, “Hey Kurt. Wait up.” Kurt freezes. Okay. “Cheers,” Blaine says as he chinks his beer bottle to Kurt’s wine glass. “Sometimes it’s nice to just have a drink and chill at these events, you know?” Blaine leans into him so he can hear what he’s saying in the noise of the crowd. “It’s a lot of industry people and a lot of being on. They’re great. Don’t get me wrong. But it takes a lot of focus to say all the right things to Patti Lupone.”

“Oh my god, I know. I just met her.” Kurt agrees. “I’m studying at LAADA so Rachel wanted to make sure I made the connection-”

“You’re at LAADA? That’s awesome. Such a great school,” Blaine knocks into his side. “You know if I hadn’t gotten my part on Sing!-” Kurt keeps his face neutral, “I would have gone into musical theatre. Did you do Glee Club with Rachel?”

“She’s already told you about Glee?” Kurt says. “Guilty. We weren’t exactly the top of the social pyramid at a football crazed school in Lima, Ohio.”

“I was in Glee club in Westerville, too, way back when. Dalton Academy?”

“Oh yeah,” Kurt nods nonchalantly. “The Warblers, right? I think we competed against them a couple of times two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Blaine nods fondly. “We were strangely revered by the boys at the school but Dalton was still very much an old boys’ club in the middle of Ohio. It’s not the progressive mecca some may think it is.”

“I may have heard a rumour-” Kurt pauses.

“Yeah, no. It’s not the gay Hogwarts,” Blaine makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Not when I was there at least. I was out but I never had a boyfriend until I moved to LA.” How can he be having this conversation? “But then I got Sing! and you know, dating wasn’t so easy.”

“It wasn’t?” Because Kurt is pretty sure that there would be boys literally lining up for a chance at a date with fandom’s most eligible sweetheart.

“No,” Blaine shrugs. “It’s really hard to meet people when you’re on a show like that, you know? Constantly in the spotlight, or in the selfie camera. It becomes hard to distinguish between fan and friend.” Kurt’s eyebrows rise. “And with that schedule on Sing! - I was too busy for anything serious, anyways.” Kurt nods keeping his face as flat as possible while his heart beats out of his chest, hoping Blaine can’t hear it over the background music. “I should apologize. I’m doing all the talking. What about you, Kurt? Do you have a boyfriend?”

What.

“Who me?” Kurt is taken aback. The combination of the very chill and bizarrely intimate conversation he’s having with Blaine Celebrity-of-My-Dreams Anderson, while being casually asked about his (non-existent) love life, the assumption that he’s gay and could be taken so obvious and ordinary, makes him feel like he’s in the Twilight Zone. He is in the Twilight Zone - he is talking about his love life with Blaine Anderson. He needs to compose himself. “Oh no. No no. Like you said, small town Ohio is not exactly a gay mecca. Just swinging and single,” Kurt says awkwardly. He knows he’s beet red but Blaine bites his lower lip and his smile gets wider.

“Blaine!” Jesse St. James from across the room, beckons him over. “Come here. Meet Joan Silver - she’s the executive producer.” Blaine looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“I’m being summoned,” Blaine says and Kurt nods, still feeling surreal. Blaine reaches out and squeezes Kurt’s upper arm, “Really nice to meet you,” He winks, “Rachel’s roommate.”

#even better than the real thing #gleekto writes #ahhh the meet cute

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iwaswritingmywayout · 4 years

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BTMH: Chapter 22: Assignments

Back in Japan Y/N had been practicing a jump Seonghwa was teaching her. She wiped the sweat off her cheek. “Seonghwa, please let me do that one more time!”

Seonghwa was leaning against the rink boards, sweating as well. “Wow…Hasn’t it been tens of thousands of times?” Seonghwa asked before bending down to wipe off his skate blade.

“Just thirteen,” Y/N said as if that was a small amount.

“Isn’t your knee hurting you?” Seonghwa asked.

“Not really, I wrapped it well so it shouldn’t bother me,” Y/N said.

Seonghwa nodded. “I’ve thought this for a while, but you have pretty good stamina, even better than some male skaters,” Seonghwa said, bending over to wipe off the other blade.

“Well, I have that, at least,” Y/N said. It was one of her good traits. She had great stamina, which was also why she was able to do so well when competing against men and women. With men it meant she could do as many jumps as them without getting tired. With women it meant she could do more jumps and have them in the end, too.

Seonghwa was still bent over as he started to talk. “You said you get hungry when you’re nervous in competition, too.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, only starring at the top of his head as she blushed.

“You haven’t suffered any more injuries since your last one, and you’re younger than I am,” Seonghwa said.

Y/N pokes Seonghwa’s hair with her finger. Seonghwa and Y/N both froze. Y/N realized what she did and she jumped back before starting to wave her hands.

“S-Sorry!” Y/N said.

Seonghwa moved his hand to touch the spot that Y/N did.

“I couldn’t help it! Your hair just looks really soft!” Y/N said.

Seonghwa ignored what she said. “Is it getting that thin?”

Y/N shook her head aggressively. “No, no, no! Everything’s okay!”

Seonghwa sunk to the floor, his hand still on his head. “I’m hurt…I can’t recover from this.” Seonghwa laid down on the ice.

Y/N’s eyes widened. She felt really bad even though she knew he was being overly dramatic. She stood on her toe picks before dropping to her knees in dogeza. “Sorry! Please get up!”

Takeshi and Yuuko were watching the event unfold from outside the rink. Takeshi looked over at Yuuko. “Well, those two seem to get along fine.”

