#he’s mingling with guests and casually goes

[spider-man-199999]

The bracelet pt 2

pairing: Nathan Drake x Reader

word count: 4,4 K

warnings: 18+; smut; public sex; unpotected sex

summary: You meet Nathan while he's working at the bar. He recognizes you and tries to steal your bracelet because he knows you're filthy rich. Instead, you manage to steal his heart.

Read part 1 here!

a/n: I didn't proof read the smut part but there goes nothing!

A couple of months went by since Nate decided to disappear into thin air. It was such a pitty that it had to end before it even began, which made your already broken heart ache even more. People say the best remedy in such cases is to drown yourself in so much work. That was precisely what you wered trying to do. You spent most of your days in the hotel, deciding the lobby and bar could use a renovation. Not that it looked bad before, but you needed a fresh start with this place. Your ex was not very keen on the idea of change but reluctantly agreed to let you do as you pleased, as long as it would keep you busy. So, two months after the start of this ambitious project, you were standing in the brand-new lobby of The Ritz-Carlton. You did your best to keep the spirit and style of the building but with a few modern touches of technology, which appealed so much more to the guests. The hotel was more busy with events than ever before, weddings, galas, balls, charity events, all because of the work you had but in. Bussiness was really picking up, The Ritz-Carlton had turned in the hottest spot in New York.

Besides the undeniably significant time and effort you had dedicated to the marketing of the place, your personal life seemed like it was put on hold. The paparazzi had been sneaking around town, trying to catch a sight of you doing something mildly interesting. However, they would fail miserably to this task. All of the recent news about you were only in regards of The Ritz-Carlton and event you had organized, praises on your astonishing work. Occasionall pictues of you and some friends clothes shopping would appear here and there but nothing major or scandalous.

At other times, late at night when you were laying in your king-sized bed and staring the ceiling, while the city lights shined through the thin curtians of your bedroom, your mind couldn't help but wander. And somehow it would always end up on Nate. Restlessly wondering what he was doing, where he was. But wherever he was, whatever he was doing, the only place you knew for sure he was never going to leave, was your head. After his departure you didn’t really have any interest in dating, even declining a few date offers from some very wealthy and famous people. Trying to mingle was not necessarily a bad thing, but every time such thoughts popped up in your head, you’d look out the window and see the faint sparkles of the same stars that Nate spent hours talking about. It made you feel nostalgic, knowing no one else could ever take you on a date and make something casual appear so fun. That alone made you give up on the idea of pursuing someone else, at least for the time being.

And while you were busy buraying your head into the piles and piles of demanding and much nessecary work, Nate himself had very different plans. He took the task of becoming wealthy to heart and persused that with the first opportunity that he stumbled upon. That was exactly why he took up Sully's proposal to work together and left. He left for long, but not for good. Now that he had a few dollars in his pocket, he decided it was time to make his advancment towards you showing you his brand new persona. His heart was filled with excitemet and anxiety, he knew he was gone for a long time but he hoped that you had kept your promise and waited for him. He was trying his best to keep up with the news about you, reading every newspaper, magazine, interview. All this time he was thinking of you, dreaming of you. The man wanted to tell you everything, to explain where he went, to watch your fascinated eyes sparkle while he told you the story of his adventure with Sully. So, as soon as he came back to New York, he stated working on his new, expensive image. He changed his wardrobe, his car, he rented out a new place. A whole new man by the looks of it, but not in his heart, not in his feelings for you. He renovated himself the way you were renovating The Ritz-Carlton. So, a month after he came back, a month after all the work, he decided it was finally time to approch you.

The day seemed like any normal day for you, sitting at your desk in the office of the hotel, filling in the upcoming events in the callendar. You checked on the progress of the current agenda - a wedding. You made a few phone calls and after doing the diplomatic work, that took no longer than a couple of hours, you decided to run some personal errands, such as picking up drycleaning and other mundane tasks. You stored most of your personal items in a room in the hotel for covenience, but it did mean that sometimes, like today, you had to leave the place with a few zipper bags full of clothes. The weather was starting to get colder and colder with each day, warm and careless summer nights seemed like only a memory that was sitting close to your heart now. The leaves were starting to change colors but that did not make New York look any less beautiful on your side of town. But the chilly weather meant warmer clothes, and a need to add a lot more layers on your body before walkig outside.Fortunately enough the sweather dress you had on was still going to do the job if you to put a coat on top, which annoyed you to an unbelieveble extent. It just meant more weight on you as you carried the cleaned clothes all the way back to your apartment. Holding the, what felt like an ungodly amount of weight of clothes over you shoulder, you walked out of the building. You were met by a gigantic rose bouquet, probably 50 roses or more, right in front of your face, held up by someone who you couldn't quite see. You shook your head, moving past the person and walking away.

"Hey, hey, Y/N, come on" you heard from behind you, the voice was somehow familiar but you couldn't link it to a face for the first few seconds.

You turned around, freezing in your spot, but not because of the low temperature outside.

"I've been standing here for hours and you won't even say hi" he laughed, moving to hold the bouquet in only one of his arms "You have no idea how many excited screechings I had to go through, followed by disappointed looks. Have I really become this unattractive?"

You were still frozen in your tracks while he went on, trying to process the sight in front of your eyes combined with the information in your brain. Your head felt like it was spinning and everything was somehow like it was in a haze.

"I think you managed to break me" you finally spoke. And it was the truth, the shock had taken over your body. It felt like you were dreaming. Did you accidentally fall asleep in your hotel room? You couldn't really tell.

"Well, I was hoping for more of an excited running into my arms, maybe even shedding a happy tear."

"Nate what the actual hell?"

It finally got through to you. Nathan Drake was standing right there, in front of you, a bouguet of 50 roses in his hands. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that hugged his body perfectly, his dark hair was styled back with gel. He looked even better than you remembered, making your heart beat so fast that you felt like you were going to faint. He laughed softly at your shocked reaction, making a few steps towards you.

"If you're not going to hug me, can I hug you at least?" He asked, wrapping the free arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

You wrapped your own free arm around him, your head rested against his body as you closed your eyes. You still couldn't believe he was really there, but the warmth of his torso was proving you otherwise. Hot streams of tears rolled down your cheeks, your emotions prevailing.

"Oh my god is that Dior?" you sniffled softly against his chest once you opened your eyes, them landing on the fabric of his clothes.

"I had to impress you." he shrugged and let go of you, brusbing a tear from your face. "There they are, the trears!" he chuckled.

You shook your head in disbelief, taking a step back from him. You had so many questions to ask, it felt like your head was going to explode, followed by the rest of your body. A cool breeze blew past the two of you, making your hair softly sway to the side while you held eye contact with him. It kind of brought you back into reality, in your dreams it was never cold, just endless summer.

"I have so many things to ask-" you started, but were cut off by the flowers being shoved in your face.

"Take these, my back hurts, I've been carrying them for so long"

"I have 3 bags of drycleaning in my hands, literally" you whined to him, moving the bags to your front and with a swift motion placing them over your forearm.

"Well in such case, why don't we take my car and you can ask anything you'd like?" he offered, reaching in his pocket and taking out the keys to unlock a black Mercedez GL that was parked on the street next to the two of you.

"That's your car?"

"Yes" he replied shortly, opening the back door and placing the roses inside gently.

"Who are you? What did you do to Nate?"

He laughed at your response, taking your bags off of you and putting them in the car as well before he grabbed your hand and pulled you towardws him. Like the gentleman he was, his arm wrapped around your waist before he held the passenger door for you, closing it after you sat inside.

"Can I ask my questions now?" you asked once the two of you drove off in an unknown to you direction.

"You can ask and ruin my very cool bad ass story about how I have money now or..." he said, turning his head towards you with a playful spark in his eyes and and a cheerful smile. "You could wait for us to get where I'm taking you and let me explain everything."

"Yeah I think I preffer asking, actually"

He shook his head and laughed at you, stopping at a red light.

"Okay fine, but you're totally killing the vibe."

"Okay I'll ask only one question now and you can tell me your mindblowing story whenever you think is best."

"We have a deal."

"Fine, then, why didn't you warn me about leaving? It was kind of scary to just have you stop showing up to work one day."

Heavy silence followed after your question echoed into the car. You turned your head to stare at his expression, studying his side profile. You could see his brows furrow while he thought of the answear, one arm let go of the wheel, elbow against the armrest on the car door while he rubbed a finger under his nose, his hand covering his mouth. He kind of seemed nervous.

"Well, honestly it wasn't something I planned to happen, it just did." he said finally.

It was your turn to furrow your brows now, but in utter confusion.

"You make it sound like you were abducted"

"More like recruited? I didn't have the time to find you and explain everything, and it's not like I have your number to call. You wanted to keep things professional between us. And I couldn't even think about explaining anything back then, you know? I wasn't really sure what was going to happen either."

"But it was scary. We didn't know if you were alive or not, you could have gotten into an accident or something, I had no information on you. I made the restaurant manager call you and your phone was turned off, I called in all the hospitals in the region around the hotel and around your apartment for you."

"I didn't know you were so worried."

"I was, I felt horrible and responsible. For a moment I thought about calling the police and tell them you were missing."

"Gosh, you care so much about me? It's almost as if you like me or something?" he joked, trying to break the tense atmosphere.

"Oh my god" you whispered in annoyance, laughing softly at his words.

It was odd, you never imagined yourself actually being into someone like him, someone so different to the men you were used to dating. But there you were, in his car, following him with no direction to wherever he pleased to go. Before you even had time to try and continue this conversation, he parked the car and turned the engine off.

The second you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the sounds of waves crashing into land and the fresh smell of salt water. It was already late in the evening when Nate picked you up from the hotel, which meant it had gotten cold enough outside to make you shiver, even without the soft breeze that was blowing. You looked around, your attention immediately captured by the flickering lights of the amusement park on Coney Island. Unfortubately for you, who got excited from the thought of riding some of the rides with Nate, even if it meant you would look like crazy people wearing something so formal there, the park was closed and everyone was long gone. Your head turned to look for Nate in confusion, seeing him stand next to you with his hands in his pockets. He reached out a hand for you, taking yours and motioning for him to follow you. And you did, once again, follow him without asking any questions. He lead you towards the beach, an area that was unfamiliar to you. Soon you reached a big bell tent, open and inside there was a set-up simillar to your first date night with him - poof chairs, blankets, fairly lights. He walked you inside, helping you sit on one of the poof chairs and plopping down on one himself. You coudln't lie, it was so thoughtful, so beautiful and romantic. For the second time this cocky, slightly annoying man had left you speechless. You were so mesmerized by the scenery that you didn't even notice him stand and take out a bottle of champage out of somewhere and pour it in two glasses. You took one of them, clicking it with his before taking a sip.

"Nate this is... I don't even know what to say."

"Don't get used to it, it's my apology for leaving the way I did." He sat down next to you

"Well that was anticlimatic"

"I didn't mean it that way." he rolled his eyes, placing the glass on the ground. "I wanted this to be special, we haven't seen each other in so long and in my head this whole thing was going to happen in the summer but plans got delayed."

"Is now the time for you to tell me the amazing story of Nathan Drake's adventure?"

"You bet it is!" he laughed.

And he did tell you everything, about his brother and about Sully. He he went into great detail about everything that he went through in the last few months. And while he was speaking, you were going through every possible emotion you could think of, listening with your jaw practically on the floor. He would laugh at your reactions, copying your face to make fun of you.

"You're awful!" you would whine, hitting his chest playfully

"Oh, I'm awful? Why are you here then?"

"You're lucky, I like awful."

''You know..." he started, taking his glass and finishing the remaining content in it. "The whole time I couldn't really stop thinking about you."

