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distantdarlings · 5 months

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HAVE ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When you are paired with Cormac McClaggen for a mid-semester project, he takes it as an opportunity to shoot his shot. However, despite your numerous rejections, he doesn't seem to want to let up. That is until Theo gets involved.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT, depictions of violence (a small fight, specifically), blood described very briefly, Cormac is hitting on reader and won't leave them alone, language, oral sex (perf. on reader), kissing, dom!Theo, fem reader, not proof-read

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Hotel - Montell Fish

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The chatter around the classroom slowly dwindled as Professor Snape silently slipped through the door of his office. Everyone was waiting patiently for the results of his decision from yesterday. He mentioned that the mid-semester project would be partnered rather than solo. To you, that was bad news, but to others in the class, it was good. You worked best when you didn’t have to sort out the ideas getting bounced around aloud. But if you had to work with a partner, please let it be someone halfway decent.

“So,” Snape starts, “I have here the list of partners for the mid-semester project. As a reminder, you will be handling very toxic materials, so for the sake of all of our time, be careful with them.” His expression hinted at boredom, despite the unfortunate things he was referencing. Last year, someone nearly lost a hand with this project, and—to be quite honest—that was one of the reasons you were so excited about it. You liked the challenge and, even better, overcoming it. But you couldn’t do that with a shitty partner. Your fingers crossed beneath your open notebook.

“Malfoy with Weasley, Berkshire with Granger,” he began listing the names. Your hips shifted uncomfortably. He was pairing everyone with the opposite house. Surely he’d grant you some mercy with how well you’d been doing in this class?

“—Nott with Finnigan—” Your thoughts were briefly interrupted as Theodore’s name was called. That was an interesting pairing; however, you knew that Potions was one of Theo’s strong suits, and, granted they worked well together, the both of them would successfully keep their eyebrows intact.

Your eyes found the older boy, tracing over every line on his face. You were friends, pretty good friends. His whole group of Slytherins were friendly with you, really. But there was something about him that had shocked you to your core from the first night you’d met him and started chatting at the Sorting ceremony when the both of you were eleven. He was quite literally one of the most attractive people you’d ever seen, and it seemed like he knew it too. The way he held himself down to the way he communicated with people, he just knew he was alarmingly alluring.

He had a way of staring right into your eyes when you spoke to him, almost to the point it felt as if he was reading your mind. No matter what, he’d give you his full attention, even more so than his other friends, it seemed. Maybe you had always imagined it, but if you called his name, he was there. He would be waiting with his ear next to your lips, eager to hear what you had to say, no matter how you were feeling. Perhaps it was cliche, but you felt as though you could tell him anything, and you did.

His eyes found yours suddenly. His lips parted into a crooked smile, his dazzling white teeth peeking through slightly. You returned the action, raising your eyebrows in an amused fashion at his partner for the project. He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. He pointed at you and mouthed, ‘You’re coming up.’ You rolled your eyes and laughed silently as you brushed him off. You were laughing, but, in all seriousness, this wasn’t a comedic matter. Your Potions grade was potentially on the chopping block here, and you were getting nervous. Snape didn’t grade depending on who did what; he simply graded on the project's legitimacy. You could do this by yourself, but if whomever your partner ended up being fucks it up, you both were screwed. And, on top of it all, you would have to work with a Gryffindor, someone you likely barely knew. Perfect.

Your name perked your ears as Snape paused for a moment, trying to decipher his own handwriting. Merlin, was he trying to tease you? You glanced around, wondering who hadn’t been selected yet. You hadn’t been paying attention. “Ah! With McClaggen.”

Your heart sank. You turned to glance over your shoulder at the showy Gryffindor sitting in the back corner of the classroom. He sent a wink and a small smirk your way, to which you replied by quickly turning back around. Did the universe hate you? It must. That was the only answer. Shit.

“Get to work,” he instructed, returning to his office and firmly shutting the door behind him. You weighed out the options in your head on how angry Snape would be if you asked to switch partners. You were sure he picked them for a reason…or maybe he didn’t? Merlin, help. Should you even bother with this? Maybe you could convince McClaggen to let you do all the work. He could sit patiently by and be quiet.

The classroom bustled gently as students were standing and finding their partners. Small groans echoed as everyone paired up. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that disliked your partner. Usually, you wouldn’t have expected Professor Snape to have paired Gryffindors with Slytherins. Who knew? Maybe he was trying something new.

You hid a wince and got to your feet. You collected your notebook and school bag and made your way over to the smirking boy. His hands were placed cockily behind his head, and one leg rested, crossed over the other. He maximalized every bit of space he took up, like a peacock. You repressed a groan and sat down in the seat next to him, neatly spreading your things out.

“Well, hello,” he cooed. “I don’t think I’ve spoken with you before.”

“I don’t think so either,” you chuckled nervously, eyes finding the back of Theo’s head. He sat towards the front of the classroom, partnered with the clumsy Gryffindor. You wondered if he was having the same doubts you were. As if on beat, his head turned and made eye contact with you. He hid a smile at your current predicament and gave you a small wave with his fingers. You rolled your eyes and, with the hand farthest from McClaggen, pretended to choke yourself with it. Theo laughed aloud before turning back around when his partner tapped his shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” your partner asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you smiled, “how about we get started?”

Most of the class period was spent discussing the potion the two of you wanted to brew. The assignment was to pick one of the most difficult potions to brew and to make and document the experience successfully. All of the potions you were to choose from were in the very last chapter of your textbook, and the two of you flipped through the pages, unsure.

Every so often, Cormac (you’d learned his first name was) would point at something on one of the pages and scoot ever so closer to you. He was so close now you could smell the peppermint candy he swished around his mouth. His arm rested alongside the back of your chair, and you were…immensely uncomfortable. Your back straightened so as not to come into contact with his arm.

Throughout this whole experience, you’d glance Theo looking back at the two of you every so often and wonder if you could signal him to distract the boy. It wasn’t that you felt threatened; you just wish he’d back the hell up. If you had a personal bubble, it had long since combusted. His face was so close to yours, and no matter how far you leaned away, he’d get closer. Finally, you’d had enough.

“Cormac,” you laughed nervously. You placed one hand on his chest and slowly pushed him back toward his own seat.

“What is it?” he asked. No matter what you did, that stupid smirk never failed.

“You are very close to me,” you explained, trying to remain as polite as possible. He shrugged and chuckled a bit, gaining on some of the space you’d placed between the two of you.

“Well, that’s because I want to get closer to you,” he said.

“Uh, no,” you tittered, “that’s okay. Let’s just do the project.” You tapped the textbook and pretended to immerse yourself back in the information, hoping he’d let it lie. He didn’t. His arm wrapped back around your chair, and your eyes slipped close in exasperation.

“Cormac, please—”

“What? Don’t you want to get to know each other before we do a project together?” he asked, scooting closer yet again.

“No, I really don’t. I just want to get this done.” His face resumed its previous proximity to yours. He smirked at the closeness and you sighed, turning your face away from his, begging Theo to glance back again.

“Oh, I see…is he your boyfriend?” Cormac asked. Your face shot back to his.

“What? No! He’s just a friend,” you said.

“That was a very quick, rushed answer,” he laughed, “but if you say so, that’s even better for me—”

“Please, let’s just do the assignment,” you pleaded, “I’m really not interested.”

“Not even for a trip to Hogsmeade?”

“No, not really, you’re not my type.” You glanced back at Theo. He was finally looking back. Only this time, his eyes were locked on the boy beside you, with his face so close to yours. His eyes gleamed blood red, and his jaw clenched tightly. Your eyebrows furrowed, begging him to intervene somehow. If Cormac wasn’t too embarrassed to shoot his shot in the middle of class, surrounded by his peers, you were almost positive he’d continue to harass you outside of the classroom. Maybe even when the two of you were alone, and he might not let up at that point.

“What is your type?” he asked. “Brooding assholes in Slytherin?” He said this part a bit louder, making direct eye contact with Theo. You could feel the tension building slightly, and did your best to diffuse the situation. You partially blocked their gaze of each other.

“Please don’t say that about him.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. Why are you defending him?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but he is my friend, and I’d like you not to call him names,” you spoke sternly, eyes hardening on the boy. He was plucking the last strings of your patience.

“Fine, I will—” you nodded at his promise “—if you let me take you to dinner.”

The bell signalling the end of class interrupted the conversation. Thank Merlin. You quickly gathered your things together and shoved them into your bag, praying he’d just drop the subject and let you move on with your day. You’d figure out a way to deal with him later. For right now, you just wanted to get your free period started as soon as possible. He stood right when you did. You ignored him and made for the exit, walking as quickly as looked natural.

You were the first out of the classroom and down the hall, trying your best to get away from him without completely abandoning Theo. A hand grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. It roughly spun you around, yanking a yelp from your throat. You stood before Cormac, who had a sinister look on his face.

“You never answered me,” he said. “Let me take you to dinner…”

“No, Cormac, I don’t want to go,” you said, attempting to wrestle yourself out of his iron grip. What about your thousand answers was he not grasping?

“Let go of me.” His hand did not release you, and it did not seem like he intended to, either. You slipped your hand between his and your shoulder, trying to edge it off. He made a sound of endearment before attempting to slide a hand around your hips. You squealed and squirmed away from him, trying to prevent him from wrapping his arms farther around you.

“Hey!” A voice shouted. The both of you began to turn, but before Cormac could get his head fully pivoted, a hand appeared on his shoulder and yanked him away from you. It was Theo, and he appeared to be fuming. His jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes were wild.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, McClaggen?” he demanded. “She said no, you dick!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. She said you weren’t her boyfriend,” the younger laughed meanly, poking him roughly in the chest. You winced at the contact.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, pushing the boy back from him. Cormac stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing. It appeared he was as surprised as everyone else was at the sudden hostility. Cormac laughed cockily.

He raised a hand and swung his fist at Theo as hard as he could, getting a good hit in. Theo’s head jerked to the side from the force of the punch, and you gasped sharply, hands shooting to cover your mouth in shock. Natural instincts told you to jump back, but you rushed toward Theo, who pushed you back gently behind him, squeezing your arm firmly. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it meant to stay put.

“Come on, Slytherin!” Cormac shouted. “Show me what your reject house is made of!”

A crowd of other students had begun to gather around the two boys, curious to see what all of the commotion was. Adrenaline pumped through your veins like ice water as you watched Theo approach the other boy, cocking his arms and wringing any stiffness out of them.

Before you could feel the exhalation of breath leave your body, Theo swung his arm at the boy, cracking him hard across the jaw. As if in slow motion, Cormac fell back and hit the ground with a hard thud. You imagined his tailbone would be quite bruised tomorrow morning.

Theo fell down on top of the boy, legs resting on either side of his hips, and wailed on him. Fist after fist hit the boy’s face, pushing more and more blood out of him. You screamed in shock as you realized Theo had no intention of stopping. Around the same time you did, everyone else did too. They began throwing shouts of concern and pressing in on the two boys. Everybody loved a good fight now and then but nobody wanted to see someone get killed.

Yet, nobody put their hands on Theo for fear of being in the same predicament as Cormac currently was. That was, until Enzo and Mattheo ran up behind the crowd. You heard them ask if that was Theo.

“Enzo!” you shouted his name, waving over the crowd. His eyes quickly found yours and in seeing the distress on your face, began weaving through the crowd. Mattheo quickly followed suit.

When they breached the barrier of the crowd, their eyes widened, and they made for their friend. They grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the poor boy, his face a mangled mess. You looked away quickly, not wanting to see the damage that had been done in your favor.

Once pulled away, a gathering of students ran over to Cormac and covered him with a wall of their protection, trying to see if they could help him somehow. You turned to Theo, who was breathing heavily, a single dripping of blood pouring from his nose. You turned to the bottom of your uniform shirt, found the edge of the seam, and tore a small section of it. You could get a replacement sometime later.

You approached the boy with a murderous gaze and gently pressed the piece of shirt beneath his nose. He flinched slightly but never looked away from Cormac. Maybe that hadn’t been for you, and he’d just wanted to beat Cormac’s ass—which is understandable, but still. You weren’t totally sure why he did it.

“Theo?” you spoke gently. His glare didn’t waver. The fingers pressing the material against his bloodied nose tilted his face carefully to look at you. His eyes found yours, softening slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t stand him touching you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. He didn’t seem convinced. How he looked at you with such concern and worry made you wonder if he thought you were mad at him. You shook your head at the question running through your mind. Obviously, he didn’t know what you had been thinking, but you hoped he’d understand somehow.

You helped Enzo and Mattheo pull him to his feet and escort him away from the crowd before any of the professors showed up. Speaking of which, they likely should have been out here by now.

As you helped the boys guide Theo toward the Slytherin common room, you were careful to avoid any obvious eyes that raced past them to see what the aftermath of the commotion was. Hopefully, nobody would notice them and they could deal with the whole situation later. The group turned the corner and stopped before the entrance to the dorm room. Enzo announced the password, and the lot of you headed inside, pulling Theo up the stairs and into the boys’ dorm room. He pulled away from them suddenly and sat on his bed.

“Alright, alright, I’m okay!” he declared. “I just got a sock to the jaw; my legs weren’t broken.”

“They’re just trying to help, Teddy,” you whispered, trying to place the cloth back on his nose that had started up its intermittent spurting again. He sighed and gently grabbed your wrist, holding it away from his face. He was never rough with you, despite how angry he was.

“I’m fine, I’m just wound up, I don’t need any of you to—”

“Nonsense,” you interrupted him. “Mattheo, Enzo, would the two of you mind running down to the hospital wing and asking Madam Pomfrey if she has anything to stop the bleeding. It’s not excessive, but it’s messy.”

“Is there not a spell or something like that?” Mattheo asked, clearly concerned for his friend.

“Not one that I know off the top of my head. Would you just go ask her, please?” you repeated yourself. The two boys seemed to hesitate but eventually worked their way out of the room with their destination in mind. Once they were gone, your eyes turned back to Theo’s. An amused glint lay suspended in his eyes.

“‘Nothing that comes to mind?’” he smirks. “If a spell comes to my mind and not yours, the world must be upside down.” You conceal a laugh. You knew a spell. You knew multiple healing spells, but you wanted Mattheo and Enzo out of the room for a second. You just wanted to speak with Theo about what had happened.

“I’m sorry I lied to your friends,” you said. “But I really wanted to talk with you privately, and I didn’t want to wait.” His eyes keep a tight hold on yours. You swallow thickly.

“Okay, what is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Anxiety pools in your stomach as you realize you hadn’t really planned anything to say. You wanted to know why Theo had done what he did and if it was for or because of you. Cormac had been bothering you, yes, but it could have just been that Theo really disliked him and wanted to intervene.

“Why did you do that?” you ask. Probably the worst way you could have asked that, but it was what came out. You might as well own it at this point.

“Do what?” he mused.

“Why did you stop Cormac?”

“That feels like a dumb question. He was laying his hands on you without your permission.”

“Would you have done that for anyone, though?” you stuttered through your interrogation.

“I suppose not….why do you ask?” he asked, the smirk never leaving his face. Your eyes fell down to his lips suddenly, noticing that there was a small amount of dried blood stained across them. A small gasp left your lips as you reached your hand out. You didn’t think through any of the following movements; you just allowed your body to do as it pleased. Your fingers gently cradled his jaw, and your thumb swiped slowly over his lips, collecting the bit of staining as it crossed. Your eyes found him again, and you realized he was intently watching you. His eyes were softened by hunger. The way they traveled down to your lips, his lips parting as he found yours, his hands clenching by his side. It sent a chill down your spine.

“Theo,” you breathed. You could not pull your eyes away from his swollen lips. You wanted so badly to learn their taste and memorize it for eternity. Just one kiss and you could be satisfied for the rest of your days.

“I kicked Cormac’s ass because he was laying his hands on you, and I have been desperate to do that for years…,” he whispered. “The difference between him and I, though? I ask permission.” A glimpse of a chuckle spreads over his lips, and you feel your stomach blush with heat. As if he could feel it happen to you, his nose bumped softly against yours, igniting the heat and transforming it into a flame.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered, the air skimming your lips. “Please let me have you.”

“Have me, Teddy.” Your response was final. His hands gripped each side of your face firmly and pressed your lips together. Heat and light and everything in between exploded into your stomach, sending shocks of love into your heart. You could have melted on the spot, and you nearly did, if it weren’t for Theo wrapping one arm tightly around your waist and holding you up.

His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You granted him access to every part of you with no push-back. All you wanted was to feel him everywhere and never to lose that feeling ever again.

The both of his hands pushed around the back of your thighs and pulled them to either side of his bent knees. He settled you neatly onto his lap, you straddling his thighs against the bed. The action sent a lightning bolt of pleasure directly to your core as the space between his thighs urged gently against you. You sighed against his mouth, entangling your fingers into his hair.

Everything about him was overwhelming. His smell, his taste, and his touch had you gasping for air. You had never realized how much you truly wanted him until this very moment. Without so much as a breath, he cradled your back with one hand and stood from his bed, lifting the two of you into the air. You squeaked from the sudden movement but relaxed instantly when he settled you against his bed.

His lips detached from yours and quickly made alliance with your jaw and then your neck. His head worked down the frame of your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every sliver of skin he could find. When he reached the waistline of your uniform skirt, he tapped his finger twice against the spot where your shirt was tucked in. You nodded so quickly, it was almost pathetic. He smirked and slipped his hands between the materials. He tugged your shirt out and began laying the same types of kisses over your bare stomach. You groaned at the feeling, noticing the ardor he placed into each press of his lips. You felt worshipped and it was addicting.

His eyes flicked up to find yours as he slowly pushed himself farther down, placing himself just in front of your core. Without question, your legs began to spread for him, allowing him access to anything he wanted. You just needed to feel him; you didn’t care what he did.

Your eyes found his face once more and scanned over the entirety of it. A deep, sinister glance rested in his eyes, holstering a lust so dark, it almost frightened you. His lips were slightly parted in a teasing, smirking way, just waiting to place themselves against you once more. And his nose had…oh, it had begun to bleed again. You reached down and swiped your thumb beneath it, pushing the excess discharge away. A small twinge of guilt hit you again at the thought of Theo getting himself hurt for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, frowning at the sight before you.

“You never have to apologize to me,” he breathed, “you are perfect.” And with that, he’d flipped the edge of your skirt over your legs and sunk his face between them. His tongue found your core before you could even get a word out. A breathless moan spilled from your lips as your spine arched off the bed. Your hands immediately pushed down to wrap themselves in his curls, savoring every single swipe of his tongue.

“So fucking good,” he moaned against you, the vibrations sending messages up to your very brain. You quaked beneath the feeling, your thighs shaking against the boy’s hold on them. It was nearly becoming too much. You weren’t going to last much longer. If he wanted to do something, he’d better get to it.

“Theo, I’m…c—”

“Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing two chaste kisses to the inside of your thighs. You could feel the wetness spread across his lips and chin smear against your flesh. You shuddered at the sensation. It definitely should not have turned you on as much as it just did. “I want it on my tongue.”

He separates himself from you and slides his hands beneath the crook of your knees. With a firm grip, he yanks you to the edge of the bed, where your hips are lying just over the curve. His hands find your hips and flip you over onto your stomach, careful to avoid hurting you in any way. Ever so gentle.

You could hear him kneel down again behind you. Your thighs shook in anticipation just before he pressed his lips back to you. His tongue swirled across you in the most delicate of motions, drawing every sound possible from your lips. Your fingers gripped the sheets as each of his movements drew you closer to the edge. You might finish any second.

“Hey-o!” Mattheo’s voice came from just outside the door. You jumped up and glanced back at Theo as the both of you separated as fast as possible. Theo came up to sit beside you on the bed and made quick work of wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. You pulled your skirt back over your legs and stood at attention, waiting for the two boys to enter. Damn it. You had been so close.

The two boys walked in, clutching a small vial of liquid. Mattheo raised it to show the two of them, both of whom quickly nodded, smiling innocently. Surely, they wouldn’t suspect anything of the two of you. You’d never really expressed any feelings toward the other before now. At least not publicly.

