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fairiesdowntheroad · 8 months

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SHE LOVES CONTROL — 1.

summary — Y/N takes the internet by storm,catching the eyes of all due to her performance on the track ; it just happens that she also captured a certain McLaren driver’s attention in the process.

pairing — f1 22-23 grid x fem! driver reader,love interest tbd

warnings — alludes to alcohol consumption,F-bombs here and there,some misogynistic flashbacks,race inaccuracies!!!

prologue | chapter 1 | next chapter

FROM J ⛅️ : hi everyone! we’re finally at chapter 1,let’s goooo!! i tried completing this as quick as i could for you guys — so i hope it’s alright 🌟 nothing really important this chapter,just our golden girl reaching huge milestones and forming a friendship (who knows? 🫣) with a certain someone on the grid.

lmk what you think and hope you enjoy! i wish you guys lots of love <3

BAHRAIN 23’ : SUNDAY.

P8.

Qualifying P8 overall? That was horrid for everyone’s standards….but qualifying P8 in a Williams that was considered a tractor? That was impressive.First race of the season…

First race in her entire Formula 1 career.

She was nervous,stressed,scared — a whirlwind of emotions really.There was only so much her teammate could do,trying to console her was proved useless as of now.The girl’s mind pranced all over the place,she tried — key word being tried, to slow down her heart.The Brit had taken a seat next to her,watching her lose her mind.He sighed softly,understanding how she would feel yet wanting her to put her doubts and worries to a pause.

Even if they only were acquainted for a few months,he could already read her like a book.She reminded him of himself — a particular time where he was in Toro Rosso.

“Y/N” he called out softly,placing a hand on her shoulder.The girl simply looked up at him with an indifferent expression,though he knew she was hiding all those emotions in her heart.Her hands balled up into fists on her lap,turning a shade lighter than her actual skin was a telltale sign. “You’ll be fine” he reminds her softly.

You’ll be fine.

She will be fine.

The words sinking in,she thought deep and hard about what he said.The worst case scenario would be a DNF — but there were many more races in the season to prove her worth.What if people would hate her for her performance? — people would hate her regardless of what she does ; she’s a woman to begin with.

She nodded her head slowly accepting his words.Don’t get me wrong she was still very nervous….but it couldn’t go absolutely horrid right? “I hope so.” she breathed out,nervous chuckle coming out.

“It’s your first race so I understand the nervousness..but take it easy”

Taking out her phone she scrolled through her messages one last time…only to find a message from her father.Her eyes scanned over the message — trying to hide a smile from forming.

‘Goodluck,will be watching you from the team’s garage’

Not her team though.

Putting the phone away to put on her balaclava and helmet,she quickly made herself comfortable in the car.Checking the settings one last time and doing a radio check ; she was all set to go.She manoeuvred the car out of the pit lane,taking her rightful place between the other 19 cars on the circuit.

“The goal is to maintain your position,overtake if you can but don’t be risky” her race engineer — Rowan informed her.“Copy.” she replied monotously,choosing to put her full attention on the red lights.

Only a few more seconds…and then away we go.It seemed like it would take forever for the light to go off.’You got this’ she repeated over and over again in her head….she would be okay.

3..

2…….

Hitting the throttle to push as much as much as she could,she managed to maintain her position right behind her teammate.Through her side mirror she spotted the obnoxiously pink and blue Alpine trying to catch up to her.Was it Gasly’s or Ocons’s? She didn’t care at all.All she knew was to defend her spot — and playing the supporting role for her teammate.

This went on for a few more laps.She was restless ; her mind thinking of ways to solve the little problem on her hands right now.

Seeing the Alpine begin to close the gap,she pushed the pedal harder than she thought she could.Her heart pumped at undeniable speeds,feeling the adrenaline coursing through.“Gap to Gasly is 6.2 seconds.You can push,the tyres are still fresh” Rowan commented.

“Copy.” She kept her replies short and sweet,all her concentration poured into increasing the distance between her and the other cars behind her.She inched closer to her teammate,not willing to overtake for now.She would have to listen to the team’s instructions…but there was something off.

He was slowing down.

“Alex is going awfully slow” she remarked through comms with worry seeping through.She maintained her pace which caused her to be wheel-to-wheel with her teammate.His car pulled over to the side,leaving her as the only Williams car in the race.Eyebrows furrowing wirh confusement she thought of bringing it up with the team.

“Alex has been instructed to retire the car due to an engine problem—you have to push as much as you can to maintain your momentum.”

Didn’t need to tell her twice.

She said nothing,trying her best to catch up to the two orange McLarens in front of her.Getting closer,the hairs on her neck were pin straight.

“You have DRS.Overtake available”

“Copy” she hummed.Inching even closer then before,there it was.She could overtake now.She drove past by the first McLaren with ease.Oscar,the Australian McLaren driver in question was surprised there was a Williams gliding right in front of him.Sitting comfortably in P6 now,she was on a roll!

Within a few moments,she was able to strike for the overtake over the other McLaren.She was taking her rightful place as P5.

Just a little bit more.

It felt like forever,mere minutes feeling the same as a millennia for the rookie.By now,it was the final lap so she pushed as hard as she could.Passing the finish line she let out a breath of relief — she completed her first race.

“Congratulations Y/N…that is P5.”

P5…

What.The.Fuck.

“You’re joking….right? There’s no way we placed P5” she asked bluntly.She may have sounded blunt — but the girl was overjoyed.

The car was a tractor by how problematic it was during pre-season testing ; how was it in the points now? It was a relief.She laughed obnoxiously,smiling through that balaclava and helmet.

“Believe if it you want but that is a P5 on your debut.Beautiful performance from you — cannot wait to see more” Rowan congratulated her wirh a chuckle,amused at how she was seemed ro be in disbelief.The girl was laughing in joy now.It might not have been a podium like she was used to,but a P5 in a Williams was almost the equivalent of that.

She was nowhere near being satisfied ; but this would have to count for now.

She pulled her car into the garage,hopping out of the cockpit cheerfully.Taking off the balaclava and her helmet,the girl was greeted with cheers and rounds of applause from her team.She bloomed with joy — she didn’t care if her hair was sweaty and all over the place,this was where her hard work has gotten her.

Alex had made his way next to her,bringing the younger girl into a brief embrace.He was disappointed the first race of the season resulted in a DNF for himself,but he would not let that stop him from celebrating his teammate.

“Told you it would be alright” he muttered close to her so she could hear him.She simply flashed him a small smile,her heart filled with gratitude for him.The whole team embraced the two drivers to celebrate,regardless of the outcome.It was a new start.

A good one to say the least.

MCLAREN: LAP 40/57

The Brit drove comfortably in his McLaren.He was not worried about losing positions now,there was a comfortable distance between him and the car behind him.Driving without a worry,he failed to notice the Williams inching closer and closer to him.

“Lando,you need to push.The Williams is closing the gap between you two.”

What?

There was no way a Williams was behind him.Was he too slow or was the car suddenly blessed by the gods of speed? He couldn’t waste any time pondering further on that — he wouldn’t let himself lose to that tractor.

“Copy.” he replied quickly hitting the pedal to the metal.He tried his best to maintain his momentum ; but it came to no avail.The car had glided right past him in the matter of seconds.

“Was that the rookie’s car?” he asked in disbelief attempting to catch up to the woman in front of him.

“Yes — that was Y/N’s car”

“Fucking hell.”

The after party was…insane to say the least.

She didn’t exactly oppose parties — but she wasn’t entirely open to them either.The loud screams of joy,sweaty bodies colliding against each other,and the overall smell of alcohol ; she was not really pleased with the thought of parties as a whole.

Everyone in the club was celebrating the start of the season, it would be a memorable one for the books.She was only a few drinks in but ready to call it a day so she could head back to her room.

Stood next to a wasted Alex,he was rambling her ear off about something beyond her comprehension.The pair had showed up together after he convinced her to ; saying something along the lines of ‘enjoying your firsts’ which definetly gave off an entirely different message….

She was unsure of what to do with him — call a cab back to the hotel? let him have his fun? The girl was stuck pondering there and nodding mindlessly to his slurring and rambling.

“I think I’ll take him off your hands for now rookie.”

Her head shot up at the voice approaching her.She instantly knew who it was ; his British accent was hard to miss.The two were cackling at the wasted gentleman.

Greeting him with a nod,she knudged the other driver next to her so he could acknowledge the newcomer.

“LANDO! I’ve been waiting for you” Alex happily chirped,throwing himself to his fellow friend.She watched in amusement as the situation unfolded in front of her.The younger man slinging his senior’s hand around him,he walked towards the center of the party — where the other drivers sat.Their eyes scanned over to a very drunk Alex whose body was supported by the McLaren driver,and then the newbie who did not want to be here.

She flashed a friendly smile to the others as they were welcoming her with cheers.Pierre instantly had to make himself known,greeting her with a wink.She brushed it off,choosing to focus on the others.They went back to being engrossed in their own conversations — she felt out of place.Of course she did! She was a woman standing amongst sweaty and intoxicated men…definetly a position she was not to happy to be in.

Her bubble of thoughts were popped when the young man approached her once more.“Sorry about Alex,I think he’s drinking all that pain from his DNF away.” he remarked,eyes crinkling as he joked.The girl chuckled softly with him.

“He did give me a warning before hand that he was a lightweight — I was surprised it was that bad”

“Well,I would be drinking the night away too if my teammate got a P5 in a midfield car and I had to retire.”

Wow.

He was blunt.

She scrunched her nose at his comment.He smirked at her reaction,hand going over her shoulder in a friendly matter.”Speaking of drinking — you look like you haven’t been doing any of that” he pointed out,eyebrows raised as he wondered the reason for that.

“I don’t drink that much”

“It’s painfully obvious you don’t.” he snarkily commented.The girl raised her eyebrow on him,he was sassier than she expected him to be.She huffed,unsure of what to do with the man next to her.The two had interacted a couple of times through random run ins into each other at the paddock.Shy smiles had been sent to each other…he thought she was Alex’s PR Manager.

“I’m Lando by the way,even if you already knew that.”

“I know — Y/N..” she hummed nonchalantly,the boy raising an eyebrow at her response.She didn’t have any intent of coming off as cold ; she just did not know how to make herself comfortable among them.She was the outcast in her previous years of competing due to her gender — it was unusual to feel welcomed now.

She wondered in the back of her mind,did he have malicious intent or was he just nice?

Y/N was more acquainted with his teammate — Oscar,racing against each other in Formula 2.It was good for Oscar that he got a seat in a prestigious team ; she was unfortunately stuck in the bottom.Speaking of Oscar,she scanned the club to find him nowhere…weird.

“I think I’m ready to call it a night to be honest.” she confessed looking up at him.He laughed whole heartedly at her bluntness.Shaking his head,he patted her back.”By the way,you did good out there.Overtook me like it was a piece of cake” he compliments her as the party goes on.Music began blaring even louder now — bodies dancing like there was no tomorrow.

“I can’t hear you” she said loudly so he could get the message.She did hear what he wanted to say ; she just wanted to hear him say it again.He simply nodded at her,his hand moving itself to intertwine itself with hers.Feet beginning to move,he manoeuvred her out of the club.The ear damaging music slowly died down,the two standing at the entrance.

It was a quite night…contrary to the club.Her eyes scanned the man who had just dragged her out.His brown curls,the white shirt that he adorned along with ripped jeans.Her eyes had then averted to the city lights ; shining in their upmost glory.Lighting up the way for them.

“What were you saying just now?” she asked curiously,eager to hear him now that they were away from the crowd.Lando scratched his neck,his hand that was intertwined with hers untangling itself.

“You…you did a good job in the race.” he hummed softly.She perked an eyebrow as a small grin formed itself on her face,her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Don’t worry — I actually heard you the first time.” she snapped back,biting her lip to hold back another chuckle.His eyes were admiring the view in front of them.Bahrain never failed to amaze him.

“Just remember,I won’t let you by that easily next time.” he promised himself,hands sliding its way into his pockets as he stared at her.

“I’d want nothing but your best,Norris.”

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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

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TYSM FOR THE LADY GAGA FIC!!!!

I have another song fic request...

Alastor (or anyone else really lmao) has to find reader in order to patch up like a deal or smth idk and he finds them in this jazz club thing performing on the stage to 'Noel's lament' from 'ride the cyclone'? Like she's draped across a piano singing abt when she was living she was nobody but in her dreams she was this absolute femme fatale and alastor just watches her from the back of the crowd??

So niche but I was thinking abt it all night

Lots of love 🤍

i actually loveeee this song eeeee i’m so happy to do this, and i am so glad you liked the last one it means so much to me teehee sorry this took awhile i’ve been busier lately but i hope you enjoyed this, maybe i’ll do a part two but if i do it may be real delayed until i clear my plate lol!

song referenced; noel’s lament

warnings: implied to be succubus reader but their not really to standards of succubus, i don’t believe there are feminine pronouns here but there are certain feminine things (dress wearing, feminine terms like suductresd etc), no psychical descriptions of reader as per usual, minor gore and death, reader is sneaky and slipper, alastor is weird about love as he should king, but he still feels emotion, possible cringe parts idk it’s a songfic and sometimes they can be 50/50. LMK if i missed any!

word count: 2.7K

You had a debt to pay, you had to have known this. Alastors mind reeled as he toyed with the pen in his hand, occasionally scribbling nonsense down as he thought. You were always quite the slippery sinner, never being tied down to one place in the pentagram, but this was just ridiculous. Since he’d been back, and warmed up to the hotel, he’d been searching for you, but no sign. No demon has said a word about you either had he still been in touch with Vox he may have had you found by now.