Later that night Y/N was scrolling through twitter on her computer when she heard the chime signifying that she had received an email. She opened her email and her eyes widened. “It’s here!” She shouted.

Y/N picked up her laptop before running to Seonghwa’s room and opening the door. He sat up and looked at her, wondering what had her in such a rush.

“Seonghwa, listen!” She said. She jumped onto his bed, accidentally stepping on Makkachin’s tail which caused him to yelp. The lights came on soon after.

“Oops, sorry!” Y/N said to Makkachin before giving him scratches. “The music for the free program’s done.” Y/N put the earphones in Seonghwa’s ears then started the music. Seonghwa smiled and her and nodded.

“It’s perfect,” Seonghwa said.

The next day the two were at Ice Castle Hasetsu. They were standing off the ice against the rink, working on deciding the jumps for the program.

“If you want more impact, maybe the last jump can be a quadruple toe loop?” Seonghwa suggested, tapping his pen on the notepad.

“Huh? For the last one?” Y/N asked. She didn’t think it was a bad idea, she just didn’t expect him to suggest it since she was still having trouble landing it.

Seonghwa looked at her. “With your stamina, I think you can pull it off,” Seonghwa said. He then leaned in closer. “Unless you think you’ll knee will cause you issues, or if you’d just rather not do that.”

“I’ll do it!” Y/N said.

She decided not to leave it out just because it would cause her pain. She had been having pain all season, but she’d been icing and wrapping which was helping. She knew she was going to be in pain no matter what she did, so she decided go big or go home.

“Okay,” Seonghwa said. He turned around and took his jacket off. “Oh, right. Y/N, did you change the musical theme?”

Y/N blushed and looked down. “Oh, um…”

“What is it?” Seonghwa asked.

“The theme is “on my love”,” Y/N said before looking up at Seonghwa. She saw the smile on his face grow wider and she let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s the best theme. Perfect,” Seonghwa said. “Okay, let’s finish this!”

“Yeah!” Y/N said. She assumed the starting position for the free program and then began to do the choreography.

Back at Lilia’s home, Yakov had news. “Jongho!” He called. He then walked into the living room where Lilia was sipping tea with Jongho’s cat, Puma Tiger Scorpion. “The assignments are in.”

Jongho walked out of the bathroom, his hair still wet. “Where? Where’d that little Japanese piggy get assigned?”

At Yu-topia, confetti shot out of confetti poppers. Y/N was sitting on the floor in front of a table. Minako, Seonghwa, the entire Katsuki family, and the entire Nishigori family clap for Y/N.

“Look at you! Making your big comeback! I’m so proud,” Yuuri said, wiping away a non-existent tear.

“Thank you,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Okay, I’ll explain which events you’ll be competing in,” Seonghwa said.

“But first! Since the Katsuki family, minus Yuuri, doesn’t know much about figure skating, we’ll give a simple explanation!” The triplets said.

“Oh, that’d be very helpful!” Hiroko said.

“What is the Figure Skating Grand Prix series? Skaters with high scores in the previous year participate in a maximum of two competitions of six worldwide. Only the top six skaters advance to the Grand Prix Final, which decides who’s number one! And this season, Y/N’s been assigned to the third event, the Cup of China! Y/N’s former rink mate, Yunho from Thailand, will be there, too!” The triplets explained.

“Oh, Yunho will be there?” Y/N said.

“And her second event will be…The sixth event, Russia’s Rostelecom Cup! She’ll be up against her fated rival, Jongho Plisetsky!” The twins said.

Mari was waving Jongho flags. “Wow, Jongho! Davai, davai!”

‘What a traitor,’ Y/N thought. ‘So I’m already facing Jongho in the Rostelecom Cup…’

“You’ll be minding the house during the season, Makkachin,” Seonghwa said as he pet his dog.

‘That’s right… It’ll be my first time in a Grand Prix series without Seonghwa in the lineup,’ Y/N thought.

“I bet if you show up with Seonghwa as your coach, they’ll think you stole him from the sport,” Takeshi said.

“Maybe skating fans worldwide hate you now!” Yuuko said.

Y/N looked down, freaking out internally. What if she really did make skating fans hate her? She couldn’t handle the thought of people hating her just because he was coaching her. Seonghwa noticed how she looked and put his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to calm her. He felt her shoulders relax after he did.

“Sorry! We’re on your side, Y/N!” Yuuko said.

“Yeah, we are!” Minako said before twirling around. “I’ll come cheer you on this season, too! First up is the Cup of China!”

“Huh? Y/N, last year…In the Nationals…” Yuuri said.

“I think I finished eleventh because I messed up my prep,” Y/N said.

“I see…So you have to compete in the block championships,” Takeshi said.

Y/N nodded, but Seonghwa didn’t really know what they were talking about.

“What?” Seonghwa asked.

Y/N remembered, Seonghwa never had to worry about competing in block championships, so he wouldn’t know what they are. She looked up at him. “Oh, we’re talking about domestic competitions.”

“To explain, Y/N had a big-time loss in last year’s Nationals. So this year, she has to work her way up from qualifying championships. So her first even this season is the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship in September. It’ll be her comeback competition!” Yuuko explained.

Takeshi hit the back of Y/N’s head. “Well, you’ll breeze through that.”

“Ow,” Y/N said. She reached up to rub the part of her head that he had hit.

“Oh, but Wooyoung from Fukoka will be competing in it!” Yuuri said.