“Where do you want this?” Mattheo asked.

“If you would just take it to the bathroom, we’re headed in there so they can help me clean up the rest of the way.” Both of the other boys nodded and headed back out the way they came, moving toward the group bathroom.

Just as they left, Theo slipped his hand beneath your skirt and traced his fingers along you, allowing one to insert itself to its hilt. You gasped sharply, trying your best to mute the sound. His hand began to pump against you, slowly rising in speed as he hit that perfect spot each time with ease. The sounds spilling from your lips became less and less controlled as he pushed you towards the edge, keeping you standing tall and refusing to let you lay back down on the bed.

“Come like this, baby,” he whispered. “Quickly, before they get back.” His finger pressed deeply up into you one last time, bruising the soft spot and forcing a rushing finish down on you. Your lips parted in a shocked moan as the proof of your end slipped down around Theo’s fingers. He worked you through the entirety of it, never tiring and never halting. He could do this all day.

The sound of his friends heading back toward the dorm room pushed the two of you apart once again. Only this time, Theo had a telling, lustful expression imprinted on his face, and the remains of your ecstasy were still painted across his fingers. You swiped a hand between your thighs in an attempt to clean yourself off and brushed any concerns from Mattheo or Enzo off. The ‘Are you okay?’ and the ‘You guys look weird’ had nothing on the steel resolve the both of you kept planted on your faces. If Theo could fight someone for you, you could fight the urge to tell his friends he’d just let you fuck his face while they were out running an errand. Oh well, such is life. You laughed to yourself.

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #request #cormac mclaggen #fem reader

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bunnliix · 24 days

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Disobedience - Matz x Reader ft. San

The full version of what you can find here!

I technically have more of this to write, but like I kinda lost motivation at the end, so maybe a part two might happen?

Inspo for this is my favorite moot @herarcadewasteland who gave me these amazing ideas for this insane smut.

Pairing: Seonghwa, Hongjoong, & San x reader, Seonghwa x Reader x Hongjoong Summary: You just wanted some attention from your boyfriends. But you went a step too far, and now you're in for it. WC: 1.8k AU: Idol AU Genre: SMUT warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, brat!reader, Hard doms! Matz and San, punishment, cockwarming, degredation, dumbification, restraints (handcuffs), collar and leash, reader gets ignored, tears and crying, edging, voyeurism, reader is a big brat and gets punished for it, hair pulling, reader gets stepped on Nets: @newworldnet Tags: @herarcadewasteland @mingisdoll @bethelighthalazia

You always knew that pissing off either of your boyfriends was never the way to go. It only landed you in huge trouble that left you bruised and sore for days afterwards, but you never learned, always doing it over again. Seonghwa had been practicing a new set of choreographies by himself, as he needed some extra practice, but you wanted his attention, since all of the other boys were busy, including your Joongie. So you tried your best to get him to take a break from practice, even tackling the taller man as he sat on the ground watching a playback of his latest attempt.

That was your mistake, and the last straw for your oldest boyfriend. He growled, sending a shiver up your spine, before he grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him. You sprawled out onto the wood floor, slightly dazed as your hair was still being gripped tightly by your boyfriend. He doesn’t say a word to you, making you realize you’ve fucked up. He pulled you up with him, his hand moving to grab your wrist as he pulled you out of the room, as you almost trip over your own feet trying to keep up. You knew at this point, you were getting punished and not by Hwa, but by Mommy and Joong. You gulped as the reality set in, but you were determined to get what you wanted, attention from your boyfriend, so you doubled down on what you were going to do and say when Seonghwa brought you to your other boyfriend’s studio.

Without knocking on the door, he pushed it open, startling your other boyfriend. Hongjoong took off his headphones, turning to look at the two of you walking in - well Seonghwa walking in and you being dragged behind him. You were thrown to the floor as Seonghwa pushed you down onto your hands and knees, a foot in between your shoulder blades to keep you there. “This lil brat decided to distract me from practice and then tackle me. All because she couldn’t be patient and wait for me to be done so she could get attention.” Seonghwa said, barely opening his mouth in order to get the words out.

Hongjoong quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, she did that, did she? Well, princess, you’re really trying to push our fucking buttons today? First you annoy Hwa enough to make him drag you here, which then makes me have to focus on you, instead of my work that I have to do. All for the sake of a little attention, hmm?” He looked down at you, his stare reminding you of the time he couldn’t find the camera at the MAMA awards, and it sent shivers down your spine, knowing you were really in trouble this time.

But no matter what the smart option would be, you decide to open your mouth and say the one thing that would get you in trouble. “Well I wouldn’t have to do any of those things if either of you would fucking pay attention to me!?” You half yelled at the two, staring Hongjoong directly in the eye.

His glare intensified, raising an eyebrow at your words. “Come here. Now.” He said, his tone betraying nothing.

You expected Seonghwa to lift his foot so you could get up and walk towards your other boyfriend. But he didn’t, keeping his foot firmly on your back.

“Crawl. To. Him. Pet.” Seonghwa said, making sure you heard each word.

You scoffed, turning to look up at him. “How about no. Now let me up.” You retorted.

The captain got out of his chair, heading for one of the shelves in his studio, before grabbing a leash and collar out of one of the baskets in those shelves. He brought it back over to the two of you, putting the collar on you and then attaching the leash, before he leaned back in his chair.

“Now pet, either you crawl to me on your own, or I’ll do it for you, hmm? And don’t think about getting up. I’ll just pull you back down, and Hwa will make sure you stay down.” Hongjoong laid out your options.

You decided to test your luck and try to get up, only for Seonghwa to press you back down onto your hands and knees.

“He said crawl, brat.” And that was all the taller man said to you as he continued to look down at you.

Hongjoong pulled at the leash, making you crawl to him. You tried to crawl as slowly as possible, wanting to rile him up more. When you finally sat in front of him, he looked down at you with a wild grin, and with that, you knew you were fucked.

Seonghwa passed the two of you, sitting down on the couch as you watched him. Your chin was grabbed, and your head was forced to turn back to look at Joong, as he made eye contact with you once again.

“You wanted our attention, hm? Well now you’ve got it. And I don’t think you’ll like what comes next.” He said calmly, but his tone conveyed that he was anything but. “Now are you ready for your punishment, pet?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, not feeling there was anything you needed to be punished for. You wanted their attention, was it so hard for them to give you the attention you needed.

A tug of your collar pulled you back to the present, making you quirk an eyebrow at Hongjoong. He stood up, though his glare at you when you tried to get up made you stay in your place on the floor. He kept a hold on your leash as he moved to open one of the desk drawers, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He walked the few steps back over to you and walked around behind you, squatting down to pull your arms behind your back, a clicking sound notifying that your arms were being restrained.

He pulled you up off of the ground, pushing you towards Seonghwa who was watching the two of you from the couch. You fall into the eldest man’s lap, hearing chuckles above you as your head falls into his chest.

“Awww look at you, falling into my lap like a cute little bunny.” You heard from above your head, before you felt arms pull you properly into his lap. “There we go.”

You look at Hwa, seeing no compassion in his eyes for you at the moment, only looking annoyed at how bratty you’ve been. He quirked an eyebrow at you, before he looked past you at his boyfriend. You can’t see what they’re doing, only knowing that they’re silently talking to each other. Next thing you knew, Seonghwa reached down to unbuckle his pants to reveal his cock, and well, maybe wearing a skirt wasn’t the best option today, since all he had to do was reach under and pull your panties to the side. He did so, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it lightly to get you wet enough, which wasn’t hard. You quickly slicked up enough, and by the time you had, you were well on your way to an orgasm. Just as you were reaching the peak, Seonghwa’s thumb removed itself from your clit.

“I was so close, why’d you stop!” You whined, pouting at your oldest partner.

“Brats don’t get to come. This is a punishment after all.” Seonghwa simply said.

And before you could retort, he lined up his cock with your pussy and pushed into you, leaving you to whimper as you felt the stretch of your walls, head falling down to lean on his shoulder.

“Hwa, please.” You said, slightly begging for some mercy, only to receive a chuckle in return. You tried moving around to make it feel more pleasurable, only for him to tsk at you. He stayed still, looking at you like you bored him.

“You’re not allowed to move, hm. Brats don't get anything. So you're gonna sit here darling, and not move a muscle, and you'll get no stimulation at all from me. You wanted to sit on my cock, well you got your wish. Just not how you expected it, hmm?"

He then picks up his phone from beside him, shifting his attention to that instead. You whine and complain, saying that it’s not fair that he’s not paying any attention to you. He continued ignoring you, with the exception of telling you, without looking your way, that, "The longer you complain, the longer you get nothing."

Hongjoong silently watched the two of you, before he turned back to his own work, which had been rudely interrupted. You whine as you try and get comfortable in your current unfortunate position, unable to get yourself fully comfortable. Unable to turn and see the clock in the room, time felt like it went on forever, and you lost any sense of time. As time passed, you felt yourself get closer and closer to breaking, wanting nothing more than for your two men to touch you. You were almost ready to apologize to them, to beg for them to touch you. Your whines get louder and louder, attracting the attention of the two men, though Hongjoong’s gaze only lingers for a moment or two, before he moves his gaze back to his work. Tears well in your eyes as you feel you can’t take much more of this, and Seonghwa chuckles at seeing the tears in your eyes.

“Hmm, are you giving in that easily darling?” He asks, looking at you finally, as a tear rolls down your cheek.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong was facetime San, needing his help with the guide recording. San answers that he’ll help, but then he hears your whines and whimpers in the background, and this triggers his curiosity. He makes a comment about hearing you in the background, playing the concerned friend who’s just curious.

“If you’re that curious, why don’t you come and see for yourself?” Hongjoong replied to his question.

San quickly nods, hanging up the phone as he heads up from the gym within the company building. You had no idea what had occurred, having no thoughts except that you wanted this torture to end. Tears flowed down your cheeks and falling down onto your shirt, Seonghwa just watching you.

The door opened, and you saw someone walk in from the corner of your eye, and turned your head to see San. He chuckled as he walked over to the couch, looking down at you with a condescending smirk on his face. Stopping next to you and Seonghwa, he raised an eyebrow at your predicament, as you looked up with him, tears still running down your face.

"Aww, what did the dumb baby do this time to get punished?" He asked mockingly.

#ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #newworldnet #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #san x reader #san smut

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #rupert blackthorn #magnus bane #alec lightwood #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #kit herondale #made a change to the ring

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scarrletmoon · 2 months

Text

About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

#scarrlet rambles #powder blue #about powder blue #this is also just a really long about me

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cobaltperun · 4 months

Text

Lost (14) - Collide

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.1k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Where do we go from here when they're tearing down our lives?-

The steaming mug of hot chocolate, a warm blanket, and another night all alone. If only there weren't so many memories tied to this house she would have moved somewhere, at least to an apartment or something. It was just too hard to think of anywhere else as her home. Even now that she had a second chance in you.

In a way, at the very least.

You've said it once, you're not Zack. You're still the only family he had beside her. At least as far as the family that accepted him goes. So, in a way, you were the only living reminder of him. You made her so happy when you visited her. And you brought the most wonderful, loving girl, with you.

Her phone suddenly rang. Maybe it was you, she rarely got calls from anyone else, but you made sure to call every now and then. Then she'd get to talk to you, Tara, and sometimes even Sam. Now that she thought about it, she had an unread message from you, she got it while she was at work and then it slipped her mind to read it later. That was probably why you were calling. So, Susan picked up her phone.

"Hello, Susan," she didn't recognize the voice. Maybe it was one of the patients from the hospital, or a doctor or a nurse she rarely talked to.

"Hello, I'm sorry, but who is this?" she took a sip from her mug, waiting for the answer.

"Oh, no one important. I was actually calling because of Y/N, she told me you are her half-brother's mother and that if anything happened, I could call you," Susan immediately sat up straight at that.

"Did something happen to her?" she wanted to hang up and call you right away.

"Not yet, no, but it could. So, what's your favorite scary movie?" Susan, having read the books after what happened to you, recognized the line. She remembered the state you and Tara were in when you came to her house.

If what she heard was true she was done for. The killer was with her. So, she hung up, quickly opening the messages. She didn't even get to type a single letter before a knife stabbed her back. She cried out, dropping her phone. The piercing of her flesh continued as the figure of a masked monster in black robes came into her line of sight. The stabs would have been enough, but the killer made two deep cuts on the crooks of her arms. She'd bleed out slow enough for it to hurt, but quickly enough so that no one could help her.

And then the monster left her, lying on the floor.

She could barely move her arms, but the adrenaline still pumping through her veins helped her reach the phone. She managed to type exactly three letters as her vision became blurry and hit send. She wouldn't be found until two days later when a neighbor noticed her doors were left wide open.

Thousands of miles away, all the way in New York you were woken up by your phone. You groaned, reaching over to your nightstand, and seeing the message. You smiled. Leave it to Susan to respond with only one word.

"Mhmm, Y/N," Tara hid her face from the light coming from your screen.

"Sorry, Love. It's Susan. I'm guessing she's down to spend Thanksgiving with us," you kissed the top of Tara's head when you felt her smile against your neck. It was Tara's idea, really. So, you went and invited Susan to spend a week in New York, since you hadn't seen each other ever since you came to New York.

Her response? Fun. You figured that was a 'yes' and sent her a thumbs up, which she immediately read. No response came, but you expected that. You'd just call her after you figure out a proper plan for that week. Which would have to wait, because you had another exhausting week ahead of you.

~X~

Nine, god damn, hours. You felt like you were just about ready to kick Thomas' ass for just dropping a two-week-long vacation on you out of the blue. If only it was your vacation.

So, instead of canceling his classes you were replacing him. Instead of doing the morning sessions and the second afternoon training session, which would mean 4 and a half hours at the gym, you were stuck with Thomas' sessions as well. Which basically meant you were at the gym from 6:45 am to 10:15 a.m., then again from 11:45 a.m. to 3:15 p.m., and finally from 4:45 to 8:15 p.m. So, nine hours of training people and an hour and a half to keep the gym running. By the time you came home after the third training session, you were too exhausted to do anything.

Tara hated it even more than you did. You tried, you really did, you'd go back home after each double training session, and you'd buy flowers, things like that, but it didn't help much. You loved how needy Tara was, how she wanted to spend time with you, to be held by you. Right now, her neediness proved to be a double-edged sword.

You tried to watch a movie with her, but you fell asleep. Tara understood that. She did not understand how you fell asleep last night while she kissed your neck. She wouldn't even look at you, or speak to you when you dropped by after morning sessions.

That's how you ended up right where you were now. Waiting for Sam, because you had a feeling it would be better if Sam was with you when you came home. You couldn't be more thankful when she came out of the therapy much sooner than she was supposed to.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," you greeted the moment Sam got into the passenger seat. Then you noticed the look on her face, that defeated look that told you she opened up a bit and it didn't go well. "Rough therapy?"

Sam looked at you, her eyes softening as she noticed just how tired you looked. "Rough day?"

You turned the engine on, loving the way the car came to life. "You have no idea," you sighed, just ready to get home, take the coldest shower possible to keep yourself awake, and hopefully make up for the last night's inability to stay awake. At least driving wasn't an issue. You never bothered to seek an explanation, but whenever you were driving you were completely awake, no matter how little sleep you had, or how tired you were. Step out of the car, sleepy, behind the wheel, completely awake.

"Tara?" Sam guessed, though that probably wasn't difficult, you saw how cranky Tara was this morning. Sam must have seen it as well.

"Uh... let's just say I fell asleep when I shouldn't have," you blushed, hoping that Sam wouldn't question it further.

"You've been exhausted ever since Thomas left, I'm sure Tara understands that," Sam did not avoid further questioning.

"Yeah, not when you fall asleep while your girlfriend is kissing your neck," you grumbled through clenched teeth. You didn't need to turn to look at Sam, you could feel the incredulous look on her face. In your defense, Tara was warm, and lying on top of you, and you were tired, and the kisses felt really comforting and good. Comfy and sleepy was a combination not even you could beat.

Sam suddenly began stifling a laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just funny," well, you'd probably laugh about it once Tara gets over it. "You two will be fine, Tara just misses you, you know?"

You nodded, not taking your eyes off the road. "I know, Sam, I miss her too," you couldn't help but smile, it was just a small lover quarrel, not even that, really, since you didn't have the capacity to participate.

"I have an idea," you were vaguely aware of Sam pulling out her phone. Was she calling Tara? Probably.

No one answered though and you were suddenly reminded of what happened roughly four months ago.

"You know you're supposed to pick up when I call," Sam's concerned voice made you even more worried. "I got out of therapy early and Y/N is driving me back home. I was thinking we could cook dinner tonight. I mean, if that's what you'd like," she left the message and sighed.

"She probably, ah, I don't even know, maybe her phone is charging?" you were grasping at straws, but you weren't ready to think of the other options just yet.

"Or she's at a party, Omega something," Sam buried her face in her hands, trying her best to not get frustrated right away.

"What party?" shit, you were starting to think falling asleep last night was the worst possible timing, ever.

"There's a frat party tonight, she really wanted to go, but I begged her not to," the arrangement you and Sam managed to get Tara to agree to, remained unspoken.

After Tara first disappeared and went to a party the three of you came to an agreement. She could have her parties, as long as you or Sam were with her. Mindy or Chad wouldn’t do, Tara refused to listen to them, she refused to stop unless you or Sam made her stop, and as worried about Tara as they were, they didn’t exactly want to go to parties to babysit her. You wouldn't stop her from having fun or drinking until she reached a very specific point between drunk and no longer aware of what was happening.

You hated just watching over her, but you tried to step in sooner exactly one time before she got drunk. The next time there was a party Tara went and disappeared again, so you just figured it was better to stay by her side and make sure she was fine than to drive around the whole damn city looking for her.

"I don't know how to reach her, Sam," the mental toll of watching Tara cope in one of the worst ways possible was slowly getting to you. You'd do anything to get her to stop drinking like that, but she just wouldn't listen to you. "Should I just drive straight to that party?"

Sam thought it over. "Let's check if she's home first."

You both knew it was extremely unlikely, but you still hoped.

You hoped even as Sam unlocked the apartment, but you couldn't hope once it was clear Tara wasn't there. You leaned against the wall, completely awake now. "She didn't even bring her taser," you pointed out, huffing as you began pacing the apartment. You knew you should already be heading out to find Tara, but you just needed a moment.

"I'll go get her, rest for a bit," you wanted to argue when Sam said that, but honestly, you just felt relief. "I'll call you if she's not at that party."

"Thanks," you just let her, not sure how drunk Tara would be, or if you were ready for another hunt all over New York, so if you could delay it even for ten or fifteen minutes, you'd accept that opportunity.

"How the fuck am I supposed to help you, Tara?" you leaned back against the sofa, letting your eyes close just for a moment. The next time you opened your eyes it was because of your phone ringing. "Did you find her?" you immediately got up, ready to get the car keys if Sam didn't find Tara.

"I did. She's pissed though, she should be at the apartment in a minute or two," Sam warned you.

"She's pissed? Brilliant! Just perfect!" you hung up just as you yanked the doors open and saw Tara climbing up the stairs.

"Don't you even start!" she yelled the moment she saw your mouth opening.

You felt really close to snapping as you stepped outside the apartment to meet Tara. "Oh, I'm sorry, did your party get interrupted?"

You could see she was going to walk by you and get inside, but the mocking in your tone made her halt right next to you. "It did! And you know what? I was about to hook up with a guy!" if you were any less tired, any more attentive to the way her eyes immediately filled with regret when she said that, then maybe you would have been able to control your temper.

Not tonight though. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time you were with someone while loving me, now, would it?!"

Tara recoiled as if you slapped her. "Do not bring Amber into this, Y/N!"

"Hey, come on, this isn't like you," Chad tried to get between you two.

"Stay out of this," you warned, but Tara was already heading inside.

"No need! We're done talking!" she yelled while marching to your room.

"Oh, no, not this time, Tara!" you went after her, catching the doors just as she was about to slam them shut.