You weren’t dead, and that’s as much as he knew; he would’ve felt your souls absence if you’d died, the fickle fun of making such contracts. There was little he knew about you personally, he new superficial things but nothing that would give him a clue on where you’d hide, a silly mistake on his part. He knew Mimzy would be were the cash or party was, Husk wherever there was a gamble and Nifty, well, normally she never strayed far anyways. As for other souls they were about the same in simplicity, whether they were murderous or cannibals they always had something keen to them that would lead him to where they were.

Alastor failed that with you, unfortunately he’d found himself a little at loss with you, in more ways than one you boggled his mind. He was used to women and men alike hitting on him or being incredibly provocative, but there was some way you did it that made him speechless. Not like when Angel would hit on him, where Alastor felt that sensation of being caught off guard with disgust and shock. No, on the night you made the deal, you were stalking around the back of his sofa inside his radio tower, your hands caressing his shoulders as you passed, sweetly and mischievously offering a pleasurable favour in return for his help. That was something else, that was unique to you.

He still recalls the memory as if he was still right there on the couch, engulfed in your scent, entranced by your siren-like voice, it made him hot under the collar and tight around the waist. Thankfully Alastor was a gentleman and a businessman and there was no way you were getting out of a soul contract through some silly sexual favours. It was definitely trying to keep his composure as your lidded eyes watched his lips move, but he managed as he always does. The deal was fairly boring on your part- you wanted to be his friend.

Red flags appeared in Alastors mind about the validity of that but shook on it nonetheless, however that was all before he disappeared. He’d not held up his end of the bargain but then again neither did you; you didn’t show when he called on you to the hotel and try as he may, couldn’t seem to summon you the way he could with Husk.

Dropping the pen, Alastor stood from his seat and shadowed into the floor, stalking out the window like a snake. Alastor decided a little stroll couldn’t hurt, after all his mind couldn’t rest and perhaps he could happen upon you out in sin city. Alastor enjoyed his time walking, humming and basking in all the horrors that happened around, however he grew bored fairly quickly, and decided to take a detour into Mimzy’s favourite joint.

Alastor walked in like he owned the place and seated himself at the bar waiting for his dear friend. “Mimzy dear, how’ve you been?” Alastor spoke out excitedly and loudly, catching the attention of his fellow demon who had appeared from the back of the bar. Mimzy squeaked and ran up to Alastor on the other side of the bar, shooing off the other demons trying to pull at her, the trim of her dress flying in all directions as she hopped and scuttled. “Alastor! What brings ya here, big man? Coming for a dance?” His smile was indifferent as she spoke but he was quite pleased to see the doll, someone of routine. He watched the demon plop herself down on the seat beside him, his hand fiddling with the whisky in his cup that he magicked up. “Yes dear, afraid I have quite the slippery soul in my hands.”

With both elbows on the table Mimzy leaned in, an excited smile on her face. Alastors head fell to the side, sighing at her desire for gossip, Alastor pushed up his monocle and explained the situation with you briefly. He probably went into too many details about how you looked, or smelt, or perhaps how he thought of you in his absence because the whole time Mimzy was coy and giggles. “Wow Al, sounds like you’re carryin’ a torch for this gal’,” Mimzy teased, walking her fingers across the table in his direction. Alastor stiffened at that watching her do her silly tease wide eyed. What a juvenile thing to assume, that he had feelings for some sinner. “Mimzy, don't be ridiculous!” Alastor scoffed grin still present as he threw his limp hand her way, head tossed back. “There’s no such thing! Besides she’s nothing more than some sensuous succubus, it’s what those types of demons do. Seduce.”

Crossing her arms Mimzy let out a flat ‘mhm’ clearly not convinced by what was being said. “Well Al, tell ya what! You have my back next time some nasty loan sharks come, and i’ll tell ya where your pretty seductress is.” Alastors nails tapped against the table rhythmically as he silently pondered, it’s not like he’d say no to her, just as she wouldn’t say no to him. Fixing his posture from his more lesuride position, he agreed with a nod, gulping back the last of his liquor.

This club Alastor stepped into was very reminiscent of a wealthy man’s speakeasy, something that was nestled safely in the depth of the pentagram in an unassuming alley, as if it were hiding from something or someone. It was nostalgic for him, in a sickening way, Alastor didn’t enjoy remembering mortal life as it seemed so detached from him and who he is now. His red eyes danced across the room manically, his static following in suit with every glance he gave. Searching for his little succubus. Low amber lighting, that stuffy smell of smoke in the air, the velvet chairs, surrounding chatter and the piano playing smooth jazz; Alastors body subconsciously relaxed into the familiar environment, as much as he hated his mortal life there were such aspects like this he missed.

He dragged himself inside and sat in a red velvet chair, immediately he slumped onto the table, his elbows on the table, his chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with the fire from the candle, bringing it up, around, and high and low. His eyes dragged over to the stage as the piano rifted into a new tune, the lights in the room dimming and brightening toward the stage. Inwardly, Alastors frustrations imploded making his skin hot and his antlers grow in size; all the light to see you with now focused on the stage for a performance he couldn’t care less about.

Standing to his feet, Alastor gripped his microphone like it was his life line. With a strained smile he began towards the door as the music began, and a voice started introducing themselves and talking about their dreams, however he was too busy being frustrated, and scanning the room for you to fully pay attention to the voice. That was until- “A hooker with a heart of black charcoal.” A breathy voice finally sang out, grabbing the attention of Alastor as he neared the exit. Freezing the static sounds of radio station channels sounded out from him, his eyes widening at the sound of you.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he looked over the crowd of seated heads and at the stage where you were walking on. There was a light focused down on you as you slunk out from behind a curtain furthest from the piano. Straightening his back, Alastor slipped into the shadows and behind a pillar near the bar, just to wait for you of course, to come off. “I write poems to burn by fire light, drink champagne and guzzle gin, good girls call me ‘The Town Bicycle’- don't knock it til you’ve tried my life of sin,” Alastor watched enchanted as you dragged your heels across the stage as you sung, making your way over the piano with seductive grace, something Alastor wasn’t used to being so hooked by.

“Oh, Claude, my pimp knows neva mess with me,” Your voice, once serene and beautiful now, was demonic and harsh, capturing the audience's attention. “Last prick did that faded quick to black,” Like a switch your voice returned to its sweetness, your arms outstretched just slightly, fingers twinkling to emphasise the ‘fade’ you sang of. Alastor couldn’t look away from how you manuerved your body, how your voice carried through the room, and how the lights sparkled against your jewellery. You were a sight for sore eyes as you teasingly brought yourself closer to the piano, that regular soft bedroom look in your eyes. “I have no idea where to find him officers,”

Alastors brow quirked at that, as your hands came up to cup your face with false naïveté. “But if you do, please mention that I’d like to have returned that pretty knife, that I stuck, ten. times. in his, back!” You grit out, sweet façade falling once more making Alastors tail wag, unbeknownst to him. There was something about the way you pulled and pushed the narrative in the song that made him antsy, excited even, and the fact that this was something you stated you dreamed to be, meaning whilst alive you dreamt of killing, of being bad, oh that made Alastors blood rush.. You waltzed around as you continued to sing the lyrics to the chores, Alastors eyes watched closely as you slithered your body effortlessly up onto the piano.

It was like you were made for performing, singing, and he had the brief fantasy of you in his studio singing on air, sat on his lap as you sung through his microphone for the folks of hell to hear, but he pulled himself out of it quickly, scolding himself for indulging in silliness. Now your body was draped across the obsidian piano that shone the reflections of the light, you sat on your hips, legs folded behind you, hands over your heart. “He said ‘I think I am in love with you’- I’ve heard that lie a million times before,” Your posture fell slightly as did your tone, it seemed that there was some truth and sombre in the lyrics you sang, and in a way Alastor felt like he could relate to that; after all what even was love?

It made him feel weak to pity you, to attempt to empathise with your pain, but there was barely any time to think about his thoughts because just as he did, you’d recapture his attention entirely. “Oh, tonight I give into the fantasy,” Your head fell back, sorrow in your tone as your hand caressed your shoulder, pulling down the strap of your dress. “Take love when you can, when you’re a whore.” After a silent moment the chorus picked up, as did you, sliding yourself off the piano and dancing around with a smile. Unfortunately Alastors mind lagged behind, something was just too vulnerable in the way you sang about love, and considering it wasn’t something he often thought about, it peaked his curiosity just slightly.

It wasn’t until the end of the performance when you sung about your death that Alastors attention zeroed back in on you, his eyes catching yours as the song fell out, your head turned in his direction. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth fell slightly ajar before you sang out one last word: a ‘hey’ coincidentally directed toward Alastor. After that the lights on stage shut off instantly, and the crowd applause began.

Alastor watched you be dragged off stage by two larger demons through the darkness, your legs flailing as your arms were restrained, at the sight the purpose of him being here returned. Pushing himself off the pillar he was leant against, he brushed himself off and straightened the crimps in his pants, before picking up his microphone and making his way towards where you’d been dragged. It was a cruddy little backstage area, he’s under the assumption the performers here weren’t treated as kindly as the guests. Throwing the door open he was greeted by the sight of you, the two demons who dragged you off, and some other third one.

You sat on an ottoman in the middle of the room, your entire essence changed as you curled into yourself, your head hung low. Humming, Alastor adjusted his monocle. “Am I interrupting something?” Oh how Alastor loved to play dumb, he watched the third demon, seemingly imp, stand straight anger evident and radiating off of him. “Yeah you really fuckin are red, get outta here now.” The imp barked throwing his hands up in a shooing motion. Your eyes met Alastors, begging silently to stay. “I’m afraid i can’t do that you silly lug,” Alastor tutted joyfully stepping into the room throwing his microphone around like it was a toy. His shadows crawled out from beneath his feet, sneaking up the walls and across the ceilings making the three men anxious. “This little canary happens to me mine, soul and all.” His voice shifted to a more demonic one as the hues in the room shifted.

You sat speechless, watching the mysterious deer defend you after seven long years of being on hold with him. You were surprised he came at such a time, convenient for you. The two muscle demons were quick to puff their chests and step toward Alastor, but before they could properly swing, tentacles emerged from the shadows gripping the torso and hips of the men and pulling them in two. The screams were horrific, and the sounds of squelch and ripping nearly made you yourself sick, however it did the job for the littler imp as he immediately caved. “Oh okay okay, alright buddy, take the siren, no problem take em! Go!” The imp stressed while pulling you from your seat and toward Alastor hurriedly.

You stumbled against his pushing and found yourself falling accidentally into Alastors arms, tripping over your own heel. Alastor caught you without even looking down, arms wrapping instinctively around you as he glared at the imp with a smile. “Oh good, I would have hated to have caused a scene! Ha ha.” Alastor laughed humorously, although he was the only one finding any joy from this as the imp cowered away from the two of you. Pulling you closer to his body, Alastor fell into the ground with you, your body feeling freezing and damp for a moment before normalcy returned.

You didn’t realise you had your hands over your eyes until you felt Alastors hands grip your wrists, and pull your hands away. You blinked up at him before glancing around the room, it was indeed a room, one you’d never seen. “We're at the Hazbin Hotel dear, time for you to see to your deal.” Alastor said calmly, his tone even and his voice soft, his even his static was at a minimum. “Of course,” You say clearing your throat and backing up from his grasp. He didn’t fight against your distance, letting his arms fall and wrap behind his back as they normally would. “Why did you help me back there? I mean you could’ve just poofed us away?” You ask, rubbing the places on your arms where the demons dragged you.

“Why, thats what friends are for my dear! That was our deal, no? To scare off the threats and protect each other?” Alastor coyly hummed, bending slightly at the waist. Looking down slightly you nodded, hands coming up to sit on your waist. Sighing you shook your head, you should’ve known that this would come back to bite you in the ass eventually. “Alright slick, what is it that i’m doing for you?”

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wolfjackle-creates · 4 months

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Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

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After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #jazz fenton #jason todd #eventual anger management ship #emotions are running high #and jazz is Stressed™️#but they can finally talk #and be safe about it

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loonasketches · 5 months

Text

NEW DCA SONA :00

Meet Celeste! (She/They)

Sgshskskal I’ve been working hard to complete this design and god I absolutely love her!!!

You can read more info abt her below :3

Her nicknames are Cel for short and Nova as a preferred nickname (often given by close friends and kiddos). She’s the same height as the attendants, 7 ft tall.

Essentially made to be a self-care programmed and behavioral management robot for both kids and animatronics alike! Due to her design she’s mainly assigned to the daycare but she also does mazercize with Glamrock Chica and VIP shows on the main stage with the band!

Her personality is a little different from how Fazbear Entertainment advertises her though. They perceive her as graceful and radiant, elegant and motherly. Which is really only part of her character. In reality she’s naive and pretty sporadic. Looking for fun and mischief while being pretty impatient and reckless at times. They love playing games (including video games if she manages to get her hands on a game console), watching movies, napping and crafting.

Much like the daycare attendant she enjoys crafting and theatrics, however they prefer having fun more than following a script. As much as she enjoys spending time with the glamrocks she finds performing with them to be more of a drag than anything due to how serious most of the main cast takes it, mostly because of company standards. Trying so hard to meet expectations rather than enjoying their time during shows.

So they more enjoy spending their time in the Daycare with Sun and Moon, although the two don’t react well to her arrival at first. Sun takes her being assigned to them as the company believing him to not be adequate enough to do his job. He believes to not to need any sort of help and that he does his job better than most of the humans and animatronics alike in the pizzaplex. So he comes off quite impatient and passive aggressive to Celeste at first.

Moon is a similar case but he more sees Celeste as a fancy new replacement for him than an additional aid. Seeing as how their purposes are similar, Moon making sure kids get proper sleep and Celeste making sure kids follow all proper self care in general. He comes off more aggressive than Sun, first meetings not going so well.

The main root of these three’s relationship is essentially all three struggling to accept help from from one another yet they each want each other to take care of themselves, more or less. Celeste being stubborn and often reckless in their pursuits, and pretty impatient when things go sour.