“Yeah, he beat Y/N in the nationals. Wooyoung Kenjiro from Kyushu, said to be the number one star among younger skaters,” The triplets explained.

‘Right, it’s already been more than six months since December, when I thought I was done for,’ Y/N thought.

“Good, good. We can cheer you on this year, too! Good luck,” Toshiya said.

“Dad,” Y/N said, a small smile on her face.

“We need to use this chance to make money!” Toshiya said.

The smile disappeared. “Dad.”

“You’ll autograph a sign, won’t you?” Hiroko asked.

‘Until now, I thought I was fighting all by myself. Now that Seonghwa’s here, that’s totally changed. Some things are still the same. Some have changed. Now everything feels so new. I may never be able to regain what I’ve lost, but I can clearly see what’s in front of me now.’

‘Figure skater are only competitive for a short time. This will probably be my last competitive figure skating season. My knee won’t last much longer,’ Y/N thought.

Y/N watched as Seonghwa demonstrated a jump with his hands, nodding as he continued the explanation.

‘I don’t know how long Seonghwa will stick around or how much longer my body will hold up,’ Y/N thought. ‘So please, God…Give me Seonghwa’s time, if only just for now. Please let me get that gold medal so I can end up with the man I care about.’

Seonghwa held the CD in his hand. “Y/N, you haven’t named the piece. What will it be?”

Y/N took the cap off the black marker she was holding and wrote down a name on the CD.

“That’s perfect,” Seonghwa said.

The CD was labeled “Y/N on Ice”.

‘September…Seonghwa’s and my season will finally begin,’ Y/N thought.

#yuri on ice #born to make history #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #ateez #xreader

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writer-rochelle · 4 years

Text

Statesman: Ablaze Ch.2: Off the Grid

(a/n: here is chapter 2 of the one thing im super frickin proud of. thank you @pomelloe-me for bullying me in our shared google doc to make sure i get things done. ily <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway.

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green 3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words "go away" floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head.

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck. She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone. The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well.

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door.

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp.

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters.

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left.

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen.

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town.

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves.

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's (a close second).

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, where she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it? ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room.

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the ‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’.

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served.

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands.

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating.

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you…fuck head.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like "hoe bag", you learned to acknowledge the underlying "I love you".

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table.

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain mustached cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair.

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile.

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie.

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home.

* * * * *

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy.

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls.

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘Boring.’ Pom thought, ‘Carey must have been watching it last.’

“The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress…..” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words.

“Fuck off, ‘beloved my ass’” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn.

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates.

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering.

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile.

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case.

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it.

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off.

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration.

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them.

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat.

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack.

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. Well, duty calls.

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button.

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room.

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could.

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.”

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too.

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this.

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table.

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention.

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent.

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept.

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at 0800, We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call.

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.”

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her.

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one.

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm.

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face.

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait.

(a/n: thank you all for reading and standing by while i get in the swing of things. i now have a masterlist, and post with who and what yall can request will be coming soon. <3 roach)

#Statesman:Ablaze #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x oc #agent tequila x reader #agent tequila x oc #agent whiskey fic #oc fic #jack daniels #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal #kingsman golden circle #statesman

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ocean-park-avenue · 5 years

Text

Loki’s Audition for America’s Got Talent

Words: 1128

Originally found on my AO3 account: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760233

Summary: Loki auditions for the 14th season of America's Got Talent.

“Hello, and welcome to America’s Got Talent. What’s your name?”

“Thank you. My name is Loki Laufeyson.”

Simon Cowell’s brows furrowed together. “That’s your real name?”

“Yes. My parents were large fans of Norse Mythology.”

The audience and judges laughed, and Loki had to focus all his will power to not roll his eyes.

“Okay, then. What will you be doing for us?”

“Illusions.”

“Oh, so you’re a magician?” Julianne Hough chimed in.

“No—,” Loki cleared his throat and chuckled. “Well, yes, technically. But I prefer the term ‘Trickster’.”

The female judges giggled and Loki could already tell he had their votes.

“Well, good luck.” Simon waved his hand dismissively.

Loki nodded and the audience cheered. He adjusted his black tie along with his tailored suit and walked down to the judge's table.

“Now first, I think we should get comfortable with each other, so...” Loki smiled mischievously as he reached behind his back and pulled out two glasses of red wine. “Would you ladies like some wine?”

All the judges' faces dropped and the audience gasped.

“What? You ladies don’t like red? I can fix that.”

With a swirl of the glasses, the red wine miraculously turned white. Loki placed down both glasses and put his hands behind his back as he soaked in the applause of the audience and the aghast faces of the judges.

Loki hummed as he watched Julianne’s amazed face as she precariously touched the glass in front of her. “Don’t think I didn’t forget about you gentlemen.”

Out of thin air, Loki pulled out two scotch on the rocks from behind his back as well and placed one in front of each man.

Julianne tasted the white wine and her eyes went wide. “It tastes like white!” She yelled excitedly as she pointed to the glass.

Gabrielle Union also tasted hers and was surprised that Julianne was right.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I prefer my wine red. Would you care to change it?” Gabrielle handed Loki the glass.

He smirked. “Certainly, my dear.”

With one small movement of his finger, the liquid turned red. He handed the glass back to her. “Enjoy.”

She took a sip. As soon as it touched her lips she instantly knew it was different.

Julianne took the glass from Gabrielle and also drank it. “This one tastes like red now!” And the audience cheered.