"What do you want, Y/N?! I'm living my life, you hear me?! it's mine, not ours!" she screamed, pushing her finger into your chest. "You're possessive, you won't let me go to any party alone; you've become even more controlling than Amber!"

You threw your hands up in the air, just for a moment looking anywhere but at Tara. "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you had an ounce of self-control! Or do I need to remind you how I found you the two times you were at a party on your own?!"

"What of it? I ended up in a bad place twice, and? Surely, I've run out of all the awful things that can happen to me by now!" she was having difficulty breathing and the red haze that had overcome you faded away.

"And if you haven't? If someone takes advantage of how drunk you are?" you stopped shouting, even though some of the anger was still there.

Tara just shrugged. "Add it to the list, I guess," you stepped away from her and went outside the room. "Y/N!" she gasped your name but didn't come after you, a coughing fit kept her in place.

You came back to the room, unpacking the inhaler you got a few days ago. "Your current one ran out, right?" you pulled her down to sit next to you and brought the inhaler to her mouth. "I can't, Tara, I can't take it if something happens to you again," you could only hope she would finally hear you. Judging by the way she clung to you, gripping your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, a tiny bit of you hoped she would hear you.

"You're not angry with me?" she asked, tired of shouting as well, tired of being angry, of not having you around since you started covering Thomas’ part of the training.

You almost told a lie. "I am, but I'm more worried about you than I'm angry at you," especially when her asthma gets triggered. At that point, any argument can wait and you guessed those pauses also made both of you calm down.

"I wasn't really going to hook up with anyone. I just wanted, I don't even know what I wanted. To make you angry, or to hurt you, I guess? I regretted it the moment I said it," she confessed, tentatively climbing into your lap for comfort.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension between you two dissipating with every moment.

"I'm not messed up," she whispered into your ear, the desire to continue what she started last night evident in her eyes, but you shook your head.

"No, you are. You are still drunk," you weren't about to do anything with Tara while she was even slightly drunk.

Tara responded with a huff and pulled back from you as much as she could while still sitting on your lap. "Fine, fine," she knew better than to argue with you on that.

A knock on the doors caught your attention and Tara got off your lap so you could go and open the doors.

"Oh, thank God you're not fighting anymore," Anika said as soon as she noticed neither one of you was frowning.

"Told you love birds would be fine," Mindy patted her on the back.

Chad coughed. "More important things people," he reminded the two and you tilted your head to the side. "You need to see this," he pointed toward the TV and you felt a shiver run down your spine due to the worried look on his face.

You couldn't believe the nightmare was starting again. Someone was brutally stabbed and a Ghostface mask was found at the scene of the crime. Even worse than that Mindy recognized the names and from the look on Tara's face so did she.

"You know them?" you asked as you sat down next to her.

"Barely, not that it matters, this isn't about us," you could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that it actually was about all of you.

That's when Sam came in, followed by a guy you came across every now and then. Danny? Tara thought something was going on between Sam and him, but she didn't have proof and you weren't about to ask Sam if she wasn't going to talk.

The moment Sam figured out what was going on it was like someone flipped a switch. "Pack a bag, we leave in ten," you and Tara just looked at each other.

"Sam! Wait, Sam!" Tara went after her into the kitchen.

"We're leaving town," Sam ordered, not even for a moment considering Tara's objection.

You walked in, hugging Tara around her waist from behind to calm her down, she just had an asthma attack and you wanted her to feel safe. "Sam, you know running away didn't work last time," sure, you came back to Woodsboro willingly, but Amber and Richie were going to use Chad, Mindy, and Liv as bait anyway.

"It'll work this time," Sam picked up the biggest knife you had and went back to the living room.

Tara got out of your hug but began holding your hand. "Hold on, let's talk for a second. 'Cause this might not have anything to do with us," Tara followed after Sam, trying to reason with her.

"Are you serious?" Sam demanded, finally turning to look at Tara.

"It's a big city! It's Halloween. Everybody's wearing masks! You don't know-"

"Tara! Tara, this isn't a coincidence! You knew him!" Sam interrupted.

"Barely," Tara leaned back into you, prompting you to once again place your arms around her waist.

"Chad, Mindy, back me up," Sam turned to the twins.

"I mean it is a bit..." the expression on Chad's face showed he agreed with Sam.

"Too close to home," Mindy basically finished for him.

"Sam, we finally got our lives together here," you took Tara’s side, yes there were issues, yes, Tara wasn't handling things properly, but you were building something here.

"We'll do that again, somewhere safer," Sam assured you, not even wasting a second to push back against any arguments in favor of staying.

"So, you're just making the unilateral decision to abandon my and Y/N's college education and flee the fucking state!" Tara clenched her fingers around your hands. The weaker grip in her left hand nearly made you reconsider.

"Y/N," Sam turned to you, looking for support. "Please don't take Tara's side just because it's Tara."

You shook your head. "Sam, I'm not going to run every time there's a hint of danger. If we do that we'll always be on the run, I won't live like that and if Tara doesn't want that-"

"Which I don't," Tara quickly chimed in.

"Then I won't let you force her to live like that," you could feel Tara's anxiety rising as Sam remained silent.

And then the phone rang, and Tara nearly jumped in your arms. She wasn't the only one affected, everyone was put on edge by Sam's phone ringing.

Sam went over to the phone and rejected the call. "It was Gale," she said, which wasn't a good sign. Especially since Gale's book didn't exactly make any of you the fans of the reporter.

"Why did everyone freak out when her phone rang?" you almost forgot Ethan was there.

"You gotta keep up, my dude," Anika just told him.

Sam's phone rang again, this time from an unknown caller, and though anxiously she still picked up. "Yes?"

There was a pause for a few moments. "Yes, it's me," Sam replied to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Okay, okay, I'll come," she hung up. "It's the police, they want me to come down to the station," she didn't waste a moment and picked her jacket up to leave.

Tara just looked at you. There was no need to talk, you grabbed your jackets and you turned to Chad. "You guys be careful," you went after Tara, grabbing the keys on the way. You considered driving, but the police station wasn't that far and it was late, it was Halloween and people were partying, so maybe walking was a better option.

You caught up with Tara at the bottom of the stairs and she gave you a quick, though a bit uncertain, smile. "We'll be fine, Love," you quickly leaned down to kiss the top of her head and then she led you outside, after Sam.

"Sam, slow down," Tara called after her sister.

"Tara, no, get back inside, lock the doors," Sam immediately rejected the idea of Tara coming with her.

"Are you serious? Now you don't want to stick together? Besides, I have Y/N," and both you and Sam knew Tara would feel better if you were there for both her and Sam.

"You heard the boss, Sam, don't fight this," you offered Sam a cheeky smile and she just shook her head.

"Fine, let's go."

~X~

You were about ten minutes away from the station when Sam's phone rang again and you saw that the caller was... Richie?

"The fuck?" Tara said exactly what you thought.

"I never deleted his contact," you raised an eyebrow at that. Really, Sam? "This is coming from his number."

"Don't pick that up," Tara told her, but you were already tuning the conversation out, instead looking around the three of you.

Whoever was behind this now couldn't appear out of nowhere. You couldn't see anything suspicious behind you, but you felt Tara quickly grabbing onto your forearm. You turned around and saw a man approaching, holding a phone, so you stepped in front of Tara and Sam, ready to act the moment he made any move.

There was no need for that, the man just walked by the three of you.

The police sirens put you on edge as you made sure Tara was close to you.

"You shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, asshole," just as Sam said it you noticed a movement to your right.

And there it was. The familiar robe and mask coming almost out of nowhere, hidden by the darkness. You pushed Tara toward Sam and stepped between the two and the reoccurring nightmare. You did a quick jab followed by a hook, sending the figure into the bicycles behind him.

Something felt wrong. He fell too easily. As if he decided to fall. "Run!" you ushered Tara and Sam, not that you needed to as Sam was already getting Tara away from the could-have-been fight.

You turned back when you caught up to them, to see the Ghostface chasing after you.

"Y/N?!" you saw fear in Tara's eyes, the confusion caused by you of all people running.

"Something's different! I don't know what, but it just feels wrong!" you liked to think years of fighting gave you a good sense of what someone can and can't do in a fight and you didn't like one bit what happened right there.

Your words only increased Tara's fear. "Help! Please!" She cried out, hoping maybe someone would hear her.

"In there!" Sam pointed at a bodega just around the corner.

The three of you ran in, with Tara and Sam cutting the line and pleading for the clerk to call the police. You just stood with your back behind them, waiting for Ghostface. You saw him at the door, looking much bigger than you. Tara, probably still thinking about what you just told her, grabbed onto your forearm, and tried to pull you back. "Please, Y/N," you glanced back, seeing the fear in her eyes. That one moment was enough for everything to go wrong. Ghostface quickly killed two men, tossing them aside and advancing toward the three of you.

"Sam! Don't!" judging by Tara's screams you figured Sam was pulling her back.

You relaxed, easily shifting into a fighting stance. As wrong as it felt, you knew there wasn't a way out without a fight. Besides, if you could end this now, you'd have only one more Ghostface to worry about.

"Hey!" the man working at the bodega shouted and raised a shotgun, firing it at Ghostface. As the Ghostface vanished behind the shelves you couldn't help but wonder why the man didn't just shoot first. You know, without warning the clearly armed and dangerous masked individual.

"Go out the back!" he told the three of you.

Well, you weren't about to waste that.

"Thank you!" Tara said, but as the three of you got to the back doors you realized it was locked. "Shit! Keys! We need your keys!"

The man turned to give them to her and Ghostface took his chance. Stabbing the man and taking the shotgun, shooting the man that tried to help you.

The three of you ducked behind shelves and you glanced at Tara. You've fought Ghostface before. You were afraid before. But back then you were afraid for Tara. Now you were afraid of the killer. There was nothing you could do against a shotgun. There was no way you could get shot and survive, let alone continue fighting. There was no way Tara or Sam would survive and just for a moment, between fight, flight, or freeze, your body chose to freeze.

Ghostface shot the freezers behind you, shattering the glass. Sam began moving again, trying to crawl to safety, trying desperately to keep Tara alive. Tara, however, wouldn't move an inch without you.

Another shot knocked a bunch of cans down, halting your escape and making Tara squeeze your hand. That snapped you out of it and you pulled the two of them back toward freezers. From the looks of it, you did that just in time as Ghostface came to the side you were on mere moments ago. You looked at Tara and moved, staying crouched as you moved toward Ghostface. You'd go around the shelves and try to take him down from behind.

Your heart hammered in your chest when you turned around the corner and saw a shotgun right in front of your face. You weren't fast enough to get it out of the way, no, you were allowed to grab it and lift it up. "Run!" the last time you screamed as loud as you just did Amber was holding Tara at gunpoint.

"Y/N!" Tara screamed your name, but you didn't look at her, you looked at Sam.

"Take Tara and run, damn it!" you yelled, pushing the shotgun up to make sure Ghotface couldn't shoot any of you. You couldn't focus on anything else, not on the screaming or Sam's frantic attempts to get Tara out of bodega, you could only focus on the fight. You felt a small sense of relief, knowing that as long as you kept holding the shotgun Ghostface wouldn't be able to let go of it either.

The moment you vaguely heard the doors opening you yanked the shotgun down and kneed the man in his stomach. There wasn't even a grunt, but he tossed the shotgun away so that neither of you could use it. You let him, using the small opening to land an uppercut to the jaw, followed by several hard and fast punches to the face. You pushed him into the counter, continuing the assault. It felt wrong. It felt like your punches barely affected him. He was moving, reacting to your punches, but it was too much, it was as if he was moving on his own, and not due to your hits.

A hard hit to the side knocked all the air from your lungs and he easily pushed you back. He slammed his shoulder into you, taking you to the ground. You gasped for air, barely having time to put up a guard before a fist could connect with your face. You recognized this feeling all too well. You were in this exact position plenty of times. You raised your elbow, hitting his jaw and getting up just enough to put him in a chokehold.

Another hit to the side nearly made you let him go, but you squeezed harder, trying to find a way to snap his neck despite the mask. The third hit to the side loosened your hold enough for him to get on his feet and slam you back down on the ground. You felt like everything was spinning as he repeated the same motion again. Lifting your entire body up and slamming it back down on the hard floor. By now you were too shaken to even hold onto him.

And then you went flying, right through the glass and onto the pavement.

"Y/N!" that was Tara's voice. Shit. She didn't get far enough.

"Run, you idiot," you wheezed as you rolled over, trying to get on your hands and knees. The police arriving saved your life.

Tara was immediately with you, yet you barely heard her saying your name, you barely felt her worried touch. A single thought went through your mind as the police officers scattered around the perimeter and all you could see was a mask on the store's floor. 'I can't beat him.'

A/N: Scream 6 starts! Nothing to say here. Thank you for reading! Updated on: 30.03.2024.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #scream #sam carpenter #jenna ortega x reader

201 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year

Note

what if priestrry has ppl over for prayer and yn is there too (bc she can be now since no one knows her really) and he accidentally slips and says something to her like “pet” or “good girl”

how would they play it off? they can’t be perfectly on their game all the time 😬

priest!harry x reader

Summary: Harry slips up and calls Y/n a good girl in front of people in their prayer group.

A/n: Sorry for the delay in updating! Enjoy my two favorite characters! 1.5k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious themes, mentions of come, eludes to smut and other sexual acts, masturbation

priestrry masterlist | Forgive Me, Father

Y/n was running around helping Harry set up for the prayer meeting. A small group of people were coming over as a last-minute sort of thing. In fact, it was so last minute that Harry was in the middle of coming on Y/n’s tits as she was kneeling in front of him with her tongue out, hoping to catch some of him in her mouth, when he got a phone call as a reminder. He’d forgotten. So it wasn’t really a last-minute thing, as much as he’d lost track of the day and hadn’t told Y/n.

Harry freshened himself up quickly and pulled out his study materials as Y/n rushed into the bathroom to wipe his come from her body before starting a pot of coffee. She placed the chairs in the living area and put her leash away back into their bedroom before scampering into the kitchen to pull out mugs with the cream and sugar bowls. Harry looked up from his notebook to see his little pet fluffing the pillows in a hurry, still nude, goosebumps on her thighs and bottom.

He came up behind her and gently pulled her to stand upright and face him. She turned to look up at him as he silently unbuckled her red leather collar, keeping the dainty gold chain with the ‘H’ charm on her neck. Putting her collar into her hand he smirked at her, “Go get some clothes on, my love. You look cold.”

“Yes, Father.”

She smiled to herself as she walked into their bedroom. He was so dominant but in the way that always made her heart race. She couldn’t wait until everyone left after because he promised her something very special before she watched him pump his cock until he was coming over her chest. She loved watching his hand stroke his thick shaft as he released on her because it was just the beginning of what was to come for the night. She loved being his good girl, being patient for him, being edged until it was her turn to come. Until he allowed it. She loved him.

Slipping on a dress over her head and slipping a pair of panties over her hips she fluffed out her hair, slid on her sneakers, and got back to setting up the living room for the guests. Though they wouldn’t know she was the one who’d set everything up but she loved the secret. Loved the surreptitiousness of their relationship.

She kissed his cheek and picked up her Bible, “Love you, Father. I’ll wait outside.”

This was the routine. If there was a prayer meeting she couldn’t always be the first person to arrive. That could become suspicious. Once in a while, it could slide, but every time? So she’d wait around the back of the house until a couple of people had arrived first.

This time it was Mr. & Mrs. Jeralds who arrived first. They were a nice young couple. Always eager. Mrs. Jeralds seemed to really take a liking to Y/n.

Harry greeted his guests with a warm smile and a hug, offering coffee and tea. Y/n walked through the door moments later with her Bible held up over her chest and a big smile.

“Hi, Father. Thank you so much for inviting me,” she said as he gave her a side hug and she sat down next to Mrs. Jeralds.

“Would you like tea? Or coffee?” Harry asked her and then licked his lips.

She tried not to watch his pretty mouth as he spoke but she really had to concentrate hard, “Oh, a tea is fine. Thank you!”

Harry poured hot water into a mug and gave her a tea bag.

As the deacon walked in, Mrs. Jeralds nudged at Y/n, “So, I’ve been thinking… my cousin Austin will be coming to service this week. I would love for you to meet him. He’s an accounting manager at Debrille downtown. Good head on his shoulders. I think you two would really get along.”

Y/n raised her brows and smiled. She wasn’t interested, obviously, but she played along, “Oh that’s lovely. I’d like to meet him. How thoughtful of you.”

Harry sat down next to Mr. Jeralds, “Meet who?”

“Oh, Judy’s trying to get her cousin set up with a nice girl. He’s been single too long for her liking-”

“Jim! That’s not true!” She sputtered and looked from Y/n to Harry and then her husband, “I just think that they’d get along nicely…” She looked back to Y/n, “… and Y/n’s single! Maybe it’ll be a good match.”

Harry’s severe gaze met Y/n’s and she saw him clench his jaw. Of course, she knew that he knew there wasn’t a thing to worry about. But the way he was looking at her told her he wasn’t a fan of the conversation.

After the rest of the guests arrived and were given mugs of warm beverages they went around the circle and spoke about things that had burdened them that week and what they’d like to pray about or have the group pray for over them.

The hour always went by quickly but on this night, Y/n was especially excited for what was to come as they’d been interrupted before Harry could make good on his promise. She was almost shaky in anticipation. Slowly growing wet as she listened to him pray. She knew she should behave and pay attention but his voice alone she could get off to.

She had gotten off to it too. Like when he’d make her masturbate for him. He’d tell her what to do and where to touch herself and then praise her the wetter she got. He’d have her blindfolded so she couldn’t see him as he guided her to orgasm with his dark baritone.

When the last ‘Amen’ was spoken the deacon stood up and shook Harry’s hand, “I have to run, Father. Thank you so much!”

The last of the guests stayed and chatted for a bit as Y/n helped put the mugs away into the kitchen and Mrs. Jeralds washed them. She brought up Austin again but Y/n just smiled and nodded. She didn’t want to be rude but there was no way in hell Y/n would be going to lunch with them after service to get to know her cousin. Sometimes she wished she could just tell everyone that she was already taken. That the man of her dreams, the love of her life was gorgeous and tall and funny, and smart and he loved her with everything in him and she would never find that kind of love anywhere else.

But she had to pretend she was single and not interested. Which, the result of her secret was that she had Harry. Very much worth it.

Mrs. Jeralds went back into the living to get her things to leave when Harry walked into the kitchen just as Y/n was putting the last mug into the cupboard.

Harry looked behind him to make sure no one was in earshot and getting behind Y/n he spoke quietly, “Once they’re gone I need this off of you,” he plucked at the material near her waist.

Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and smiled, “Of course, Father. Anything you want.”

Harry looked down over her pretty face and to her neck. He loved seeing the small bruises there. Usually from his mouth. And in an action totally out of character when he was in the presence of others, he brought his hand up to her neck and brushed his fingers over the small bruise as she kept her eyes on him.

“Good girl.”

A throat cleared behind the pair causing them both to turn abruptly.

“We were just going to say our goodbyes. It was a wonderful meeting as always, Father,” Mr. Jeralds spoke as he looked at Harry. Mrs. Jeralds was looking at Y/n.

And neither could quite tell if they’d been caught or not. Had they heard him call her a good girl? Had they seen him touch her neck?

“Oh yeah! I should go as well!” Y/n moved away from Harry toward the living room to grab her purse. Her heart was pounding and she hoped they didn’t notice anything but the expression on Mrs. Jeralds face was concerning. Or perhaps it was just Y/n being paranoid (for good reason).

She waved goodbye, rushing out before the Jeralds could exit, and ran to the side of the house. She knew she should calm down but her nerves were getting the best of her. As her mind went over every possible outcome she heard the Jeralds leaving the house and Harry saying goodbye. She waited until their car drove off and down the street before peeking around the front and looked up at the porch to see Harry standing there with his hands on his hips looking right at her.

“Come on. Coast is clear.”

When Harry locked the front door behind them Y/n spoke finally, “Do you think that-“

Harry put his hand on hers, “I hope not. But they didn’t say anything. Nothing we can do about that now.”