They all get along eventually-

Anyway that’s the end of my ramble- hope you guys like them!! <333

Here’s some transparent versions too-

#fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf dca #dca sona #fnaf dca oc #dca fandom #ocs!!#Celeste #fnaf Celeste #fnaf moon #moondrop #fnaf sun #sundrop #fnaf security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #art #digital art #loonasketches art

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yuri-is-online · 8 days

Note

New scenario in the car: I don't know if you youngster's remember a tv show Recess, but there's one episode where everyone is curious about kissing and stuff and decide to do an experiment and TJ and Spinelli draw the short straws to kiss and report back. When they do kiss, there's this scene of like, fireworks and rainbows going off in their heads (This one)

And just picturing Ace and Yuu playing Spin the Bottle or Truth or Dare (or whatever the kids are playing these days) and having to kiss, mentally it's like this but Seven forbid they let anyone know they enjoyed it, especially Ace/Yuu, so they make a big performance of gagging and going "ew gross" once the kiss is over. Smash vut the them alone in bed flustered screaming into a very tired Grimm/Staring at their ceiling paralysed with committing the feel Yuu's lips to memory.

Or something, hope you're keeping well x

The only thing I really know about this show is that my mom didn't allow me to watch it. I'm oldish myself just. Homeschooled :/

Truth or dare makes the most sense to me. And for some reason I see Epel as being the one who would put up the dare.

"C'mon." He's smirking because he can't really help it, he does find this situation hilarious. "What are ya, chicken?"

And sure, you and Ace try to act like it's a gross idea and make your standard embarrassed protests but Jack is the only one really siding with you because he's a stick in the mud but of course Ace has to call him that out loud. So you know what never mind, Ace have fun kissing the prefect he's doubling Epel's dare and now Epel is clucking a surprisingly accurate chicken call with Deuce as Sebek turns this around on you because. idk you made a joke about "kissing the homies goodnight" to Malleus once and he asked if that meant he should give Sebek a kiss on the forehead and he's never forgave or forgotten.

Anyway Ace tries to play off the nerves because don't worry he's had a girlfriend before. He knows how to kiss somebody alright? Doesn't matter if you've dated before or not, whatever you have to say on the subject is going to fluster him because well. However you feel about this he's wanted to kiss you for a while, and unlike anything he shared with his girlfriend kissing you... he doesn't know how you feel but he can fool himself into thinking there's love in it. It's hard for him to lie when he's pressed so close to the truth. So you both pull away and make big fools of yourselves, but the act is bought because your friends are admittedly sort of dumb.

All of your friends except Grim who has to see you stare at a wall between treating him like a plush toy and screaming about how you are so fucking stupid for not putting an end to that dare while you still could because you wanted your first kiss with Ace to be REAL-

(he doesn't sleep at all that night or really talk to Deuce the next morning. he's got a stupid text message three words long he's typed out and deleted so many times but he really wishes he had the guts to hit send this time because- he wants a do over. he didn't get to kiss you right the first time.)

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #aceyuu #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola x yuu

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yenqa · 1 year

Text

SHE PLAYS BASS!

synopsis : prince sunghoon had a boring life. never had he ever gone out with his friends or fallen in love like a normal teenager (not like he liked the idea of falling in love). instead, he was forced to prepare for when he would be crowned king. but when your band, le sserafim is invited to play at the royal palace. his perspective on love would change all because of you.

featuring : le sserafim, hyung line of enhypen and a mention of jungwon

warnings : swearing, angst, parents w broken relationships, crying, kissing, reader wears makeup for performance, sunghoon is REALLY bad at conversations, will update as writing!

wc : 8.4k (woww!)

pairing : prince!sunghoon x afab!reader

a/n : it’s out!! sorry for the wait everyone and its a little weird but i hope you enjoy! thank u sm to @redm4ri for reading over it and making sure everything is good 🫶 also if you find anything we both missed… suck it up and ignore it

taglist : @chaechae-23 @ssjxmh @favorjtecrime @ineedsomezzz @aki1e @chaewon-slays @blu3ming-hoon @sd211 @foxsunoo @yunjinluvrr @homelycat @222brainrot @shinrjj @harufluff @viyqe @yoonsaves @sweetjaemss @jiawji

perm taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni

01 NO CELESTIAL WAS ALWAYS YOUR FAVORITE SONG TO PERFORM.

you enjoyed playing the guitar riffs and singing until your lungs went out. you enjoyed the small portion of choreography you had and the energy it brought to the crowd. but as much as you enjoyed the melody itself, you enjoyed the lyrics even more.

to you, no celestial was about breaking the standards and just being yourself (ex. lyrics “angel-like perfection, bye” in first verse). but the song also meant that you can’t be perfect, and to not be afraid when someone realizes that. no celestial gave you a sense of freedom, like nothing else mattered but the sounds of your voices. and you would do anything to have that freedom.

well, it was the kind of freedom you already had until the attention’s eye was on you. now, you couldn’t even meet up with an old friend before someone turned it into a dating rumor. it was hard to ignore those rumors and continue on, but that was what you had to do to make it far.

and, you weren’t sure if it was worth it until now. staring in shock as you open the intricate blue envelope decorated with gold lining. on the back, is text stating “The Royal Palace”. Yunjin squeals in excitement as you carefully pull out the paper, reading the contents hidden inside.

Dear, Source Music

It has come to our attention that your band, Le Sserafim has been spiking in popularity in our kingdom. As the Prince’s birthday is coming soon, we would like to formally invite Le Sserafim to perform at the Royal Palace on December 8th to entertain our guests. Please arrive at 3:30 pm or before as you’ll be performing at 4:15. All food and drinks will be provided for you, outfits will also be provided and we’ll have to schedule an appointment to get some measurements. Please tell us what kind of concept to go for, and we’ll do our best to achieve that. We trust that the band will perform well as always. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Yang Jungwon

you look at your members in disbelief as they do the same before kazuha breaks the silence.

“we’re going to perform at the royal palace!” she excitedly squeals, as the room explodes into excited laughter, deciding what songs will be performed.

“well we have to perform fearless! it’s our hit song,” yunjin begs, trying to get nods of approval from the group's leader.

chaewon sighs, looking back at yunjin, “we’ll have to see how many songs we can perform and if they want us to perform any particular ones. we can ask our boss at our next meeting. he’ll probably have all the details we need,” she smiles warmly at her members, stretching out her arms and engulfing them in a warm hug.

“wait- when’s our next meeting?”

🎸

no celestial was not on the setlist. nor did your boss even think about performing it.

as the stubborn girl you are, you immediately asked why no celestial wasn’t on the list, and your boss laughs at you. stating that the palace didn’t choose the song and it wasn’t the right place for it. you thought that the song would be able to be performed anywhere (except, maybe a funeral but that’s not the point) but it apparently went against palace rules. it was stupid to you, isn’t that what the song’s telling you not to do? follow the rules?

you were surprised the great mermaid was picked, considering the amount of ‘foul language’ in the song. but since the prince was turning 21 (or 20 you couldn’t remember) you were sure a swear word wouldn’t hurt him.

it wasn’t until late at night when it hit you, you were performing for the prince in a month.

02 SUNGHOON WAS NOT EXCITED ABOUT HIS BIRTHDAY

all the decorations, outfits, and people were too much for him.

yes, he loved having the party, but having every single person he’s had any interaction with invited? just seemed over the top. he wished only his closest friends to come, but every year his parents would try so hard to marry him off to some random girl his age, which always ruined his mood (and his plan to have a small birthday party). sunghoon knew this year wouldn’t be different, so he didn’t look forward to it, simple as that.

when his parents revealed they were inviting a band to perform on his birthday. his lips had slightly upturned. would it be tomorrow by together? or seventeen? maybe even red velvet? his face immediately dropped when he heard the name. who the hell was le sserafim?

after he was dismissed sunghoon immediately looked up the band that was recently introduced to him, playing the first few songs that popped up.

out of the seven songs he listened to, he liked the song “sour grapes” the most. sunghoon didn’t look much into the lyrics of songs, as a song was just a melody he sang along to. but the rare times sunghoon did (which was when he was listening to sour grapes), he didn’t understand most of the lines. what did they mean by love is sour grapes? because to him, he didn’t think love resembled any kind of fruit.

well, what did love resemble to him? sunghoon didn’t know. after seeing his parents grow apart over the years, sunghoon wasn’t one to ask about the subject. and nor did he ever want to be.

the small number of lyrics he understood, made it even more obvious why love wasn’t that appealing to him. it would always end in heartbreak, which is why he vowed to himself to never fall in love. but deep down, he knew it was something he could never admit.

he was scared.

03 BREAKS WERE YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT PRACTICE

after practicing for three hours straight, chaewon decided for an hour's break. of course, no one disagreed which left you immediately leaving the building and deciding to walk around the kingdom.

the town was always a safe place for you to walk around since the palace is near your building and heavily guarded. after getting drinks for yourself and your members, you decided to head back to the practice building.

as you walked around you always stopped to watch some young kids playing outside, enjoying the laughter and happiness they brought to voice. you smile at their enjoyment, amused at the stupid games they make up.

you try to push your body away, as your head wants to keep watching. until you bump into someone, making you drop the drinks you had previously bought for your members.

“oh my god i’m so sorry! did it spill on you?” you frantically ask, crouching on the floor to pick up the wet cups on the ground.

you stand up to see a man around your age, his fluffy brown hair slightly covering his eyes and clothes too formal for a walk around the town. his face seems too familiar, almost like you’ve seen him before.

“it’s fine, sorry about your drinks, can i get you new ones?” he offers, a slight rasp evident in his voice.

“oh no, it’s okay! but do i know you? you look really familiar,” you ask curiously.

his state quickly turns to panic, before answering “n-no i don’t think so.” he curses himself for being so nervous.

“oops! sorry then, well my name’s y/n nice to meet you!” you offer him a hand, which he shakes.

“my name’s sunghoon nice to meet you too.” shit did i just say sunghoon? he realizes, horrified at his clumsiness.

“oh like prince sunghoon?” you mention, flashing him a bright smile.

“yeah haha…” he awkwardly replies, helping you throw away the dripping drinks in your hand. “are you sure? i’m sorry i feel really bad,” he rambles, looking at you with concern.

you swiftly pull out your phone to check the time, realizing you wouldn’t make it back in time if you went back to get drinks. you smile at him, showing him the time on your phone, “i have to be back soon! but maybe if we ever meet again you can pay me back,” you smile, and he smiles back before you run off, waving to him.

fimmies chat

you

lawl i just met the cutest guy !!

sakura

are u forgetting ure semi famous…

eunchae

did u rizz him up

yunjin

do u think y/n rizzed him up

be honest

you

no i didnt forget!! and i did rizz him up so good

yunjin dye.

anyways i didn’t get his number </3

kazuha

did u get his number

chaewon

youre so lucky he didnt recognize u

but come back soon breaks almost over

you

im omw

04 HIS BIRTHDAY CAME SOONER THAN YOU REALIZED

you were too nervous about playing for the palace, you played your bass thousands of times in front of a crowd, you think, doing whatever to calm yourself. you had known all the chords by heart (including no celestial which your band decided to sneak in), you had warmed up your voice, and you had memorized and practiced the dance for hours and hours. you were going to do fine.

when you guys stepped onto the stage all that was heard were claps and a couple of cheers, you quickly made eye contact with the queen giving her a small head nod. you step in a line to bow and introduce yourselves, before getting to your instrument.

the first song you were performing was “the great mermaid”, sakura tapped her drumsticks three times, signaling for you to start the song. your hands instinctively moved to the right chords, strumming accordingly. as each chord passed, more was to be played. your hands shakily played each one, trying to sing your parts as stable as you could.

you felt a sigh of relief when the song ended, you placed your guitar on your hips, resting your hands while listening to the audience's boring claps. no shouts or cheers, just repeating claps, prim and proper. as chaewon introduces your next song you scan the audience, locking eyes with the young man on the throne, wait-

was that sunghoon?

your eyes widen as you hurry to your position in the dance, waiting for the music to start.

was sunghoon the prince? why didn’t he have a disguise? or some kind of security? did i seriously meet the prince on accident and didn’t notice?

you quickly came back to life, focusing on the dance you were currently doing.

your hips had to be on point, your legs had to be fully extended and in place, your arms had to be in the exact place, and your facial expression had to be on point. you hoped your expression looked how you imagined it.

you glanced at your manager noticing his approving, almost proud smile. you almost smile in response, containing it in quickly moving into formation.

the next few songs were a blur until you got to no celestial.

you nervously spoke into your microphone, introducing the song.

“for our last song we are performing a song called “no celestial”! this song is similar to our first one “the great mermaid” so if you enjoyed that song, you might like this one.” you wink at the audience, as you notice the manager giving you a look of disbelief.

you ignore it. adjusting your bass, starting up the next song. once you got to the pre-chorus you could feel your manager's glare burning in your scalp, you glance at sakura, exchanging nervous glances as yunjin sings her heart out, without a care in the world. by the time the song ends, you’re exhausted, and your legs and arms feel overworked,

you say your goodbyes and bow to the crowd as you walk off into the dressing room, where your manager waits with a menacing stare.

“hi sir…” you hesitantly start, he raises his left eyebrow at you.

“who came up with the idea of playing no celestial? the queen was giving me dirty looks! you’re lucky i’m not getting thrown in jail tomorrow. did you come up with the idea of playing no celestial for the palace y/n?” he yells, fuming with anger.

you look down at your feet, as your members watch, unable to prevent anything.

“yes i did.” you quietly answer.

“what’d you say? god you need to speak louder y/n,” he bluntly scolds.

“i said, yes i did,” you speak menacingly, he looks taken aback, almost surprised.

“this is your last warning y/n, one more and you’re out of the band, okay? i’m sick and tired of you taking your position for granted.”

“yes sir.” you bitterly answer, your body twitching trying to hold in your tears.