Loki smiled to himself. Why hadn’t he done this sooner?

“Now, I must move on before time runs out, so if you could all kindly pass me the glasses, that would be lovely.”

Each judge handed Loki back a glass, he casually put them on the inside of his jacket.

Howie Mandel stood up suddenly. “H-how? How are you doing that?”

“What?” Loki asked his such feigned innocence. He put his hands up and tried his best to look unimpeachable.

He opened his suit jacket to show nothing was there. Loki even took it off and threw it to the ground. So much for his $28,000 suit. Well, it wasn’t like he paid for it.

He rubbed his hands together as he walked back to the stage. “Now, I would like to call up Julianne and Gabrielle to the stage.”

The audience clapped as both ladies came around and joined Loki on stage.

“Here we have a normal table and a curtain.” He held up the opaque item to the crowd.

“Ladies, feel free to check any of the items. Make sure they are not rigged.”

Julianne checked around the table while Gabrielle looked thoroughly at the curtain.

Loki climbed up to the table and held out his hand to each lady as they climbed up as well. He handed each person a corner of the curtain.

“Hold up the curtain ‘till it covers my body completely.”

He stepped inside the circular hoop holding the curtain together and both ladies lifted it until he was completely covered.

“Now, could you ladies rapidly lift the curtain up as high as you can, then low to the ground?”

“Certainly,” Julianne said eagerly.

When they both brung the curtain to the ground, Loki was gone and the audience gasped. But in actuality, he had just made himself invisible.

They both raised the curtain again and brought it down. The audience was astonishing to see not only had Loki reappeared, but was sporting an entirely new look: his Asgardian casual wear.

Julianne and Gabrielle raised and lowered the curtain again and Loki had disappeared again. Once more, they raised and lowered the curtain and Loki reappeared in his Asgardian armour, including his war helmet.

“One last time!” They raised up the curtain and dropped it once last time to discover he was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, he popped up from beneath the judges' table— of course by teleportation— and raised his arms to the ceiling as he enjoyed the standing ovation he was receiving from the audience and judges.

He walked back to the stage and helped both women down from the table. Both clapped and cheered loudly as they sat back in their seats.

“Wow. That was just amazing, Loki!” Julianne exclaimed. “The way you just disappeared and then reappeared in a totally different outfit was fantastic! What did you think Gabrielle?”

“I— Honestly, same. I have no words. That was absolutely magnificent.”

Loki nodded to Gabrielle. “Thank you.”

“Howie?”

Howie just looked to Loki with such an aghast face and Loki enjoyed every second of it. “What you did in the beginning with the wine and drinks was awesome, but you really topped it with the second part. Just, wow.”

“Simon?”

“I have to tell you, Loki. I’ve been doing this for years and we’ve never had anything like that on this show before, or any show for that matter. That was truly an amazing and entertaining act.”

“Never? Why, thank you.” Loki smirked.

“I also love the way you talk.” Julianne commented. “Where are you from?”

“I’m originally from Norway but I moved to London when I was a child.”

“Shall we take a vote?” Simon turned to the other judges.

“Definitely a yes,” Howie said still smiling with childlike wonder.

“Yes,” Gabrielle said. Loki winked to her and he was surprised when she reciprocated the action.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Julianne proclaimed happily.

“It’s a yes from me,” Simon said. “Meaning you move onto the next round.”

Loki waved to the adoring crowd as he walked off stage. He was greeted by the comedic duo: Anthony ‘Ant’ McPartlin and Declan ‘Dec’ Donnelly.

“That was amazing, Loki!” Ant said. “How’d you do it?”

Loki chuckled. “Magic, of course.”

The duo chuckled. “Of course,” Dec said with laughter.

Loki smiled with pride as he walked off. His plan was working perfectly.

Midgardians are so gullible.

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sm-entertain-me · 5 years

Text

Hit the Lotto (M)

Contains: Kim Jongin x (f) reader, adult language, smut, sexual themes, teasing, public fingering, exhibitionism, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

Synopsis: As a celebration of getting the promotion at work, you and your coworkers decide to hit up the hottest casino in town, EXO Planet. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky.

Author's Note: Inspiration comes from the Lotto MV, and I might make this into a series featuring every member depending on how well received this is.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Your best friend/coworker Laura said loud enough to be heard over the chimes and whistles of all of the slot machines being played in the background, everyone around the table raising their glasses of respective alcohol to the sky. A light hue of red fell on your cheeks as all of the people at the table looked at you, knowing who the toast would be about. Once Laura was satisfied with the amount of attention she managed to grab from the crowd, she held her glass up in the air to continue her toast, “To the best damn accountant our firm has ever seen, to the person who kicks ass and takes numbers down like a champ. You deserved it, babe. To Y/N!” “To Y/N!” Everyone chorused, smiling brightly at you as they watched you lift your glass in recognition before you slammed your shot of vodka back.

When the formalities were done with, everyone was free to explore the casino as they wished since the firm decided to gift everyone with $100 to spend and hopefully land a jackpot or two. Being as though you were the guest of honor tonight, your firm forked out an extra $100 for you to either pocket or bet on miscellaneous games that were being played around the casino. Although you really weren’t much of a gambler, how could you say no to $200 being thrown at you in hopes of you either breaking even or even doubling the amount in your hand? But you didn’t want to waste it all on the slot machines like everyone else in your firm was doing, you wanted to delve into the gambling experience with a classic game of luck and strategy: Craps.