“But what does that mean? What if-“

“Pet,” Harry spoke softly bringing his hand up to her face, his thumb at her cheekbone, “I said there’s nothing we can do about it. Now be a good girl for me and take your clothes off.”

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ihopeinevergetsoberr · 3 months

Text

the counterpart

• chapter 1 — a welcome threatening stir

rating: explicit. please don’t skip straight to the (future) smut parts though, i’m currently teaching myself how to play chess just for this fic /hj

word count: 4,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of ‘y/n’)

cw: alcohol, occasional cussing, reader is a smoker (she plays chess and lives in the 90s, how do you expect her to have healthy lungs in these conditions?). a LOT of tension, viktor is a certified brat tamer. i think that’s it — please come yell at me if i missed anything. basically just a silly little chess rivals (sort of) au.

i am finally writing this multichapter and i hope it will be a fun read for you and an excellent torture for me. i have a vision but i don’t know how to make shit perfectly executed. we’ll see how this goes. an ao3 link will be added later. any feedback is highly appreciated.

part 2

⸻

You weren’t obsessed with him.

With the way his tongue would click against his teeth so astutely irritating — a gesture you grew to define as some brief foreplay before said appendage touched his palate precisely one tortuous time, whispering a victorious ‘check’. With a crease dissecting his forehead — a rare occasion you managed to grasp only twice: the first time being your failed attempt to capture his queen, and the second — a recent one, at that — being a foolish way you’ve lost a freshly converted into a rook pawn: concurrently the most humiliating way to jeopardize an intellectual sparring.

You weren’t obsessed with his bizarre contemplative humming, nor with his Czech last name — needless to mention the disheveled mayhem of dark hair: Viktor was just a mere enigma you fancied to occasionally demerge — sneakily, patiently, with a positive passion to it. Habitually in a private ambiance of either his or your dorm room, though actually more commonly his — something about it simply screamed peace, as contradictory as that sounds. Sweetly quiet, relatively neat, with a never properly made bed being the only truly concerning mess in it.

That apartment was the embodiment of a grandmaster’s mind, and it certainly had all the chances of belonging to one at some point: if only he kept up with the meticulous tactics you were (secretly) so jealous about.

“Envy is a waste of time,” he unkindly reminded you one particularly languid evening, “you should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.”

That reproach got into your ambitious head. Call it a reality check or a simple first impression — since that encounter was also the first one you two had ever shared.

Though could someone really blame you? You didn’t need humbling. Well, not any more of that crude one, at the very least — a local college chess club had more than enough of it to offer. You could consume their disdain for weeks and it still wouldn’t make them run out of it — they had plenty in stock specifically for women. That much was obvious the second you appeared before those arrogant, prejudiced fools. You stepped in there innocently hoping to enroll, but stormed off with a genuine intention to commit homicide — a manslaughter, to be precise, and god weren’t you going to be merciful.

‘You can’t enroll without a rating,’ hissed that bespectacled, caricaturely tall boy — all heavily starched collar, stupid chequered tie and a handful of dirty blonde hair plastered across his forehead.

Bullshit, you thought, gathering every last ounce of your forced politeness, who needs a rating to enroll into a college fucking chess club?

‘We don’t accept amateurs,’ assented his not any less grimy interlocutor, his expression a tad bit more bearable. ‘Please, leave,’ he demanded, lancing your face with his hostile eyes.

Well, it’s a good thing you accept ill-mannered bastards, you almost muttered, fists clenching hard into a white-knuckled disaster.

And perhaps you were even willing to negotiate, to have their best players all lined up in front of you — each waiting for a turn to be relentlessly put in his place by you; and you would certainly show them — quick, efficient and contemplative. You would force them into submission — professionally so, in a way that would make them all wonder whether the next Judit Poglar herself has decided to bless them with her presence.

Because, sure; you were certainly many things — an excellent mind, a trickster, a fanatic, but that list never included an amateur. The mere fact someone even dared to insult you in such a way — and without even sparing you one game of chess — was, frankly, deeply humiliating.

So you decided to let your pride win. Walked out of that damned club with an ostentatious huff, heels clacking loud enough to muffle their demeaningly misogynistic brouhaha — a tacit protest, an addendum to your passive-aggressive ‘good luck, gentlemen’.

They didn’t want you — fine, whatever, you didn’t want them either. You’ll find yourself a counterpart soon — not any less intelligent, and, most importantly, a respectful one. They’ll come crawling back to you once you gain a rating, mourning their loss and pathetically begging for sweet mercy. You could already imagine the holes rubbed through the nice fabric of their dress pants from all the kneeling you’ll make them do.

Besides, Jayce had already promised to introduce you to someone decent. ‘He’s sweet,’ he assured you, a friendly arm wrapped around your tense shoulder. ‘Incredibly smart,’ he proceeded with his wholehearted praise, proud grin so wide the corners of his mouth were definitely hurting. ‘Somewhat awkward,’ he mused, raising one eyebrow in consideration, ‘though I’m not entirely sure it’s awkwardness, per se, Viktor is simply… pensive.’

Viktor. Your eyes squeezed shut, offering the restless imagination a brief opportunity to brainstorm. A competent, pensive and sweet chess lover: what would his temper turn out to be like? Does he have a rating yet? What if he’s already playing professionally? Perhaps he even has a title?

Jayce’s next comment didn’t offer you much help though.

‘He’s handsome too,’ he whispered, a shit-eating smirk wiped instantly off his pleased physiognomy. Elbows become offensive weapons between the ribs of unfortunate matchmakers, you see.

Either way: the deal was sealed. You were going to meet Viktor the next chance you get, and Jayce’s upcoming birthday has provided you with precisely that convenience.

It still happened rather spontaneously — you can’t mentally prepare yourself for an encounter you don’t quite know what to expect of. Sure, Jayce’s complaisant flattery was still at your service — a source not exactly reliable, yet somewhat welcomed nonetheless: though only because you lacked any other information about this Viktor persona.

But you decided not to upset a dear friend on his birthday. Acting like Jayce was bearable to be around was a part of your gift, after all.

Unfortunately, the fact he was born on an awfully steamy July day wasn’t helping you accomplish that; you squinted, drowning a glass of that disgustingly warm bourbon, a couple of melted ice cubes in it slightly diluting the once-rich taste of liquor. The man of the hour had quickly dissolved into a mess of infuriatingly noisy people after only reserving you a quick hello, shiny eyes already evidently tipsy — either from all the attention or the contentious quality of the booze this bar had to offer.

You didn’t dare to complain. The tab was on a birthday boy, and you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Knew better, yet still stared right at Jayce’s laughing physiognomy, grin so blindingly toothy it had you regretting ever sojourning this feast of life. Not that you had anything against attending birthday celebrations; but a cramped bar, a cheap drink and not a single minute spent with a man you came here for weren’t exactly your ideal perception of said… festivity. Not to mention that Viktor was terribly late — though your darling mutual acquaintance was in no state to properly introduce you to him anyway. You slipped out of your bar stool, rubbing an erratic little pattern into the weary skin of each heavy eyelid — but the sleepiness didn’t magically dissolve under the persistent pressure of your fingers. If there existed a thing you hated more than cocky men and bad booze — then it certainly had to be feeling hot, and this awful place has kindly reminded you of precisely that long forgotten loathing; air so sticky it was melting your brain into a tired, dysfunctional mush.

Somehow you managed to find an exit before the headache became borderline unbearable, letting the evening greet you with a chilly slap on precisely that slick place where a damp blouse kept clinging onto your sweaty back. Summer sure was relentless this year — the outdoors didn’t offer you much of that crispy gentle breeze, but it was still not nearly as suffocatingly hot as inside that grimy shelter for drunks.

Shaky hands slid inside the pocket of your pants, fumbling frantically with the contents of it: glistening candy wrappers, ringing keys and a handful of coins. Took you long enough to finally feel the shape of an old lighter, the spark wheel of it so terribly rusty the callus on your thumb started stinging as soon as you laid it on that rough little bump.

With a sigh, you fetched a folded pack of Camel out of the same stuffed sack, the state of said poor thing utterly matching its owner’s — all ruffled, messy, with the bottom of it barely still intact. Well, fine, perhaps that last trait was not precisely pertinent to you, but your rear was hurting quite palpably after an hour spent sitting on that awfully uncomfortable stool — which meant that relating to your poor box of cancer sticks was inevitable.

The spark wheel gave in after a few insistent pushes, and within seconds you were taking your first greedy drag, back pressed tightly against the cool wall; providing you a much needed support for taming a headache with a smoke break that would undoubtedly cause a new one in an instant. The filth filled your lungs with sweet relief, and you let the sedation run slowly through your veins, squeezing the filter in an affectionate little embrace of trembling index and middle fingers.

And then your private moment was ruined. But not abruptly in the slightest, with just one simple call of your name – the most careful of all interventions, surprisingly quizzical and polite, heavily accented at the edge of the very last syllable. Still had you choking ungracefully on your tiny nicotine snack, filling the silence with awfully inelegant coughing.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” spoke your pensive intruder, causing you to sharply turn around, back clinging off the wall in one unsubtle movement.

That’s how all meaningful formal meetings happen. Unfailingly when you least expect them, or, even worse — when you stop expecting them at all, with every thought banished from your utterly relaxed mind. They sneak up on you under shitty bars, giving you a slight vertigo and then offering a polite smile to make amends, gripping the handles of their canes with pent up awkwardness. And god were they peculiar intrusions — matching your silly, much too improper manner to wear corporate clothes for a night out, with just a few buttons of their tight vest undone; limbs lanky, but not inept, eyes brimming with pretty copper right onto your astonished frame. Made you randomly embarrassed about your chipped nail polish and messy hair with just a mere presence of their flawlessness: you knew you were facing a tease before you even managed to acknowledge his appearance, brow raising curiously in a cautious attempt of a greeting.

“Well, you did startle me,” was the first thing to leave your mouth after the coughing assault had ended, lips stretching lazily into an involuntary grin. “How do you know my name?”

His eyes — oh those big shiny tormentors — widened in surprise, and one sinewy hand crawled somewhat haphazardly up his chest, fingers catching the knot of a red tie to pull on it firmly. To either adjust it or to make the clearing of a tender throat easier — you couldn’t quite place it, yet still watched him in silent astonishment, tasting the bitterish taste of tobacco on the tip of your tongue.

“Well,” he parroted your tone with sharp accuracy and proceeded with distinguished sass, “I believe a certain someone has introduced us to each other… in absentia, so to speak.”

Oh. So that was your new charming counterpart? Bravo, Jayce — there was actually something truthful about your flattering for the first time.

“For I am Viktor, in case you’re still confused,” he obligingly reminded, abandoning the brief fidgeting with his tie to offer you a handshake.

You gulped, almost extending a dominant arm to accept it, but some weird foreboding had once convinced you that to twine your still smelling of cigarettes fingers with a stranger would be somehow perceived as crude — and so you clumsily caught his palm with your other, less nimble limb. Let the heat of his touch engrave into your hand, eyes swirling the tiny mole above that defined cupid’s bow, making you feel stupid for stealing that innocent of a peek. Had you forgetting about the still stuffed into your mouth cigarette as it fell open in oblivious awe, almost dropping a decent bridge of ashes onto his pretty shoes.

Regaining the lost composure, you managed to introduce yourself in a manner similar to his — not that it was necessary since he seemed to remember what to call you exactly, but the gesture still felt right — you’d vowed to treat people with politeness and liked to think that it was going quite well for you.

“So,” he uttered somewhat approbatory, withdrawing his hand from your tender clasp, “normally I don’t… tutor. But Jayce was rather insistent I try — and he’d also assured me that you’re quite passionate about the subject.”

You huffed, letting out an undefinable sound of confusion. Not without a mixture of evident irritation to it, if you were to be frank — but that was entirely justified. A tutor? Is that how Jayce really took it?

“I’m not looking for a tutor,” you sassed matter-of-factly, angrily inhaling from your cigarette. “I’m looking for a counterpart. What makes you think that you’re competent enough to teach me anything at all?” you inquired with candid hostility, watching him go limp in silent panic.

You’d vowed to treat people with politeness and didn’t care if it wasn’t going well for you anymore. Quite a drastic change of plans, to be frank.

“Oh, I am not claiming that,” Viktor rushed to object, and the way a few strands of hair started shaking treacherously as he wagged his head had almost caused you to crack a pretentious smirk. But he quickly soothed the unkempt curl and proceeded with his explanation, “I was simply told you might need some help. Why the unnecessary attitude?”

“Because you were told wrong,” you practically spat the smoke into his face, lips smacking together with an audible pop. It made his textured nose wrinkle with a fed up sigh, entertaining you with an ungainly attempt of waving that livid cloud away.

“And that’s my fault… how, exactly?” he mumbled with an utterly puzzled glare, and you scoffed in silent rejoicement, leaning slightly closer to divert yourself with more of his emotiveness.

“You should have paid more attention to what Jayce told you,” you jumped over his rhetorical question paying it no mind whatsoever. Though, as you were reminiscing on the events of this exact conversation — your own audacity made you wonder how Viktor managed to refrain from slapping you across the face that very instant. The shitty booze must have turned out not so shitty after all — it sure gave you the nerve, and you were holding onto it a tad bit too tightly.

But your new companion didn’t take that well. His thick eyebrow protruded into a furious arc, lids twitching slightly at the outburst you were so pathetically proud about. Both hands returned to the handle of his cane, as if getting ready to transform it into a weapon — and he leaned his whole body weight on it with a displeased gasp, accented voice obtaining a lower, more threatening edge to it.

He’s sweet, you scoffed, ready to press your forehead against his like an uncivilized animal. It’s not like you were acting much better than that anyway.

Well, at least Jayce didn’t lie about the handsome part.

“I’ll have you know that I was, indeed, paying attention,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “and if you wish to quibble over the words that do not even belong to me — then fine: be my absolute guest, but do not except me to align with your enthusiasm and partake in useless insults.”

He cleared his throat again, evidently reluctant to indulge in whatever spectacle you were so clearly asking for. That man didn’t deserve your resentment, but now you certainly deserved his, and so you backed off, fingers twitching haphazardly as they curdled around your cigarette for one last awkward drag, lashes fluttering with palpable nervousness.

“I was told you needed a tutor — and I sincerely apologize if your request was miscomprehended,” Viktor sighed, and you blinked at him in baffled reverence. Wishing oh so desperately to burn your always looking for trouble tongue with that still somewhat smoldering tobacco stick.

“No, I…” you gasped in response, but Viktor held a soothing hand up, stopping you from puking out more of that guilty incoherent nonsense.

“Please, allow me to finish,” he demanded, and you obeyed — a mere culpable inch away from accidentally swallowing the filter still filling your mouth with a sharp savour of smoke.

And your submission was appreciated right away.

“So, as I was saying,” Viktor returned to his lecture with a distinguished cough, “I’m sorry if your request was miscomprehended. But it certainly wasn’t miscomprehended by me, which makes your reaction somewhat… unfair, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” you yielded, nodding in weak agreement. “Yes, totally unfair.”

“To say the least,” he was quick to add, emphasizing the last word especially heavy.

“To say the least,” you parroted in response — just like a tamed misbehaving brat. And that’s precisely what you were — humbled, put in your place and sorry. You were sorry, and it made you quiver as you timidly chewed on the inside of an already half-eaten cheek, frantically counting the numerous scratches on your shoes. Doing anything to escape the gentle orbs undressing you off your very flesh in an attempt to find something even you doubted was still there: some prudence.

“So, with that being said,” Viktor summarized, and you heard a resonant click of his cane against the concrete, “I suggest you take out your anger on someone who’s responsible for the incorrect wording.”

You dared to abandon your defeated position, head tilting slightly upwards to witness his departure — just as languid as this completely disastrous evening; no offense to Jayce and his special day, of course.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he smiled, politely nodding at the establishment before you two, “I still ought to wish that someone a happy birthday.”

So that’s how you lose both a battle and a war. He’d just taught you a valuable lesson — and here you were, so appalled to the idea of being tutored. Oh how the tables have turned.

You reached out a hand for him, preliminarily putting out that damned cigarette to the sole of your messy shoe in a chaotic rush. Grazed his shoulder with a fleeting touch — so cowardly unsure if you were even allowed to pamper such luxury in these conditions. But he showed you some mercy — allowed it to linger there, slightly dipped into the curvature of his clavicle, awaiting your next move with a didactic frown.

A look of a man who’d put you in a checkmate before even pulling out a chess board.

“Viktor, I’m sorry,” you muttered with the most sincere remorseful look your face could even master, “I’m terribly sorry, actually. I shouldn’t have—“ but he interrupted you, eyes drifting playfully to the hand still invading his precious privacy.

“Oh, shit,” you cussed under your breath, hastily pulling it back as if it was leprotic, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Please, continue,” he insisted softly. Gave you a few seconds to finish crumbling into stupid tipsy pieces and stepped back, all of his attention centered precisely on your earnest apology.

Oh, nevermind, someone please scratch the ‘showed you some mercy’ part.

“I was rude,” you confessed (as if it wasn’t obvious enough already). “Unacceptably so. I’m not exactly… good with social cues — but it’s no excuse, I should never have said that. Especially within the first five minutes of meeting you,” the words were flowing out of your mouth so naturally — surprisingly smooth for someone who’d normally take three to five business days to come up with a proper atonement (or even consider the necessity of one whatsoever).

“Do you think I could somehow… make it up to you?” you hit him with your most pitiable arrow, the one you were saving up for special occasions when you really did mean to somehow atone for all the damage, eyes two pretty things seeking his forgiveness with a sporadic, perplexed blink. But they saw none — he’d frowned, hummed in consideration, and then tormented you with silence for just a few more everlasting seconds, making you sink your lips softly into the edge of your nail and scrape some polish off of it. Squinting instantly at the awful, chemical taste — and Viktor finally gave up.

You’d realized it was your first time hearing him laugh much later. It was, indeed, a thing to remember — all raspy, strangely domestic, not malicious or willing to destroy you any further. And yes — technically, he was laughing at you, but if that’s what you’d get every time this man filled the air with that soft laughter — then you may as well become a circus employee just to figure out how to make him emit more of it.

“All is forgiven,” he assured you, shaking his head, “the second you made that face, actually. But no more of that, please. If that’s how you plead — then I’m afraid I might someday forgive you something utterly unacceptable.”

He’s sweet, you sighed, an unsure smile returning plastered across your face once again.

Perhaps you should start listening to Jayce more often.

“But back to your request,” Viktor was quick not to let you turn into a puddle on that still scorched by the sun ground, “a counterpart — is that what you need? Why not join a chess club, then?”

His question didn’t mean any harm, and he obviously just asked it out of sheer curiosity — yet it still made you feel a tad bit demeaned. Not by him, of course, just by the fact those arrogant fucks still dared to coexist without you.

Perhaps they would be willing to reconsider if they saw your behavior tonight?

You sighed, shrugging off his query. “I tried to. They didn’t let me because I don’t have a rating.”

“Really? Well that’s just strange — since when does one need a rating for it?” his confusion was genuine, eyes widened drastically as if he’d just heard the biggest absurdity of his entire life.

“That’s what I said,” you whined in a tone of a natural gossip-girl, almost ready to chain-smoke the entire rest of your pack now that you were reminded of your misery.

“I see,” Viktor hummed, stroking a thumb over the line of his sharp chin in deep scrutiny, “hm, I’m certain I’ve never heard them demand a rating for enrollment before. A club is not a tournament, after all.”

“Wait, are you a member of our chess club?” the realization quickly absorbed you, but Viktor didn’t quite catch on to your astonishment.

“Yes,” he dryly confirmed, “yes, I am. Not that I spend much time there though — those gentlemen are simply… how do I put it politely? Mediocre. Incompetent. I don’t like careless opponents — what’s the point in playing them if you can picture how exactly you can win within seconds?”

Within seconds. You froze in apparent disbelief, trying to figure out whether he’s bluffing or actually being serious, awaiting tensely on something — anything — that might indicate a joke. But not a single muscle on his pale face twitched into a smile — he’d responded with a look as awfully inquisitive as yours, unsure of what exactly you expect him to do.