“now go! i can’t look at you right now,” he sighs.

you take your chance to quickly walk out of the dressing room, avoiding any servants walking around (and your members if they followed you). you slowly push open a door and find yourself on a path, surrounded by flowers and bushes tailored by the most perfectionist workers. each step there seem to be more and more plants unknown to you. you stop to look at a certain flower, reading the name on the index.

“the alstroemeria caught your eye?”

you jump at the sound, turning around to see (prince) sunghoon, walking next to you with a grin. you quickly bow, wiping your tears “oh! i’m so sorry for being here, i don’t know if i’m allowed here, so i’ll go!” you ramble, his smirk growing at the sight of you.

“it’s okay, y/n right? you did really well today,” he looks you up and down, slightly biting his lip.

“thank you, sir! happy birthday to you too.”

“no need for formal names, sunghoon is fine.”

your eyebrows furrow at his words, tilting your head slightly, “are you sure? it’s really no bother.”

he smirks at your comment, “you seemed fine with it two weeks ago,”

your eyes widen as his grin switches to a sly smirk, “i just didn’t recognize you,” you argue. “you don’t recognize the prince?” he raises one eyebrow. you huff at his response, opting to change the subject instead.

“shall we walk?” you ask, referring to the path you were earlier following. he nods as he starts leading the way through the abnormally large garden, making sure you stay away from any ditches or rocks.

“so, how was our performance? what was your favorite song?” you ask. he doesn’t think for long before deciding.

“sour grapes.”

“no reason why?” you give him a grumpy look which he notices, so he continues. “i like the melody, and lyrics.” he bluntly states, looking back at you for approval. “did you like the last song? no celestial?” you ask, silently praying he did.

“it was good, but i prefer slower songs.”

you nod accordingly, noticing how the loud ballroom music fills your silence, quite different from the songs you had performed. you walk to an empty field, which sunghoon explains that it’s empty because his parents gave up on the garden, deciding to do something better with their time and money. you frown at his story, why give up halfway in?

your legs grow tired, so you ultimately declare a break, in the middle of the field. sunghoon agrees, teasing you for your tired state.

when you sit down comfortable silence overtakes you two. you both calmly listen to the classical music, still clearly heard from the castle. after a few minutes, sunghoon light’s up with an idea, quickly standing up and offering his hand to you.

you, confused, look up at him. “what? are you trying to shake my hand?”

he laughs, “no, but would you, lady y/n have a dance with me?”

you grow flustered by the idea. you’re about to take his hand, before realizing you aren’t sure how to ballroom dance. you shyly mutter, “i don’t know how to properly do it”. he chuckles softly, taking hold of your hand, and pulling you up.

“i’ll teach you.”

sunghoon wasn’t sure why he was feeling so tense when he’d started teaching you. he’d be crazy to think that he wasn’t flustered by the way your hand was on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his, or the fact that you broke out into a smile every time you’d accidentally step on his foot or miss the spin. you were just pretty, he told himself, praying his hands didn’t feel clammy.

his hands were soft, and smooth contrasting with your calloused, and rough hands. but he didn’t seem to mind by the way he was smiling.

soon, your bodies blend together, like the sun and moon, forming an eclipse. taking each step in sync with the other. you can’t find your eyes anywhere else but locked on his. he smiles at you, and you smile back. you two dance until your feet get sore again after several songs. too tired to sit, you lay back on the slightly wet grass, staining the back of your stage outfit. sunghoon grins, laying down next to you, admiring the stars with you.

“sunghoon, do you know any constellations?” you ask, trying to make a familiar shape out of any of them.

sunghoon extends his hand out, scooting closer so you can see. he points to a particularly bright star, then another, and another he repeats that until he puts his hand down.

“that’s the ursa major, you’ve heard of it correct?” he looks over to you.

you chuckle, “of course, i know what the ursa major is. it’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

sunghoon stares at you, your bright smile facing the sky, your happy eyes almost in disbelief you're seeing such a beautiful sight, your makeup for the performance now slightly smudged but still gorgeous on you.

sunghoon thinks you’re the most beautiful star.

his eyes don’t move away from you before responding “yeah it is.”

he diverts his eyes when he sees you looking back at him, “the ursa major is used for navigating, because it completes a full circle around the north star.”

you nod, taking in the bright stars, shining straight at you.

sunghoon notices your silence, deciding to start a new conversation.

“what’s your perspective on love?”

sunghoon quickly realizes his mistake when you choke on your saliva, clearly not expecting him to ask you that question as you sit up. his face turns pale, hurriedly patting your back. “sorry, was that too far?” he asks.

you chuckle at his reaction, your laugh filling up his silence. “no,i just wasn’t expecting it. but i’ll give you an answer.” sunghoon gives you a nod, silently telling you to keep going.

“i think my opinion changes, like when i wrote sour grapes, obviously i didn’t like it. but now i think it’s quite the opposite,” you answer, sunghoon carefully thinks about your words, nodding approvingly.

“what about you sunghoon? what do you think about love?”

he stays silent for a while before answering, “i don’t believe in true love, i think it’s made up,” he states bluntly.

you slightly tilt your head, “and why do you think that?”

“well because my parents they’re-”

you’re caught off guard when the sounds of panicked yelling come to voice. “prince sunghoon? prince sunghoon!” people frantically call, you can see the silhouettes of people running around, trying to spot their beloved prince. you look over to see a just as panicked sunghoon. he quickly stands up, pulling you up too. his expression turns almost disappointed before saying,

“i have to go. it was nice talking to you y/n, i hope we meet again.” he gives you a small smile. taking your hand, and placing a soft kiss on it. he looks into your eyes after, then runs to the voices. leaving you a flustered mess.

walking back to the dressing room happily excited to tell your members about the interaction you just had, you realize why you had even been out in the garden. because you were upset, but sunghoon distracted you from that.

you smile to yourself, sunghoon was quite the distractor.

05 MEETINGS WITH SUNGHOON BECAME ORDINARY

you often found him around the place you first met, waiting in the only pink chair at the cafe. every time the bell above the door rang, his head shot up looking for your familiar face. every time it was you, his eyes crinkled, which you guessed was a smile considering his face was hidden behind a mask. you would always wave to him, setting down your stuff before ordering a drink. this became a routine for you two, you would arrive at two ten and leave at two fifty, to get back to practice on time.

after practice you (and sometimes with eunchae) would always walk to a specific bench near the river, admiring the dark city with the quiet noises of running water. arriving at eight twenty-ish every time, you would place your purse down right in the middle of the bench, so no one would sit next to you.

that may seem selfish, but it was for your safety as an idol. the park was almost always empty, with the exception of people there for the same reason as you, to admire the scenery.

you were almost dumbfounded when you noticed someone sitting at your bench, the body covered by their hood twitching every so often.

your steps slowed down, unsure of what to do. until you heard small sniffles from the body, with broken cries and sounds of snot. you weren’t the most social person you’ve met, so you don’t know why your body led you down to sit next to them, asking them “are you okay?”

the person doesn’t spare a glance at you, staring directly at their shoes instead. you study their face, realizing the person was someone you knew.

“sunghoon? what’s wrong?” you blurt out, his head whips towards yours, his panicked expression clearly gone when he looks at you with soft eyes.

he quickly remembers his state, wiping his tears as quickly as he can. “nothing,” he mumbles, knowing you’ll recognize his blatant lie.

you hesitantly place your hand on his back, softly rubbing it. he lays into you, sobs coming out of his body like a river, coming downstream. your throat tightens hearing the cries that fill the park, disturbing the few that passed by every so often.

noticing his hiccups become less and less apparent. you hesitantly ask, “do you want to talk about it?”

he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he chokes out, “it’s just the pressure i have on my shoulders, being the next king and all. i have no one to rely on or even ask for help. my parents are too busy fucking arguing to even give me the time of day, and it’s just so stupid they put all the kingdom’s problems on me because it’s training. when in reality it’s just them being ignorant and immature.”

you nod slightly, pulling him in a soft hug as if he’ll break if you hold any tighter. you wince at the feeling of his damp tears on your sleeve, reminding yourself that there was a more important matter.

you two hold each other in comfortable silence until sunghoon sits up and wipes his tears away. you look at him with worry to which he says, “i don’t really want to talk about it anymore if that’s ok,” he looks at you with uneasy eyes.

you give him a warm smile, “that’s fine sunghoon, do you want to talk about anything?”

“no, i don’t really have anything in mind,” he answers.

you nod trying to fill the void of silence somehow. spotting a moving figure near the waterline, you point to it, “hey there are some ducks!”

sunghoon follows your finger to find the animal you were pointing at. eyes crinkling at the sight. you watch his amused face, not realizing the smile growing on your face.

“didn’t know you were such an animal person,” you chuckle, as sunghoon rolls his eyes.

“it’s not like i see them much, ya-know being trapped in the castle and all that,” he remarks. you throw your hands up in defense, “sorry, forgot about your prince duties for a second.”

“yeah whatever,” sunghoon jokes, turning to gaze at the stars, just like at the castle.

you take this time to look at his face, looking hopefully into the sky. like he was hoping a shooting star would come. you let out a breathy smile, to which he hears turning to look at you, making eye contact.

realizing he caught your stare, you look away, your cold cheeks now growing in temperature.

sunghoon chuckles at your reaction, not realizing his reddening cheeks either. he pulls up his sleeve, glancing at his watch. you lean over, looking for the time stating 9:02.

you gasp loudly, making sunghoon whip his head up, looking at you with confusion. “what happened?” he asks.

“i have to be back by 9:15, curfew and all. i’ll see you soon, okay?” he nods, a smile present as he’s waving goodbye, watching as you take off running to get back on time.

sunghoon can’t seem to get rid of his smile after you leave, touching his upturned lips softly. he isn’t sure why his smile’s still lingering even after you left. he doesn’t smile for a while after jay or jake leaves him.

despite the chilling weather that most definitely left him shivering, he can’t get rid of the warm, fuzzy feeling inside of him. maybe he was sick, or maybe he was just prepared for the cold weather. but he knew there was a different reason. one that he wasn’t ready to admit.

06 YOU HAPPILY JOGGED BACK TO THE BUILDING

imagining your member's reactions when you tell them you had met up with sunghoon once again. you push open your dorm room at 9:12, barely making it back without getting a scolding from chaewon.

entering your shared room with eunchae, you take off your jacket, zipping it up to place it on a hanger.

“y/n! you went to the park without me!” eunchae whines from her bed, stretching out to cover it.

you laugh at her position, mentioning nonchalantly, “sorry eunchae! i saw sunghoon there though.

she dramatically gasps causing all the other members to rush in with looks of worry. “what happened?” chaewon asks, standing in the doorway.

“y/n met up with sunghoon at the park!” she exclaims. yunjin reacts first, running up to you dramatically, shaking you by your shoulders. the members exaggeratedly gasp at you, kazuha even pretends to faint.

you roll your eyes, pretending to busy yourself on your phone.

“y/n you have to tell us what happened!” chaewon hurriedly sits down on the edge of the bed, to which everyone else follows.

“nothing really happened,” you giggle, unable to stop the redness from spreading from your cheeks.

sakura pushes you softly, “oh boo, i know something happened, just tell us what!”

deciding to not mention the crying part, you mention everything else.

watching the member's reactions could honestly entertain you for days. whether it was a simple touch or action you two did together, they always had an exaggerated reaction towards it. when you mentioned how he had caught you staring at him, yunjin had dramatically fallen off the bed. hitting the carpet floor with her hand clutched repeatedly.

after you finished the story, they left as giggly as you came in. you quickly get ready to go to sleep, not wanting the exhaustion to get to you before you brush your teeth.

laying on your bed, you weren’t sure why they were so dramatic over some interactions you had with sunghoon. i mean, you were just a boy and a girl hanging out.

nothing weird about that.

okay sure, he did have really nice hair, pretty eyes, and a really gorgeous smile. and he was so sweet and funny but also comforting, and you like being around him and always wanted to be around him. but what does that have to do with-

oh.

no, it couldn’t be it, you weren’t that far in deep right?

was love what you were feeling? love for the man you had randomly met in the kingdom? love for the man you had barely met but had spent hours talking to?

yeah, maybe you did love him.

and maybe, you wanted to plant his soft lips onto yours the next time you saw him.

but he was too good for you.

like the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky, loving the dimmest, and unpleasant.

it would never work.

you sigh, pulling over the blanket over your cold body. peacefully closing your eyes.

07 CONFIDING IN SAKURA WAS ONE OF THE WORST IDEAS YOU HAD

you would think the oldest person had the best advice, but truly she was set on you doing one thing.

“confess to him!” sakura exclaims as soon as she hears the news. rolling your eyes at her idea, she lightly frowns.

“what? can’t you just tell him? i don’t get it.” she huffs, slightly lifting the hair on her face. you furrow your brows, “and risk him not liking me back?”

“okay so what if he does like you back?”

that simple question leaves you speechless, it’s not a crazy question, but as stupid as you sound, you didn’t think that would happen. nor was that a chance you would want to take.

“i don’t think he does, i mean we just met recently! he barely even knows me.” you’re shortly given a questioning look, followed by “don’t you meet like, every day?”

you sigh in defeat, “okay yeah we do, but that’s not the point! the point is that he doesn’t like me back.”

“look, he might not like you back, so why don’t you get it over with? the worst he can say is no.” her shoulders lift for a second, continuing back to focus on her phone.

“okay, no is definitely not the worst thing he could say. he could say like, “ew no you peasant! get away from me you dirty scab.” sakura dramatically sighs.

“are we talking about the same guy? the same guy who spent hours talking to you outside his own party?” you huff.

“yeah, but it’s still a possibility! you never know how royals are,” you argue. she quickly bites back, saying.

“exactly!” her eyes widened, “you don’t know how royals are, so you never know if he likes you back! which i’m sure he does.”