As you made your way over to the Craps table that seemed to have the most life, drink hanging loosely in your hand, you noticed a particularly well dressed man sitting at the head of the table with women on either side of his arm. He had beautifully tanned skin with a mop of dark black hair that seemed like it was styled hours ago only to be ruined by him constantly raking his fingers through it, biceps bulging out as he sat with his arm bent on the table. The man looked like someone of importance by the way he drew the attention of nearly everyone in the casino and how the table worker seemed to fear him if his game didn’t go the way he wanted. Normally a man of this kind of debonair would frighten you, but with the alcohol running through your veins, he seemed that much more enticing.

It took you a hot minute, but you finally mustered up enough liquid courage to walk up to a spot at his table, sliding in whenever he sent one of his females to fetch him a drink. The minute you showed up next to him, his eyes were on your body, examining how your gown accentuated your curves perfectly and gave your ass the most flattering bend. “Staring will get you in trouble,” You murmured into your glass as you reached over and placed a ten dollar poker chip on snake eyes, feeling a little bit risky for playing on a roll that was so specific. You heard the man next to you chuckle as he turned completely around to face you, his eyes wandering from your jawline, down to your slender neck, and then back up to meet your gaze, “What if I’m looking for trouble?” A smirk fell on your face as you took the dice from the table worker, looking over at the man before you rolled blindly, neglecting to answer his question at the moment for you feared it might get you in some trouble with the dapper man.

As time went on and the alcohol flooded your veins, you found yourself becoming more and more susceptible to the man’s advances. His name is Jongin and he has the ability to make your walls clench around nothing just by the way he speaks to you. And he can tell by the way his hand is resting on your ass as you bend forward to collect your earnings, readying yourself to leave. That is, before he stops you. “Oh baby, leaving so soon? I was just getting started with you,” Jongin teased as his hot breath fanned your neck, watching the way your skin formed goosebumps almost immediately. Again, the alcohol found a way to fuel your words as you cocked your head to the side at him, an daring smile on your lips, “And tell me, Jongin. What were you planning to do if I stayed?” Jongin replicated your smirk as he stepped closer to you, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear while his hand slid up your inner thigh, daring to slide inward to your yearning pussy, “Maybe you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

Jongin kept his hand on the inside of your thigh, his eyes remaining on your face as he watched your eyes widen from the new warmth that rested just below your clothed pussy. Pressing your lips tightly together, you gave him a subtle nod as you turned back to the Craps table to place yet another bet to see just what Jongin was capable of doing with his fingers. He let out a comfortable sigh as he too turned towards the Craps table, his face never wavering as his fingers slid past the flimsy material of your panties and pressed firmly against your dripping hole, smirking to himself when he realized how much of your arousal had coated his finger. The adrenaline of having Jongin finger you in front of all of these people had you even more willing to take him, another gush of your arousal spilling onto his fingers as Jongin massaged the tender skin of your folds.

“Your turn to roll miss,” The table worker said as he eyed you questioningly but looked away the minute Jongin glared up at him, silently ordering him to mind his own business or there would be hell to pay. You shifted uncomfortably at your end of the table as you leaned forward for the dice, inadvertently granting Jongin more room to slide up into you. You had to choke back a moan when you felt Jongin’s ringed finger slide into your pussy, feeling the coolness of his band pressing against your screaming clit as Jongin simply hummed, his free hand playing with the massive amount of chips in his hand as he decided where to place his bet. A small whimper could be heard by those closest to you as Jongin rubbed his thumb over your clit, your hands reaching out and gripping the edge of the table to brace yourself properly as Jongin stretched your pussy open with three fingers. He was on a mission to have you cumming all over his fingers in front of all these strangers.

Luckily all of the table attendees were too busy focusing on how the dice rolled down the table to notice how flushed your cheeks were, how white your knuckles were by gripping tightly on your edge of the table, and the fact that you were struggling more and more to keep your whines down as Jongin flicked your clit mercilessly. You felt the pressure inside of your walls subside a little as Jongin leaned forward to whisper in your ear, stilling the movements of his fingers slightly, “Are you going to cum for me princess? In front of all of these people?” At this point, you were no longer able to form sentences as you simply nodded, watching the smirk on Jongin’s face grow deeper as he leaned back, gripping your hip with his free hand and having you take the entire length of his fingers. The constant curling of his fingers mixed with the cold band still pressed to your clit and the unforgiving flicks to your engorged clit had you clamping down around Jongin’s slender fingers, bringing to your edge much faster than you anticipated.

Jongin knew you were cumming as he leaned forward to catch your mouth on his neck, your teeth sinking down into the slender column of his neck as you whined pathetically against his skin. The harder you bit on his skin to muffle your cries, the harder it was for Jongin to contain his groans from such a pleasurable feeling of your teeth on his neck. “Jongin,” You whispered breathlessly into his neck, your eyes hooded from pure bliss. He chuckled at how out of breath you were as he let you relax and slowly pulled his fingers out of your soaked pussy, but not before he grabbed your panties and ordered you to slip out of them as quickly as possible, creating a diversion for you. Jongin acted like he dropped his chip on the ground and employed you to help him, only to have you bend down underneath the table and slip your panties off to give them to Jongin as he requested. Just as you thought Jongin was done with you, he simply pulled you back up to a standing position and held you close to him, shooting you a hungry look before he spoke, “Get your things and come upstairs. Don’t keep me waiting for long.”