So he does mean it. In that case, he’s either very full of himself — or these boys are, in fact, that hopeless in chess. And something kept telling you that it most likely was the ladder.

“I’m jealous then, I suppose,” you offered him a safe answer, toying thoughtlessly with your poor, rusty lighter.

“Please don’t be,” he protested with a careful plea. “Envy is a waste of time. You should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.”

Bold of him to assume you might envy his skills. Well, yes — you were definitely beaming with envy, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.

You snorted, almost letting that toxic conceit take over whatever pieces of common sense Viktor had just punched back into you — and his words dwelled, slinking through your skull, filling you not with thirst for vengeance, but with inspiration. It gave you some time to form a decent comeback, so you used it wisely: by delivering precisely that kind of answer, eyes rolling playfully at his discreet lecture.

“I don’t envy your tactics,” you informed him, gracefully holding your head up, “I envy the fact you have someone to show them to.”

And that boy smiled again, forcing your light vertigo to return — but not out of tipsiness or so-called ‘arrogance poisoning’.

“So do you,” he whispered, and watched you derail with the most victorious countenance known to a man. Reminding you nonchalantly that he doesn’t need a single chess piece to have you in a stalemate.

That muggy bar might’ve offered you an experience of being trapped in a figurative, impossibly narrow coffin, but Viktor’s presence was the thing that truly made you feel like an actual cadaver — all empty thoughts, and stiffness, and skipped heartbeats.

But Jayce forgot to mention that your new competitor was also deeply laconic.

“Meet me in the library next… Friday, if you’re available?” he wasn’t generous enough to award you with any more seconds to recover from this exchange, impatiently expecting a confirmation. You could only manage a non-verbal one, nodding weakly at his offer.

“Say… somewhere around noon?” he mused, and you instantly nodded again, waiting obligingly for his next suggestion. What a pleasure it is to do business with you!

“Perfect,” he snatched the words out of your mouth, already half-turned to the bar entrance, “please bring a board, and I shall bring the clocks… Yes, the library should suffice — it’s not like a game of chess requires much conversation either way. Now, please do excuse me — I really need to steal Jayce away for a minute.”

You watched him vanish into that devilish, so utterly unfitting for a man of his kind place; eyes nailed into his back as the crowd of feasting people swallowed your new interlocutor. Letting an excited little breath slip past your open mouth, escorting him with an uncoordinated wave of a shaky hand — a rather silly, excessive gesture since he wasn’t able to see it, and yet it still felt right — like a perfect little farewell to strengthen this newfound friendship with.

That’s how you met your counterpart — or, perhaps, that’s what you used to see in him once.

What you were still oblivious about — is that this man will conquer you in much more capacities than just the game that brought you two together.

⸻

tags (please let me know if you’d like to be added to them) : @zaunitearchives @blissfulip

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane fanfic #viktor smut #*throws this thing at you and vanishes*#the cunterpart

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teatreeoill · 6 months

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|| Steam (Geto Suguru X Reader) ||

A short one shot in which the reader just really wants to put his hands on naked wet Geto. Honestly, who doesn't? . Nothing too explicit of fluffy, just a first contact kind of thing.

The air is thick with steam, hazy strokes of light fall from the windows down to the moist floors. All you see when you pass the bathroom mirrors is a shape that resembles you somehow in colors. You take in another hot breath that leaves your throat tingling, convincing yourself you're invisible. Geto has heard you since the moment you took your shoes off at the entrance to the showers. Through the sound of the water running over his head he had heard all your hesitant steps, your finger brushing against a mirror, squeaking for a moment when you drew a small smiling face on its surface. He hasn't moved an inch, still running his hands through his hair with his back towards the entrance.

It had somehow made sense a few moments ago. You'd go to the showers, where he'd been standing for the past hour washing off another mission. You'd be curt, just a few words from behind the door to serve a small reminder he had promised his friends he'd drink with them tonight, a reminder that they’ve been waiting for him for the past half an hour. But the door was wide open, and the words felt too rude to utter - to disturb such a focused silence; you could have sworn that if the water stopped you'd hear his train of thought. All the effort you have wasted trying to shorten your steps hadn't paid off - you've arrived. You stood a mere step behind Geto, who seemed far more intimidating when you were so close that the steam wasn’t blurring your vision any longer. You watched your clothes collect the little droplets of water ricocheting from his body, trying to find the courage to take a breath. "It really scares me," He says, "That you think no one can tell that you're there. If that's how you are on missions, I'm surprised you're still alive". You've lost your focus, he says your name to get your attention, his back still pointed at you. "Huh?" your mind is yet to wrap around the fact that you've been spotted. A few seconds stretch to a small eternity. The sound of the flowing water clouds your mind. You pull your arms forward, and wrap them loosely around his abdomen, pressing your cheek to his wet back. His palms grab your wrists to pull your arms tighter around him. Water stains have formed on your shirt, making it cling to your body. The thought crosses your mind that you have never really touched him before - perhaps he came off too much as the kind who didn't want their personal space violated when you first met - and the lack of even the smallest physical contact had grown into a habit. You felt his fingers trace patterns on your forearm. How long have you stood like this? "Is something the matter?" He breaks the silence. "Oh, it's just - I - We - uhm," You pulled away from him. "It's just that we've been waiting for you, Shoko was angry about the drinks getting warm." The touch of his fingers lingers on your arms. A knot had formed in your throat, reaching all the way down to your stomach. What a stupid thing to do. You tugged on your shirt to keep it from clinging to your stomach. How am I supposed to face him now? Geto only turns his head, "Alright". "Pass me the towel," He turns the shower off and waits patiently, his hand stretched out from behind his back. Your fingers touch again when you put the cloth in his hand. Your face grows red when he secures the towel on his waist and turns to you. "I'll - I’ll go now," The words come out barely audible, your gaze directed downwards. You watch his feet take a step toward you, his hands brush away strands of wet hair that clung to your face. "Alright," His hand grabs your chin, he presses his lips softly to yours. Your body feels like it's running a fever. "I'll let you know when my next shower is," He mutters into your lips.

#jjk fanfic #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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bird-inacage · 10 months

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Love in the Air: The Significance of Security to Sky

This moment folks. I need to talk about it. I already gave it an honourable mention, but I want to dissect why Sky's reaction here spoke volumes - and how the significance of security (aka marriage) is so important as a conclusion to the Prapaisky story.

When we first meet Sky, he's still wading through the shadow of his abuse. The prolonged aftereffects which could potentially continue for the foreseeable future, affecting his overall happiness and ability to love again.

Now fast forward to this expression we see on Sky's face during the wedding. Despite all the trials and tribulations, despite thinking he might never overcome those demons - I saw in his expression - an echo of the 'young Sky' again. The innocence in his smile. The giddy wholesomeness which is often found in young 'puppy' love. Eagerness and anticipation for things to come. Hopeful excitement which isn't marred or jaded by the toil of hardship. An expression that contained an immense degree of appreciation and relief, a 'thank god you found me' relief. A 'close-to-tears' relief that comes with finally being seen and/or valued. The point is, that expression is very similar to the way he'd looked at Gun before everything that followed.

That's the expression of a boy who has fully and willingly opened their heart to another. And here it is again. On his wedding day. Sky has somehow managed to restore some of that innocence in love he lost.

Most of Sky's anxieties can be attributed to a lack of safety (such as difficulty with trust, doubt in stability, worry of being taken advantage of, insecurity in his self-worth). This all manifests from a very simple and basic human instinct we all possess - and that is to feel safe. When someone so intimately close to you betrays you in the worst way imaginable, they've effectively stripped any sense of safety away from you by force. This is the state in which Prapai finds Sky in at the start of the series.

I've talked many times before about how Prapai fulfils a 'protector' role incredibly well. But in fact his way of handling Sky goes beyond protection. He's very adept at creating a safe space around Sky, as well as allowing Sky to feel safe when he's with him. And that's not only by loving Sky, but truly caring for Sky's wellbeing and his basic needs. Whether that's ensuring he eats, making sure he rests, or reminding Sky he doesn't need to suffer alone. This is achieved by listening, by not overstepping, by holding back, by being patient, by being gentle. And eventually escalates to Prapai 'removing' Gun as a threat. The very genesis of Sky's suffering and the very person who robbed Sky of his safety, which Prapai had been working so hard to rebuild.

Safety comes first before all else, due to safety being intrinsically linked to survival. It's only once you've established safety, that you can add security - further measures to 'ensure' this safety lasts as long as possible.

This is where Prapai's intentions for marrying Sky (other than the most obvious) are really worth considering. By his very character, our boy Prapai famously never half-asses anything. He's all in, all the time. He wants to provide everything humanly possible to the person he loves, and that involves giving Sky the highest form of security he can offer, which is by marrying him. Binding them in name, on paper, as well as on all remaining principles.

For most people, the fine print and diplomacy of marriage is not particularly romantic. But in this case it's exactly the functionality and formality of marriage that will provide Sky with the security Prapai seeks. Prapai possesses privilege. And that privilege allows him access to means he can extend to Sky. So marrying Sky means: 'I will be responsible for you. What's mine is now yours'. 'If anything happens to me, you have everything I have.' 'I now legally have the permission and the right to fully take care of you.'

This isn't essential to Sky. He already has Prapai by his side, which is plenty as far as he's concerned. He doesn't need or desire anything else. But Prapai wants to. Because Prapai is thinking about the future - their future. He is always anticipating what Sky needs or may need before Sky does for himself. Sky's perspective has always been 'you've done enough, this is enough', whereas Prapai's perspective is 'what else can I do?' At first Prapai was just trying to ensure Sky's basic needs were met and now that he's achieved that, what's next? All of this is an attempt to safeguard the person he loves and their future together. It's the devotion in such an act, the restless pursuit of such a cause that means so very much to Sky. Because he knows (as do we) - that Prapai would do anything for him.

And that - that is what we call marriage material folks.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #LITA meta #wedding plan #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #fortpeat #ive missed dissecting them #its meta time baby #just spending my friday night thinking about them

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woncherie · 1 year

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hello!! it took me a bit more than a week to post part 2 of my fic, im so glad i got so many nice comments on my previous part :(( yall made me so happy omg i hope you enjoy this part too.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

warnings: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail, ass play. (please tell me if I missed something)

wc: 4.4k

what have i done? you were currently turning and tossing yourself around your bed, trying to proceeds yesterdays events, burying your head into your pillow. what have i done?? you always wanted to press a pillow onto your head until you couldnt breath anymore, why not do it now? This would definitely be a better opportunity than go to your lectures right now and get yourself killed by a certain violet haired man.

how did you even get this confident? you tried to blame everything to the alcohol you drank yesterday, your head hurting in approval. sober you would've never done that this smoothly.

you were a bit proud of yourself though. you showed him who the boss was, even if it was just for a night. maybe, just maybe, he will leave you alone now?

curiosity took over you and you grabbed your phone, opening your gallery quickly, being greeted with a very special photo you took the night before.

scaramouche right before you on the screen, eyes teary, mouth wide open with your spit on his tongue, waiting patiently like a good boy. you could clearly see the bulge he had in his pants, grinding steadily against your leg. you can still feel the way he grinded himself on your thigh, and just thinking about the night before made your mouth water and pussy clench. for fucks sake. he really was gorgeous like this.

your timer went off again, reminding you that you should be leaving your bed and getting ready, and the urge to just turn it off completely was very high, but you decided to fight these feelings and stand up slowly instead. you cant hide forever. at some point you will have to meet him again. you aint no pussy.

your head was still hurting like a bitch, but you tried to ignore it. you took a quick shower to get rid of the remaining alcohol and cigarette smell you had on your body and hair, stepping out of the shower and drying your hair properly before changing into you clothes.

after a few minutes you heard your doorbell ring, so you walked up to the door and opened it for a certain blonde guy who stood in your doorframe.

"morning." albedo said in his typical monotonous voice, carrying two small bags with breakfast for the both of you to eat on your way to uni.

"you are absolutely saving my ass."

"my specialty" he answered, handing you your sandwich after you put on your shoes and closed the door behind yourself. you could see that he also wasn't feeling too well right now, still hungover from the day before. but you werent feeling one ounce better.

on your way to uni, you kept thinking about the night before. you have absolutely no idea how you ended up like this. this definitely wasnt your first sexual experience, and you do get your fair share of fun every now and then, but you have never been this controlling over anybody, but fuck, did it feel amazing.

"are you feeling alright?" you heard albedo ask next to you, looking at you through his glasses. he must've noticed that you were sunk in thoughts. "huh? yeah. was just thinking about the party yesterday, my head hurts like a bitch. how did i even get home?"

the intelligent man next to you smiled a bit against his cup of coffee. "apparently yanfei brought us home, we certainly did drink a lot yesterday. she really is a responsible person. need to thank h..."

you werent really listening to him anymore. its not that you couldnt, your mind was just racing right now. does he know what happened? you asked yourself. scaramouche and you werent really in a private area yesterday. did anyone see us?

"wow, y/n, you really seem to be lost in thoughts. care to share?"

you instantly moved your head to him, looking at him with wide eyes before coughing a bit and shaking your head. "im sorry, im just.. really tired, thats all."

"Well, at least we dont have many lectures today. you can go back home quickly and nap some more." he worried about you. albedo always cared about you, just like you cared about him. it was a really nice friendship you two had, but you just didnt feel like telling him anything. he would beat your ass once you told him what you did.

after a few minutes of a silent walk, you arrived at the campus. you threw your empty wrappers away and headed straight to the lecture hall, your heart beating faster and faster with every step you took. fuck. he's gonna kill you.

you opened the door to the lecture hall, letting albedo enter first before following him into the room. it was quite full already, and your eyes immediately scanned the crowd. you easily spotted childe, columbina and dottore, their unusual and fancy clothes catching your eyes quickly. but no scaramouche yet.

you sat down with albedo somewhere in the back of the hall, hiding from the view of others. well, that was your goal at least. you expected a furious little man to storm into the room and peel your skin of alive of your body, but.. he never came?

you heard the girls in the row in front of you talk and couldnt help but listen to their conversation.

"Scara is not here yet.."

"Yeah of course. did you see how he hit the bottle yesterday? couldnt stop drinking, especially at the end."

"he seemed a bit anxious, im worried.."

"nah. probably just couldnt tolerate the weed properly."

The first girl really seemed to be concerned about him, and you couldnt help but suppress a gag at her attitude. just wanted to get into his pants. oh if she knew.

at some point the professor came into the hall and started the lecture without scaramouche joining the class, and you sighed in relieve. you were save, at least for now.

☆

You didnt have a lot of lectures today, so you went back home rather quickly that day. albedo joined you once again, and you two walked into your apartment, immediately throwing yourself onto your bed. it wasnt just your head hurting like a bitch, albedo also felt really exhausted, so no one was surprised when you both just fell asleep right then and there.

after a few hours you opened your eyes again, a snoring blonde still sleeping next to you and your head still woozy from the nap you took. you noticed how your stomach grumbled and stood up slowly, going into the small kitchen that your 25 m² apartment had to wash your face.

you didnt wake albedo up yet, letting him sleep his hangover away. instead, you started making some food for the both of you. you didnt have a lot of food in your fridge. of course not, you are a busy student in their last year, all you survive off is noodles and toast.

you really were hungry, and a normal sandwich wouldnt make anyone of you two feel satisfied, so you decided to make some pasta with tomato sauce. simple and easy.

while cooking, your thoughts wandered once again to the night before, but before you could form any proper thoughts, your phone lighted up. you dried your hands and took a look at it. a new message from.. unknown number?

+76 628 ×××××××: delete the picture.

...oh. it wasn't hard to guess who this message is from. your stomach dropped a bit and you gulped, your heart beating a tiny bit faster.

you: where do you have my number from?

its not a perfect reply to him, but at least you had a few minutes time to collect yourself and not be this nervous anymore. he's not here right now. he can't do anything to you. you are save. you saved his number into your phone.

scaramouche: ask me something more difficult next time.

scaramouche: delete. this. picture.

you licked your lips, stirring the food on the stove before it might burn, collecting your thoughts. he's not here right now. you can do whatever you want.

you took another look at the picture you took of him, smirking, unable to control or suppress it.

you: no.

it didn't take him long to answer, probably being active on his phone to reply to you as fast as possible.

scaramouche: im gonna fucking end you myself.

at this point you were used to his threats. wasn't the first time, nor will it be the last time it'll happen. every time you fucked up a lab report, a presentation or anything college related that might affect him negatively, you got tripped, your property destroyed and a few insults thrown at you. it was nothing new.

you: *attached image*

you: oh look how adorable you look. wish you'd always be this much of a good boy for me. my spit suits you.

you heard a few broken and hurtful moans at the other end of the room, so you looked up from your phone. albedo woke up and streched himself, scratching his stomach and rubbing his eyes open.

"..morn'ng" he mumbled, and you put your phone back into your back pocket. "its not quite morning, albedo." you answered while he tried to get used to the light that shined in your room. he took a look outside of your window and saw how dark it was. "what time is it?"

"7:16 pm" you answered while you set the table for the both of you. "made some food."

you could feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you bit your lip from the inside in response. it was scaramouche again, but you couldnt check your phone now. albedo would ask, and you didnt feel like telling him anything.

"thank you, really sweet of you." albedo said before excusing himself into the small bathroom you had. your apartment really was small, but that was all you could afford with your part time job.

the second albedo closed the door you had your phone in your hand again, checking the message you got.

scaramouche: ...

scaramouche: dont do this now..

scaramouche: delete the pic. fucking bitch

you giggled a bit at his reply, quickly typing in your reply.

you: i really love coffee, do you know that? why dont you bring me one tomorrow and ill think about it.

scaramouche: you cant be forreal now.

you didnt answer him anymore, putting your phone away and finish setting the table before putting some food into albedos and your plate, right before he came back from the bathroom. you hoped he didnt notice your more-than-usual happy mood, nor the slightly red blush in your face.

"washed ur hands?" you asked.

"no, ew." he answered jokingly, finally awake again. you just laughed at his reply before you both sat down and ate together.

☆

the next day you were even excited to go to uni. you felt completely different than the day before. there is absolutely no way scaramouche will do anything to annoy you, too afraid of you to post the picture.

last night, you thought a bit. would you really post a picture of scaramouche on your lap, horny and full of your spit? probably not. you wouldnt have the balls to post it. but scaring him? oh yes. you like this. you let him believe you would do it. maybe he will stop bullying you now in uni? that would be too good to be true.

you ate your breakfast on the way to uni. albedo left later the night before, and you agreed with him to meet up on campus right before the lecture started.

"hey!" you could hear someone say behind you rather aggressively, and you looked behind you before slowly standing still. of course it was your favourite indigo haired man.

you could tell by the look on his face that he'd be everywhere else than here, in front of you, with a fucking coffee in his hand that he might throw all over your face and hair (like it happened quite a few times already.)

but instead of humiliating you, he passed you the coffee while biting his lip furiously, trying not to burst out in a tide of various creative insults.

"well that was easy." you said mockingly, looking down on the cup he handed you. it was warm and looked good. you opened the lid of the paper cup, checking the content.

cappuccino and... spit.

"thanks for that i guess." you chuckle and looked at him again, his face completely red from embarrassment and shame. how did he fall so low to bring you coffee?

"you know what to do now." he demanded, but you only shaked your head. "dont feel like it. you are being really nice to me. i guess ill keep the picture for a few more weeks."

you started walking away slowly, heading to uni, but scaramouche didnt let you go this easily, following you like a desperate man. he knew you wouldnt delete his fucking downfall of a photo just like that.

"i said, delete. the. picture. you will fucking regret this." he threatened you again, but you acted unbothered and took a sip of the cup. you could feel scaramouche cringe next to you, weirded out by you drinking the mixture in the paper cup. "you were humping my leg like a bitch in heat, im not grossed out by a bit of your spit."

"DONT SAY THIS out loud" he yelled at you at the beginning but then lowered his voice, noticing how people around the both of you are looking over. "please." he then said defeated. "just tell me what you want and ill fucking give it to you. why do you wanna ruin my reputation this badly?"

you couldnt help but roll your eyes and continue walking. after all these months and years of him humiliating and bullying you, he dares to ask you for something like that? how bold.