Silence suddnely fell upon the two of you after his words, making your gaze turn from the pleasant view of the outside beach to the more pleasant one, his eyes.

"I thougut about you too" you whispered softly.

"It got the point where I couln't really... get rid of this" he reached for the inside pocket of his tux, taking out the diamond bracelet that you gave him.

It sparkled softly under the soft fairly lights around you. Your eyes stared at his hand, moving rapidly between his face and his palm. You couldn't believe your eyes. No matter how hard you tried, the damn bracelet somehow just wouldn't leave your life. Truthfully, you didn't really know what you were feeling in that moment. You were upset because you wanted to get rid of it at all cost, but in a weird, nostalgic way, you were glad to see it.

"Actually, I had it on me the whole time, to remind me of you." he spoke after he noticed your state.

Suddenly all the negative associations you had with the expensive item melted away and were replaced by the hearthwarming feelings his words brought. He put the bracelet on your wrist, making you shiver with the contact.

"Can I be honest about something?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the diamonds.

He nodded in response, making you look back at him.

"Truly, I've never met anyone so... romantic?"

"After everything you thought THAT was romantic?"

"No, I mean this whole thing. The flowers, the beach, the bracelet. This is more romantic than a proposal, and I've been proposed to... twice."

"The beach was actually a reference to something else." He mumbled before taking a sip from his glass.

It made you think for a second and suddenly the memory of your first intearaction came to the surface, making you blush.

"You dog!" you laughed, looking at him with the side of your eye.

He laughed as well, laying on his side, turning his body in your direction.

"Come here." he said, reffering to his chair.

You did your best to move over to him eleganly, not sure how well it worked out judging by his giggles. Or maybe he was just tipsy from the champagne? You sat down next to him, having him wrap an arm around your shoulders like he did on your first date. Your head rested against his chest while you snuggled up against him, only now realizing how actually cold you were before that. You closed your eyes, listening to the rythmic sound of his heartbeat as your hand rested against his stomach. You couldn't tell how long you sat there like this before you started playing with his tie. He noticed your actions, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before his hand travelled down to your waist, drawing soft circles on it. In the moment of silence, you could hear the sound of waves crashing in the background and it felt so calm, so perfect, even. Nate's hand was now slowly travelling up and down your back, going further down with each movement, until it finally landed on your butt. You giggled into his chest when you felt his hand there, making you look up at him. The both of you stared into each other's eyes for what felt like forever, until his lips finally crashed into yours. The kiss was passionate and long, it tasted like champagne and it was enough to make your head spin, while your hand left the tie alone and moved to his shoulder. His grip on your ass was now harsh and needy, trying to pull your hips closer to his own while he was squeezing. You broke the heated kiss to catch your breaths, suddenly feeling shy because of the butterflies that were going wild to the rythm of your heartbeats. You started kissing his jawline, softly, to hide that fact, your hand loosening the tie around his neck. Nate was quick to get out of his jacket, throwing it on the floor. His hands found their way back to your body, touching and grabbing everything he could. You took off his tie, placing it over your own head. He laughed at your act, pulling you by that same tie now and kissing you hungrily again. This time he was even more passionate, if that were even possible, his tongue danced against yours while his hands grabbed your wast and pulled you over on top of him, making you sit on his lap. Your hands were grabbing his hair, ruining the way he had styled it. After a few minutes of making out, you broke the kiss for air again. Now he looked more like the Nate you remembered, no fancy tuxedo, no tie, just a normal, very handsome guy. You smiled at him, undoing the bottons on his shirt while his hands roamned around your body. Once the shirt was undone and open, you had to bite your lip at the sight of his body. You knew he was toned, you just didn't know he was actually shredded as well. He smiled confidently at your reaction, but you kissed him before he could make the snarky comment you knew was already formed in his head.

You were growing more and more needy for him by the minute and he knew. Truth was, the feeling was mutual. He spent too many nights alone in bed thinking about this, thinking about you, imagining the exact moment your hands would be in his hair, his lips would be on yours. He couldn't help but be impatient, try to push you towardws going further and further into the heat of the moment. And while he was so lost in this timeless dance of your tongues together, the reality of his deepest desire being better than anything he could ever imagine, you had to break the kiss, making him moan with annoyance.

"Can we really do it here?" You asked, out of breath

"What's stopping us?" he asked back, attacking your jaw and neck with his lips.

"Well it's kind of... public?"

"You were the one.... who wanted.... sex on the beach" he said between kisses.

"The cocktail, Nate"

"I suggested the cocktail, you wanted the other thing"

"You really need to learn when to shut up"

"You need to learn how to lose an arguement"

You rolled your eyes at him but kissed him again, your hands undoing his belt and pants. He was smiling through the whole kiss, which made you even more annoyed with his cockiness. Speaking of cock, his was painfully hard, and you could tell by the way it twitched when your hand accidentally brushed against it in the process of unzipping his pants. You wasted no time, your eagerness was matching his and the thrill of someone catching you in the act was sending a type of feeling through your veins that you couldn't remember feeling before. Was it adreanline? Or were you just incredibly turned on? You slipped his member out of the boxers as well, giving it a few strokes with your hand which resulted in a hitched breath, followed by moans from Nate. He wasn't going to waste time either, hand slipping under your dress and pulling your panties to the side so he could touch you as well. The kiss was broken at that point, both of you looking into eachother's eyes. You two knew already there was no need for any foreplay since you were almost dipping on his fingers now and without saying anything, he grabbed your waist ang guided you to hover above him. The poof was a bit too unstable to help you with balancing on your knees but it had to do. Your hand held his dick in place before you slipped down on it slowly, making Nate throw his head back in ecstacy.

"This is so much better than I expected" he said holding you down while you were adjusting to the size.

It didn't take you long, pecking his lips before you started moving your hips in circles while you watched the expression on his face change from sweet and loving to lustful. He helped you move up and down his lenght because your mind was now too preoccupied and overstimulated to have such a complex thought about rythim and movement. It was all him and him only, nothing else in the world existed but this. He pulled your chess to his while you bounced on him, his hands now on your ass to guide you while his moans filled your ear. You weren't holding back on moaning or saying his name either, it simply felt too good to even try. Your hands were touching his muscles while you moved, your lips nibbling and biting on his neck. At some point your nails were digging into the skin of his chest and arms, but your mind was too clouded to even notice that. All you could really feel was the way he stretched your walls, his own hips now moving upwards to be fucking into you. You bit on his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around him, and from the looks of it, he was feeling that you were close as well. He groaned your name deciding it was a good idea to push your hips down while he slammed himself into you, making you yelp as he hit a spot you didn't know existed. It felt so good you were having doubts it was real. You started screaming his name, feeling yourself finally release onto him while he moaned and moved. His hand travelled up from your ass to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you into a very tight hug while he moaned and groaned. You felt him cum inside you just as you were done with your orgams, your body collapsing onto his. You sat like this for a while, panting, hearts wildly beating.

"You have to tell me where you get your clothes dry cleaned, my pants are ruined"

"Jesus Christ, Nathan! I just gave you an orgasm and you're thinking about dry cleaning?"

"Yeah because of that orgasm, my pants are ruined, we orgasmed everywhere!"

You sat up to look at him, your hands on his chest while you shook your head.

"Okay fine. Our second date will be at the dry cleaners."

"Technically this was the second date."

"I hate you, so much."

"Oh, darling, we both know you don't."

#fanfiction #nathan drake x y/n #nathan drake smut #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake #uncharted imagine #uncharted #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #nathan drake imagine #nathan drake x you #peter parker x reader

[just-jordie-things]

omg i love the way u write jjk characters! i was reading ur work and had a scenario that i thought would be so fun to read from you if you like the idea! i was thinking abt if you got drunk with them at the school (like maybe all the students sneak to one persons dorm or something), how they would act drunk, how they would treat u, what would happen etc. my favs are toge and yuji but you could do whoever ofc!

ok idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but since i've wrtten a few fics now where drinking/partying was the theme, i'm gonna assign the jjk crews their party night roles lolol so enjoy

ITADORI YUUJI is the life of the party, obviously. he's the type to bring jello shots to the function and if no one wants them, he'll eat em all himself. he's the guy that you dare to do stuff as the night goes on. he's the guy that somehow, at the end of each party, is missing a shirt. did he go swimming? did someone spill on it? did he spill on it? (most likely) everyone laughs but no one really complains about it. he's always got a fun plan or game in mind to keep the night going, and everyone's happy to have him there.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is the shy-at-first guest. he's slow when he first gets there, and always claims he doesn't want to get too fucked up. he's got a never ending amount of excuses up his sleeve as to why he can't take that shot with you, or be your partner for beer pong. but give him an hour to warm up. he'll spend that time lining up a fire playlist and semi-mingling. the trick to getting him to loosen up? just a quick smoke first. don't jump on him with it, but if he sees a joint being passed around, he can't resist just a couple puffs. what's the harm, right? a couple puffs and he's giving in to whatever other party shenanigans come his way.

KUGISAKI NOBARA is in charge of the photography for the evening. everyone's instagrams and snapchat stories are well taken care of when she's around. in the early parts of the evening they're casual photos, fit checks, some candids of the laughing group as they play games or eat pizza. she's quite good with lighting and angles, and no one complains when she shoves her phone in their face. as the night goes on, she probably documents more than she should- toge drawing on yuuta's face while he's passed out, yuuji shirtless and covering himself in whipped cream on a dare- but it's always too funny to go through them the next day and delete half the evidence.

PANDA is the dancer. if he's drinking, he's dancing. it doesn't matter how many drinks are in his system. it doesn't matter if the music is particularly fun- or even playing. he's got too much excitement from hanging out with his friends and is down for a good time. he's also easy to coerce into pranking someone.

INUMAKI TOGE is the coercer of pranks. if someone passes out, he's always got a marker on him. he always has the best dares for truth or dare, and isn't afraid when others want to get their revenge. he's that class-clown energy at the party. sometimes it's annoying, but it's always undeniably funny. he definitely likes those tacky party favors from spencers. especially the big dick shaped syringes for taking shots. he's got a lot of sus 'party decorations'. but let's be real it's really fucking funny when he breaks out the newest one. also if he gets too drunk he will use his cursed speech for the sake of humor.

ZEN'IN MAKI is the bartender and general caretaker of the group. she's the best at mixed drinks and knows everyone's favorite, but always has something new to try. as the designated bartender she's also the one subtly making sure everyone is on a good track for the night. most of the time it just meant keeping an eye on yuuji and toge, reminding them to have some water every once in a while went a long way. and she's not afraid to cut you off if you're getting sloppy. i also think she'd roll the fattest, cleanest joints when she's not mixing drinks.

OKKOTSU YUUTA is the first to fall asleep. he's a good time, don't get me wrong. he loves the games and the dancing and the goofing around, but he's an overworked boy and... a bit of a lightweight. motherfucker takes two hits and is shaking his head the rest of the rotation. it's kinda cute that his eyes get all red after so little before he raids the snack table. maki knows he has a five drink limit before he either needs to drink water or rally or... as usual, he's slumped into the couch and snoozing away. it's a miracle that he can sleep so hard when the music is blasting and everyone has to yell to be heard- especially when it's itadori yelling. by the end of the night, someone's thrown a blanket over him, and toge's vandalized his face with permanent marker.