Within minutes, you fond yourself cashing in on your earnings and rushing to the elevators to reach the resort part of the casino, looking diligently at the small piece of paper that lay in between your fingers. It was Jongin’s room number, the numbers written down smoothly and confidently like he knew you were going to show up no matter what. And he wasn’t wrong, he literally had you in his hands. You were a mess at his touch, and that was only his fingers, you couldn’t wait to see how much of a mess you would be whenever his dick would be throbbing inside of you.

When the elevator arrived at your designated floor, your legs acted on their own accord and moved quickly to the hotel room that was on the piece of paper, stopping right before a lavish suite that had a convenient “Do not Disturb” placard in cursive writing. You smirked to yourself as you knocked on the door, met with the sound of footsteps hurrying to your location. Your hands smoothed over the soft material of the dress you were wearing, only taking your hands off when the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Jongin with his signature smirk. “I’m so glad you made it. Come in,” Jongin cooed as he opened the door for you, you not wanting to keep him waiting for very much longer, especially since you were running out of time to run your tongue all over his abs.

“Fuck,” You cursed as you sat on Jongin’s lap, allowing his teeth to sink into the skin of your neck while your fingers tugged at the soft tresses of his hair. You could feel his plump lips form a smile as he pressed them tightly to your neck, dragging his tongue along the slender column to feel you shiver in his grasp. As he worked on your neck, your hands slid down the expanse of his abs and rested on his pants, tugging playfully at the belt. Jongin pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes with a hardened gaze, wiggling his eyebrows as he looked down at his hardened length that was trapped in his trousers instead of deep inside of your pussy, “Take them off so I can fuck you like you deserve to be.” You physically shuddered at the depth of his voice as you ripped his belt off and dove into his crotch area, pulling his cock out of his boxers and staring down at it with a dry throat. He was huge.

Jongin continued to get you all worked up to get you as wet as possible before he lifted you up and slid you down on his fully erect member, both of you groaning out at the sensation as his head fell backwards against the headboard. “So tight,” Jonging muttered as he looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes momentarily to feel all of the ridges of your tightening walls encasing his cock. You licked your lips at his compliments as you straddled him, letting your walls get accustomed to his larger than average length. Jongin’s hands gripped the flesh of your ass as he pulled your hips to grind down on him, moving you the way he liked until you decided to take over to blow his fucking mind.

The pace you set on Jongin was nothing short of animalistic as you ground your hips along his pelvis, your pussy sucking in his cock to the deepest he could go as your hands rested on his taut chest, nails raking against his pristine skin as he moaned out from the pain. Jongin’s eyes were hooded as he looked up at you, admiring the sexy look of concentration on your face as you sped up on his length, angling yourself so that his cock would brush against your clit and drove you crazy. Whenever you wanted to rest, Jongin would gladly dig his fingers into your hips and pump into you from below, forcing your eyes to widen and your mouth to drop open as you looked directly at him with blown wide pupils.

“What is it baby?” Jongin questioned with a smirk from the look of pure ecstasy on your face. “So... fucking good... Fuck Jongin!” You cried out as Jongin had taken one of his hands and pushed his finger onto your clit, edging you to take over fucking him into oblivion while he flicked your clit at a brutal pace, desperate to get you to cum before he did. The harder he pushed on your clit, the harder you rolled your hips on Jongin’s cock, forcing your ass down completely on his pelvis to take all of his length inside of your pulsating walls. “Oh god, baby you’re doing so great. K-Keep going,” Jongin stammered as his lip nested between his porcelain white teeth, his fingernails digging deeply into your hip to create little crescents to remind you of this night. The combination of you slamming down on his cock mixed with his pumping into you from below and the proper stimulation of your clit was dangerous.

“Ohhh fuck! Fuck yes, Jongin! I-I’m cu-,” You cried out as your hips jolted quickly around his waist, walls clenching around Jongin’s cock as you arched your back to the ceiling. Jongin’s eyebrows screwed tightly together as the feeling of your walls encasing his already throbbing cock threw him over his edge, his cum painting your walls white as he released. Your name was constantly on his lips as his head fell backwards against the headboard, slumping against the cold wood as you fell forward onto his chest, completely fucked out. Jongin breathed hard into your ear, holding you close to him as he began to drift to sleep without so much as another word to you. But you can’t blame him, you were already at the point of welcoming sleep with open arms.

When morning came to steal you back from the best sleep you had ever had in your life, you were met with an empty bed and no sign of Jongin anywhere to be found. A small frown appeared on your face as you stretched into the covers, sighing at the fact that you were just another quick fuck. However, as you leaned over to the side of the bed to get your phone and start the process of leaving, you saw a tiny slip of paper lying next to your phone and a business card with Jongin’s name on it, the emblem belonging to the EXO Planet Resort and Casinos emblazoned just below his name. “Good morning princess, I hope you slept well. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you wake up but just know that I’ll be thinking of you and hope you’ll accept my offer of seeing you again. Oh, and congrats on the promotion, we’ll have to celebrate soon. XO, Jongin,”

#Kai #Kai smut #Kai fanfiction #Kim Jongin #Kim Jongin smut #Kim Jongin fanfiction #EXO #EXO smut #EXO fanfiction #SM #Kpop #Kpop smut #Kpop fanfiction #Fanfiction #Smut #EXO Kai #EXO Jongin #EXOL

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kpopchangedme · 5 years

Text

Folks & Hooligans | Im Jaebum

The best festivals are always the ones where folks dress like royalty and princes go rogue...

Protagonist: Im Jaebum & You

Word Count: 2.2k (got carried away, oops!)