“okay so i confess to him, and he says no. what if our relationship changes and we can’t fix it because i made things so awkward? what would i do then?” you cry, she furrows her brows.

“you never know until you try.” she finishes, finally laying back down to go to sleep.

“fine.” you grumble, tiredly walking back to your room.

maybe you could confess to him.

you quickly throw yourself onto the bed. landing with an ‘oof’ sound on your stomach. brainstorming ideas or even just imagining scenarios. you hadn’t realized until two minutes of thinking was that everything you thought of was probably a normal occurrence for him.

picnics? you were sure he had done it many times. a restaurant? his chefs probably cook better and you’re both famous. movie date? even you didn’t want to do that idea.

giving your mind a rest, you rolled around on your bed. kicking the blanket off your sweaty feet, you grabbed your phone. opening safari.

i mean, it can’t hurt to look right? you quickly typed up the words, embarrassed at the dilemma you were in right then.

you scrolled through the websites, opening “15 best date ideas for you and your boyfriend.”

sure you weren’t at that stage, but it had to have at least one good idea.

scrolling through the options you stopped on one, thinking of what could happen then. painting together, that seems like it could be fun?

you quickly prepare yourself for the text you're about to send, staring at it for a while before actually sending it.

you

sunghoon are you busy this weekend?

sunghoon

not on saturday, but on sunday yeah.

why?

you

do you want to go painting with me 😁😁

sunghoon

sure, where?

you

yk the bench we met at like two days ago

we can meet there at 2pm ??

sunghoon

sure, see you then.

you

see youu

you slam your phone into your mattress, silently screaming to yourself imagining how the date would be. you prayed that sunghoon wasn’t some kind of artist who would laugh at the market's paint you had bought because it was such poor quality to him. sunghoon wouldn’t do that, he’s really sweet. you remember you check your calendar in the living room, writing down the date for saturday.

you scan the calendar, in three days you’ll confess.

08 YOU WEREN’T SURE YOU COULD PAINT WITH SUCH JITTERY HANDS

you had managed to get there at 1:58 seeing sunghoon there already. scanning his outfit, you found the gold details on his navy blue suit to fit him well, it was similar to the letter the palace had sent you but you didn’t want to point that out.

realizing how professional he looked, you quickly feel embarrassed at your outfit. some simple jeans with a crop top and a sweater, and a mask covering your face.

“hello y/n,” he smiles at you, helping you place your stuff down.

“hello sunghoon! here-” you hand a canvas to him, “this is for you, and you know how to paint, right?” you mentally slap yourself, of course, he knew how to paint y/n!

his eyes slightly squint in confusion as he chuckles, “of course, i know how to paint y/n, what do you wanna paint?”

you lock eyes with him, trying your best not to get flustered saying, “i don’t know yet, probably like the river in front of us. what about you?”

he looks around, suddenly smirking at the idea he must’ve had. “i’ll surprise you,”

“whatever,” you playfully roll your eyes, handing him his canvas and palette. his hands brush yours, lingering longer than they should.

you ignore it, carefully dipping the paintbrush into the water, then into a light grayish blue. you gracefully spread the paint around, trying to replicate the water to the best of your abilities. the blue slowly runs out, your paintbrush becomes dryer than your liking. so you delicately press the paintbrush into the water, swirling it around before dipping it back into the same blue color you were using.

while you’re doing that, you glance at sunghoon to see him sketching a person with a pencil. “who’s that?” you ask, he looks at you seeing you stare at his sketch.

his eyebrows furrow, “you can’t tell?”

you scan the canvas again, noticing the outfit looking very similar to yours. you squint slightly, “are you drawing me?”

he grins, “no.”

“what? that literally looks exactly like me!” you argue.

“it’s your mom.”

you sigh, rolling your eyes and turning back to your canvas, he laughs at your reaction. “i hate you so much,” you lie.

“right. you know i can get you thrown into prison right?”

“yeah you could, but you like me too much to do that.” you boldly state.

he gives you a side eye, nodding sarcastically. “whatever you want,” he says, you triumphantly continue painting, finishing the sky before starting on the river and the scenery.

you add more paint to your original color, brightening it before starting your river. making sure you get each detail.

while you’re working on your river sunghoon starts painting the background, realizing he forgot to do that.

you two continue with small talk, conversing about favorite music, events that are coming up, and even events happening recently.

you’re reminded of his birthday party, how he never finished his answer before he got pulled away by the crowd (or whoever was calling for him).

the conversation slowly dies down, sunghoon decides to start a new one before you could.

“how’s it like being an idol? like getting to do whatever you want and still be liked.”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “i don’t really get to do whatever i want, but i probably have more freedom than you do.”

sunghoon sighs, “yeah, sometimes i really hate being a prince, i wish i had more freedom like you.”

“well, i don’t have that much freedom, but i don’t really care. i just do whatever i want and hope i don’t get caught,” you chuckle, sunghoon smiles at you,

“you don’t get scared of the consequences you could get?”

“not really. if anything, i can just debut again.”

sunghoon clearly taken aback by your confidence covers it with a smirk, “are you always this confident?”

“not with you,” you blurt out, not realizing your mistake until you see his face visibly turning red. he quickly turns away, pretending to add finishing touches to the painting with nothing but water on the brush.

now you realize, its time. you quickly build up your confidence, not wanting to stay in this awkward silence any longer.

“look- i don’t know how to say this. but i like you, so much.” you can see sunghoon’s mouth slightly open, eyes widening as well. you continue, “and i know your idea of love isn’t that fond. so i hope we can still be friends after this. but please take my feelings into consideration.” you slightly smile at him.

he’s still in shock when he answers. “y/n, i don’t like you back-”

you blank for the rest of his sentence. realizing now that you should have left those words unsaid. so, so many words that should’ve been left unsaid.

he stops talking, waiting for your reaction. you aren’t sure if you feel like crying or screaming, but one thing you were sure you felt was that you wanted to get out of there.

you nod in disappointment, taking your canvas and paint with an awkward goodbye. you walk away, trying your best to ignore the slight blur in your vision.

09 “SHE WHAT?”

was the first thing jay said when he told them about the date. jake gave sunghoon a look of disbelief, and heeseung laughed at him.

“dude, we know damn well she did not say that.” heeseung smirks, stifling a laugh.

sunghoon eyebrows furrow, “what? she did say that! and i don’t know how to feel! she also isn’t answering my calls so that’s why i invited you over, not to have tea and biscuits.”

jake quietly puts his tea cup down, missing when sunghoon rolls his eyes at him.

“okay so what’s your opinion on her?” jay leans slightly forward, looking at sunghoon with an eyebrow raised.

“well-” sunghoon abruptly stops. how could he put this into words?

for one he always has a smile on around you, whether it’s a smirk or a genuine smile. either work.

two, he thinks you’re pretty, like the moon in an empty sky, or a person seeing a sunset for the first time. but that would surely get him teased, so he keeps quiet on that one.

three, he thinks you’re kind, too kind for your own good. just yesterday when you had bought all the supplies for painting when you both knew he could’ve rented out the whole park for you two, or when he offered to pay for the drinks you got for your members after the time he bumped into you, to which you declined fully knowing his economic status.

yeah, you’re kind.

sunghoon barely manages to get out, “she’s… kind?”

jake scoffs, “just kind? after all the date’s you’ve had with her, you don’t think she's funny or pretty or anything?”

yeah i think a lot of things. he thinks. deciding to also keep that to himself.

“i mean she’s pretty and funny.” sunghoon blankly states, not wanting to overshare.

“c’mon dude! i know you’re thinking some poetic shit but are too scared to say it to us. we won’t judge!” heeseung argues.

jay laughs at heeseung’s last comment, knowing full well it was a lie.

sunghoon rolls his eyes for nth time, realizing he’d have to say something anyways.

“well i think she’s pretty, but like so pretty you can’t describe it.” he thinks for a moment, trying to put it simply, “also her smile,” sunghoon lets out a breathy smile. making his friends all seem disappointed.

“it literally just sounds like you’re in love with her. your girl problems are too easy,” heeseung sighs, taking a bite of the biscuit waiting to be eaten.

“well, i’m not in love with her! i just enjoy her company.”

“i enjoy jake’s company but i don't dreamily sigh about his smile,” jay adds, to which jake winks at him.

jay gives him a disgusted look, turning to focus on sunghoon and his problem.

“okay well i don’t want to be in love with her!” he says, throwing his hands in defeat.

“why? what’s so wrong with liking a girl?” heeseung asks, his voice slightly muffled by the food he was eating.

sunghoon furrows his brows in disgust. “okay, first of all, don’t talk with food in your mouth, and second of all…” he pauses, does he really want to get that personal right now?

the answer is no.

“second of all, i don’t want to fall in love just to be disappointed in the end.”

jake sighs, “man, if you don’t want to fall in love that’s fine, but just think about the good things that could come out of it.”

sunghoon nods, taking in his words. what good things would come out of it? unrequited love? heartbreaks? being married to someone else because you’re a prince?

he didn’t think anything good would come out of it.

so sunghoon decided he didn’t love you romantically. and he never would.

010 YOU WERE STILL IGNORING HIS CALLS

every text left on delivered, every call left unanswered and sunghoon didn’t know what was wrong.

well, yes he did know what was wrong but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. his friends certainly hadn’t helped and he had no one else to ask.

so maybe he had to take matters into his own hands.

his plan was to host a ball then formally invite you to it. you couldn’t decline an invitation personally from the prince could you?

then he would just go with the flow, talk to you and apologize and become friends again. easy, right?

convincing his parents to invite you to the ball was simple. even if his mom was a little uneasy, she was delighted he wanted to personally invite someone to the ball they were hosting.

for once sunghoon left them with a smile on his face.

now all he had to do was wait. he knew it would never happen but everytime he got a notification, his face lit up. frantically checking the message for any sign of the word “y/n”. but he never found one.

all sunghoon did that week was wait for a text back. it hurted his brain honestly, all his worries were constantly flooding it. everytime he tried to focus on whatever his teacher was saying he couldn’t. not when his friendship was at stake.

he wasn’t sure why he was so worried about you, considering you were just friends. but the more he thought about it, the more confused he got.

but when the day finally came, he wasn’t as ready for it as he should’ve been.

yes he mentally prepared himself, and he made sure everything at the ball was perfect. but he forgot the most important part.

planning the apology.

sunghoon wouldn’t say he was the best at apologies. when people say that the words should come from the heart he laughs. it’s not like the heart has a mouth to speak with, he always thinks. but this time, he’s really relying on those words said by others.

but stupid phrases couldn’t help now.

so, sunghoon took a deep breath. and foot by foot, he entered the ballroom.

011 HIS FACE TURNS A WARM PINK WHEN HE SAW YOU

wearing a grayish-blue gown with sparkle lined layers towards the bottom. you had a huge smile on your face, talking to another woman.

he was so busy scanning your features he hadn’t noticed all his friends crowding around him. they all continuously teased him for the love struck look in his eyes. one that i don’t have. he thinks, ignoring the comments they had made.

he notices the look in your eyes, slowly growing less happy as you scan the beautiful lady in front of you. your smile slightly falls, but still evident in your face when she leaves. you look around, locking eyes with him. your smile falls this time, not hiding the slightly dreading facial expressions you had.

sunghoon calls you over, seeing the bright smile on your face return to meet his friends.

you happily greet each of them, each sharing a small fact about themself. you try to listen to each one, even though you’ll most likely forget it in an hour.

finally, you shake sunghoons hand. ignoring the awkward tension between you two.

jake quickly starts a conversation, saying, “y/n! you were the band that played at hoon’s birthday right? what instrument did you play?”

you nod, “yeah i play the bass! i also do some singing but i’m not the lead singer,” you chuckle. jake nods, taking a sip of whatever drink he had.

you look at sunghoon finding his eyes already latched onto yours. you look away quickly ignoring the interaction.

jay senses the tension, finding an excuse to lead his friends away from you two.

sunghoon mentally lets out a sigh of relief, realizing he had to start his apology soon.

“y/n look- can we talk about last week?”

you sigh, nodding.

“i was just thinking about it and i realized how rude i was that day, and that i’m sorry for that,” he braces himself for your reaction, a wash of relief goes over him when he sees your soft smile.

honestly, you don’t even remember what he said, but he must’ve been pretty mean.

“you don’t have to be sorry for rejecting me sunghoon, i get it. let’s just move on. okay hoon?” you tease, to which sunghoon rolls his eyes, barely keeping his smile in.

he doesn’t think anyone else can call him that anymore.

sunghoon makes eye contact with his mother, urging him to join the dance floor ever so near him.

you give a knowing look to him, dragging him to the ballroom floor.

the floor is filled with people, sunghoon leads you through the people, all moving in a unison formation. you finally find an empty spot, stopping there.

he laughs, “you remember how to dance right?”

“of course i do,” you answer, placing your right hand on his shoulder, softly holding his other hand.

he starts moving you two around, twirling you and lifting you up. you two laugh every time a small stunt comes up. but for a majority of the time, you’re just waltzing around, engaging in some small talk.

“you know i’ve always wanted to play an instrument?” sunghoon asks.

you shake your head, slightly frowning, “if you told me i could’ve started teaching you how to play bass guitar!”

he laughs at your response, taking in the atmosphere around him.

sunghoon can’t ignore the fact that your hands have gotten softer than before, or that you had some makeup on that enhanced your features, or that everytime you would mess up you would laugh it off.

sunghoon can’t help but have a smile on his face around you.

he can’t help but enjoy being with you. he can’t help but look forward to spending time together. he can’t help but find you infinitely gorgeous and perfect.

he can’t help but fall in love with you.

and this time, he accepts it.

soon the music comes to an end, but you're too busy enjoying eachothers company to acknowledge it.

he randomly says, “i’m sorry for what i’m about to do.”

sunghoon knows he’ll regret this, but he does it anyway.

he plants his lips onto yours, softly kissing you. you’re shocked at first. before you return the kiss, wrapping you arms around his neck. you pull out to take a breath, looking deeply into his dark brown eyes.

he smiles at you, and you smile back.

maybe this time sunghoon will give love a try. and maybe it’ll work out for him.