#THIS WAS SO FUN AAHHH HEHEHE #megumi brainrot #yuuji brainrot #nobara brainrot #maki brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujtusu kaisen fanfiction #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader

[sam24]

Bucky Barnes: Wedding Cop

Summary: It’s Bucky’s best friend’s wedding. Well too bad that this particular best friend was Steve Rogers, who seemed to be a nervous wreck, wanting everything to go off without a hitch. So what does he do? Force Bucky into patrolling duty. Lucky for him, one of Natasha’s gorgeous bridesmaids, who looked like she had been assigned to babysitting duty, makes his rounds around the garden estate a lot more interesting.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

no powers au | first meets

*****

Bucky grumbled as he yanked at the tie that was pulling on his neck, courtesy of his best friend.

”All right Buck, I put my full faith in you. Everything better go perfectly from here on out,” Steve fumbled, trying to hide his worries with a casual fix of his best buddy’s tie. “ Remember, Tony is not allowed to dance on the tables again. And don’t let anyone else get too drunk and weird. Nothing is allowed to ruin Natasha’s big night.”

“It’s your big night too, Steve.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying and go find your wife.”

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve pleaded. “You already know that her parents don’t like me that much. If something goes wrong on their daughter’s wedding night, they’ll literally hate me forever.”

“I think they already hate you for not being Russian.”

“You’re not funny.” Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“Look, Stevie,” Bucky pushed his friend’s hands away from his tie that was starting to choke him a tad. “You got married to Natasha, not to her parents. Her love for you is absolutely crazy, and nothing’s gonna change that, even if her parents aren’t that fond of you. Which by the way means that something is totally wrong with them.”

Steve cracked a smile.

“Stop worrying about them, punk,” Bucky continued. “You're wasting your time here stressing out when you could be dancing with Natasha, just enjoying your life. Your married, for fuck’s sake. At least act like you like it.”

“Jerk.” Steve shoved Bucky’s shoulder with a grin.

“So that means I’m off security duty?”

“You wish.”

Bucky’s cheeky grin dropped.

“What’re you waiting for?” Steve smirked. “I think you’re a bit too old for me to sign you off for some volunteer hours.”

Bucky lazily scanned the garden, watching people chat, laugh, and dance (and basically everything he wished he were doing other than playing cop).

The garden itself was beautifully landscaped, featuring carefully manicured flower beds bursting with a riot of colors. Roses, peonies, and daisies created a tapestry of blooms, their sweet fragrance filling the air and scent mingling with the soft, gentle breeze.

Bucky’s eyes caught Steve and Natasha talking quietly in each other’s ears in the corner, pure love evident on both their faces, hiding from the crowd to get a second to themselves.

A smile pulled on Bucky’s face, his heart melting at the sight. However, he was more than happy to point somebody’s grandma in the direction of the newlyweds after she had tugged on his sleeve and asked if he knew where they were, wanting to talk to the couple.

Bucky silently cursed at his best friend as he watched the old lady slowly make her way over to them. That’s what you get, you bastard.

He continued walking aimlessly around the garden, and as Bucky neared the large oak tree where he first started his lap, he saw a large group of young kids laughing hysterically and running in circles around someone.

Bucky peered past the children, trying to catch a glimpse of the poor person in the middle, wanting to get a quick laugh before he had to go back to his job.

He spotted you in the center of the game of Ring around the Rosie on crack, wearing a beautiful pastel pink bridesmaid dress, frantically trying to calm the kids down before they received even more attention from the guests.

He remembered seeing you earlier in the lineup of bridesmaids during the wedding, standing between Yelena and Wanda, but he didn’t get a good look through his teary eyes as he watched his best friend cry with joy throughout the ceremony.

He slowed his walk down to a halt, chuckling at the sight of you trying to bribe the kids with a pack of gum to get them to stop.

Before he could do anything else though, he accidentally made eye-contact with Sam, who was enjoying watching Bucky walk around in circles a little too much.

“Keep walking, bitch,” Sam mouthed at Bucky, making a circling motion with his finger. “Or else I’m telling Steve that you ain’t doing your job.”

Bucky flipped Sam off with a sneer, earning an obnoxious laugh from the latter.

However, wanting to satisfy his best friend’s wishes, Bucky continued his lap. He decided to walk as fast as he possibly could around the garden, trying to get back to you, sending a charming smile at a couple of guests that he accidentally bumped into in his rush.

Bucky drastically slowed down once he heard the group of kids again, cursing at himself for making it so obvious. This time, they were all chewing gum obnoxiously while you were shoving an empty packet of trident gum into a nearby trash can.

(So that’s exactly what Bucky planned to do on repeat: walk around the garden like his ass was on fire until he reached you, where he would slow down and stare like a creep.

Great plan, right?)

On the third round, you were laughing with a little boy who seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to blow bubbles with his gum.

On the fourth round, you were being pulled in opposite directions by two little girls who seemed to be fighting over you.

On the fifth round, all the girls were gently braiding white peonies from a nearby bush into your hair while you held a giant rock-paper-scissors tournament with the boys.

During the frenzy of the game, Bucky somehow managed to beckon Cass, Sam’s younger nephew, over.

“Hey, buddy.” Bucky knelt down on one knee to match the boy’s height. “Having fun?”

“Uncle Bucky, if you’re trying to get me to play matchmaker for you, I’ll have you know that I’m a little too busy right now to be playing cupid for a grown man.”

Bucky stared at the little boy. Why did he have to be so damn smart. “C’mon, Cass,” Bucky didn’t even try to create a cover story. “Just tell me her name.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Cass stuck his tongue. “It’s sad that your love life needs help from a six year old.”

“Ouch.” Bucky watched Cass run back to the group, getting up back to his feet before looking over at you again.

You looked like a fucking goddess with the flowers weaved into your hair and the soft glow from the fairy lights that were strung around leaving an angelic gleam on your smiling face.

However, before Bucky could stare for too long, Sam was urging him to keep walking.

On the sixth round, you were playing a huge game of concentration with all the kids.

On the seventh round, it was just you and Morgan Stark left in the game, and Bucky watched as you purposefully hesitated to let the little girl win. You laughed as she danced around you, repeatedly chanting “I win, you lose, I win, you lose”.

Damn Starks and their egos.

In the middle of the eighth round, while Bucky was rushing to get back to your group, a familiar hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Woah, Buck,” Steve laughed. “I’m glad that you’re so determined to make sure nothing goes wrong, but I just meant keep an eye on everyone. Like from wherever you were standing. Not walk around aggressively in circles.”

Bucky shrugged nervously. “Um, what can I say? It’s my duty to make sure everything’s perfect. Plus, I- uh, love walking.”

Steve looked suspicious. “Yeah, whatever. C’mon, let’s go to the dance floor. Becca’s looking for you.”

“Uh yeah, lemme just finish my final lap. There were a couple of tipsy looking men over there. Think they’re Alexei’s friends or something,” Bucky lied, gesturing in the general direction where he last saw you guys sitting. “I’ll just make sure they’re not too drunk and then I’ll join you guys.”

“You don’t have to, Buck,” Steve clapped his friend’s shoulder. “But thank you.”

Bucky nodded curtly, promptly speed-walking back to you and the kids. Once he finally made it to the familiar tree, he was stopped in his tracks. You weren’t there.

Bucky finally noticed that all the kids were back with their parents; some being forced to eat, some dancing around with their dads, and some sitting, exhausted, in their mom’s lap.

He looked around for your familiar pink dress and white flowers hanging on by the thread in your hair, but he couldn’t spot you anywhere.

However, before he could find Cass and bribe him into telling Bucky where you went, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

It was Yelena, looking weirdly amused.

“Can I help you?” Bucky was a bit annoyed by the interruption during his frantic search for you.

“Actually, I think I can help you.” Her smug voice was coated in a thick Russian accent.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Come on, lover boy, you can’t hide anything from me. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Bucky tried to look as bored as possible, but his heart skipped a beat.

“Just admit it, Barnes. Or else I’ll tell your mother, and then she'll take matters into her own hands.”

Bucky’s head whipped towards Winnifred Barnes, who was across the garden, and was laughing at something Sam had said. Of course, Bucky loved his mother dearly, but Yelena probably would be a better matchmaker.

“Fine,” He mumbled. “You win.”

“Of course. I always do.” She pushed him, not so gently, in the direction of the bar. “Go get her, Casanova. She’s over there.”

“Couldn’t have done that any softer?” Bucky grumbled, steading himself from the shove.

“Nope.” She smiled sweetly.

Once Bucky was a couple yards out, she called out after him. “Don’t forget to use protection!”

“Fuck. You.” Bucky mouthed at her, earning a witch-like cackle from Yelena, but not before he checked to make sure not too many people were staring.

As Bucky approached the bar, he wiped his clammy hands onto his suit, surprised at his own nervousness.

Where the hell did all this sweat come from?

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a seat in the empty stool next to you, trying to figure out how to start the conversation.

C’mon, Bucky. You’ve done this plenty of times before. Stop worrying. You’re becoming Steve. Just go for it. Say something. Anything-

“You’re Steve’s best man, right?” A gentle voice interrupted his frantic train of thought. “I remember seeing you power-walk in circles from across the garden earlier. Kinda reminded me of my grandma.”

Bucky laughed, his nerves melting away as he shot a sweet grin at you. “I bet your grandma’s got nothing on me. You see how fast I was going?”

“I certainly did. But I’m still wondering why, though.”

“What if I said that I was training for the Olympics?”

You giggled, and Bucky almost melted into a puddle at the sound. “Well then I would say that you wouldn’t last a minute there. Have you ever seen professional race-walking? It’s intense, man.”

“You saying I’m not good enough to compete?” Bucky nudged your shoulder with his own, his usual wave of confidence rippling back through him. “I’d like to see you try to beat me.”

“Give me the date and time,” You nudged him back. “You’re on.”

“Okay, okay, I see how it is.” Bucky clicked his tongue. “But, personally, I prefer to know my opponent’s name before we race to the death.”

“Well, personally,” You mocked, giving Bucky a sly grin. “I don’t like giving out private information to the enemy.”

“Fine, be that way. But since I, for one, am a good sport, I’ll start.” He dramatically stuck his hand out. “Hey there, I’m Bucky.”

You took his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at you. “Y’know, usually when someone introduces themselves to you, you’re supposed to introduce yourself back.”

“Oh really?” You slowly pulled your hand back, and he already missed the warmth of it. “Well thank you for the words of wisdom, Bucky. I’ll be sure to try it next time.” You stretched out his name with a smirk, and Bucky turned red.

Since when was the name ‘Bucky’ this erotic?

He chuckled and looked out to the dance floor, not wanting to give away the blush adorning his cheeks. He spotted Natasha and Steve, who were dancing slowly together in the middle, staring softly into each other’s eyes without a care in the world.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” You followed Bucky’s gaze to the couple, resting your chin in one hand and letting out a happy sigh.

Not as adorable as you, thou-

Bucky heard his name being called out, along with someone else’s he didn’t recognize.

Yelena squeezed in between you both, swinging an arm around each of you. She winked at Bucky. “I see you two have met.”

Bucky looked over at you with a smirk. "So that's your name, huh?" He repeated it with a long and dramatic stretch, just like you had with his. You hit his foot with your own.

“Whoa, no need to get violent,” Yelena jokingly slapped the back of your head before returning her arm onto your shoulder.

“Says you.” Bucky snorted.

“Yeah, Barnes. Says me.” Yelena slapped Bucky’s head next. “Anyways, everyone’s looking for you guys. Let’s go dance.”

Before either of you could protest, Yelena was already dragging you both by the hand up onto your feet and to the crowd in the middle of the estate. She shoved Bucky’s hands onto your waist and yours onto his shoulders before hurriedly walking away. “Have fun! I’m going to go find a dance partner.”

“Um, sorry about that.” You looked down at your feet, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Nothing to be sorry about, doll.” Bucky nudged your foot with his own. “So, you wanna dance?”