Genre: SFW - Romance - Royalty - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “People are staring”

GOT7 | M.list

A girl like you can only wear so much crinoline fabric before she starts losing her damn mind...

There’s something about all those champagne flutes being refilled every time they’re emptied, that orchestra never missing a single beat, the candelabras all lit at once above the palace’ ballroom… Magic is in the air. It’s in each bubble reaching the surface of the effervescent liquid in your glass, it’s in the luxurious sounds coming from your heavy gown every move you make. It is addictive. The Festival of Masks is supposed to feel exactly like this every year, but you wouldn’t know since it’s the first time you are free from kitchen duties.

“Milady,” Your old friend Wonpil pulls you out of your reverie by theatrically bowing down in front of you. He’s wearing a fancy black costume and a silvery mask covers his features entirely, but you still identify his familiar clumsiness. “Good evening to you.”

“Likewise,” playing the part, you extend your gloved hand and he hurries to kiss it, “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m afraid the pleasure is all mine, Sir.” Wonpil smiles squarely at the joke, blushing under his mask. He runs his fingers on the rich fabric of his extravagant waistcoat nervously.

“It’s me, Miss y/n,” Leaning into your ear, he whispers in fake secrecy, “the royal coachman.”

“Oh!” Fanning your masked face, you pretend to be embarrassed by the confusion and his smile widens, “You looked so fancy, I thought you were one of the princes!”

“You’re the biggest transformation...” Wonpil shakes his head, glancing around at the crowd of dancers enjoying the masquerade. “You look enchanting!”

“This dress is slightly different than what I usually wear, I must admit.”

“Well, today we can be whatever we want, that’s the whole point.” The young man runs a hand through his pulled back dark hair, eyeing a petite woman leaning over the buffet. You’ve lost his interest. “Do you think that could be Dahyun?”

You follow his gaze, “Oh, I think it might-” But already he’s gone, and you roll your eyes back, irked but unsurprised by his lack of consideration. He’s always been like that ever since you were children, never paying attention long enough to notice you’d enjoy if he did. “Enchanting my arse.”

“Fret not, I assure you it is lovely from here,” Someone rudely chimes in from behind you and your sip of champagne goes down the wrong pipe.

“I beg your pardon?” You’re coughing to recover as you turn to face the masked stranger, eyes teary and throat on fire.

“Your arse, Miss,” He says without any shame, now standing in front of you. Even upset and after many years, you recognise him right away. In his gorgeous crimson suit, it’d be foolish to mistake him for anyone else and he isn’t the kind of man a gal easily forgets.

“Oh…” You exhale, startled, and his teasing smile stretches dangerously under his golden intricate mask. That perfect mischievous toothy grin everyone knows so well within the palace walls.

“Oh?” The first-born prince Im Jaebum, mimics back and you courtesy awkwardly. “Not quite the reaction I was hoping for, Miss.”

You’re about to excuse yourself when you remember he has no idea who he’s teasing this time. As a teenager, he was known as quite the troublemaker by the servants, and you also had the misfortune of getting caught once or twice in his shenanigans. Instead of avoiding him like you should, you decide to tease back a little. It’s not like he’ll recognise someone like you. He just got back after 3 years of guiding the army on the front lines. He was sent there by the High King in the hopes of ‘taming’ his defiant nature.

“Were you hoping to offend me?” You boldly grin as you speak and the rebellious prince leans in, interested. “This is what masquerades are for, afterall...” He doesn’t seem to notice and follows when you step back. You have to press yourself against the nearest pillar to stay at an appropriate distance.

“What is the point of all this fuss, Miss? I’m afraid I’ve missed festivities for so long I can’t quite remember...” His eyes unmistakably dip on the front of your dress, right where your breasts are exposed, constricted by the corset you aren’t used to wear. You would roll your eyes if you weren’t trying to keep a cool exterior. Miss. So you were right, there’s no way the prince would recognise kitchen staff like you, much less after his years away. “I beg you, kiss and tell,” he insists with a smirk.

“W-Well, folks masquerade as royals...” Your breath catches when his dark gaze finally climbs back to yours, “so... Princes behave as hooligans.” You hold your breath; you just called a royal out for his improper conduct.

“Really Miss?” The prince only smirks, not looking insulted at all. “Do you truly believe the festival is why...” Without warning, his palm finds the pillar next to your head and his left hand grabs a curl that has escaped your bun. He leans above you, caging you against the marble until there’s almost no space left between your bodies. “.... I feel like misbehaving...”

Prince Jaebum toys with your hair and you stand there, completely frozen by the intimate gesture. He bites his lips, looking down at you and obviously enjoying your uneasiness. He is infamous for his charm and wit, dangerous character traits you’ve been warned about by other women for years. Now you’re beginning to see why. Your palms are sweaty, and you swear your bodice is getting tighter by the seconds. From this close, it doesn’t seem like time in the army did his playful character any good.

“People are staring…” You manage to mutter in a daze.

“Let them.” Although the prince doesn’t move, his dark irises slide to the corner of his eyes to glance at the busy crowd. It feels like the entire kingdom is in this ballroom. “I assure you... I would take offense if they were looking anywhere else but at you, Miss.” He says this easily, with all the confidence in the world, and your heart skips a beat.

Your little gasp at his shameless compliment makes his lips curl upwards, pleased. “Your Royal Highness...” You whisper in awe, trying to get yourself together again. You miss how quickly that smile falls from his face when you use his rank.