"just write the next lap report for our project like a good boy and the picture will be save with me." the violett haired man next to you blushed at the weird compliment you gave him but tried to hide his face in his jacket. cute.

☆

getting close to campus, scaramouche stopped following you like a lost kid and instead turned into another street. he really didnt feel like being seen on campus with you.

when you arrived, you already saw albedo standing near the building, and you smiled at him while walking to him. you threw the coffee away before hugging him. "morning."

"morning. didnt like your drink?" he pointed out the drink you threw away while still being half full.

"yeah, the barista fucked it up i guess." you lied while heading into the lecture room. poor albedo, you've been so insincere to him the past few days. you did feel bad, but you already knew about the lecture he will give you once he'll find out.

the room was only half as full as yesterday, todays course only taking in half as many students as yesterdays. but of course a special bully is still sitting in the crowd. you could feel the eyes of him following you on your way to the back rows, but you tried to ignore him.

scaramouche was sitting in the middle of his friend group at the front of the hall, everyone but him happily talking and laughing. he just sat there and sulked angrily, scribbling on his tablet.

you sat down with albedo next to yanfei, and she smiled and started some small talk with the both of you (you didnt actually listen to what she said) until the professor came and started his lecture.

"hey, y/n?" albedo asked you in a low voice, trying to not bother anyone around them during the lecture.

"yeah?"

"wanna head to the library later today? i have a few things to study for and protocolls to prepare"

you looked at the professor but nodded at albedo, thinking it was a good idea. you'd probably still do the lab protocols that you just told scaramouche to do, unsure if he will do them himself. you didnt feel like failing classes just because he didnt hand in the work you both were supposed to do. "sounds like a plan."

☆

you were currently heads deep reading into a few books which laid on the table, albedo sitting in front of you with the exact same book, trying to answer the questions on the reports. "..identity test and purity test of lidocaine hydrochloride?"

you were both searching for the answers in the books that laid all over the wide library table, but no answers. you sighed defeatedly, not even trying to be silent.

it was pretty late at night, 10:37 pm the watch on the wall told you, and you still werent done yet. it felt like you two were the only people in here, everyone else already left. if you two wouldve been more productive, you'd be done by now too, but instead you decided to spend extra time in the cafeteria to talk about anything and everything.

you rubbed your eyes before closing the book, standing up and stretching yourself while your blonde best friend followed you with his eyes. "im trying to find a better book. ill be back in a few minutes."

he nodded and you headed to the tons shelves, getting lost in different publications and works by different authors. you needed to walk quite a while to arrive at the section you needed, putting the old book back into the rack, your eyes scanning the book spines, trying to find a better one.

but between the publications and books, of course, you saw a special pair of indigo eyes and hair on the other side of the shelves. you couldnt think straight, and before you realized it yourself, you headed to the section where your favourite bully was standing.

a book in his hand, eyes buried deep into the book before he looked up with them, seeing your face and rolling his eyes immediately. "how the fuck are you everywhere?" scaramouche asked you.

"i should be asking you this." you answered and leaned against the shelf. "first time that i see you in here. what are you doing?"

scaramouche closed the book and put it back where he got it from. "writing my lab report. last time you told me to do it, didnt you?"

wow. you were surprised that he actually was doing his share in the project. and that he just said a whole sentence without cussing you out. you felt proud of him.

"thank you, i guess." you say, scratching your head, but scaramouche immediately turned back to you and grabbed your arm, pressing you into the shelf with full force.

"if you really feel thankful, maybe think about deleting the picture from two days ago, you fucking bitch." he spat in your face.

oh wow. welcome back, old scaramouche.

a special thought appeared in your head, and you looked at him with a small grin plastered on your lips. he just looked at you confused.

"the fuck is so funny about this?" he spat again, and your grin started growing on your face. "dont feel like it.", you answered, "but i can maybe thank you differently." you moved your leg between his, lifting it to meet his crotch softly.

scaramouche gasped quickly, probably from shock, and he let your hand go. it was an easy opportunity to shove him away from you, now you being the one to press him against the reck of books, caging him in with your hands.

you could easily see the pure flustered shock on his face, eyes wide open and face tinted in red, and you enjoyed it.

"not so bold now, are you?" you asked him, getting closer to his neck and pressing a few light kisses on them. you could feel him inhale in shock, holding his breath in and biting his lip as you attacked his neck with bites and kisses. "we can continue off from where we stopped last time?"

scaramouche felt like he was on fire, body moving on his own once again. he used your thigh to get himself off, getting hard embarrassingly quick. "see, you seem to like it?" you whispered in his ear, but all he could do was bite his lips and trying to stay silent.

yes, the library wasnt full, but it wasnt completely empty either. he didnt want anyones attention on the two of you, so he tried his best to stay silent.

you didnt appreciate this behaviour though, and pinched his ass from behind, a gasp leaving his mouth louder than he intended to.

you let go off him for a second, grabbing his small waist to turn him around, his chest pressing against the books and yours against his back. he looked back at you with wide eyes, visibly shocked. "what are u-" he started his sentence, but your hand on his boner made him lose his train of thoughts.

you opened his pants and slid in with your right hand, playing with the hem of his boxers. "st..stop this, not here.." he mumbled aroused, his pleas not sounding too serious. he didnt wanna stop now, he started to feel incredibly good again. how are you doing that to him?

your hand grabbed his dick, pumping it twice in his pants and scaramouche let his head fall back in his neck, a silent moan leaving his lips. fuck, your hands were cold, but they felt so good on his body.

but how can he believe you would get him off this easily? you giggled silently while watching him enjoy himself before taking your hand back again and kneeling behind him.

he started to get really frustrated with your behaviour and tried to glare back to you, but when he saw you on your knees behind him, face right near his ass, his eyes widened in shock (once again.)

"what are you doing?" he asked you. you didnt answer him though. all you did was pull his pants and boxers down, here, right in the middle of a library between a thousands of books.

the cold air hitting his skin made him shudder, his face turning left and right, trying to check if anyone was close. if anyone would catch you two in here, he'd absolutely go apeshit.

"ever got your asshole licked, scara?" you asked him, and your direct way of asking him made his whole face flush red. "what the fuck are you on again??" he asked, but you didnt answer once again.

you spat in your hand and moved it back to his dick, stroking him a few times to get him more obedient again. his eyes closed in shame and lust as he rutted into your hand, biting down on his hand to stay silent.

you, once again, let go of him, but this time you decided to play with his backside, massaging his ass and getting him more riled up. after a few seconds you used one of your wet fingers to get close to his hole, circling it with spit to get it wet. the moan scaramouche let out in that moment was godlike.

fuck, you wanted to hear more of that. more of his angelic voice. you can't deny that his means and whimpers do something to you, your panties getting a bit wet, heart beating faster.

you couldnt control yourself anymore and grabbed his waist, pulling him close to your face and holding him in place while you devoured him right then and there, tongue circling his hole, moving up and down close to his balls.

scaramouche felt weird, scaramouche felt good. he never felt something like this, his body never felt this good. you didnt even need to hold him down anymore, he was drunk on the pleasure, shoving his cute ass right into your face, chasing the pleasure.

he tried to stabilize himself on the shelf with his hands, head falling back into his neck and tears pooling in his eyes, so close to spilling. usually he was the one pleasuring others, and being on the receiving side this time makes him feel so small and incredibly good. he can't think of a day where he felt like this with another person pleasuring him.

he couldnt help but choke onto air, not a single word coming out of his mouth other than silent whines, tears and mewls of pleasure, so close to cumming.

at some point you switched to your fingers, a spit covered one circling his hole before slowly pushing in, and scaramouche became putty in your hands.

you took your phone from your pocket and opened your camera in one swift motion, but this time you gave the tall man in front of you some time to react.

"say cheese.." you said, and scaramouche turned his head back to you, cheeks red and wet from his tears, lip swollen, tongue out and eyes big. but he didnt care, fuck he really didnt care right now. all he needed was this pleasure that you gave him, so he just looked in the camera with angry eyes which made him look just so much more adorable. just take those stupid pics. he thought.

"y/n?" you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

oh. you completely forgot that you werent alone in the library, albedos voice somewhere near you and scaramouche. you both immediately jumped up, you on your feet and scaramouche crouching, pulling his pants up, both of your eyes wide in shock and fear.

scaramouche knew that if anyone would see you two here it wouldve been easy to guess what you did, so he pulled his pants up rather poorly and jumped away from the other side of the aisle to the other direction from where albedo came from.

fucking hell. he got blue balled once again.

"im here." you said after fixing your clothes, taking any book from the shelves and opening any page, trying to look busy as albedo walked into the aisle. it was so hard for you to contain your smirk after what you just did, but you tried your best. "i was just wondering what took you so long." he asked, fixing his glasses on his nose. "i already have the solution, we're done for today."

"oh god thank you."

"wanna get some food?"

"yes please, i was just getting tired of being here." you said and put the book away, scaramouche a few aisle away from you, listening to your conversation, hiding his face in his hands.

how did you wrap him around your finger once again?

☆☆☆

NYAHAHAHA hello i hope you liked part 2!! i feel like i did a bad job overall but whatever take it as it is <3 im sorry it took so long.. part 3 maybe?? yes or no??

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabble #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaranation #sub!scaramouche #dom!reader

978 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 9 months

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛 • 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

synopsis: after spending all of his time and nearly a week in Houston with (y/n), EJ must return home and to reality. But he isn’t pleased to find that his manager has been making moves behind his back. Ones that may sever their longtime bond and jeopardize her relationship after a heated altercation results in legal troubles for the rapper .It's also there that he reveals a secret to his best friend and what it may mean for his future as an artist. Could EJ the Don really be done with music as the media claimed? Meanwhile, (y/n)’s starpower continues ascending as she receives offers from tons of companies to do business. With the concerns of her friends lurking over her head; worrying that she may have been distracted by her recent fling, she proves to be more determined than ever to make things happen, especially when a part of her past is unearthed, serving as a reminder why she started in the first place and with news of EJ’s recent run in with the law, it’s one more reason to stay the course and keep distance. But will it really be that easy? The head executives of AMG are finally introduced, and with plans to host one of the world’s largest musical festivals for the first time in history, they meet to discuss the state of their current roster and how they plan to proceed.

content warning: mentions of violence, fighting/arguing, drug mentions, angst, mental health, mentions of death and grief, toxicity, implied sex, legal stuff and mentions of jail

word count: 8.8K

📝: just wanna tell you all thank you so very much being patient with these very sporadic and inconsistent uploads. I promise it is not due to lack of inspiration, these chapters just take a hell of a long time to write! If I could have them out in a week, I would. But I hope that everyone is enjoying this story so far and I can’t for y’all to see what’s next! 🫶🏾

previous chapter >>> next chapter

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“Listen, Mr. Jaeger..I assure you. There’s nothing to worry about, alright? In all fairness, and in the eyes of the law, they were trespassing onto your property. Which gave you grounds to defend yourself. We’ll beat this case, trust me. And if they press their luck, we’ll crush them..you’ll own their entire company by the time I’m finished.”

“Shit, I hope so. My manager’s gonna be on my ass when she finds out. I don’t even wanna know what story those grimy ass journalists cooked up and put out..but that’s why I pay you. Do your thing and make this headache go away, please. I have full faith in you.”

It was a rather interesting Monday morning for the jaded Eren, who had been mid-conversation with his lawyer. A defense attorney to the stars who had beaten some of the most harrowing allegations and cases. Yelena Pithikos, a woman as intimidating as she was intelligent..and boy, did she live up to her reputation! A perfect track record with not one single lost case. She really was the greatest of all time in the legal world. With her on his side, there was no way he’d lose. The two would converse for a little longer; the rapper facing a half smoked blunt and blowing smoke before ending the call. To say he was stressed would be the biggest understatement of the century. Having been a free man for a little over twenty four hours, he had not only been hit with a barrage of text messages from concerned friends but knew that a media shitstorm was headed his way. All of it seemed so exhausting! Floch, who came and posted bail on his behalf, was worried that he’d be irate but if anything, he was just worried. Worried that he had caused yet another issue for Mika and how she’d have to spend the next week trying to clean up his mess. Little did he know though, that this wasn’t a result of his own actions..

“Come in.”

Uttering tirelessly over his shoulder as he mashed away at the keys on his mixing board. Suddenly, the door would creak open..followed by the faint footsteps of clacking heels hitting the tile. “No snarky comments today?” That old statement about speaking of the devil and they shall appear had never rang so true before. Just then, a visibly tired Mikasa came walking in; hands folded over her chest and cell phone in hand. Truthfully, he didn’t even want to look at her. Not out of embarrassment but fear that he had angered her or upset her. He sometimes worried the people around him with his careless actions. He did things without taking into account how they may affect everyone else. However, this wasn’t a matter that he should or could apologize for. Not when his home, his safe haven was invaded.

“..look, I know what you’re gonna say. And I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel like listening to any lectures right now. Already got an earful of the damn cops and a bunch of crazy bastards in a holding cell getting on my last good nerve. Also, I forgot how much of a pain in the ass handcuffs are..I’m just not in the mood right now.”

blurting out before proceeding to focus on his current task..avoiding eye contact with her if at all possible. But surprisingly, she wasn’t as talkative or angry as she normally would have been. Which he didn’t even notice at first. But as the conversation progressed, he’d soon come to realize that he wasn’t so much at fault as he initially figured and in truth, the one to blame was standing in front of him. Even so, she’d glare down at him as a disappointed mother would her unruly child. For a split second, he even thought about how his own mom had called him not too long ago to check on..and scolded him about the incident and he was drained! The last thing he needed was another chewing out.

“Why did you skip out on our meeting last week?”

the question caught him off guard and confused EJ even more. What exactly did that have to do with this situation in particular? Was she not ready to rip his head off for creating yet another mess for her to mull over with the execs and the media? What was going on?! Leaning back in his chair, he’d blink profusely to really make sure he heard correctly but she’d give him that glare she’d done many times before and await his answer. “Don’t stare at me like I’m speaking another language. What was so goddamn important that you couldn’t even give me a phone call to let me know you weren’t showing up? That meeting was booked out months ago and you made me look like a complete dumbass in front of the board members. Your album deadline keeps getting pushed back and I keep having to make excuses. You don’t find that a little fucked up?”

he understood exactly where she was coming from..Mikasa worked tirelessly to ensure that all of her talents received equal attention and that they were being given opportunities to showcase their talents. As well as being backed by the top brass at AMG. It was her job as the median between the two to ensure that things went smoothly. It wasn’t easy to get a room full of stiffs in suits to fund projects sometimes but Eren’s reputation and record sales had always spoken for themselves. But with a four year time lapse between his last album and now, it was becoming difficult to do so. She was just irritated that once again, his selfishness had put her in a bad spot. It was hard enough that she had to work to prove she wasn’t just some byproduct of nepotism and family favors. But she had earned her spot as the executive PR and internal affairs manager. One she held proudly. But he’d try to explain as best he could without detonating the ticking time bomb.

“Look, Mika. I’m sorry, alright? I was busy, kinda needed to duck off and clear my head for a lil’ bit, that’s all. I didn’t realize that the damn meeting was so soon. I wasn’t trying to stand you up, I promise. I had other things to tend to, that’s all. Just schedule another one and I’ll be there, promise. Hell, tell Floch and I’m sure he’ll remind me.” Once again, there was that nonchalant attitude. It ground her gears to a halt, really. It was as if he had no real concept of reality..

“I wish I had an excuse but I don’t. Truth is, leaving town was some shit I decided last minute. I can’t even tell you why I went. I was out drinking and the next, I was in Houston. Doing shit I hadn’t in a long time...enjoying myself. That I won’t apologize for. I didn’t expect to come home to a bunch of paps at my door, interrogating me about some fuck ass article I knew nothing about. Saying I was retiring and a lot of other bullshit. Respectfully, the last thing I wanna deal with is your uncle and the rest of the firing squad questioning me about an album rollout. I need some time to think.” It seemed that he was truly agitated by all of this. As if he were confused as to how he could have a perfect weekend, pillow talking and fucking on (y/n) to now being in the midst of a media frenzy. It just seemed so sudden and now, he was trying to figure out how to deal with it. But Mika’s next comment would not only catch him off guard but eventually, send him into a tailspin.

“Damn, I knew something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Before she could recant though, Mikasa’s expression gave it away and she knew that he had definitely peeped that statement. Just what exactly did she know about this situation that he was clueless on? One thing was for certain though, he was going to find out. Glaring up at her with a rather peeved look, Eren began to press the issue..wondering if he’d get a straight answer or some calculated shit she’d orchestrated. What was this all about?

“Mikasa..I asked you a question. What do you mean ‘you knew?’ Answer me.”

normally, the banter between them was nothing more than playful, joking discourse but there wasn’t the slightest hint of happiness in his tone at the moment. But rather, complete and utter irritation and quite frankly, a hint of anger as well. He wasn’t much for the games and she figured it best not to test him either. So, against her better judgment and her own interests, she decided to come clean. Releasing a heavy sigh, Mikasa began to confess and tell him how the entire situation came about. From the fact that she was fed up with him ducking and evading meetings from the phone call with Annie and even putting the bug in her ear about writing the article. She told him that she knew he was with (Y/N) for the weekend and that she was furious about being stood up yet again..and that his inconsistency was affecting her own standing within the company. Admitting that she knew him well enough to know that he would’ve never moved for some one off blog post about him hooking up with an Instagram model but the second they mentioned news of him retiring or perhaps becoming stagnant, he’d definitely respond by clapping back from the booth. It seemed like such a sure fire way to give him that extra push to put out a new track or maybe even a full project..what she didn’t count on was him being swarmed and the whole plan backfiring.

“Look, Eren..I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t know they’d take it this far. It was a last minute, brash decision I made out of anger and I put you in a bad situation. I apologize.”

But he wasn’t hearing a word. Honestly, he had blanked from the moment she admitted that she had all but set the catalyst for this entire ordeal. Now, he had to attend court, pay legal fees and deal with a dumb ass judge..all because she wanted him to produce another record to improve her status quo?! It was infuriating but the worst part was that she was willing to exploit her own best friend and things that he had and were still struggling with for clout. He had known Mikasa for the majority of his life and she was one of, if not the most logical and intelligent person he knew. Out of all his friends, she was the one that always made the smart decisions, even in the most high stress of situations. Always thinking things through and ensured that her emotions never got in the way of her thought process. However.. “..how fucking stupid can you be?” That wasn’t the case and Eren was more than happy to let her hear about it!

For a moment, she stood still..gasping as she had never heard him speak to her in that manor. Granted, she was full and well aware of how irate he could truly become but not once in the entirety of their friendship did she think she’d become the subject of his anger. But this was coming from a place of pure hysteria. Hurt and betrayal that she would do something like this..standing to his feet, EJ tried his hardest to practice restraint to avoid saying anything extremely hurtful but he wasn’t much in the way of exercising such resolve at the moment. Especially when not only had she gotten him in this mess and offered no real solution to help repair his reputation but also, he hadn’t heard from the one person who was keeping him happy and this may have very well been the reason. So he didn’t feel compelled to hold back in expressing his feelings.

“Look, I said I’m sorry, alright? We’ll get this sorted out. Just calm down–”

“Calm down? Are you serious? Mika, I just spent the past twenty four hours in a fucking holding cell. One more fuckup and they’re gonna send me away for a long time. I had to fight a bunch of psychos off of my car and property over a story I knew nothing about. Not to mention everything in it was a lie. I take a few days off for myself, for once and you jump the gun all because you and the rest of those slave driving maniacs at AMG want me to make another album? To hell with calming down and honestly, to hell with you too for even pulling something like this! I’m your friend and you sold me out like I was nothing..”

The frustration was visible all over his face..the emotions coming through clear as day and radiating all throughout his body. Even causing tears to well in his eyes. He was furious, enraged and if it were anyone else..moreso a man, he would’ve slid them across the floor by now. But this stung more than anything. He knew how hard she worked and the lengths she went to ensure her clients’ success; not only for them but to prove that she was capable of one day becoming the heiress and figurehead of Ackerman Management Group but never in a million years did he think she’d become so obsessed with proving herself that she’d lose sight of what really mattered. Now, the damage had been done and he didn’t know if he could forgive such an act. Even so, she wanted to at least try to defend her actions!..