“If we didn’t, Yelena probably would kill us.” You leaned forward a bit as you laughed, and Bucky caught a whiff of the flowers in your hair. “But I’m definitely gonna step on your feet, so I apologize in advance.”

“Don’t you worry, doll. You’ll do great.” He started moving his feet to the music, urging you to sway along with him.

After a couple of laughs and bruises on Bucky’s toes, you had finally nailed it.

“See, you’re doing fabulous. I’m so proud of you.” Bucky smiled.

“Mhm, you can say that after I step on your foot again.”

“Oh c’mon, that’s not gonna happen. You’ve got this shit down.” Bucky winked at you. “That’s what happens when you get a great teacher like me.”

“Keep bragging and I’ll step on your foot on purpose this time.” You threatened. However, your mocking glare quickly turned into a sweet smile as spotted Morgan, who was dancing with her dad a few feet away.

Bucky watched as you two took turns sticking your tongues out at each other, the battle finally ending once Tony and Morgan danced away over to Pepper.

The crowd slowly dwindled down, leaving you and Bucky on the dance floor along with a few other couples.

Your dress twirled around you, the fabric flowing and whispering as you moved. Bucky’s hand rested on the small of your back, and the smooth wooden floor beneath them seemed to sway along in rhythm.

“You’re great with kids,” Bucky pointed out when you turned back to face him. “I saw you with 'em earlier too.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled at him, flashing your teeth. “I was convinced into babysitting for the night. Luckily the kids didn’t get too crazy. Probably shouldn't have given all of them gum though.”

Bucky laughed. “I feel you. I was forced into security duty by Steve.”

“Unpaid workers unite!” You stuck your hand up for a high-five, and Bucky gladly accepted with a hearty laugh. “So you’re pretty close to Steve, huh?”

“Yeah. We grew up together in Brooklyn. Been friends for as long as I can remember. He’s always been there for me.” Bucky looked over at his best friend, who was standing with Winnie and Sam, his arm draped across Natasha’s waist, pulling her close into him. “I’m really happy for him. He deserves all of this.”

You nodded, smiling up at Bucky with sparkling eyes. “You sound like an amazing friend,” You said softly, matching the gentle music playing in the background.

And in that moment, Bucky wanted to know everything about you- your hopes, your dreams, your fears, and the stories that danced behind your eyes. Time seemed to slow down as Bucky absorbed every detail of your presence- everything from your mischievous eyes down to your delicate lips that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

The sheer sight of your twinkling smile stirred emotions deep in him, and he wanted nothing more than to see that smile over and over again for the rest of his life. His mind scrambled to find the right words to describe the mixture of delight and nervousness he felt in his veins that created some sort of magnetic force that tugged you closer to him.

You were just a few inches away. Bucky’s breath caught in his chest.

“Central park. Tomorrow at noon. I’ll pick you up,” He whispered.

“You taking me on a date tomorrow, Barnes?” Your eyes flickered to his lips.

“Nah, doll.” Bucky inched closer. “We’re gonna race.”

And then he closed the distance with a lingering kiss.

#bucky x reader #no powers au #marvel fanfiction

[sunflowerxthoughts]

Mastermind [A meet cute] Rockstar!Eddie MunsonxNepo!Reader

First installment of the series: how they met. There is a lot more to come but!!! I’m having a lot of fun with this one. {Masterlist}

This story is +18 and simply fluff. MINORS DNI or you will be blocked. Thanks! Requests are open as always and thank you for reading.

Eddie fucking hates red carpets. The flashes blind him, paps screaming at him make him mad and even if he has has the shittiest of days he has to be nice to the interviewers.

Today is a little different. Yeah, it still sucks but him and the boys have been invited to Angel Valley’s 20th anniversary gala. His favourite band after Metallica had invited Corroed Coffin to their anniversary event and he is still pinching himself. 

And most importantly, he was hoping to meet you. The sweetest face in the world and enchanting eyes, he’d seen you in magazines, followed your instagram and had the stupidest crush on you.

Contrary to what one might believe, you were far from the kind of girl people thought he’d go for. A casual style but still chic, always the right amount of flattering make up and kind disposition. Quite literally you two were midnight and sunshine. 

You knew Eddie, who didn’t? The bad boy persona with a touch of awkward, the long hair and the soft parts you knew he had in him, he was, in your eyes, dreamy. When you saw him in the guest list you made sure to line up his turn with your turn so that you could bump to him. Your plan for the night was to get his number, at least he could become a good friend. 

Sure enough, Eddie was being interviewed when you started taking your first pictures.

“So Eddie, how is the new album coming along?”

“Oh!” Same fucking opening question before the saucy ones, he knows. “Yeah, it’s looking great! We have been experimenting and we are very excited!”

“Who are you looking forward to meeting the most tonight? Some lady maybe?”

“I’m in a room full of my heroes John, my love life is really the last of my thoughts as of now.”

“Ah ladies and gentleman, the eternal bachelor from Corroed Coffin!” Eddie refrains from punching the life out of the man. “What about the most talked about lady here tonight?”

Eddie instantly turns to look at you, effortlessly posing for the camera and he thinks he might faint. You looked like something out of his daydreams and he worried he would have actual drool trailing down his chin.

“I feel like my hands are tied here mate, her dad invited us here and I’m not about to get kicked out. Again, these people are our heroes.” 

Seeing as Eddie won’t spill anything, the man ends the interview and he makes his way next to Gareth and the boys, who oddly enough are sat in the same table as Metallica. Of course you had changed the sitting arrengements so that he’d be in your line of view for the night and it was only a bonus he was sitting next to fucking Kirk Hammett.

The dinner goes smooth, a few speeches here and there, a bit of music, good food and of course some shared glances and a dust of blush in his cheeks.

“You should go talk to her, you know.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Y/N, you two have spent most of the night staring at each other.”

“Oh, we met after the red carpet actually, but I don’t think it’s a good idea, Kirk. Her dad is right here and they’ve done so much just inviting us.”

“You are one of the big names now, Munson. Just as important as anyone in this room. Besides, look at her.”

“Yeah she is beautiful but-“

“And borred out of her mind. She loves this things but we’re all a biiiit older than both of you, I bet she’d love a friend right now.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and as everyone goes to mingle on the makeshift dancefloor (who would’ve thought most of these people enjoyed the ocasional Abba) and talk to old friends and familiar face, he makes his way to the chair next to you.

“Hi, we met in the red carpet before! I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie, I do remember you. Not that I’m complaining but what are you doing here?”

“Just figured you’d like a friend, people here are…”

“You can say they are older dude, it’s fine” you laugh and he can’t help but laugh along.

“I’m just going to say it, I thought you were spectacular in Romeo and Juliet.”

“You saw it? Don’t you think it’s overdone?”

“Yes I saw it! And I thought the spin on the whole thing was great, really. I don’t usually enjoy romantic stuff but it was great.”

“Ah, so the great Eddie Munson doesn’t like romance? More of a heartbreaker kinda guy?”

“Oh god no what I meant-“

“I know dummy, I’m just messing with you. We’re friends, right?”

“Right, right.”

“It’s weird isn’t it? I’m your friend yet I don’t have your number.”

Eddie feels like he might die. You are asking for his number and calling him a friend but he knows, the tone in your voice is saying a whole other thing. 

He does give you his number. You save each other names with silly emojis next to each other.  The rest of the conversation flows easily, a little bit flirty even. It isn’t until Gareth calls him over that he actually moves. He doesn’t want to but he was the one to tell the guys they had to network.

You stay sat in your chair, thinking over your interaction. He’s cute and he seems like a great friend already. It makes you want to meet the rest of the band too. This gatherings would be so much better if he just came with you on a regular basis. 

“Uncle Brian” You smile at your uncle who isn’t your uncle but he is for sure your uncle.

“So? You and Munsooon?”

“Uuuuugh please don’t tell me you and dad saw!”

“Only me, darling. He seems nice, future boyfriend perhaps?”

“Friends, just friends.

“For now?”

“I don’t know, but you know how things are in this world. He’s cute but it’d be super public. Besides, he really admires dad and I wouldn’t want to make things weird.”

“Sweets, I’m not telling you what to do. However, take him to breakfast. You never know, it might be love.”

It was the start of a beautiful, but you were just fine knowing that both his tour and your next film shared a few locations. And breakfast with Eddie Munson sounded sweet like honey. This was the start of something that could go terribly well or fucking terrible, but both of you were excited to know which one would it be. What’s life without a little adventure?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie my beloved #i love him your honor #eddie munson fluff #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie owns my ass #rockstar!eddie munson x nepo!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson au

[hxneyhxrts]

Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 5)

Part 4

note: you guys i woke up to 90+ notifications you all are fucking mental thank you. PS follow me on tiktok (18+ pretty please i don’t want to send hangman thirst traps to minors babes) @ brains4hands (let’s be besties). enjoy this, love you guys, happy pride

warnings: explicit language

God Must Hate Me

Jake almost couldn’t bring himself to attend the graduation.

Since his little revelation (could it be called that if Rooster had to practically beat it into him?), Hangman had successfully and narrowly avoided Gwyn outside of any professional setting.

For the most part.

There was the occasional run-in in the hallway or casual glance during meetings, but those interactions were enough to shake him so thoroughly that he had avoided her like the plague.

Unless they were flying.

In the sky, they were just pilots with a job to do and drills to work through. He had something else to focus on, somewhere to put his hands so they wouldn’t traitorously reach for her instead. It was also the only place he allowed himself to really talk (honestly, “flirt” was probably the better word) with her, pushing at pulling at her over comms from the safety of his plane where he couldn’t see her face light up or twist in annoyance. Treating her like everyone else could be done, so long as he had the buffer of open air between them so she couldn’t see him wiping his hands across the canvas covering his thighs every few minutes.

Drills became his favorite part of the day.

The utter helplessness Jake felt was what had him casting off attending their graduation altogether, but Bradshaw had given him a knowing smirk and teased him about being a good squad leader and making a good example.

So he sat through the ceremony, completely tuning out whatever instructor they had deemed important enough to speak about the eliteness of Top Gun, and keeping his eyes glued to the back of Gwyn’s head from her seat in the front row. He hadn’t seen her face yet, thank God, and he had spent the entire ceremony thus far mentally preparing himself for the inevitable.

Too soon, the speeches and clapping and whoops were over, and Jake steeled himself with his signature smirk as graduates filed their way around him with grins that he met with small, “congratulations”. His eyes snagged on the very person he had been eyeing since he arrived, holding his breath until he saw her quickly peel away from the crowd and stalk away alone.

He wanted to follow her. Wanted to chase after her and ask if everything was okay. He could easily blame it on being a concerned squadron leader, he reasoned.

Alec slid up next to him as he stared at the spot she had just been, the other man’s eyes scanning the crowd as he spoke. “It’s too goddamn hot to have these things outside.”

Phoenix appeared at Jake’s other shoulder, the brunette only glancing at him strangely before addressing the younger lieutenant. “Where’s the rest of you?” she teased.

Laughter peeled from Alec’s chest. “She ran to change her clothes real quick. Hates the dress whites.”

Jake blew out a sigh that had lodged itself in his throat, the noise immediately drawing the attention of both of his counterparts, but he drew on a smile before Phoenix pushed her way into figuring him out the way she always seemed to do.

Guests and graduates alike mingled all around them, and he half wondered which were here for her. He couldn’t spot any with the same wild hair or curve to their nose, and no one seemed to be looking around for her the way he was.

Strange.

“Oh, darling, thank God! I was starting to think you forgot how to do the zipper,” Alec hollered, a few people turning to gawk at his volume, but his eyes (and Jake’s) remained on the girl sliding through the crowd. “It goes up and down, by the way.”