012 EXTRA

this was the fourth time sunghoon had tried to sneak you out of your schedule, everytime he tried something new but it never worked.

but this time he had a new plan.

you had just finished your stage at music bank, and still had hours to go until awards were announced.

sunghoon’s job was to distract the staff, and let you sneak out unnoticed.

he arrived at the back door, starting small talk with the staff in front of the doors.

“hey have you seen my new selfie?”

“do you like this theme for the next ball?”

“which suit should i wear?” he repeatedly asks, nudging his head as a symbol for you to go.

you, watching throw a small crack in the door, open it and take off running out from the side which was slightly out of their view. you run as fast as possible. foot after foot, step after step. ignoring the weird looks sent your way, you finally stop at a familiar tree.

a few minutes later he comes running to you, waving at you.

before you say anything he tackles you into a hug, almost knocking you over.

“someone missed me huh?” you tease, softly caressing his shoulder.

“yeah i really did,” he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“how’d you even distract them for that long? they always keep their eyes on the door.” you furrow your brows, worried they were chasing after you.

he smirks, keeping eye contact while putting your hair behind your ear. you quickly get flustered, dropping the subject.

sunghoon truly was quite the distractor.

thank u sm for reading! if you liked this plz check out my work “apple cider” :)) have a great day!!

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ghostchems · 6 months

Note

Can you write an angst that leads to smut abt terzo just getting dragged off stage and he feels worthless so reader (gn plz) gives him a little.. Uhh...ego boost? (Bj)

so sorry for taking SO long. mdni! 18+! about 1.4K words. some angst some sads some sexy

Terzo feels like he can’t breathe, still in the arms of the security team as he reaches off stage. The last thing he saw was his father, waiting in the wings, watching his son get dragged off stage with a stern look. His head is pounding and he can hardly think as he’s forced backstage and toward his dressing room.

Everything had gone according to plan. Terzo had given his all for this performance, his final performance of the tour and was looking forward to taking some time off from the demanding schedule. Their attendance has been up, the word of the Morningstar has spread and so has the influence of the clergy — and it is because of him whether they see it or not. It’s true that he butt heads with leadership, with his father, but their success was also his success. Were they really punishing him for this?

It’s true that Terzo has become disillusioned by the clergy leadership and that members close to him started to catch on. Terzo didn’t let that get in the way of putting on a show of the highest standards. He could hardly think. His head is pounding, his eyes wincing with each sharp jab of pain shooting through his forehead.

The security team plops him in the dressing room and leaves to let you take care of him. You weren’t aware of the plans, just that you need to be here for him and keep him in the room while the crew breaks down the stage. You stay quiet and watch him rage, shocked by how angry he is. What did they do to him? Terzo smashes a few glasses of water and shoves the alcohol off of the stocked bar, the bottles shattering on the ground. You’ve never seen him this out of control before and you’ve been his comfort after each show this particular tour. Your job ranges from getting him the snacks he needs to helping him come down from the high of performing.

You know him inside and out and you have never been afraid of him.

Until now.

“How dare he!?” Terzo’s voice rips through the dressing room, his anger and desperation making your own chest hurt. He furiously smooths out his jacket, having been crinkled by the security guards who had him in their grasp, then he runs his fingers through his hair. Everything must be perfectly in place or else the feeling of being out of control will have won. If anything, he can still control how he looks. Terzo’s eyes flit around the room before they settle on you. After a normal show he would be delighted to see you and you him, singing his praises on how well he did while you helped him with his wardrobe.

“You! Did you know?!” He points to you and nearly runs at you, the rage in his eyes making you flinch as he gets closer. You take a step back but he’s too quick, his hand grabbing you by the throat and squeezing before you’re even able to respond. A growl rumbles through his chest, your hands finding his arms to fight back, to try to wrench his hand from around your neck. Terzo’s white eye is shining, wisps of power seeping from it as you struggle against him, wheezing pleas pushing from your throat. He blinks, his white eye returning to normal as he loosens his grasp on your throat. Air fills your lungs, gasping and breathing heavily while you stumble away from him.

“M-mi dispiace.” His voice is hoarse, tinged with a whine. Terzo runs his hands over his face then his arms hang numbly by his sides. “How could he do this to me?” He sounds so desperate, so broken. You can’t stay away from him, your own arms wrapping around him to pull him into a hug. Terzo melts against you, burying his face in your shoulder as he squeezes you in his embrace. You’ve been through a lot together. You want to tell him that things will work out but you don’t want to give him false hope. All you can do is hold him and help him with what you can.

Terzo’s grip on you grows tighter and tighter as his mind races. Is this the end of his reign? Will the Papa position be vacated? What will he even do with himself now? His fingers start to dig into your back, a growl rumbling up from his throat as you struggle to breathe in his grasp. His hand knots in your hair and he rests his other on your shoulder as he starts to force you down to your knees. You try to pull away from him but he doesn’t let you so you relent, slowly dropping to your knees in front of him. He groans just from the sigh of you, his hand still firm in your hair as his other one fumbles with his zipper.

“Papa needs you, tesoro.” Terzo hums, freeing himself from his pants and tugs you toward him. Your lips meet his tip, giving it a soft kiss before you part them and swipe your tongue along the underside. He gives a hoarse grunt, fingers digging into your scalp as he pulls your hair to force you further down his cock. You whimper and do as instructed, sinking slowly down him, relaxing your jaw to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. You exhale through your nose and tilt your head up to look at him through thick lashes.

Terzo chokes out a moan, his cock twitching in your mouth. You start to bob your head along his length, using your tongue to swipe along his slit, a technique you know he enjoys. He twists his fingers in your hair and jerks his hips, his cock thrusting to hit the back of your throat. You gag and your throat convulses around him, tears stinging your eyes. Your eyes flit up to his and they are nearly black with arousal, his teeth gritted and a growl rumbling up his chest. Terzo’s hips snap roughly, his cock gliding down your throat with each violent thrust. You start to drool and you move your hands to grip his thighs, trying to hold on as he fucks your face.

His breath starts to grow more shallow, cut off by moans and grunts, his fingers scratching into your scalp. Your cheeks are stained with tears now, gagging around his thick cock with every downstroke, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth. You wonder if this makes him feel powerful, if this is helping the situation at all but your mind drifts to the assault on your throat.

“That’s a good -ah- puttanella, pleasing your Papa with that p-pretty mouth of y-yours.” He groans as his hips stutter, sucking in a sharp gasp. Terzo manages a few more thrusts before he gives a deep moan, his eyes squeezing shut as he empties himself into your mouth.

You gasp for air as you pull your lips off of him, your bleary eyes darting up to his face. Terzo catches his breath, letting go of your hair to tuck himself back into his pants. It’s evident by his expression that his mind is still racing. You sit back on your knees and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but you’re cut off by the door swinging open. Sister Imperator enters, her hands clasped behind her back. You wipe your lips off with the back of your hand and quickly climb to your feet, your face flushing with embarrassment. Terzo spins on his heel, his face twisting in a rage once he sets his sights on her.

“Che cazzo! Where is he?” He growls, annoyance dripping from each word.

“You may leave us now, sibling.” Imperator peers around him and gives you a tight lipped smile nodding toward the exit. You suck in a sharp breath, starting to walk past the two but you can’t help but look back at Terzo. The daggers in his eyes soften and you feel a pull to stay with him, to be there for him — but you’ve been relieved by Sister and there’s no one in the clergy you fear more than her.

You offer him a weak smile and leave the dressing room.

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #papa terzo x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfics #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 11 months

Text

Jake's Destiny: New Client

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader Summary: Jake has finally reached his breaking point and just needs a distraction, even for just an hour. Which is how he finds himself at The Hard Deck Gentlemen's Club. But while he expects this to be just a one-time thing, everything changes when Destiny walks through his door. Word Count: 4855 TW: Grinding, Light Thigh Riding, Stress, Panic Attack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Strip Club, Reader's clothes are described Note: Thank you to @green-socks for all of your help and the beta read! Love you!!! 💕

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

Jake wasn’t sure why he was here. While he had been to strip clubs in the past, they weren’t really his thing. If he wanted to see naked girls all he had to do was go to any bar, flash his black Amex as he bought a round of drinks, and he’d have at least three of them begging him to take them back to his place within the hour. But tonight was different. Tonight he was looking for a distraction and he was hoping he could find one here.

He had never been to The Hard Deck Gentlemen’s Club but it had excellent reviews online as well as having a reputation for being incredibly discreet which was a must. The last thing he needed was for his family to find out he was here. He already heard enough about how he was a disappointment who had tarnished the family name; he didn’t need to add any further fuel to that fire.

Looking around, Jake was surprised at the small crowd gathered around the stage. At this time in the afternoon, he had expected the place to be basically empty, however there were at least a dozen men watching the girl currently performing and another four or five standing around the bar.

Hunching his shoulders and ducking his head in case there was anyone around who might recognize him, Jake searched for where he needed to go. His eyes landed on a shorter man leaning against a podium by the side of the stage. He didn’t necessarily look like the sort of guy to work at a higher-end place like this, but Jake could just make out the staff shirt peeking out from beneath his leather bomber jacket. So, Jake took a chance and walked over to him.

As he got closer, the man looked over to see Jake approaching. He smiled and asked, “Hey there. Anything I can help you with?”

“Who do I see about booking a private room?” Jake asked, forgoing any pleasantries.

“That’d be me. I just need to see your ID.” The man picked up a clipboard from off the podium. “Anyone or anything in particular you were looking for? A specific girl or request?”

“I don’t care,” Jake grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets to pull out his wallet. “Just send me whoever you have.”

The man nodded as Jake flashed him his ID. “You got it. Looks like I can have someone ready for you in about ten minutes. Until then you can go back to the room and just get comfortable. Your hour won’t start until she comes in so don’t worry about that.”

He wrote something else down on the clipboard and then offered it to Jake along with his pen. Jake skimmed the page quickly but it just seemed like a standard waiver with a set of rules he was supposed to follow. Although, Jake did raise his eyebrow at the price at the bottom of the page. Now he remembered another reason why he usually stuck to bars rather than places like this. Yet money had never been a concern for Jake Seresin so he just silently pulled out his wallet and counted out the correct cash. Then he signed the form ‘Jake’ and held it and the money out to the man.

The man took a quick look at the form and shook his head. “Full name on the signature. First and last.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “I thought this place prided itself on discrepancy and anonymity?”

“We do…. from other people. But one of the ways we keep our girls safe and protected is by knowing exactly who we are sending in to be with them. This way if anyone tries to get out of hand or does something we don’t approve of, we know who did it. However, we don’t share that information with anyone, except the police if they have a warrant but that’s never happened before.”

He gestured to the form once again and Jake reluctantly signed his last name as well. This seemed to be acceptable since this time the man took the clipboard and the money from Jake.

The man quickly did a count of his own before stuffing the money into his pocket. Then, he stuck out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Jake blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Seems like you didn’t read those rules before you signed them– no one ever does,” the man muttered under his breath. He held out the sheet Jake had just signed and pointed to a bullet point near the bottom. “There’s no phones allowed in the private rooms.”

Jake scoffed. “Yeah, well, I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Yeah, well, then you’re not going back there.”

“I already paid you!”

The man dug into his pocket and pulled out the cash Jake had just slipped him. He held it out for Jake to take, but Jake hesitated. Would it really be so bad to get an escape from all the numerous texts, calls, and emails that were constantly blowing up his phone? Maybe a single hour of reprieve would be good for him.

Seeing his indecision, the man sighed. “Look, kid. You either hand me your phone or you take your money and go. It’s up to you.”

Jake’s mind quickly flashed to those boring safety seminars all company employees were mandated to take that emphasized never letting your phone out of your sight in public or never allowing anyone else to see it. Especially if your phone contained any sensitive company information– which was about 90% of what was on Jake’s phone. Yet, it didn’t stop him from pulling out his phone, double-checking it was locked, and reluctantly handing it out to the man.

The man took it with a nod. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He slipped Jake’s phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and gestured to a hallway on the far side of the bar. “Now, go down that hall and into room 3. One of the girls will meet you there in a few minutes. When you’re done, come find me and I’ll give this back to you. If I’m not around, just ask any of the girls for Maverick and they’ll know where to find me.”

Jake scowled. He couldn’t believe he just handed over his entire life to a man named ‘Maverick’. “Just so you know, that phone has the highest security protection money can buy so don’t even think of trying to break into it.”

Maverick chuckled as he shook his head. “Kid, I’ve got better things to do than to sit here and try to break into your phone. So whatever it is you think you have to hide from the world, believe me, it’ll still be safely hidden when you get back.” He glanced at the stage as the song came to an end and the spotlights dimmed signaling the performer to walk off stage. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to get back to those better things. And so do you. Room 3, your girl will join you shortly.” And with that, Maverick turned and left.

Jake watched him walk away and duck through a door marked “Employees Only” before he headed towards the hall. Walking down it, he was soon met with a dead end. To his right was a single metal door with the sign “Security Office” on the front and to his left was another hallway lined on both sides with doors. Each door had a number painted on it in fancy calligraphic font so Jake turned left and headed for the one at the end of the hall labeled 3.

Opening the door, he was pleased with how clean and well-furnished the room looked. Various chairs, an ottoman, a couch, and several tables were scattered around the well-lit room. There was a floor-to-ceiling pole off to one side in front of one of the larger chairs and a small platform that was probably a kind of mini stage on the other side of the room. But Jake ignored all of this in favor of the large red velvet couch.