“Only because you never listen to me. Hell, you won’t listen to anyone!..you never think about how the things you do affects anyone else. It took three months..three months to get that goddamn meeting and you couldn’t give me so much as a phone call to let me know you wouldn’t be there. Out of every client I have, you’re the most difficult. I get it, you’ve been working since you were sixteen. Harder than anyone I know but hell, this has been my life for as long as I could remember. I’ve got a whole line of old bastards who’d do anything to remove me from the equation because once my uncle steps down, they don’t want to execute decisions made by the same little girl that used to play in the lobby. None of them truly believe I deserve that spot, no matter how hard I work. How many success stories I create…I’ll never be good enough in their eyes. The least you could do is not make it hard on me to do my job..Jesus! You’re getting a little too old for the rebellious bad boy act. In and out of jail, long before this..doing whatever the hell you wanted! You have obligations and you won’t even stand on your word but you want to preach about friendship and loyalty? Spare me, Eren. Please..this is business, remember that.”

The entire time that she was speaking, he felt himself becoming even more sated with rage. His blood boiling at her deflection. But his face had completely gone blank from a few minutes ago. Not even making eye contact as he rolled yet another blunt. As if she weren't even there but little did she know, he had a hell of a response for her little tangent and he promised she wouldn’t like it. That nonchalant, brutal honesty was one of his most horrible character traits and she was about to be on the receiving end. Uncrossing his feet, letting the sole of his Nike Dunks hit the floor, Eren began to smirk and eventually..laugh. That’s when he was at his most dangerous and the words about to leave his mouth were far more painful than any punch could ever be.

“You know Mika, you make it sound as if it’s my fault you’re not up for the task. Don’t try to take the piss out on me because Uncle Levi and his lackies are second guessing if you should take his crown. But aye, I’m not surprised. I mean, shit..it’s not the first time they’ve had to intervene because you lost control.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?..”

By now, the two of them were only inches apart. Her face screwed up and was riddled with hostility. Eren on the other hand was sporting the snarkiest, smuggest smirk he could muster. Blowing that cloud of smoke, he’d run a finger underneath her chin and look directly in her eyes:

“Exactly as I said, sweetheart. That little bullshit essay from your friend? I wonder just how much of it is true and how much of it is you projecting..let’s not pretend that you’ve always been..this. Little Miss Perfect. If anyone on this earth can’t tell me shit about obligations and integrity, it’s you Mika. You were on those stages and in the same dressing rooms I was. Getting high out of your fucking mind just to get through one set. Snorting coke off of a bathroom counter because you hated it so much. Sleeping with a bunch of assholes you couldn’t even stand looking at but hey, they made you feel better, told you you were pretty after mommy put you on another diet because the blogs were making fun of you. How many times did me, Armin and everybody else have to come pick you up off of the floor because you’d get so damned drunk after your shows, you couldn’t even remember where you were the next morning. And please, let’s not forget how many times you cried in my arms because you didn’t have the heart to tell your family to fuck off and stop forcing you to make music. It took that stupid ass fiancé of yours outshining you at your own show for you to finally realize that you hated being an artist. And you think you can actually lead that company? Don’t make me laugh. You’d probably snort your body weight if you had to handle that type of pressure. Hell, I’ve done some fucked up shit since I started making music. Taking drugs I had no business touching, just to stay awake and getting in trouble when I probably should’ve walked away but I never once tried to run from my mistakes either and I damn sure never stopped loving my craft..especially not enough to half ass a performance. No matter how bad I felt..how sick I was, even when I didn’t think anyone would even give me a chance or listen, I always showed up. Everything I do is for my fans. Losing sleep over a song because I wanted it to be perfect. You couldn’t even make it to a single album before cracking under pressure. This isn’t some money grab for me, music is my entire life and the only thing I’ve ever loved. And I’ll be damned if you or anyone else backs me into a corner over it. Tell that bitch Leonhart to put that on her website..and if you don’t like it, you and AMG can kiss my ass.”

Every single word he spoke sliced through Mikasa like a hot, searing knife through butter. Her face had become beet red and flush with tears. Huffing and breathing heavily as if she were going to explode at any second. She wanted to scream at him but couldn’t even find the words. Instead, she’d raise her open palm and smack him across the cheek with the hardest slap she could muster..so much so, it left a crimson colored mark on his face.

“Fuck you, Eren. Fuck you!..you’ve gone too far. I came here to apologize for what I did but the only mistake I’ve made is befriending an asshole like you. Burn in hell for all I care and find a new manager while you’re at it because I quit. Do whatever you want.”

furiously tugging her purse strap back up on her shoulder, Mikasa turned on her heel and proceeded to storm out. Not looking over her shoulder once because she wouldn’t be able to control herself if she did. As for EJ, he didn’t bother to stop her or even remotely show remorse for that long winded read. Rather, he’d listen as she slammed the door behind her and left. He was still pissed off but that may have been a little harsh.

“Damn..maybe I should think before I speak.” But it was too late now. There was no turning back or apologizing. For either of them..all that remained now was for him to put his focus where it always was: into his craft. Drown out all the noise and distractions and get back to what he truly loved. Because truth be told, she wasn’t the only one losing her grip on reality and goals. As he sat back in the chair, hands folded underneath his chin, all EJ could think to himself was one single thing:

“I think it might be time to call it quits. Maybe music isn’t for me anymore..”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*°•|☆•° .*°•|☆•l

meanwhile, as Eren felt that his time in the spotlight was beginning to dwindle, (y/n) on the other hand felt that your star was only about to ascend. Having just concluded the very last show in your cross country tour, you were already plotting on your next lucrative business opportunity.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll be back in Miami tomorrow so we can meet up and hash out the details. Thank you again, Mr. Smith. I appreciate your time.”

you’d find yourself on the opposite end with one of AMG’s elite directors and the man who had approached you back at Rolling Loud about starring in Connie’s video. You found it a bit strange that Mikasa wasn’t the intermediary for this particular deal but you just chocked it up to her being busy but you knew if Erwin Smith; the nine time Grammy Winner and music legend was contacting you personally then it must’ve been a huge deal. Either way, you were excited to see what was in store. Once you ended the call, you’d turn your attention back to the rest of the group, who were preparing to board their respective flights as you all paraded through the airport. Dressed in cute yet casual outfits, hair put up and bags stacked on one another. The final leg of the Pole Assassins Cross Country Tour had come to its end last night; concluded by a performance with a real rap legend performing. You all were excited to be going home…getting to see your families and most importantly, getting some much needed rest. But for the fearless leader, things never stopped. You were on your grind twenty four hours a day. Even counting up checks while you slept from brand deals and your namesake. It wasn’t all too bad. But for the ones that knew you best, they also knew that once you touched down back in Miami, you’d more than likely be closed off to everyone. That the reason you were working so hard was to keep yourself distracted from your impending grief. Even the passage of time never made it easier to get over the tragedy you suffered at seventeen years old and as a child in general. Affecting your life now even as a grown woman..living the way only few could dream of. Because of that, not one person in this world had access to (y/n) this time of year and it was very obvious by the very nonchalant reaction to the news of your sneaky link getting arrested, that the sullen mood had already set in. You didn’t even so much as gasp or even shrug it off as you had done countless other men that fucked up while in your life. And that’s what worried your girls.

“Aye, you sure she’s gonna be good while we’re on vacation? She already seems spaced out.” a concerned Kelley questioned whilst scrolling through her phone. Luckily though, Niesha wouldn’t be too far away, as you guys grew up only blocks away and not much had changed since becoming famous. You guys’ luxury apartments were within walking distance so if you needed anything, she could always pop in and check on you. “Yeah, she’ll be alright. She just needs her space right now. Listen, I’ll call y’all when we make it and keep you updated.” With that, the four girls would make their way over to (y/n), who had been standing near the gate for your flight, becoming visibly anxious. Suddenly, you’d feel a pair of comforting arms wrapping your shoulders. “Hey, pookah. You ready to go?” That warm and loving smile that could only come from your best friend and sister. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Returning the glance, you’d nod and turn to bid the rest of your crew farewell for now. Embracing in a giant group hug, the five of you exchanged laughs and even playful kisses to the cheek. Just then, your procession of being bid adieu was interrupted by a voice of the intercom, announcing departure of the Miami and Atlanta flights. “Y’all be good now. See y’all later, love you guys!” Kelley, Brianne and Syrai waved and you and Niesha would do the same as you clenched hands. Much like you had done as little girls when walking to the corner store. You were each other’s safety nets and truthfully, Niesha was all you had right now. So she’d do whatever to make you comfortable. To let you know that you weren’t alone at this time, no matter what it may have felt like. She loved you more than anything and you could feel the energy brimming from your bestie, even if there wasn’t a single word exchanged during the walk from baggage check to boarding the plane. As the two of you made it to your seats and got acclimated..you’d stay close to Niesha. Clinging to her like moths to a flame. Coiling an arm around hers and eventually, laying your head on her shoulder. Even in the dead of silence, the sentiment was loud and clear to Niesha:

“You know I always got you, pookah. You my girl and I love you…take all the time you need. You know your granny would be proud, just like I am, (Y/N). You've been working hard so now it’s time to go tell her all about it..forget EJ, forget working. This is time between you and her..”

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Page Break and Time Skip: Thursday Night, The Jaeger Residence, Miami Florida; 10:55PM

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darkness had well set over the bustling city..a thunderstorm showering the bustling streets and ruining the evening plans of would be partygoers and club hoppers. But there was an even darker cloud looming over the head of Eren, who was currently holed up in his home studio, flug lazily across the couch with his electric guitar lying across his bare torso and an open bottle of brown liquor next to him. He had been drinking and doing whatever he could to rid himself of any feelings and emotions. Having all but become a recluse..which wasn’t out of character for the hard shelled rapper to begin with but where as label mates and friends could find him working up until the early morning hours on a new song, he hadn’t even touched his work equipment. And instead, was instead getting inebriated with every substance he could tolerate so that guilt, anger or sadness stood no chance of plaguing his mind. Right now, he had his guitar lying across his bare torso and an open bottle of brown liquor in his hand. He was trying to find his spark..that extra push to drum up something to shut both his manager and his hating ass critics up. But nothing was coming through. He had no desire to make a beat, write lyrics…he just wanted to lie there and rot. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages. That creative slump and depression that had plagued many of his peers..the point of no return. Where artists could no longer achieve that sense of gratification when putting out music. They’d resort to making a few radio safe tracks to appease the masses before disappearing from the scene altogether and fading into obscurity. The last thing he wanted was to become an afterthought..but he was tired of grasping at straws. But luckily, a much needed distraction would be arriving in the form of his best friend, Armin. Who for some odd reason, couldn’t rid himself of the nagging suspicion that something was amiss with his homeboy. That would’ve been putting it lightly…

“Mr. Jaeger? You have company..” one of his loyal housekeepers and truthfully, someone he considered family, had been staying in one of the designated bedrooms for staff and was still tending to some chores when she got a knock at the door. Once getting the approval from security and seeing who it was pulling into the driveway, she breathed a sigh of relief. Because she knew if anyone could pull her gloomy employer from this week long slump fest he seemed to be trapped in, it was Armin. Whether EJ would welcome the thought or not. Before he even had the opportunity to attest and decline, the door would burst open and in would come a rather perturbed Armin, who was glancing around the dimly lit room; halting dead in his tracks at the sad sight before him. Turning to the housekeeper, he’d warmly assure her that he could take things from here and thanked the woman. It seemed to be a lot worse than what she had portrayed. He was hardly leaving his room nowadays, less known eating or anything else. Normally, she would’ve been sent home and still given a full day’s pay because Eren would insist on cleaning the mess for her, so as not to overexert herself. But when the head of the house was in a less than jovial mood, the energy was blatantly obvious to everyone.

“Alright, get your ass up. Enough of this. It’s pathetic..” the brash words leaving Armin’s mouth as he slammed the door behind him, which elicited quite the reaction from the hotheaded artist. “Watch your fucking mouth and don’t slam my fucking door either, bitch.” But alas, Armin didn’t give the slightest care. Because an angry reaction was better than none at all. Laughing as he took a seat in Eren’s chair, just to rub a bit more salt in the already festering wound. “And here I was thinking you had really lost it. You only look and smell like you’ve reached rock bottom. The proverbial clawing under his skin had seemed to work in Armin’s favor because he was at least sitting upright now and wiping his eyes so they’d adjust to the light. Releasing a loud yawn, Eren shot his best friend the middle finger and proceeded to ask exactly why the hell he was in his house this late in the evening. Armin would shrug it off as he’d always done, kicking back with a bottle of water he had confiscated from his fridge on the way up. Even going as far to take his shoes off and get mighty comfortable. ��Oh, Eren. You silly goose..you can’t escape me that easily. Besides…I’m here on official business.” the response piquing his very dulled interest. Raising a furrowed eyebrow, Eren hoisted the bottle to his lips for yet another swig of the Hennessy. “Official business? At ten PM? What the hell are you talking about?” of course, he wanted to stay here another minute without being tossed from the second story, he’d elaborate. Although, EJ had quite the nagging suspicion of what this was pertaining to. Since he and Mikasa’s giant quarrel last week, word had gotten around the entirety of AMG..including the higher ups. Who had been in talks of what to do. On one hand, Mikasa was the best PR manager to come out of the firm, not to mention the fact she was the boss’ niece and next in line. On the other hand, EJ the Don was their highest earning artist. Regardless of Grammys or accolades, his name was still holding weight after all this time. And with the two of them at odds, who knew what would become of the team? However, for Armin..it was much more than that. He could care less about AMG’s record sales or a damn article. What he cared about was seeing his best friends at odds and hurting. Unbeknownst to Eren, this fight hadn’t just affected him.

It seemed that his harsh words had hurt Mikasa far worse than anyone had anticipated. The remarks about her younger days on stage and turning to drugs to cope with the pressures of being in the limelight had driven her back to some of those nasty old habits. She was trying to keep a brave face but it reminded her of how imperfect she truly was. Regardless of that front..and him. Sitting here wasting away, all because some fucked up article said he was washed. Enough was enough!

“Look, dude. I’m not gonna bullshit with you, alright? I’m not exactly sure of what happened between you and Mika. It’s honestly none of my business but what I do know is that both of you stubborn assholes need to fix this. She won’t even tell Jean..she just says it’s the stress of work before closing up in her room for hours. The other day, she blanked on one of the coordinators because he got the wrong number of napkins for an event. Whatever you said to her, you need to apologize before that bitch kills all of us.” And he wasn’t bluffing, sadly. Mikasa had been known to be quite the pistol. They had seen her beat grown men who tried to make passes at her so they knew she could be the Tasmanian devil when she wanted to. But there was one person with a hotter head than she had..

“I’m not apologizing for a damn thing. Should’ve thought about that before running to the blogs and trying to lie about it. She wants to use cheap tactics and dumb shit then she can stand on that. Just don’t expect me to feel sorry for telling the truth.” Honestly, it was pointless to get through to either of them and he knew he’d only exhaust himself trying to argue. Maybe what they needed most was not to be lectured but for someone to listen and once he began to open up..it all made sense. Talking back another swig of that dark liquor, Eren began to confess what was truly bothering him.

“I worked myself like crazy..for years, all I wanted was to be the best. To make music that transcended the charts. Hell, I didn’t care if I ever touched a Grammy or even got my flowers. I just wanted to make shit that people could relate to. Everybody told me how stupid I was for leaving home..a cushy life just to chase this so called dream of mine. But I loved it. I loved sitting in front of my laptop..pen and paper just coming up with verse after verse. After a while, it felt like second nature. I could do that shit in my sleep, y’know?” As he continued to speak, Armin listened attentively. In all the years that they had known one another, pretty much for the entirety of their young lives, Eren had never once been this vulnerable or open with him. They joked around and sometimes went at each other’s throats but this was a completely different side that no one had seen. It could’ve been the liquor or just the lack of having someone to talk to but either way, he was pouring his heart out. And a few tears too, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Masking it behind his smirking and laughter..

“Lately, I’ve just been feeling like I don’t have a place anymore. I kept telling myself ‘maybe if I help them with this project’ or ‘if I produce this track’, my inspiration for my own shit would find me again. But nothing…I didn’t feel the same way I did a couple years ago. Less known, ten. I spent all this time trying to build this empire and now I feel like I don’t have shit to show for it..these labels, they decide you’re no longer useful, and you’re out the fucking door. It’s frustrating, I ain’t gon’ lie.” interrupting his rant only to wipe away his tears and take another sip. “I can’t even keep a girl. Finally find one worth a damn and I go and fuck it up. I’m sure she saw I got arrested and ran for the hills. Can’t say I blame her though–” it was at that moment, Armin had heard more than enough. Listening to all he could take of this pity fest and self wallowing. Unbending his knees, he planted his feet to the ground, snatching that bottle out of his hand. “First of all, if you think for one second and I’m gonna sit here and let you cry like a lil’ bitch, you’re sadly mistaken. Dude, do you know how many people you’ve inspired with this music shit? Including me? Ony, Connie, even Jean, loves your work and he can’t stand your ass. I’ve never seen anything like it. Ten years..ten years you’ve been doing and dude, you’re only getting started. If you quit now, that’s the only way it’ll be in vain. You gotta keep going..not just for your fans or even to prove a bunch of losers on the internet wrong. You gotta do it for sixteen year old EJ who chose sleeping in a bus station over the country club because he wanted to put the industry on its head. You gotta do this because no one else can. So what if you don’t feel like it right now? You have so much left in you and I’ll be damned if I watch you quit.” It were those exact words that had seemed to have brought forth a spark in him..bringing life back into those dull jade eyes. Finally getting himself together, he’d sniffle and begin to laugh. Wholeheartedly for the first time in days..it felt good. But that wasn’t it for the encouragement Armin had in store for him. There was one more bit of uplifting news he had.

“And about (y/n)? She’s not mad at you, dude. Promise. Niesha told me everything and honestly…she just needs space right now.” Armin found himself swallowing a lump in his throat as he uttered the sentence. “It’s not personal. I’m sure she’d be happy to link…when the time is right. But she’d hate to see you like this.” Taking another breath, he’d ask another request of his best friend while he seemed to be in a much better mood. “Listen, I know it’s not your thing and trust me, I already know what you’re gonna say. But I’m hosting a yacht party next week. I invited everyone else too..including (y/n)..so I was hoping you’d come too.” never had Armin been so soft spoken. Truthfully, all he wanted was to see his homeboy happy and the only person who had managed to do that in recent history was the gorgeous influencer who had obviously more than well caught his eye. Maybe the thing you two needed most was each other. Even so, it wouldn’t be that simple and EJ just wasn’t going to agree that easily.

“I’ll think about it, dude..” but before Armin could leave with a less than savory answer, Eren would avert his eyes towards the door, where Armin was close to opening it. “Aye..thanks, bro. I appreciate you.” reciprocating a toothy smile in return. Seeing him in a better mood than when he arrived was all the thanks he needed.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Doing their signature handshake they’ve had since childhood but alas the sweet, heartwarming camaraderie wouldn’t last long..as Armin had a bad habit of being as annoying as possible! “By the way, I’m gonna go get a shower and when I get back, we can work on some of these beats. I have a couple ideas.” at first, what he said didn’t exactly register to Eren but then he realized–

“I’m gonna take one of your spare beds too! The room with the mirror on the ceiling. I might have a little something coming over.”

“Yeah, man. No problem–wait a minute. You’re at my house, you jackass! What do you mean you’re gonna go shower?! Don’t you have a whole ass mansion?”

“Yeah, but I like a change of scenery.”

Before he even had the chance to respond, Armin was already headed back downstairs. “Love you, Eren!”

leaving the befuddled rapper shaking his head and in shock of just how tactless he was. One thing he could do was thank him for getting his mind right. Now..it was time to do something with that new found motivation.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

the next day…

“All in favor of moving forward with the second decision, say I”

“I”

Meanwhile, the top brass at the renowned talent agency was in the midst of a very important meeting. One with a lot of dire topics being voted on and currently, this may have been the most pertinent of them all..