Her laugh was short but filled with mirth nonetheless. She slid under Alec’s arm, and Jake wanted to laugh at the pathetic jealousy that cracked itself open inside of him.

Jealous.

He was jealous.

Of fucking Alec.

Phoenix congratulated them both with a polite smile as Coyote came up behind the pair and shook their shoulders. “Look at you two! Freshly graduated and already landing a spot with the big boys, huh?”

Words blurred together and Jake tuned them out, not really in the mood for teasing and talking, until a hand landed at his elbow softly. Hesitantly.

Looking up was useless, he knew who it was immediately from the tingles he felt where her hand met his body, but he did it anyway. Her eyes were on him and she was smiling. Not the full, broad grins she handed out freely during drills or when Alec made some raunchy comment that made Jake look like a saint. No, this smile seemed private, like it was only meant for him.

Fuck.

“I wanted to say thank you, Lieutenant Seresin,” she started, pulling her hand away while Jake resisted the urge to grab it and put it back on his arm. “Alec and I are really excited to join the team and work with you.”

“Jake,” he barely choked out past his own tongue. “You can call me Jake.” His hands clenched by his sides and it was the weight of Phoenix’s eyes on the side of his head that forced him to grin that infamous Hangman grin when he spoke next. “Since we’re on the same team now, and all.”

Gwyn smiled again, this one happier, and God he wished Trace would mind her business so he could swallow and short circuit in peace.

“Jake,” Gwyn said, finally.

“Gwyn,” he replied.

“Alec,” her RIO announced, inserting himself into their bubble. He smiled down at his friend and Jake watched as color filled her cheeks. “So Jake,” Alec began, tone light and teasing, “what’s the job?”

“Not today,” Jake insisted. “Today is about you guys. We can talk specifics later. For now, just enjoy the day with your families.”

Alec’s face dropped at the mention of family, head whipping around to scan through the faces gathered. His brown was pinched as he turned back to Gwyn. “Where are they?”

The younger girl looked sheepish and Jake zeroed in on the expression. “Not here,” she muttered.

Alec’s jaw tensed before he slid his arm from her shoulders and spun on his heel. “I’m calling them,” he decided and Gwyn was quick to snatch his arm to yank him back.

“I will tell them!” she insisted. “Just not yet.”

Shaw looked at her wearily, his gaze more serious than Jake had ever seen it. With a sigh, he pulled his arm free, but remained where he stood. “Fine,” he relented.

Natasha had struck up a conversation with Payback, leaving Jake to witness the conversation play out alone. The look on Gwyn’s face told him now wasn’t the time to pry.

So he smirked instead, faux cheer and coolness clouding him. “Now that you two are finished with your lover’s quarrel, we have speed drills tomorrow at nine.” He turned to leave, and realized his fists were still clenched at his sides. “Don’t be late,” he threw over his shoulder before charging away as quickly as he could without raising suspicion.

—------------

California had taken a noticeable break from its unrelenting heat, and the crisp morning that greeted them was refreshing. The sky was clear and bright and Jake had secretly relished in the dew he had to wipe from the canopy of his plane before takeoff.

The perfect morning, he mused.

The drills were to be done solo today, each pilot running through routine speed drills and the like by themselves. ‘Back to basics,’ Maverick had said. A way to keep everyone fresh and alert in case they got called out. Jake didn’t mind and found it a bit easier to focus without others around him.

The threat of attack was always looming over them, a counter strike against their last mission, but the urgency seemed to be fading with every day that passed. Jake reasoned that if an attack were actually planned, it would’ve happened by now. Yet, he kept that to himself, content to enjoy the quiet days with his team.

And now Gwyn, he could begrudgingly admit.

Gwyn, who was now taking her laps out at the clearing. He had decided against listening in on comms, preferring to give himself a little bit more time before he had to be consumed by her for the day.

He had leaned himself against one of the makeshift desks in the hangar, chatting with Payback, and silently counting down the minutes until he knew Cheek and Rev were scheduled to return. If his friend noticed him anxiously glancing at his watch every few minutes, he didn’t say anything.

The sound of boots pounding against the cement echoed suddenly, a fast and angry stride filling his ears. He turned his head to find Maverick trying and failing to keep pace with a much larger man. A sailor, by the looks of his uniform, mixed blues and boots that thunked with every heavy step he took. The man was broad, just a hair shorter than Jake, but not weaker by any means. And by the look on his pinched face, he was pissed.

“Where is she?” he all but yelled, and Maverick’s stumbling steps caught up to him as he replied.

“She just landed, it’ll just be a moment, Commander.”

Jake’s spine straightened unconsciously at the title, but the man didn’t seem to care who was around or who was listening as he stormed closer.

“Gwyn!” came Alec’s holler from the opposite direction.

Jake’s head swiveled to find Alec chasing her much like Maverick had chased the newcomer, desperately trying to match her pace.

If he thought the commander looked angry, it was nothing compared to the malice that poisoned Gwyn’s usually open and bright face.

“What the hell are you doing?” she sneered, chucking her helmet to the side as she stomped, coming almost toe to toe with the sailor, and Jake actually cringed at the way her voice rattled through the room.

A voice that was directed at someone several ranks above her.

Christ.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he fired back, hands on his side in a pose that screamed authority. Gwyn didn’t even flinch.

The tension in the room could’ve been sliced with a knife and every single team member who had gathered for drills watched the exchange like a tennis match, eyes bouncing back and forth and rapt with attention.

“What are you even doing here?” Gwyn hissed, and Alec eyed her nervously from where he was rooted just a few feet behind her.

“No, no, no,” the commander barked. “It’s not your turn to ask questions. I want to know what you’re doing. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were at Top Gun? You didn’t think to call me and let me know?” his voice rose with each word, and Jake clamped down on the urge to step in. “I had to hear that you were not only here, but had graduated, from my fucking coworkers!”

“So you think it’s okay to drive down here and jump on my radio?” Gwyn shouted, throwing her hands up in a rage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” her opponent pressed.

The young woman laughed in disbelief, gesturing to the space between them. “Look at how you’re taking it. Would you tell you?”

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you,” the commander hissed. “I mean didn’t a kid die in this program a few years ago? And you thought ‘oh that’s perfect’? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I finished top of my class,” Gwyn raged, moving in closer now, getting a wary glance from Maverick. “None of this has anything to do with you.”

The sailor’s face deepened several shades, and Jake noticed Phoenix cringe beside him as the man practically roared at his team member. “It has everything to do with me!”

Hangman couldn’t help the small surge of pride at seeing Gwyn hold her ground so well against someone who made men cower for a living. A ridiculous feeling, but one he reveled in.

“How?” Gwyn shouted, more of a demand than a question. Jake’s ears were beginning to ring at the sheer volume, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. It was like watching a plane crash that you desperately want to look away from, but watch in morbid fascination, eager to see what happens next.

“Because I love you!”

A stone dropped in his stomach.

Gwyn scoffed, putting her hands on her hips and perfectly mirroring the commander’s stance as he barreled on. “And when you love something, you tend to want what’s best for them. And this-” he gestured around wildly, “-is not necessarily what I think is best. It’s dangerous. It was one thing for you to enlist and just fly, but Top Gun?”

Jake had never considered the possibility that Gwyn had someone waiting for her at home. He had never stopped to think that there could be someone out there who saw the same obvious appeal in her that he did. Now being faced with it, watching an actual lover’s spat play out in front of him…

He swallowed down that now familiar pang of jealousy.

Because of course she had her person. No one that charismatic and alluring stayed single for very long, and Jake had been too naive in his blooming feelings for her to consider that she had already been plucked off the market.

Not the perfect morning, then.

Gwyn spun on her heel, heading back out towards the tarmac. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

The commander huffed. “I don’t want to spend our first day together in months fighting. I’d rather talk this out now before we end up bickering at dinner.”

“Too bad,” Gwyn snorted, snatching her helmet from where it had skittered across the cement.

Jake watched Gwyn’s partner clench his fists, nostrils flaring. “Lieutenant Canadee, I am not asking you, I am telling you.”

Gwyn stopped a few feet away, shoulders tense and hand curled into a fist where it white-knuckled her helmet.

Then all hell broke loose.

Gwyn turned on him, quicker than Jake could process, striding to do him fast enough to charge him before Alec grabbed her forcefully by the arm. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” She was pushing against Alec who had now inserted his full body between her and the sailor. “You’re pulling rank? We aren’t even in the same division, dickhead!”

“Canadee!” Maverick chastised, seemingly without realizing it. At his voice, Cheek stopped bucking against her friend, but her eyes remained locked on the commander.

Rev’s hands were firmly planted against her chest as he spoke to the man over his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, Mo, she has a fantastic flying partner. Real handsome guy,” he joked, trying to dispel the tension even though his voice was strained.

The man, Mo, broke his stare, and the look he leveled Alec with was venomous. “That doesn’t give me any sort of relief, Lieutenant Shaw.”

Alec’s face fell slightly and Gwyn was lunging again while he pushed at her shoulders. “Watch how you speak to him.”

Alec blanched, the pure panic in his eyes finally registering. “G, it’s fine. Just-”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s fine, I promise-”

“I’m not going to let him-”

“Gwyn, I am begging you to just let it go and walk away,” he pleaded. “Please.”

Gwyn’s eyes were still steely, but she relented and turned to leave once more.

Mo scoffed. “See you at dinner!”

Alec’s hand grabbing the back of her suit was the only thing that kept her from turning around.

—--------

Drills came and went, Gwyn remaining silent throughout the entire day and stomping off once four o’clock rolled around. Jake tried not to envision her getting dressed for her dinner date, tried not to think about how she’d pick out something nice to wear despite her irritation, and how badly he wished he was on the receiving end of her efforts.

‘This is fucking stupid,’ he told himself. ‘Who cares that she has a boyfriend?’

‘Or a husband,’ came the reply in his head.

He wanted to throw up at the thought.

Jake Seresin had always been a jealous person. Vehemently so. Old girlfriends had teased him for it, but he had never minded it. He was man enough to admit that maybe he toed the line of being possessive, but it had never bothered him. Not like this.

She was in a relationship. Someone loved her. There was someone waiting for her at home, someone who cared so deeply about her that they’d risk her wrath just to keep her safe. Sure, Jake thought it a bit ridiculous for her partner to try managing her so closely, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that there was someone to try and manage her, regardless of how controlling it seemed.

It wasn’t his place to be angry. It wasn’t his place to quietly simmer at the man who had waltzed in and tried to outrank her feelings and aspirations because it wasn’t what he wanted. Jake knew it wasn’t his business how their dynamic played out, but he couldn’t help disliking the way Mo had spoken to Gwyn, the way he had tried to dictate her with such authority. He could understand being upset. Hell, Jake would even be upset if his girlfriend (or wife, he thought bitterly) hadn’t told him about shipping off to Top Gun. Maybe even livid. But he wouldn’t try to stop her. He’d never even dream of it.

It wasn’t about what he would do, though. Gwyn wasn’t his girlfriend (or fuck, his wife), and it wasn’t up to him how their relationship unfolded.

And besides, he had only known her for about two weeks. Two weeks was nothing compared to a relationship with someone in love.

He knew all of this.

It didn’t lessen the sting.

—------------

The Hard Deck was just as deafening as usual. Aviators and civilians alike crawling their way through and around each other filled the space, and God even the air felt sticky.

Gross.

Jake’s foul mood was absolutely to blame for the bitterness in his attitude, but he couldn’t be assed to care. He lost count how many times Rooster had ribbed him for glaring at anyone who brushed too close to the group, joking that the Navy had invested in guard dogs. Even biting back at Bradshaw felt like a chore, so he just let him ramble on.