As he sat down, he eyed the glasses and various liquors displayed on the table across from him. Maverick hadn’t mentioned anything about drinks being provided but then again, Jake had paid a pretty penny for this room. The least they could do is comp him one drink. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a small taste of the whiskey. It wasn’t top shelf by any means, but it was smooth enough and Jake wasn’t in the mood to be picky so he filled his glass and eased back into the cushions to wait.

It didn’t take long.

A moment later, the door opened and Jake’s heart unexpectedly skipped a beat as you walked in and closed the door behind you.

You were wearing a pale pink sheer robe with matching pink feathers all along the edges that fell to the floor and brushed against the top of your ridiculously tall heels. Though it was tied loosely around your waist, he could see a set of lingerie a few shades darker than the robe showing through. He was slightly surprised by its style. In the clubs he’d been to before, all the girls wore very skimpy clothing– practically just a tiny piece of cloth held up by a string. But while yours was still revealing, it was also much more suggestive. Clinging perfectly to your body, the material was cut in such a way that it gave a tantalizing tease of what was just beneath without showing off too much. Jake couldn’t take his eyes off where it was molded over your breast or hugged your hips.

However, whatever hold you had on him shattered the second he glanced up at your face. While you were breathtaking, your blank doe-eyed expression and big pouty lips were an instant turn-off. Jake had been dealing with enough immature babies recently. He didn’t need to pay to deal with another one.

But before he could say anything, you batted your long eyelashes at him as you bent over slightly- pushing out your breasts as you did so –and bit your lip cooing, “Hey there, baby. What brings you in to see me today?”

Your voice was breathy and dripping with a saccharine charm that Jake was sure worked on some people, but to him just sounded condescending and demeaning. Rolling his eyes, he drained his glass and reached for the bottle in front of him. “You can drop the act. I don’t want it.”

You stared at him for a moment, your eyes wide and innocent. But then your entire demeanor shifted as you straightened up to your full height. No longer this meek, innocent girl looking to please her client, you met his gaze with a self-assured confidence and smirked at him. Now it was his turn to be surprised. It was like he was staring at a completely different woman than the one who had walked in.

“Oh, thank god,” you sighed in what almost sounded like relief. The breathy quality of your voice was now replaced by a strong, smooth tone that he found very pleasing. “I hate doing the naive little girl thing.”

Sauntering across the room with a flutter of your feather-trimmed robe, you paused in front of the ottoman to the side of the couch. Lifting the top, Jake could see it was actually a storage unit filled with small bottles of water. You picked one up and quickly downed it in a few large gulps.

Wiping your hand across the back of your mouth, you said, “Before we get started, there are a couple of ground rules you need to know. Are you alright with that?”

“Ye-yeah. I guess,” Jake stuttered, still thrown off guard by your complete 180-degree shift in personality.

You nodded in confirmation then began to ramble off the rules in a way that made Jake feel as though you had given this speech many times before. “To start with, anything you say while in this room is confidential and I am not allowed to share with any third party so you are free to discuss anything without the fear that it will get back to anyone else in your life. Please remember that I am a stripper, not a prostitute so there is no kissing or sex of any kind. If you have some kink or fetish you want me to perform, you are more than welcome to ask but it is up to my comfort and discretion if I’ll do it. I do allow some touching above the belt but if you try to go too far, you’ll get a warning. On the second warning, we’re done. If that happens, I’ll leave no matter how much time you have left in your hour. If you try to stop me or do anything I or the club does not approve of–” you pointed towards the corner of the room “–the person monitoring the cameras will send security to escort you from the club and you will be banned for life. Also, I don’t date or fraternize with clients once I am off the clock so don’t even ask. Are there any questions or concerns?”

“No,” Jake muttered.

“Good. Then we are ready to start.” You selected another water bottle before returning the lid to the top of the ottoman.

With the bottle still in your hand, you crossed the remaining distance and stood before Jake. “Sorry about before. They didn’t tell me what you wanted when they sent me in here and usually, men who look and dress like you want one of three types of girls so I took a guess.”

“And what type of girls would that be?” Jake asked.

Dramatically swishing your robe behind you, you sat down on the edge of the table across from him, crossing one leg over the other so your foot just barely avoided skimming his knee. “Oh, you know. Either the sweet, empty-headed young thing who just wants to make daddy happy after a long day at work. Or the submissive who loves being called all those dirty, filthy things a man should never call their wife or girlfriend. Or the dominatrix who loves calling the man all those things a wife or girlfriend should never be asked to call them.” You chuckled ruefully as you shook your head. “If guys would just grow some balls and tell their significant others what they really wanted, what got them off, I would be out of a job in a second. But there is still too much of a stigma about admitting what you want so… here I am.”

Opening your water bottle, you took another small sip. Then, you ran the toe of your shoe up and down Jake’s thigh. “So, which is it? What kind of girl are you looking for tonight?”

Jake shook his head. “None of those. I mean, that’s not… I..”

Putting the bottle down, you leaned forward and gently took his hands between yours. Then, in a soft, kind voice, you said, “It’s alright. I told you, I’m here so you can ask for whatever you need. You paid for this to be a safe place and I won't judge you. But believe me, whatever it is, I’ve seen weirder.”

Looking deep into your eyes, Jake got the strangest feeling that you were right and he could trust you. He might come to regret it later but right now he didn’t have anywhere else to turn. So, taking a deep breath, he muttered, “I don’t know what I want. Or even what I need. I just… I just need a break from it all. It’s just too much.”

Your sweet smile shifted to one of understanding. "Ohhh. You’re right. You aren’t here for one of those kinds of girls. The fancy suit threw me off but you’re just here looking for what everyone really wants.”

“And what is that?”

"Someone to listen. To really hear what’s wrong and tell you it’s all going to be alright. You're a talker. But that's okay. Those are my favorite kinds of clients." You slipped forward off the table and onto his lap so you were straddling one of his legs. Wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding your fingers into his hair, you asked, "So, what is it you wanna talk about, baby?”

Jake flinched and tried to pull back but you held yourself firmly in place. “No. Not that. Don’t.. Don’t call me that.”

“Alright… then what should I call you?”

“Jake. Just…. Just call me Jake.”

You smiled and scooted down his leg closer to his chest. “Okay, Jake. You can call me Destiny.” He snorted at the name before he could stop himself. But luckily, you didn’t seem offended. Instead, your smile widened. “Alright, you’re not a fan of that either. How ‘bout you call me Des? Normally I only let my friends call me that. But I think I can make an exception in your case.”

It was still ridiculous, but at least it wasn’t such a blatant reminder of where he was or who you were. “Yeah, okay, fine. I guess it’s nice to meet you, Des.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jake.”

All the snark and attitude from before had melted away and you had once again transformed into another person. Where before the sweet breathiness of your voice had been cloying, it was now calming and reassuring. Almost as if you were whispering each word so only the two of you could hear. And the way your eyes locked onto his with such compassion and interest, he truly felt as if he were the only person in the world at that moment.

Slowly, you began to rock gently against his thigh while at the same time, your nails began to scratch at the base of his neck. “Now, Jake, do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jake felt all the tension and stress of the last few weeks slowly ebbing from his body and you continued to lightly caress his head and grind down on his leg. The repetitive motions were soothing and relaxing and he soon found his eyes growing heavy until he was unable to keep them open any longer– not asleep but just more relaxed than he remembered feeling in a long time.

You continued your gentle grinding for what seemed like an eternity before leaning closer and brushing your nose against his ear. With a soft coo, you asked, “Come on, Jake. What’s wrong? You came here for a reason, so what is it?”

Jake opened his eyes to see your face hovering just inches from his. If he tilted his head slightly, his lips would brush against yours. But instead, he took a deep breath before letting it out really slowly. Then he opened his mouth and everything he had been holding back suddenly came flooding out. “It’s everything. It’s my work, and my family, and my life, and just… just all of it! I can’t get two seconds to myself where I’m not being hounded for answers or opinions or I’m expected to put out another fire yet being told I always do it wrong! I can’t breathe! It’s too much and I– I can’t–”

“Shhh, shhhhhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Jake didn’t even realize his voice had begun to rise to a frantic pitch and he was hyperventilating until you placed your hands on the side of his face and forced him to look at you. Your voice maintained its same soothing tone and though you were no longer scratching the back of his head, you continued to rock against his leg as if nothing had changed.

With the same understanding gleam in your eyes, you smiled softly. "You can breathe here. It's just you and me. No one else. No other demands or expectations, no one asking you for anything. Just whatever you want and you need. That's all."

Jake’s eyes darted up to the corner where you had pointed out the camera earlier, but you turned his face back to face you. “It’s okay. Believe me, they try to avoid watching what happens in here as much as possible. Just enough to make sure us girls are safe. And I can tell I’m safe with you. In fact–” You turned towards the corner and gave a thumbs up before flipping off the camera. Turning back to Jake, you said, “There. Now they’re not even watching.”

“What was that?” Jake asked with a small anxious chuckle.

Grinning, you gave him a thumbs up. “It means ‘I’m all good’—” You put your thumb down and stuck your middle finger straight up “—‘now fuck off’.”

“Clever system.”

“Thanks. We think so.” You skimmed your fingers lightly up his cheek to brush a fallen strand of hair off his face. “Now… back to you. I meant it, Jake. Whatever you need. And if that is for us to just sit in silence while I continue to do this, that’s fine. Or, if there’s something you need to get off your chest, I’m here to listen. It’s whatever you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Jake admitted. “And I guess that’s part of the problem.” He hesitated as he considered his next words carefully so as to not give too much about himself away. “My family owns a very large, very successful company based here in Texas. It was started by my great-great-grandfather and has since become very…. profitable. And with all of that comes a lot of responsibility to not fuck it all up. And yes, I made some stupid mistakes in my past, but since my dad had a heart attack last year and I’ve taken over, I’ve tried everything I can to grow up and do what’s best for the company. But nothing I seem to do, no decision I make, is ever right in my family’s eyes. I’m trying everything I can to live up to my family name and expectations but…. I keep failing. And I just…. I don’t know what to do.”

Jake knew this was ridiculous. You weren’t some strategic advisor or psychiatrist. You were just someone he had paid to be currently grinding against his thigh. And yet, you quirked your head and began to chew on your bottom lip like you were deep in thought. Like you actually wanted to help him solve his problems. And once again, Jake was hit by a wave of emotion at actually being seen and listened to by someone.

After pondering his predicament for a moment, you finally spoke. “Let me ask you a question. Are you happy with the work and choices you’re making? Like, do you think they were the best ones you could have made at the time?”

“Yes,” Jake reluctantly admitted.

“And how do others outside of your family think you’re doing? Co-workers, employees, others in charge, people like that.”

Jake shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I mean, they mostly seem happy with how things are going.”

“Then sweethear– Jake. I don’t think the problem is you. I think the problem is your family.” Seeing Jake’s furrowed brow, you explained. “It sounds like you’re doing a great job so maybe your family’s constant criticism and degradation is their fucked up way of trying to remain relevant or in control. That they don’t like the fact you are succeeding without them or their help. Or that they don’t want to admit you’ve grown from your mistakes in the past and become someone worthy of this position you’ve been given.”

It felt as if you had just punched him in the chest. For a minute, Jake actually struggled to catch his breath. It was a thought that had frequently nagged at the deepest corners of his mind but he had refused to entertain. But hearing someone else say it, hearing the words uttered out loud, he was no longer able to pretend it wasn’t possible. Maybe he wasn’t the fuckup his father seemed to think he was. Maybe he wasn’t leading the company into failure and ruin like his mother always loudly whispered to her friends when Jake walked in the room. Maybe Javy hadn’t just been a great friend when he told Jake the rest of the board was very pleased with his latest decisions and changes. Maybe this wasn’t all on him after all.

As Jake opened his mouth to share this revelation with you, a large red light above the door lit up but you ignored it as you continued to stare at Jake expectantly. He nodded towards the light. “What does that mean?”

“That means your hour is up. But we’re not done talking so we’re ignoring it for now. It seemed as if you just had a breakthrough of some kind.”

Jake gave you a small smile. “I think I did. But, uh, I think for now I need to process things first before I talk about it. Can I… Can I come see you again when I’m ready for that?”

You smiled back as you ran your hand down his face and lingered over his lips. “Jake, you can come see me anytime you want, whether you’re ready to talk about it or not. I’m sure we can find other things to occupy the time.”

You rolled your scantily-clad body into his one final time and stood up off his lap. Holding out your hand, you helped him to his feet. Then, looping your arm through his, you walked with him towards the door.

When you both reached it, you slid your arm out of his and took a step back. “I have to stay and straighten up a few things but just head back down the hall and you’ll get back to the main room. And I do honestly hope to see you again sometime, Jake.”

“Me too, Des.” Jake reached for the door handle, but he paused just before opening it. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “You’ve known who I was since you walked in here, haven’t you?”

You winced as you grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ve known who you were. It’s hard not to recognize Jacob Seresin when his face is plastered all over the tabloids every few months. But I promise you, it doesn’t change anything. What we say or do in here will always be completely just between us. I promise my clients a safe space, and I mean it. It doesn’t matter who you are.”

Well, thank you for being the person I needed tonight.” Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out three bills that he held up. “Just my way of showing my appreciation.” Then he placed them on the table near the door and walked out into the hallway.

As Jake exited into the main room feeling lighter than he had in almost a year, he noticed the man with the clipboard from earlier standing at the other end of the bar laughing with the young brunette bartender. As he approached, the man – Maverick, Jake suddenly remembered – caught his eye and turned to him. “Well, you look like you had a good time.”

Jake smiled softly to himself. “Yeah. I actually did.” Though he had planned on never returning to this place after tonight, his mind flashed to the tender look in your eyes as you promised him he could relax with you. “In fact, I’m going to be making this a weekly thing.”