In a heartbeat you are both gone from the publicness of the ballroom. The unruly prince’s hand is wrapped around your wrist, pulling you through a warren of familiar stone corridors. You surprise yourself by following obediently, it’s like you don’t know any better. You’re excited and curious, a part of you wanting to know exactly where this momentary noble disguise can take you. He finally stops when you reach an alcove in the empty west wing of the palace, far away from the festivities. The prince sighs, untying the black ribbon holding his mask in place. You stare in awe at his handsome face, only now fully realising the predicament you’re in. He looks way manlier than the last time you’ve seen him and then again, you have never stood this close. Seeing as you don’t do the same, he rolls his eyes, raising his arms to get rid of your mask himself. Refusing to reveal your identity, you step back until you’re caught against a stone wall again. He can’t find out who you are, especially since you’ve called him out for his inappropriate behaviour. If he recognised you, you would probably lose your job. His brows raise in annoyance, but he lets his arms fall to his sides aimlessly.

“Folks masquerade as royals for one night, Sir. Anonymity is a given.”

Prince Jaebum chuckles at your explanation, shaking his head slightly. He takes a step closer, way too close for appropriate etiquette, and you must tilt your head to keep looking at him.

“Then perhaps you should’ve known better than to follow a one-night hooligan down here...” Your lips part, about to say something witty back, but he runs his finger along your jawline, making you forget everything. “Mr. Kim was right, you are absolutely enchanting tonight...” Complimenting you once more, the prince drops his head. He’s so close you can feel the warmth coming from his body even through your layers of formal clothing. His breath is on your neck making you shiver, and shut both eyes, overwhelmed. “Do you want to hear a secret, Miss?” His lips brush your ear and you grip his waistcoat to stay up, the gesture causing him to chuckle again.

“Y-Yes?” That’s it. You’ve lost your mind. Here you are clinging to one of the princes, the heir to the throne of them all! The magic from tonight has really made you into someone else.

He blinks, merriment giving way to an odd seriousness, “I find you look even better in your kitchen’ uniform...”

“You…” So he did recognise you! He watches you struggle with this confession through his eyelashes, still holding your neck with one of his hands. “You are making fun of me, Sir.”

“If only I was!” The prince laughs at that, thumb stocking your jaw. “One would have to be blind to overlook you...”

Again, instead of doing the right thing, you simply falter at his compliment. “Your Royal Highness…”

He sighs, closing both eyes briefly. “I’m a hooligan remember, address me by my name.”

“Oh,” your eyes round in amazement, “I c-couldn’t, Sir!”

“May I call you y/n?” Prince Jaebum tries your name and the simple sound of it coming from his mouth makes something stir in your stomach. You nod slightly, like under a spell. He doesn’t seem half as rude from up close. “May I take off your mask, y/n?” You nod once more, but already he’s pulling at the ribbons, untying the bow holding it in place. He removes your mask delicately, watching as you drop your chin to the ground to avoid his scrutiny, his grin widens. “And may I kiss you?”

You gasp in consternation at this request, and suddenly look up. “Why?”

The prince raises a brow in incredulity; “Isn’t this what troublemakers do, alone in the dark with the festival’s most beautiful woman?”

“Oh, you’re only teasing me again, Sir!” He laughs at your retort, tilting your head back with a hand while the other finds a spot between your hips on your back.

“I promise I’m not, y/n…” You shiver at the touch and he must notice because his eyes drop to your mouth. “And it is just Jaebum for tonight...”

“Jaebum,” you murmur despite yourself and he smiles, flashing his pearly white teeth. You’ve already gone this far. Might as well transgress all rules, the magic of the masquerade only lasts for one night. “Are you going to kiss me now, Jaebum?”

Before you can even acknowledge what you just dared to ask, the prince presses his lips on yours. The embrace is soft and brief, barely there before it’s gone, and you heave when he pulls back. This is going to hurt when reality hits, but you don’t care. After assessing your reaction, Jaebum is kissing you again. This time with more urgency and hunger than you can handle. Your knees betray you, but he keeps you up with his body thanks to the wall, careful not to crush you. His mouth teases yours skillfully, forcing you to give back just as much. Your hands slide to his shoulders and hair, messing up his neat presentation but his do the same, and none of you seems to mind. Jaebum nibbles at your lower lip, requesting access to your mouth and you comply, unable to resist him any longer.

He could make you agree to anything tonight and although he seems well aware of this power, he’s the one who pulls back. The prince presses his forehead to yours, breathing heavily. You stay like that for infinity, in silence since you can’t form a coherent sentence and he seems similarly affected.

Jaebum sighs, “I believe you were really really wrong earlier.” Suddenly apprehensive, you open your eyes to find him gazing at you heavily. “I don’t think the masquerade has anything to do with my behaviour at all.” You can’t help your uncomfortable laugh and he nudges his nose against yours, palm rubbing small circles on your lower back to reassure you. “I’m being serious, we have a problem...” His hand presses you into him and you link your arms behind his neck to keep close. Again, you’ve totally lost it.

“What is it?” You’re pretty sure you will be having bigger problems than him when you wake up tomorrow. It’s not like you’ll be able to move on from the prince easily.

“I’m not a one-night hooligan,” he whispers, a smile in his voice, “I must have been born for this.”

“What do you m-” Jaebum pecks your lips and rolls his eyes back, effectively shutting you up.

“I plan on misbehaving very often from now on,” he bites his swollen lips, observing your reaction. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes. “That is... Only if you’ll have me, Miss y/n…”

GOT7 | M.list

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