Maverick had showed up not long after them, choosing to sit at the bar and longingly stare at the older brunette mixing drinks behind it.

A man in love.

How awful.

Jake was just starting to find amusement in the love-stricken face of his instructor when a bawdy cheer and holler tore his attention back to his team. Coyote had his arms raised in greeting before bringing them down to clap Alec across the back as the man stumbled in with a placated smile, Gwyn trailing closely behind him.

And behind her, the commander.

The elder had dressed out of his uniform, like the twins, opting for something much more casual. The way Gwyn pulled at the hem of her denim shorts snagged his attention, and fuck, he wished California wasn’t so goddamn hot so she didn’t wear those goddamn shorts that strung him out.

She was smiling, a complete switch in her scowl from earlier, as she shoved at Payback affectionately before turning to him. Her eyes lit up just a fraction, small enough that he questioned if he had imagined it, but she was walking up to him with a bounce in her step and wait fuck she was walking up to him.

“Hi,” she started, playing with her hands.

“Hi,” he responded and God he needed water or something.

He hadn’t expected to see her tonight. She was supposed to be off on some dinner date while he sulked around the bar until Penny kicked him out so he could drive himself home and wallow in his own misery for the remainder of the night. But now she was here, and this wasn’t part of the plan. He needed ample time to mentally prepare for her but now he was thrown right into the middle of her orbit, no lifeline or tapping out.

She already has someone who loves her.

Gwyn settled into the chair next to him, her arm brushing his as she settled her elbows on the high top table. A thrill ran through him at the contact and he wanted to flex his fingers so he could run them across her skin and see if it was as soft as it looked.

Jake wanted to tell her how pretty she looked in the low lighting of the bar. Or how he had memorized the curve of her cupid’s bow instead of paying attention during the team meeting. Maybe tell her that he hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day even when she wasn’t around and that his little crush was bordering on infatuation and that he had never dealt with this kind of feeling and how sick it made him to see her walk in with someone else.

“I thought you had dinner plans,” he said instead.

Her eyes softened, looking behind him at Mo quickly before turning her attention back to him. “I’ve had enough of him for the day, I wanted to hang out with you guys.”

Jake didn’t want to think what “enough of him” meant, so he just nodded instead. “So, you didn’t tell him about Top Gun?”

Gwyn tensed and he wanted to take the words right back, snatch them out of the air and swallow them whole just to wipe the soured look on her face away. “No,” she sighed. “I didn’t.” Her fingers played nervously with the cotton of Jake’s sleeve, a mindless gesture she didn’t seem to notice she was even doing, but fuck he did. He had honed in completely on the caress of her fingers through the fabric and almost missed her words altogether. “He’s just a worrier. I knew he’d be upset and try to convince me not to go, so I told him I had been stationed out in the Carolinas. I figured I’d tell him after I finished, but it looks like naval gossip beat me to the punch,” she laughed.

Jake swallowed. “He must care about you very much.”

Gwyn looked at him, almost through him, when she smiled. “Yeah. He does.”

As if sensing the discussion surrounding him, Mo popped up behind her and slung an arm across her shoulders. “Lieutenant,” he greeted them with a small smirk.

Jake’s entire body was rigid. “Commander.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes, and this time, her fingers splayed across his arm completely and intentionally. “You don’t have to call him that.”

The man laughed, shaking her shoulder a bit where he held it. “God forbid someone has some respect around here,” he laughed as he detached his arm from her shoulders to offer his hand to Jake. “Mo,” he introduced.

“Jake Seresin,” he replied, gripping the hand held out to him a little tighter than necessary.

Mo’s eyes shifted, suddenly unreadable. “Hangman,” he concluded while pointing at Jake, and the callsign sounded accusatory. He nodded his head, glancing down at Gwyn while he continued. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

‘I’ve heard all about how cozy you are with my girlfriend,’ the unspoken words hanging in Jake’s head.

‘Or wife.’

Fuck.

The air was thick around them. Gwyn had taken to nervously glancing at Mo, some unspoken conversation passing between them until the commander detached himself with a small serpentine smile.

“Well I’m gonna go play pool. You two have fun.” And with that, he was gone.

Leave it to Jake to develop feelings (and God, even flirt) with a taken woman. He deserved to get his ass kicked thinking back on all the little remarks he had made to her in an attempt to “treat her like everybody else” and the urge to stand up and deck Maverick for the suggestion was overwhelming.

“Sorry about him,” Gwyn mumbled, fingers recoiling from him and no, no, no he wanted to beg her, come back. “He can be insufferable.”

Treat her like everyone else.

“Probably just checking that I’m not putting the moves on his girlfriend,” he swallowed, itching to flee to the bar and drink his sorrows away right next to his captain.

Cheek’s eyes flew to his face, searching for something before her lip curled. “Oh my God, what? No. No, he’s not my boyfriend.”

Husband, then.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Mo’s my brother.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shame pulsed at Jake’s temples at the immense relief he felt (fuck, he needed to get a grip). Gwyn was still sputtering at him, and he only half heard as she fake gagged.

“Christ, did you think he and I were dating? Oh my God, no. Ew.” She shook her head, brows completely pinched. “No, that jackass is alone forever as far as I’m concerned,” she mumbled while she played with the label on his beer.

He was her brother.

Brother.

Jake couldn’t help the grin that split his cheeks, staring at her openly and unabashedly as she ranted. He took the chance to rub the pad of his finger across the back of her hand while she talked, basking in the silk feeling until he spoke again. “I must have misread that, then,” he smiled, and he had never been happier to be wrong.

“Big time,” she laughed, eyes flickering to where his finger danced across her arm. “Besides, I don’t think any sane person would want to date me with as much as I have to move around. Not very appealing, huh?” she joked as she bumped her shoulder against his.

Single. She was single.

“You never know,” he grinned without trying, full and unguarded and he hoped she couldn’t see how completely taken with her he was.

She scoffed, but it held no malice. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

They certainly would.

Part 6

taglist: @rachelccollier @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @barbiewritesstuff @dilfsandtherapy

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman top gun

[missiodei]

Juju: 1-10 :3c

Character Ask Meme

1. What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/restaurant)

Bottles and bottles of sake. He likes junmai, junmai daiginjo, kimoto and nigori types. If not alcohol then he likes to go for things like lemonades or teas. He’s not much of a soda guy.

2. What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

Despite his rough demeanor he takes good care of himself. In fights he loves to be covered in blood from his opponent but he’s not one to keep grime on himself once he gets home. He has his own skin care routine and enjoys milk baths.

3. What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

Bars. Lol He likes to go out to bars and mingle with other trolls, he’ll pay for their drinks if they’re entertaining enough to him. Other than that it’d prolly go into spa days cause he likes being pampered.

4. Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory) 

He has a scar across his face and some on his back. No tattoos.

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) 

He hasn’t.

6. Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.)

Only child.

7. Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

For his uniform, he wears very simple but well-made black geta. He wears them because he likes them but also because he considers it a handicap for his opponents - you can hear him coming and they do make fighting maneuvers a bit more difficult/challenging for him. In casual wear he’s still known to go for sandals, and formal occasions call for usual dress shoes.

8. Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

He has a rather large pool area in his personal quarters that he likes to sleep in. There’s a bed nearby for ‘guests’. There’s very minimal lighting that’s usually turned off, and there are no windows - this is to emulate the conditions he’s familiar with as he originally was an abyssdweller. There are many cracks along the wall that are ‘fixed’ with gold, and many gold artifacts riddled about as well. While clean, his room can be a bit disorderly though particularly near the corners.

9. What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.) 

He doesn’t have a favorite or least favorite.

10. What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.)

If he’s in uniform he’s got his weapon with him all the time. Otherwise, not much. He has his wallet and maybe a pocket knife, but he can call his main weapon to him like mjölnir if wanted. Other than that his phone, maybe a handkerchief somewhere if some situation gets messy. Prolly lotion too.

#juuzou #meichiitrolls

[yazaleearchive]

Sing For Me, Little Canary

Some nights, before she goes up on stage, Canaria remembers. “Sing for me, little canary.”

She remembers the sweaty hands, and the the tepid breath. She remembers her skin crawling and her stomach dropping in terror. She remembers the knife in her hand and the blood on her white apron.

That man is dead, but the nightmare is never over. Now, she just has to perform for another crowd of different monsters. Smoke fills the club, as the low, seductive music starts playing. The pianist is out of sight, hidden behind a heavy, velvet curtain that undulates under the dim light. 

Canaria is clad in gold, and white feathers line the hem of her dress. The outfit is scandalous, but that’s what captivates the audience before her. She recognises some faces, some others blur in the haze of cigar fumes and drunken stupor. It doesn’t matter. They’re all the same.

Canaria starts singing, her smooth voice filling the entire room, and she knows everyone’s attention is on her. She can feel the heavy gazes follow her every movement. Every jerk of hip and flash of skin provokes her a reaction, a feverish shiver through the crowd. She knows that while they feel like they own her, in that moment she’s the one who has the power over them. A flash of gold catches her attention and she holds it for a moment and smiles wider, before turning her focus on another guest.

On that despicable stage, dressed like a songbird to entertain a pack of wolves, she does not feel vulnerable. She knows she could make them beg, she could make them topple whole countries for her. She despises every single part of it. Every single one of them. So she sings, of long lost lovers and husbands lost at sea. The memory of the trembling song of her mother mingle with her own and she lets the longing seep into her voice, cajoling and poignant.

Oh my love, my love will you come back From the sea that stole you away. Such a cruel mistress that you have, She refuses to let you go home to me. How I long to see you again, my dear, For I can never feel the warmth of the sun Without you to bring it from over the horizon.

She bows under a thunder of whistles and inebriated claps. Energy rushes out of her the moment she steps in the tiny room backstage. The moment she shakes away the dress, Luc comes in, the face red with liquor.  Luc is a strange one, Canaria had always thought. He’d never really shown any interest into her beyond what he could gain from caging her to that narrow stage. He barely looked at her, he’d always seemed to drunk to. Only in business was he unexpectedly lucid.

“There is a Duke here who wants to see you. You did well, my little canary.”

Canaria shrugs a more casual blouse and simple dark skirts.

“I don’t want to see anyone.” she frowns. “And I have told you not to call me that.”

“This is not a man you can refuse, my dear. And what, maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll buy you out. You will finally be free!” 

His jovial tone grates her already fraying nerves. He is the one who has trapped her here. She’s tried to escape and he’d sent the militia to catch her. She’d accumulated a debt when she’d been too gullible to accept a helping hand that turned out to be holding a knife at her throat. 

“I told you I wasn't interested in that kind of business.”

“He will not touch you. He just wants to talk, he says.”

She is cornered. It is not the first time it happened, but she knows that if she goes, she will regret it. A feeling in her gut, the instinct that had kept her alive, and every muscle in her body warns her not to go. But the man in front of her is done talking. His hand closes in a tight grip around her arm, and he leans in.

“I will give you some time to make yourself ready. Gather your wits. I want you in the Emerald room in,” he checks his golden pocket watch - a gift from one of his wealthier patrons - and taps the glass in warning. “10 minutes.”

Luc leaves the room as a wave of familiar helplessness slams into Canaria. She feels like she is drowning.

She’d come this far, had survived this long, to be sold to the highest bidder. She can never seem to escape. But Luc has promised the man wouldn’t touch her, and he usually keeps his word. Luc had promised Canaria would never have to be anyone’s toy. 

Canaria doesn't cry. She is too exhausted to. She looks into the old mirror, and realises how tired she looks. This is not what a seventeen year old girl should look like. 

A youthful face pops in her mind, blissfully happy. She would have never looked this worn by life. Canaria shakes the thought away. She feels like she has lived many lives, when she’d only just made it out of girlhood. 