Maverick chuckled as he picked up his clipboard off the bar. “Sounds like you really enjoyed your time. Alright, I’ll mark you down as one of our exclusive Platinum members. Basically, it guarantees you a room and discounts on drinks and dances, that sort of thing.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, fine, whatever. I don’t care about any of that. However, when I come in, I only want Destiny.”

Maverick paused mid-note with his pen still pressed against the clipboard as he looked up at Jake. “Sorry, kid. I can’t promise that. It all depends on her schedule and if she’s in the middle of seeing someone else and–”

“I’ll pay triple her rate.”

The other man raised an eyebrow as he continued to stare at Jake. “Damn. I’ve seen plenty of guys hooked before but it usually takes more than one dance.” Shaking his head with a grin, Maverick scribbled something else on the clipboard. “Alright. I’ve made the note.” He looked back up at Jake. “You must see something really special in her, huh?”

Yeah. Jake thought as he remembered your smile and your soft, soothing whispering in his ear and the way you really seemed to see him instead of just a tool to be used despite knowing who he was and the feel of your nails scratching at the base of his neck as you rocked back and forth against his leg and— Oh fuck. What have I gotten myself into?

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#fic #jake's destiny #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #stripper!reader #dancer!reader #f!reader #jake hangman seresin x stripper!reader #hangman x stripper!reader #first meeting #hurt & comfort #hurt/comfort #panic attack tw

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notknickers · 8 months

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it's here, barely in time. enjoy, or don't. i'm done. which is what matters.

synopsis: when colonel könig gets restless, he knows he can always count on his favourite recruit to put him in his place the way he needs to. warnings: unethical power imbalance, full-con otherwise, boot blacking, proud to messy submissive, slight degradation, manhandling, könig loves it when mummy steps on him, orgasm control, masturbation, praising, köning is a little worm who loves to squirm, smoking, light petting, aftercare, second-person narration in present tense, no gender mention, but reader assumed to be afab, military-related inaccuracies, probably. word count: 2643

a/n: i was stoked to write a boot blacking scene, so i hope it came out right.

if you are under 18, tentakönig doesn't want you to clik below. you don't want to make tentakönig sad, do you?

that day started exactly as expected. early wake, frugal breakfast and another simulation of a real mission. tomorrow will be the same, until, one day soon, it will not be just another realistic exercise to drag you from bed, but a real, multi-day operation with unbelievably high stakes. so you and your squad completed your tasks, competing against the others, making use of all the skills cultivated in the almost ten years of service before being hand-picked for your new position in the private sector, just to see if your current employer is satisfied with it, or thinks you could all use a few pointers and much more training to meet their very high standards. you cleared the assigned objectives to the best of your abilities, each member of the team there to shore up each other’s weaknesses and emphasise each other’s strength, then exfiltrated and had an end-of-day debrief. a very boring one, by then. with all the adrenaline spiking and dropping, all you could think of was supper, then the cot. not a recap of the day. even less so a reprimand for accidentally tracking mud inside. that one ended with the sergeant with a stick up his arse threatening all kinds of debasing chores around base to instil in you some sense of decorum. luckily, colonel könig stepped in to take the task of teaching you a lesson personally.

the sergeant really wanted to be the one to discipline you, before the colonel swept you from him! too bad.

you felt grateful, suspecting könig had far different plans in mind, even though exhausted, dirty and starved, you were not sure you could perform them as well as he had come to expect.

you found comfort in the fact that he did not appear to be in a full-on crisis like last time, even though you could sense nervousness exude from his fidgety fingers and pace.

when the two of you turned the corner of a corridor and he lifted you off the ground like you weighed nothing – to avoid leaving any more mud prints and no other reason, surely – all worry dissipated like fluffy clouds battered by ruthless winds.

so, this is how you find yourself in the colonel’s private office, sitting on his incredibly comfortable – and duly reinforced – leather chair he usually keeps behind his desk, with one muddy boot rested on the kneeling man’s bulky right thigh, a boot blacking kit set on the floor beside him.

he has just finished wiping the worst of it from your soles and is now undoing the laces, pinching them between thumb and index to force the dried dirt to crumble on the towel he has intelligently spread under both of you.

you observe the meticulous care with which könig folds the lace into a hank and puts it on the corresponding side, so he will know to what boot it belonged. he does the same with the other.

perched up in his – now yours – chair, you watch the colonel dip the bigger brush in water and saddle soap a few times, before he begins to lather the leather until the whole surface froths with white foam, the circular motions soothing your aching feet even through the thick material.

but it’s not just the pleasant, physical sensation that captures you: it is always fascinating watching the colonel labour with such practised skill.

it’s not that you are a stranger to caring for each item of your uniform to the mandated standards yourself: minding your equipment is just another one of your duties. however, the fact that a man several ranks higher than you is hard at work on his knees to clean muck from your boots never ceases to tickle that well-hidden spot in the secret hallways of your mind. that spot that feels increasingly less concealed, as time goes by and colonel könig keeps, knowingly or not, to appeal to it with such naked candour and good will.

you sink into the padding a little, closing your eyes as the clean, slightly pungent, scent of soap fills your nostrils and the gentle rustle of cotton against the leather grain reaches your hearing with regular cadence. könig is vigorously wiping the foam with a rag, mercifully sending warmth up your stiff legs, weary from all the walking, scuttling and crawling.

he takes his time with it and you don’t dare say a word, lest you distract him and ruin the moment. you can envision his serious expression even under the mask he has not removed: brow knitted. intent focussed. mind clear.

you wonder if the colonel is the type who, when fully committed to a task, lets the tip of his tongue inadvertently snake and wander from the confines of his lips, leaving it to peep out for the duration. the thought makes you snigger, a small but crystalline sound that has könig halt a moment in question.

you shake your head in dismissal, mirth warming your features: «please, colonel, continue.»

the harsher sound of dry bristles from a smaller brush going through seams and metal eyelets resumes as he obeys, until this stage, too, is completed to his – and, implicitly yours – satisfaction.

as much as you crave the sight of him, so much you wish you could burn it in your retinas, you don’t have it in you to open your eyes when he firmly lifts your right leg to rest it on the bulging muscle of his quadriceps, like he just did with your left, to restore that boot, too.

you let the colonel serve, his movements and their sounds giving you a very clear idea of what is happening all the same, as you sink even more in your seat.

the clinking of a metal jar makes you grimace faintly, but the known smell of shoe grease gets you back in the moment. he works the stuff with his bare fingers, massaging it into the leather up to the ankle, which he carefully turns to slather the whole boot.

you almost wish you could get away with keeping your endowments in worse condition, as all it will take for your boots to rediscover their as-new shine will be a single coat. two at most. you can’t help but sigh, trying not to let your disappointment sift through: so attentive and attuned is the colonel, he would surely detect it and risk thinking he is the source of your displeasure.

a notion that could not be furthest from the truth.

as the left boot soaks in the wax, the colonel’s hands operate as deftly on the other. this time you indulge in watching him knead more product in with knowing touch. the time to buffer the other one with another clean clothe comes too soon, but you enjoy the care anyway. when the right one has also been thoroughly wiped, he takes both of your feet back on his thighs to laces them back up. making sure the length on each string is even.

quiet but proud, he waits for your verdict.

you peer at the renewed leather with critical eye, toying a bit with the colonel with long pauses and pensive frowns, the soft light of the desk lamp suffusing the outline of your right boot enough to let you admire its state.

«an impeccable job as always, colonel», you state as you plant your left boot on his shoulder, «however…»

you sense his tension at your objection, that sudden tautening that goes through every fibre of könig’s ample figure like lightening. his eyes lift to yours, expectant.

«however, i think they could use a spit shine… what do you say, colonel?»

könig eases right away as his neck turns towards your ankle. there’s no need to specify you expect his tongue to serve as both applicator and buffer, this time, as the colonel is already lifting his hood, using the bridge of his nose to secure its hem.

his eyes fix on yours as his tongue traces your boot from heel to toe, through the side, and a deep, intense shiver seizes you from within as he continues, lips smacking as he delivers a flurry of wet and languorous kisses on the leather itself.

his large hand firmly braces your ankle, further bending your knee. he cups the rubber sole with the other, as his tongue contours the shoe’s silhouette. he glances at you in between long sweeps of his tongue, desire glinting as bright as fireflies in the dark.

you take it all in from above. the fluid movements; the way his ruined, red lips, glowing with spit, part and suck; how his soft, pink tongue flutters over the dark surface, careful not to miss a single spot.

as diligent with his mouth as he is skilled with, you have come to believe, all he does. a quality of his you thoroughly appreciate.

you find your teeth pinching your bottom lip as the sight of him filters through the heave of your chest, getting slightly faster as it accommodates your heart picking up pace. so devoted to his task, he barely notices when your stamp your other boot on his muscled chest and push, shoving him down to the floor.

you abruptly stand as könig drags backwards on his elbows, resettling after the unexpected fall.

«tell me, colonel, do my boots taste good on your tongue?», there’s a hint of a cruel smirk pulling your lips in a tense line.

könig, eyes a little desperate in arousal, nods slowly.

you draw closer, speaking more softly: «do you miss it, colonel, their taste?»

again, he nods as he still holds himself up from the floor on his elbows as you loom closer.

«how much?», you breathe out as he watches you advance with no more room to escape.

you press the boot on his cheek, pushing his face between floor tiles and rubber, forcing könig to lie on his back.

«well?», you taunt, «show me how much you miss it, colonel.»

in that position, he has to strain his tongue to manage to feel the lovely leather back on it, where it belongs. where he aches for it. the tip of it almost reaches you several times as he groans at every attempt, saliva dripping down his mouth to his chin, where it pools thickly, before drooling down to the floor, wetting his reddened cheeks at its passage.

«go on, colonel. if anyone can manage, that is you», you taunt and encourage at once, until, indeed, his tongue brushes the boot that holds him down.

«good, pup!», you coo, dragging the rubber of your boot lower on his chest, the tread of it engraved in könig’s face.

you don’t stop your descent, slow though you decide to keep it, until it approaches könig’s waists. his hips jolt up a little of their own accord before you’ve even found balance, letting you know in unmistakeable terms what he hopes from you.

«you want me to go lower, puppy?»

he nods more emphatically, panting a little in anticipation.

«oh, colonel… do you really want me to use my shiny, black, leather boot to make you come in your drawers, like a pathetic adolescent?»

you rub the toes of your boot downwards, feeling könig’s impressive length struggle painfully against the durable material of his uniform, barely any room to accommodate his hard-on, his hips lifting up against you.

he whines pitifully when you pull away, leaving him to thrust into empty air in utter frustration.

«oh, puppy… but what would all the respectable men and women who serve under you think, if they knew that their colonel likes to make a sticky mess in his clothes?», your voice oozes mockery and sympathy in almost equal measure, as you rile him up.

just like the defeated way in which he peers back at you in supplication both pulls at your heart strings and makes you slick between your thighs at the same time.

you sigh: «alright, then. cock out, colonel.»

he’s not quick enough to react to your tastes, so you intimate again, voice much harsher and peremptory, this time: «cock out, i said!»

he quickly fumbles with belt and buttons, until his heavy member, slicked and leaky at the tip and swollen from all the constriction ill-endured inside his trousers, springs out, lending with a smack on his lower abdomen, on his enticing trail of blond curls.

your boot is quick to kiss it, further squeezing its shaft against könig’s stomach as he groans, full of longing and gratitude. he mindlessly grinds against you as you watch him, barely having to do any work yourself.

«my floor-loving, little worm… squirming so desperately…», you swear you can feel the warmth of his skin as you taunt him.

he’s incapable of uttering anything of meaning. only grunting and grinding. the sight of it makes you feel like your heart is racing from between your legs. it seems, for now, the only one between you who will be making a slicky mess in their drawers is yourself.

you bring your fingers to your mouth and quickly moisten them, before disappearing them in your trousers, a gesture the colonel’s eyes suddenly gain focus for.

under the clothes, you part your lower lips and trap your clit between your fingers, rubbing and pulling at it idly, at first. you are so wet you could have forgone licking your fingers and your breathing turns to sighing sooner than you expected, vying with the obscene squelching of your sex for könig’s senses.

the way the colonel rubs against the tread of the boot that presses down on him, you’re not the only one mere moments away from bliss.

your breath hitches and you barely avoid embarrassingly choking on your own saliva when you try to speak: «are you close, puppy?»

könig frantically nods affirmatively, motion almost matching the rhythm of his hips. a quick glance at him, at the interest with which he stares at you, at his own movements, could have told you as much. the known, mindless litany of german words is right behind his lips, ready to tumble out of them.

it will have to wait

«good puppies wait their turn, don’t they?»

könig whines in supplication, but he will not get any pity from you.

«you might be the big dog out there, but in here, colonel…»

you fail to finish your sentence that your voice breaks, head falling back in a whole-body shiver, as heat waves scorch your core. your cunt clenches tight on nothing. you swallow, panting and can’t help the snigger that emanates from your throat as your body still shakes.

pure euphoria.

könig is not far behind you, especially after that. a few more strokes from your boot and he spills on his own stomach, pumping his hips a little longer, before sagging to the floor.

exhaustion finally catches up with you. you join könig on the floor, after sweeping for papers and tobacco on his desk. he asks you to kindly roll a cigarette for the both of you, before indulging his hunger for your slicked fingers, now that you’re so close to him.

he’s such a nasty man. you oblige him in both favours, of course.

the two of you find yourselves passing cigarettes back and forth, occasionally blowing smoke in each other’s mouths, quietly lying on the floor.

you take a drag, cinders burning bright in the dim chamber, as he undoes the top of your fatigues, clearly tired of lying on your chest without feeling your skin on his, obviously finding there something more interesting to suck in his mouth than nicotine.

he gently cups and kisses, caresses and suckles tenderly on skin and breasts and collarbone, still half undressed and stained in his own juices. neither of you particularly disturbed by it, either way.

thank you for reading. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging.

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