“That settles it, six to four. We’re getting Italian. Have the kitchen make enough carbonara to feed the National Guard. We’re gonna be here for a while.” earning a collective sigh from the roundtable. Seated on the top floor of the eighteen story building were some of the most powerful and brilliant minds in the entertainment industry..from multi-platinum recording artists to Grammy winning producers, any and everyone who had helped shape several as they were today were running AMG and making it the largest talent agency and label with over one hundred and fifty talents signed and billions in revenue every year. “Goddamnit, Levi. You know I’m trying to watch my figure right now and you’re not helping.” “I’m trying to watch it too and I think it looks just fine.” Seated at the head was chairman and former recording artist, Levi Ackerman. Second generation rockstar who hailed from a long line of talented musicians..best known for being the lead singer of notorious band, Paradis. Who had won over twenty Grammys and seven number ones during their tenure. The man across from him, Erwin Smith was his best friend and bandmate. The COO. Along with Miche Zacharius, who was also at the table. The lead drummer turned director of marketing. He was a genius when it came to advertising for these artists. He could take any budget and make it look as if it were worth millions. Perhaps, the most inquisitive mind there was the woman next to him and perhaps, his favorite person in the entire company. Vivian James-Ackerman. The Queen of Neo-Soul, five time Grammy winner and his beautiful wife of ten years..she was not only a generational talent with a sound inspiring many songs today; a creative director working on the set of many videos but a mentor to AMG’s biggest star, EJ the Don.

“You two are a mess..so, what are we gonna do about this little situation? We have PalmFest right around the corner and two of our biggest stars are currently out of commission. Think we can convince them to perform?”

“Not to worry, lovebug. I’m sure they’ll come around. Right, Levi?”

Next to Erwin was his beautiful wife of twenty years, Deanna Smith. She was a renowned R&B singer with a powerhouse voice for many years before trading in her sultry lyrics and silky vocals for the title of vice director of marketing. Her and Erwin had collabed on many tracks. Including one that was the talk of the tabloids, saying that it was far too ‘provocative’ for their time. But innovative, as it was the first time rock and R&B had meshed together and topped the charts.

“They damn well better or they’ll all find themselves out of a job. This is the first time in AMG history we’ll be hosting something of this caliber. Three days of music, entertainment..hell, if we pull this off, we might surpass Rolling Loud or Coachella in a couple years. Not to mention the cash it’ll bring in. Whatever those brats have going on, they better sort it out and quick.” When the president spoke, his word was absolute and everyone had done their part to make his vision come to life. Glancing around the table, they all nodded in agreement but among the tribe, there was always one person going against the grain. “Speaking of…” pressing his glass back to the table, Miche chimed in and added to the conversation; addressing the elephant in the room.. “..you know that niece of yours is one hell of a manager, Levi. She’s recruited some real heavy hitters in the past couple years. It’s hard to believe that someone so young has done the work she has..” as he continued talking, no one could attest to that. Mikasa was the top of her peer class in many areas. She was super talented. However, Director Zacharius had his reservations. “Even so, I’m a little concerned about her after news of her little outburst the other day. I mean, with something as huge as this on the line..how can we be certain she’s equipped to handle it? Are you sure we can leave her in charge of such a huge event?” His inquiry caused eyebrows to rise on each side. But as always, Levi remained steadfast, stoic and calm..twirling a pen between his fingers, he’d merely smirk and lean up before speaking.

“I’ll admit, she is quite the firecracker when she wants to be. Even as a little girl, she was a force and I’ll admit…the kid’s had her moments. Ones that have me doubtful of how well she could handle all of this pressure. The last thing I’d ever want is to see her or AMG collapse under the weight. Running a business is hard work..overseeing so many different people and ensuring that things run smoothly. CEO, chief operator, directors or managers. Nobody comes by these titles easily. All of it is a group effort and requires a lot of skill.”

as he continued with his speech, he’d clasp his hands together and take a stern look around the table..making one thing abundantly clear:

“With that being said, there’s no one more qualified to not only oversee this festival but one day, this company as well. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t take it easy on her, never have and I damn sure won’t now. I also won’t coddle her. This is the test to prove she’s worth her salt and that she’s capable of being a true leader. She screws up then she’s out the door but I believe as always, she’ll pull through for us and make the best of her talents. I trust that you all will place the same amount of faith I have in her and assist as much as possible.” and that was enough for everyone else! Of course, the co-sign would come from the one person who housed enthusiasm in their veins as if they needed it to breathe. “Well I think Mikasa is more than capable and I’m sure she’s gonna do amazing things. Let’s just help her with whatever we need to make this a success.”

Zoe Hange, nightclub owner and interim data analyst; in charge of ensuring that the budgets were in order. As they all reached that consensus, they felt confident in proceeding with the fun part and that was planning the festival. Getting all the acts, deciding the staff and of course, who would be performing! But as they all flipped through their files and scrolled their iPads with presentations on the screen, Vivian would lean over and ask her husband about one more burning question on her mind..

“You know, Eren would make a great addition to this lineup. I think we should make one more effort to get him on board.”

“If you want to go grovel to that brat, be my guest. As far as I’m concerned, he has one more strike before I drop his ass for good. Money and sales aside.” Levi uttered without so much as even lifting his head. But Vivian wasn’t as ready to give up on her protege. And instead, proposed something else..

“I’ll go pay him a visit. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my little mentee anyways. I miss him.” And all Levi could do was laugh because she knew that Vivian looked at EJ as more than just a former backup singer or pianist, she thought of him like her own son and treated him as such so if he were in any type of distress, she’d do whatever to solve it. He also knew there was no arguing with her when she got her mind set on something! Snickering, the president would just scribble down his signature on a few documents as the rest of the table conversed among themselves.

“Well, I trust your judgment, sweetheart. Whatever you think is best. But remember, we only have a month so we don’t have any time to waste on him or anyone else.” With that, she knew she had all the time she needed to make this work. Tomorrow, she’d be heading to his Miami Beach mansion to not only convince him to headline PalmFest.

but ensure his well being above all else.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

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maxipad031 · 1 year

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hey girl! i loveee ur account! can we get a best friends to lovers fic please? Shuri and reader are like 20, and reader realises she isn’t straight because she starts crushing on Shuri.<33

i like you silly

synopsis: fluffy and short fic where you start to realise your growing crush on your best friend, shuri. you don’t know where she stands, but she soon lets you know and you begin to understand yourself more.

contains: shuri x black reader, cute crushing, fluff, brief sadness, make out session, best friend to lovers x

and thank you smmm!🥰

novacane by frank ocean blasted in your sony headphones as you bopped your head continuously to the beat, your hand moving rapidly as you scribbled down equations for your calculus homework. it was literally due the next day and you'd forgotten all about it until your friend reminded you like 30 minutes ago through a lengthy text explaining how she lost it. your room was flipping messy, clothes on the floor, on the bed, heaped upon your vanity chair. the curtains were basically closed but there was a peak of natural light as your purple LED lights dominated the room, making it glow a soft lilac. something about purple just put you in a focusing mood, so yes your room had to be covered in it. just as the song was about to change, it stopped abruptly, and you shifted your gaze over to your phone, confused. sighing, you realised a call was coming through and when you saw who it was, your heart leaped in your chest.

my shuri <3

was displayed on the rectangular screen and you hurriedly fumbled everything away to pick up your phone to answer, crunching the papers under your weight in the process. as you clicked the bright green phone button, her breath taking voice came through into your headphones, loud as fuck.

"y/n, are you busy?" she asked softly, waiting patiently for your reply. you glanced at the phone, your homework underneath you and your phone again, "nope!" you answered, maybe way too excitedly.

"ah perfect, can you meet me at café moon in 10?"

"of course shuri, ill be there." you assured, packing away all your papers and into their designated folders, "is everything okay though?" you asked, realising its unusual behaviour for shuri to be calling you randomly since she's always busy with her tech projects.

"oh yeah, i just want to see you, make sure you're okay." she replied, her voice laced with some kind of additive that made you want to hear it all the time.

"okay, see you hunnie buns." she didn't reply straight away, but you cut off the call as you didn't want to hear her reply to your bold action anyways. well, to be honest, it wasn't even that weird because in your....friendship, you called each other lots of things like bae, darling, love, honey. it didn't really mean anything....or so you thought. you disconnected your headset and slipped it off, resting it on your oak desk as you attempted to make your dorm room look at least a little presentable, just in case you both came back here. shuri was used to your room being a mess though, she always says "it adds to your character, " with that silly, cute eye smile she does that makes you want to just give her pecks all over her face.

your mind often wavered like this and at first it was just subtle, cute scenarios you'd imagine before going to bed, but now it's just full blown delusion, things that would never happen between the two of you; i'll leave that up to your imagination.

you'd always identified as a straight individual since all you did were date boys in high school, but after meeting shuri, all of that went straight out the window and you've only been able to look at her: everyone else is blotted out with a black marker pen. she's in the centre of your thoughts, running around in your head rent free. you'd never really had close friends, so you orignally thought it was your clinginess that made you so drawn to her, constantly wanting to be around her at all times. however lately, it didn't make sense that you'd been feeling this way for this long, almost two years now. you usually lost interest in other friends you had but this was different, it was so clear now,

you fucking liked her.

it was a hard pill to swallow, the fact you were probably bisexual...or a lesbian? actually no, because you genuinely had feelings for the guys you dated, so you're probably bi...you think? whatever, labels confuse you and you don't care about them. right now, you're shurisexual and that's all that matters.

you sat up on your bed to look in the illuminating mirror as you ruffled your tangled curls, to the left, to the right, just everywhere until it looked nice and presentable. you were already wearing a large purple hoodie, so you just replaced your booty shorts with baggy ripped jeans. quite motivated to look nice, you picked up your makeup pouch from the vanity table and began to touch up your face, only a little concealer and lip gloss. once that was done, you cleaned your room further, stuffing your disorganized clothes deep inside your closet and kicking any loose objects under the double bed. with a deep sigh, you grabbed your phone and the keys from the drawer before heading out, making sure to lock your door securely. you walked quickly past all the loud kids occupying the dorm hallway, and rushed down the spiral stairs to basically sprint outside. as there were no cars coming at that moment, you crossed the quite busy road and ran down to the café shuri had told you to meet her at.

by the time you arrived, you were huffing and puffing as you tried to catch your breath. you had no idea why you ran but it was probably due to the fact you were so eager to see your best friend again after like two days. the cafe’s large glass windows exposed it’s interior. it wasn’t that busy and looked calm as always, everyone minding their own business studying or talking. as you grabbed the door handle, you eyes flickered to a familiar presence . it was shuri, sitting on a high chair that was facing the window, which faced the street, and seemingly engrossed in something on her phone as she scrolled. you walked in and the bell above the shop door rung at your arrival as shuri’s head whipped in your direction. you adjusted your hair behind your ear shyly and watched as she flashed you a bright smile while you walked over towards her.

“heyy ma, how is my darling.” she greeted, wrapping her long arm around your torso as you hugged each other. her embrace was comforting, you never wanted to let go. unfortunately, you had to depart from her and when you did, you sat down on the high chair next her.

“shuri, you forgot about me for two days, huh.” you scolded jokingly, as you crossed your arms and fake pouted.

“you know that’s not the case y/n.” she laughed at your fake act, taking a sip of coffee that she just ordered, “do you want anything to eat or drink?” she asked in a caring manner as her hands nestled in her lap.

“nah i’m alright, thanks though.” you played with the hem of your hoodie subtly as you grew nervous under her gaze. this was such an unusual feeling, you were normally the one making people shy, not the other way around. she nodded and rested her elbows on the shelf-like table before you both. she stared outside for a minute, her sharp jawline flexing as her eyes travelled. she has recently cut her curly hair and it was shaved at the sides, leaving the top sitting nicely and dropping over her forehead. the day she sent you that selfie pic of her freshly-cut hair, a tear ran down your leg; it was so attractive on her and she definitely knew it. you were beginning to understand that you didn’t wanna be her, you wanted to be with her. she wore a purple tracksuit this day, kimoyo beads wrapped around her slender wrists and her sunglasses propped up the middle of her forehead. she clicked her tongue softly and spun the chair around to face you,

“i have something to say.” she announced. your heart jumped and skipped and hopped before falling back down into your ass. you knew she wasn’t going to say what you thought she was going to say, but it was nerve wracking nontheless.

“go on.” you said, eyes wide open in anticipation.

“i’m going back to wakanda in two weeks.” shuri replied, playing with her glowing kimoyo beads as her eyes darted around the small cafe, avoiding your eye contact.

“wait what, why?!” the corner of your lip twitched with disappointment.

“my brothers funeral, i must be there.” she said, smiling weakly as an emotion of sadness washed over her eyes simultaneously. seeing her grieve for her brother broke your heart into a million pieces and you wanted to do nothing but comfort her. you slowly reached over her lap to cup her cold hands in yours. you massaged it lightly as you looked up at her, “that’s totally fine shuri, i’ll be here waiting for you.” shuri shifted her gaze to you and you swear for a split second it was a look that said, “i love you so much,” but it also might’ve been your imagination. she gave you another hug, squeezing you so tight, you had to tap her shoulder for her to soften up a little, “you don’t know how much i appreciate you y/n.” she sniffed a bit as she pulled away from you, holding her head up ever so lightly so stop any welling tears from escaping.

“hey, why don’t we go back to mine.” you suggested, pulling her up off the high chair. seeing her upset broke you and you wanted to cheer her up as soon as possible. shuri grabbed her now cold-coffee with her free hand and nodded her head as she obliged. you both stood up to leave and you led her out of the shop. the sun was blazing above and you instantly regretted wearing a big hoodie. shuri seemed to notice your discomfort as you constantly pulled at the neck of the clothing,

“you should come to wakanda, you’d die if you wore something like that outside.” she commented picking up the pace to walk beside you, her infamous eye smile displaying itself and making you melt as you stared at her.

you chuckled before replying, “take me then, i’ve always wanted to go.” you unintentionally held her hand as you crossed the road together. shuri paused and stared down at the interconnection of your hands; she didn’t pull away but held on tighter instead. you didn’t even notice the small act of affection as you scanned the road, careful you both didn’t get hit.

“alright.” shuri whispered under her breath, seriously contemplating to take you with her.

~~~

“how dare you plus five me, what the fuck!” you yelled, as shuri aggressively put down a blue +5 card. you two had resorted to playing uno flip and right now, she had you fucked up. she’d never played it until now but boy did she pick up the game fast, she even knew tactics to stop you from winning.

“sorry but i’m not letting you win.” shuri smirked as she watched you reluctantly pick up five cards from the deck when you previously had two cards left. the game resumed and you stared menacingly at her, your competitive side really coming out. shuri had four cards left whilst you ended up with seven from picking some up. she put some reverses, which skipped your turn, but just before she put down the second to last card, you yelled out UNO before she could realise and you cackled maniacally, picking up two cards to give to her. shuri quickly realised her mistake and shook her head, “you didn’t even tell me i had to say uno when i had one card left.”

“yes i did? that’s the point of the game.” you arched your eyebrow.

“you didn’t.”

“wanna fight?” you asked jokingly, putting your cards to the side and pretending to pack up your thick hair.

“like you’d win.” shuri rolled her eyes and cuffed up her sleeves as she put her cards to the side as well.

full on ready to actually wrestle with her, you leaped from your side on the bed to hers and she surprisingly caught you, flipping you over and laughing as she pretended to punch you,

“please please please, let me live, oh mighty black panther please!” you closed your eyes as if you were scared, rubbing your hands together as a sign of mercy. you were the only one here in america that knew she was the black panther by accident, and you’d sworn to never tell a soul.

after you heard nothing, you opened your eyes to peek and saw her doing a funny face. you both then bust out laughing at your silly behavior, forgetting that she was still on top of you. your laughing started to die down before you suddenly realised the position you were both in and instantly start to panic. her face was literally inches away from yours, as her minty breath tickled your nose. completely rapt, you didn’t know what to do so you just lifted your hands up to hold the sides of her small waist. she felt the sudden touch, and looked down at you, also realising how close in proximity you were to each other. you could do nothing but stare at her lips, perfectly two toned, glistening from the lip vaseline she always uses, and slightly parted. the urge to kiss her was so strong and nearly overtook you but your mind started to ramble and it unfortunately transferred into words out loud,

“shuri, i’m so sorry, i know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but i like you, i really do, i’ve been liking you since i met you, i just didn’t know how to say it, i’m sorry, you probably don’t even feel the same way, but i just felt like i needed to-”

it seemed like shuri had the same thing in mind as your words were interrupted, by the feeling of her soft lips placed upon yours, maybe as a way to indirectly tell you to shut up. your eyes were wide open from shock but you shut them and kissed her back with a more needy approach. it felt like you were in another realm entirely, just you and her, together, nothing else mattered. your lips moved in sync as you held onto her waist tighter, liking the way her body felt on top yours. before you could slip some tongue in, she pulled away licking her lips as her eyes danced around the room, seemingly embarrassed by what just occurred. she gently climbed off of you and sat up, packing away the uno cards. you held yourself upright with your elbows watching her contently.

“shuri.”

she didn’t reply, focused on tidying up the bed.

“shuri!” you held your hand to stop her from her actions and she stared at you blankly before grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you into another kiss.

what in the world was happening right now.

her hands were enveloped in your brown locks and you pulled her closer, putting your hands on her shoulders to deepen the intimate kiss that was being shared by the two of you. shuri seemed like she wanted this for a long time, but so did you and you were going to make every second count. she was the first to slip her tongue in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. her muscular arms wrapped around your waist and propped you up onto her lap impatiently. you’d previously taken your hoodie off when you two came back and so you were left in a white tank top. her large hands rubbed against your chest area unintentionally and that riled you up even further. the kiss got hungrier, deeper as you snaked your hands around her neck, fingers laced in her tight coils as you devoured each other.

honestly, if this carried on, it was going to lead to something else and you didn’t think you were fully ready for that right now especially if shuri didn’t feel as deeply for you as well, so you hesitantly parted your lips away from shuri’s, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of you. shuri breathed heavily as she looked up at you through her chocolate orbs, her lips having grown in size from the fervent make out session. you adjusted your top that had rode up from the touching and carefully got down from shuri’s lap,

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, i don’t know what came of over me, i understand if you don’t like me anymore i’m sorry-” shuri blabbered, worried to death that she’d made you feel weird, hence why you stopped.

“no shuri, that was amazing, of course i like you silly, i just told you a whole essay about it.” you giggled, placing your forehead on hers lovingly, “i stopped because i just have a question to ask you.” you said mysteriously, as you sat up against the headboard of your double bed.

“go ahead,” shuri urged you to continue as she followed you, also moving so her back was against the headboard.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” you inquired bluntly. you didn’t think you’d ever say that to anyone but surprise surprise, here you were.

“i thought you’d never ask.” shuri hugged you for the 30th time that day and you hugged her back, filled with absolute bliss. you were so certain she’d reject you but her feelings for you might’ve been even stronger than yours for her; no that’s impossible. you couldn’t wait for what’s the future held for you two as well as how your relationship would work out. however, not everything was all roses and daisies as you remembered that’s she’s eventually going to leave you soon.

“wait shuri, aren’t you leaving, i’m not going to be able to see you.” you pouted, holding her hands as your head was down in woe.

“well, you said you wanted to come, didn’t you, i can definitely organize that.” shuri replied, lifting your chin up to look at her.

“what!? you don’t mean it...i can go to wakanda?! oh my god, no fucking way, i’ve always wanted to go! shuri, i could literally buy you a lamborghini right now.” you yelled out, full of excitement as you jumped off the bed and ran laps around your small dorm room screaming your head off like a lunatic, almost tripping on the loose objects all over the floor.

shuri laughed wholeheartedly at your thrilled uproar, loving how gorgeous you looked when you were happy. this was going to be a great few weeks for you two.

🫶

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