An inkling of trust, not in Luc per se, but in his shady business ethics, keeps her from running away. Also, she knows that if she did, she’d probably get jailed this time. Or worse.

She smoothes her skirts, opens the door and makes her way to the concealed reception room her guest is waiting for her. Luc catches her eye from the bar and nods once, before turning back to entertain other ludicrous nobles.

She sighs as she makes her way to the private rooms, near the gaming tables. Non official business usually took place in these remote booths, business talks, illegal betting and other dealings Canaria would rather never get involved in.

Golden eyes pierce through her the moment she enters the dark room, and she is immediately paralysed by what she reads in them. Clammy hands keep her still as she tries to call for help.

“Sing for me, little canary.”

She remembers the old Baron’s voice even if the man in front of her, the Duke, doesn’t talk. They’re different, but right now they’re the same.

They want to hurt her.

However this time, Canaria can’t fight back, she can’t do anything but scream. The door isn’t closed and she can feel stares and amused cheering. It spurs on the aristocrat as he starts pulling on the laces of her corset. The rictus on his face widens as she tries to wiggle out of his forceful embrace.

Luc cuts through the crowd that had formed at the door, and for a second Canaria feels dizzying relief. She knows that a part of him values her, even as only a worthwhile investment.  His guilty blue eyes meet hers and he turns his head away, before closing the door. He had known. He had lied to her. 

The raucous laughter and crude remarks filter through the heavy door, and she knows that it is fuelled by her pained sobs. It is their revenge, the price she must pay for having held a sliver of power over them, for a single instant.

The gold gaze is branded in her mind, as pain tainted by humiliation and deep shame burn inside her like a shot of souchen liquor. She had to let this mountain of a man take her as if he was entitled to her body.

She could feel it in his punishing touch. This was retribution, this was a show of power. Her screams of pain only satisfied him, so she bites her tongue and keeps quiet. He doesn't like it.

She doesn't have the energy to fight him off, but she has the will to not let him have the satisfaction of any more of her tears. She focuses her mind on anger. She’d carve out his eyes, and cut the tongue that laid claim to her skin, and she’d make sure every moment of his death hurt.

This man, Luc, all the men who feasted on her pain they all deserved to die. And she’d get away with it. She’d get away with it all.

Right now, she was the prey, but she vowed that one day, the songbird would make them pay the hard price for her freedom.

#oc #azimae

[chibinekochan]

Passing out at Diavolos party

Belphegor

He wakes up and finds you passed out on his shoulder.

He smiles gently at you.

Knowing that you must've watched over him.

No wonder he was so comfortable when he slept.

Belphie had no idea that you were capable of passing out in the middle of a party, just like him.

It’s kind of cute seeing you this defenseless.

He certainly feels a desire to poke you a bit but he doesn't since you look so peaceful.

Diavolo

He is surprised to see you all passed out on a couch at the side.

It's not a huge surprise to him.

You worked hard preparing the party.

He saw you running around until the last minute.

You deserve the break.

Diavolo wonders if you really are comfortable like this.

He covers you with his coat and keeps an eye on you.

Diavolo doesn't want to wake you up and this way you are staying safe.

Asmodeus

He is just done dancing and wants to get a drink from the bar.

Then he spots you, sleeping all peacefully.

Asmo shakes his head.

How can you be so careless?

He sits down next to you.

Sipping his drink watching you carefully.

You certainly seem to have a nice dream.

At this rate, you will miss all of the fun.

Asmo should wake you up, but for now, he lets you sleep just a bit longer.

Leviathan

As usual, he is somewhere on the sidelines.

Waiting for this party to end.

Then he sees you, all by yourself.

Levi takes this opportunity.

Who else will rescue him from this?

When he comes closer he notices that you've passed out.

This is pretty troubling, first of all, how did you do this? And secondly, you are pretty cute like this.

He hurries over to you.

He can't just leave you all defenseless like this.

Levi sits down next to you, with more than enough space.

Then suddenly your head is on his shoulder.

Levi blushes but doesn't move.

he just hopes you aren't mad when you wake up.

Barbatos

He is busy attending several guests at the party.

Making his rounds.

Then he spots you in a corner softly snoring.

It's pretty strange to see you being so peacefully asleep in the middle of the loud party.

As much as he just wants to leave you be he cannot bring himself to do that.

So with the utmost care, he carries you to a different room and covers you with a blanket.

This way you are comfortable and safe.

You wake up pretty confused but comfortable.

Mammon

He wants to invite you to dance with him.

Instead, he finds you asleep.

How can you pass out with all this loud music?

Are you secretly Belphie?

Well however now Mammon has practically no choice but to stay with you.

Someone has to keep you safe after all.

The great Mammon is obviously the best for this job.

He can admit that you are kind of cute being so defenseless but he would never say that to you in person.

Even the way you drool is kinda cute.

Beelzebub

He is used to finding Belphie like this.

But with you, it's the first time for him.

You must've been very tired.

It's no wonder though since you always seem to run around doing something.

Not too long ago you helped Beel to carry some food.

Beel softly smiles at you.

Well time to bring you to bed.

He carefully carries you to your room.

Beel always does the same for Belphie but it's kind of different when it's you.

Not in a bad way, of course, it feels nice.

Especially when you nuzzle him in your sleep.

Luke

He is pretty exhausted himself.

Luke just wants to sit down for a moment.

Then he sees you and notices that you are asleep.

How did you do this? It's a pretty loud party, filled with demons to boot.

Luke is unsure what to do now.

Should he wake you up? You look so peaceful though.

Well, he wanted to take a break anyway so this works out.

He can protect you too, he isn't that weak after all.

Lucifer

He is done greeting everyone.

Looking to see if any of his brothers cause a scene.

Everything seems pretty okay so far.

Then he sees you, fast asleep at a table.

It's pretty worrisome.

Especially since you seem to be all alone.

Then goes over to check if you are okay, but you are snoring pretty quietly and look very peaceful.

He can't sense any magic or unusual at all.

So you just passed out.

He would lecture you but honestly, you look so cute that he can't bring himself to wake you up.

Lucifer sees no other way than watching over you until you wake up or the party is over.

Solomon

He is just mingling with all the demons.

Having some pretty interesting conversations when he sees you.

It's pretty obvious that you sleep.

For a while, Solomon just watches you from afar.

There doesn't seem to be a need for you to wake up.

Then he spots a demon that is about to approach you.

Well, now it's time for Solomon to step in.

He just casually walks over to you and chases the demon away.

The rest of the time he just stands close to you to watch over you.

There may be some scribbles on your face later.

He just wants to teach you to not be so careless.

My Obey me! Masterlist

#obey me #omswd #obey me headcanon #obey me demon brothers #obey me boys #om! #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me solmare

[miss-smutty]

Brothers - Chapter 11

Unforgiven

Summary- You're hit with the bombshell of Chris coming home after a month away and after he left you questioning everything, completely heartbroken. How were you meant to confront him after so long?

Word count- 2K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader

Warnings- Swearing, a smidgen of violence

18+ only!

Posted: 3rd August 2021

Taglist:- @everything-is-awesomesauce @nicolemt23 @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires

Brothers Masterlist <<<

You haven't felt like this about anyone for a very long time and Chris has just made your fear of rejection all too real. You couldn't help the way you felt about him though, still feel about him. You love him and he'd told you he loved you, you'd felt it when he'd said it, you'd seen the look in his eye. So why were you even questioning it? 

In the morning you finally felt the courage to check your phone - Liam had stayed with you all night until you'd calmed down enough to go to bed when the sun had rised and you were no longer taunted by your demons in the dark.

There's multiple text messages and missed calls filling up the screen of your phone. 

I'm sorry I had to leave like that, are you ok? Xx

Read the first one. Your eyes scanned over the rest, mostly saying the same thing.

Y/N please answer. Let me explain myself. I didn't have time to speak to Liam about it all right then and I didn't want to leave on a bombshell.

His excuses made you feel sick to your stomach. You could understand why he did it but there were much better ways for him to go about it that wouldn't have left you feeling heartbroken.

You sighed heavily, putting your phone back onto your bedside table a little bit too forcibly and sinking back into your feather pillows. If you gave in to your impulses you would've text him back straight away but knowing deep down that would be the wrong thing to do, you restrained yourself. It took willpower but you just about managed, he'd made you feel like shit there was no way you were going to forgive him so easily.

*********

As the weeks passed by it became more and more difficult to ignore Chris, he wasn't giving up without a fight which admittedly made you feel a little bit better. You'd ignored him for so long it had become a habit and the fact he wasn't giving in told you he definitely did care about you but he'd made a major mistake and you were going to make him pay.

"Have you spoke to Chris yet?" Liam asked you over lunch. 

"Nope." A sly smile played on your lips, you were kind of enjoying making Chris sweat but you'd never admit it.

"Maybe you should, he's been blowing my phone up trying to get in contact with you. You do know he's coming home this week?"

"What? You stopped with your fork in front of your lips, eyes wide. "No I did not know that, has it been a month already?"

"Uh-huh, and its gonna be massively fucking awkward for me if you two are still arguing." 

"We're not arguing..." You brush your hair behind your ear, sitting up straight in your chair. " We're not even speaking." 

The thought of Chris coming home fills you with dread and excitement all at the same time. You're so excited to see his face and yet dreading the thought of having to deal with your problems.

"When will he be home?" You ask, trying to be casual.

"I don't know, he just said this week. I haven't exactly been speaking to him myself, I'm still pissed off with him."

"And you didn't think to ask what day?.and why are you pissed off? He didn't do anything to you." Your voice was a little too high, it always was when you panicked. Chris could come home at any minute and you weren't mentally prepared for it.

"No, but don't you think him hurting you effects me? You've had a face like a slapped ass for a month for a start and if you want to know so badly why don't you call him?" Liam raised his eyebrows at you, unamused at the whole messenger thing he had going on.

"Pfft, I can't." You push your bowl of food away, suddenly not very hungry anymore. "It's been so long I wouldn't even know what to say." 

"Your drama is honestly making me go grey." Liam runs his hand through his hair, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

"I think you'd look pretty good as a silver fox." You tease.

"I would but still, please sort it out." He gives you the glare. "Anyway, I'm going to have a little get together tonight. You up for it?" 

"A get together or a party?" 

"Well you know how it usually goes, it starts off as a get together but usually turns in to a party." 

"Exactly, well I'm off out with the girls so we'll be there later." 

You finished up your meals, Liam refusing for you to pay as usual, he was such a gentleman, you really wish his brother was a little bit more like him in that way. 

*********

You help Liam greet his guests, smiling and mingling as you go. The ratio of women to men doesn't suprise you one bit, Liam was newly single after all but you roll your eyes anyway after leading yet another group of girls through to the living room.

You watched Liam greeting the girls with the most genuine smile on his face than you'd seen in a while, he was happy, finally and it brought you great pleasure.

Your heart stops beating when you hear Chris's distinctive Australian accent carry above the noise in the room, you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you turn around to find him. Your tummy fluttering when your eyes meet, unable to hide how much you've actually missed him from your face. He smiles sheepishly at you making your tummy somersault, excusing himself politely from the group of girls that had circled around him and making his way over to you, when Liam steps in his way, blocking his path.

"I don't want to make a scene here but you've got some serious explaining to do." Liam says sternly.

"I know... I... I wasn't honest with you before I left." 

"That's putting it lightly. Y/N told me everything." You watched the exchange between the brothers, your nerves going into overdrive. You could hear Liam's friend talking to you but you weren't focusing on him, his words just a distant noise, your attention solely on the brothers. Brothers who looked like they were about to fight. Because of you.

"What are you, her bodyguard? If there's anyone I need to answer to it's Y/N, are you gunna let me past?" You watched as Chris' jaw tensed, the muscles in his neck becoming more prominent and you knew things were getting heated.

"If you're gunna treat her like shit Chris then yeah I am, the manly thing to do was come clean. It was a pussy move and you know it." People were starting to watch and your cheeks were burning but you were routed to the spot. Unable to move all you could do was stare blankly.

"Are you calling me a pussy?"

"Yeah, I'm calling you a fucking pussy." Liam shoved Chris square in his chest, he barely moved but his jaw clenched together, the tendons in his neck straining with rage.

Why, why, why were you stood watching this and not doing something about it? Your two favourite people in the whole world were about to fight each other and you're stood watching like it's a fucking soap opera.

You could see Chris thinking, debating about what he should do. Should he give his brother a free pass - he did deserve it, or should he fight back - he'd already called him a pussy he didn't want people actually believing it. 

He decided to let it go, moving past him to get to you when Liam shoved him again, this time he wasn't expecting it and almost fell over, recovered himself and then went for Liam. Your mouth hung open, your legs started moving before you registered what was happening.

"Stop! Please stop!" You screamed, Liam's friends coming to the rescue and holding them both back. Tears in your eyes at the thought of them fighting each other

You looked up at Liam's friend holding Chris back. "It's ok, I've got him." You took Chris by the hand, leading him away from Liam, weaving through the crowd that had gathered, pissed off that they'd caused such a scene in public but you needed to get them away from each other so they could both calm down.

Chris walked into your room and you closed the door behind him, resting your head against it for a minute.

"What the fuck was that?" You question, turning around to face him.

"Don't ask me, what exactly did you say to Liam while I was gone?" 

"Are you really trying to blame me? I told him the truth Chris, like you should've done." He hung his head in shame. His elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Yeah I know but let me explain."

"I haven't got time for it now." You start shuffling through your wardrobe. "I need to get ready." You say with your back to him.

"Ready for what?"

"I'm going out with the girls." You turn around slowly, looking at him, taking him all in. You've missed him so much, why does he have to be so damn attractive.

Then he gives you that sexy smile and your knees almost cave but you remind yourself of the things he said, willing yourself to stay angry with him.

"Do you have to go? I've only just got back." You start going through your wardrobe, if you had your back to him you could distract yourself from the heavy sexual tension between you. The need to run up to him and wrap you legs around him, telling him all was forgiven while you kissed every inch of his damn fine body. 

"Yeah I'm going. You don't get to treat me like that and then just come back and act like nothings happened." 

"Y/N can you please stop being so stupid, this is ridiculous." He said sitting down on the end of your bed with his head in his hands.

"I'm being stupid? Are you for real?" You take off your clothes until you're left in just your underwear, turning around to look at him with your hands on your hips.

"Ok sorry that was the wrong thing to say, I've been trying to speak to you every day for a month. Did you not miss me?" He looks up, his eyes widening when he sees you in your underwear.

"You're always saying the wrong thing aren't you?" Now can you leave, I need to get ready and I want to do it in peace." You point to the door, your hand falling limply by your side when you watch Chris licking his lips, his eyes focusing everywhere but your face.

"Do you have to go? I think I can find a way of making you forgive me." 

"You can't just fuck your way outta this one Chris, I'm not a toy for you to do as you please with." 

"You're so hot when you're angry... I'm really trying not to fuck you senseless right now." He bites on his fist watching your anger falter.

"We're just friends aren't we?" You say rather bitterly

"We're not just friends and you fucking know it, friends don't do this shit -" he says as he moves in front of you, his hands wrapping around you and resting on your plump cheeks. "I told you I loved you and I fucking meant it. Can we please forget what I said? I didn't think about it until after I'd said it and I tried to call you straight away to apologize."

"Do what?" You reply trying to keep your calm as his hands electrify your body.

He cups your ass and lifts you into his arms, you instinctively wrap your legs around his hard torso. He lays you back onto the bed and kisses you deep, his tongue desperately finding yours as he thrusts his bulge into your tingling pussy. Your body betrays you as you let out a low moan, you feel him groan from deep inside as his prehistoric nature takes over.

"That." he says breathlessly.

"I'm still going out tonight but I'll be back later." You say between him kissing down your neck, savouring every last inch of your taste. "You can think about how you can make it up to me while I'm gone and before that you better go grovel to Liam, I think he's even more pissed off than me."

"Oh baby, you're not even going to know your own name by the time I'm finished with you never mind anything else." 

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven, this means I'm giving you a chance." 

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #brothers #chris hems x you #liam hemsworth

[mrs-gucci]

Wedding Bells [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. maurizio calling reader “tesoro”™️. some wedding shit. light aftercare. grinding. creampie. implied consent. dirty talk, name-calling/degradation but in italian ;)

(possible) tw’s: infidelity/extramarital affair. brief mentions of tobacco use. implied age gap (reader is over 21, no more than 10 years difference).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname)

You can’t believe this is really happening.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You’re supposed to be the one in the white gown, the one set to marry Maurizio Gucci. 

He insists that this overzealous ceremony is just for the press, that he’s not truly in love with her, but sometimes you see him looking at her and you lose faith. 

You almost didn’t come today. You almost just stayed at the house and pretended that this never happened, but you know that even if this marriage is a sham, it’s still a big day for Maurizio. 

And I can’t say no to him.

The crowd cheers as they kiss up at the altar, turning to face everyone in the church with big smiles on their faces. You clap softly, forcing a smile upon your face as they walk down the aisle together. 

He looks so handsome in his suit, the striped pants and impeccably polished black leather loafers completing the look. Maurizio was always dressed to the nines, but today, he was dressed to the tens. 

His eyes meet yours, and his face falls for a moment when he reads the underlying sadness etched in your outwardly happy expression. 

Everyone starts piling out of the church and you go along with them, hopping into one of the cars to take everyone to the headquarters for the reception. 

The car pulls up to the building a few minutes later, and you walk in, taking a deep breath. 

You should just go home, Y/N. You went to the reception, and that’s enough.

You look around at the decorated walls, all the guests mingling happily, all here in support of Maurizio and Patrizia. 

You’re here too, sure, but you feel oddly out of place standing amongst the other guests.

Perhaps it’s because you’re the only non-native guest here. Perhaps it’s because you’re not here in support of the couple. 

You find my place at one of the front tables and of course, you’re sat facing Maurizio, practically head-on. Great.

The meal is served and the room goes essentially silent as everyone begins dining. You make some casual conversation with the people sitting around you, some of them your coworkers, but you can’t stop myself from looking over at the groom from time to time. 

As night runs into early morning, you’ve found some solace in the champagne and the company of Giovanni, someone you’ve come to really like spending time with. You both have a lot in common and you get on great; you’re always joking around the office. 

Each time you begin talking with Giovanni, however, you feel a particular set of eyes on you. And, when you look over, you’re met with the deep brown eyes of your lover. 

You show him no reaction, simply smiling sweetly each time your eyes meet, as if you were simply boss and employee. 

Soon, you feel utterly suffocated by the thick air of the room, so you decide to step outside for a short while. You hope to slip out unnoticed, and you do for a little bit, but then someone comes out behind you. 

You don’t even need to turn around to see who it is, and the familiar sound of a lighter gives all the confirmation you needed.

Maurizio walks out and leans over the balcony, a thin cloud of smoke passing through his lips as he looks out onto the horizon. 

“I…”

He begins, trailing off. 

“Have you gotten a slice of cake yet? It’s quite good.”

You huff with a drop of humor.

“No, but maybe I’ll do that now, since this balcony is no longer exclusive to just me.”

As you turn around and begin to walk towards the door, his hand snatches your wrist and pulls you back. Your body collides with his, your back pressed against his front. 

You can feel his smoky breath against your ear, and your skin erupts in goosebumps. 

“Please, stay. I want to speak with you.”

There’s a brief moment where you truly believe that you’re going to say no this time, that you’re going to walk away.

But I can’t say no to him.

He feels you relax and lets go of your wrist, allowing you to return to the railing. He stands behind you, taking another drag. 

“I guess I should begin by apologizing, for you having to sit through the ceremony.”

You take a sip of champagne. 

“As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m simply your assistant.”

“Yes, but I know that you’re more, much more, than that. I can’t imagine that sitting there the whole time was easy. But, I want you to know that I appreciate you coming, it would’ve been weird not seeing you today.”

You look over your shoulder, up at him.

“You know I’ll always be here for you, Maurizio.”

He smiles down at you. “I promise that it won’t always be like this for us, tesoro. Things will change, and we will be able to show our love to the world.”

His hand runs down your arm gently, then falls to your hip, where he squeezes lightly. 

“You look so beautiful tonight. I wish I could kiss you, touch you, worship you like you deserve.”

You blush, stepping back a bit, now fully pressed up against him. His breath catches in his throat as his hand comes forward and trails up, fingers teasing just below your breasts. 

He leans forward, lips leaving a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“It’s been nearly impossible to stay away from you, mi tesoro. I just want to have you right here, right now…”

A whimper escapes your lips as his trail down to your shoulder. 

“Potrei alzare il vestito e fotterti, climelo.” (I could just pull your dress up and fuck you, christ.)

He breathes, grinding his hips against you, growling lowly in your ear. 

“Piegati sulla ringhiera, ti fa urlare il mio nome…” (Bend you over the railing, make you scream my name…)

You’re breathless as you try to resist the urge to let him take you right here. 

But, you know you can’t, it’s way too risky. Someone’s bound to notice.

“Maurizio…”

You whisper. 

“We can’t, not here.”

Something seems to switch in his brain and he freezes suddenly, almost as if he’s been snapped back into reality. He stands up straight again, breath shaky as he takes a final drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair. 

You turn around, resting your hands on his chest, staring up into his eyes. 

“It’s okay.”

“I need to have you tonight, tesoro, please.”

Maurizio says, resting his forehead on yours, lips mouthing at yours. 

You sigh.

“How? There are people everywhere, it’s too risky.”

A smirk suddenly stretches across his face.

“No one will be in my office bathroom…”

You bite your lip, holding back a smile. 

“Shall we meet in there?”

“I’ll have to sit with Patrizia for a little while, talk to some people, just to keep up appearances.”

He says, nodding. 

“But, how about we meet there in...let’s say an hour?”

“Saro li l’accordo.” (I’ll be there.)

You say, smiling up at him. 

He returns the expression. 

“Allora ci vediamo.” (See you then.)

One Excruciatingly Long Hour Later

You quietly step into Maurizio’s office, gasping when a pair of arms wraps around your waist, pulling you into the office. You look up and see him, immediately jumping into his arms, crashing your lips together. 

He carries you into the hidden bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him. His gaze is hungry as his darkened eyes rake up and down your dress-clad figure. 

“Bend over.”

He growls, head nodding towards the marble vanity. 

You bend yourself over, resting on your elbows. There isn’t much time before someone notices Maurizio’s missing, and you can tell he knows this as well, a sense of urgency in his fingers as he undoes his belt and pants.

You look at his reflection in the mirror, the sight of him in his wedding suit incredibly arousing, a certain sense of promiscuity surrounding us. Even more so than usual.

Maurizio quickly bends down and pulls the dress up over your hips, moving your panties to the side before rubbing his tip through your wetness. 

“We’ll have to be quick.”

He says, looking at you through the mirror’s reflection.

You nod, and he lines himself up with your entrance, chin resting on your shoulder as he pushes in, sighing loudly. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock stretching you out deliciously. You whimper as he pulls back and thrusts back in, your body jolting with his forward motion. 

“Tesoro.”

He moans into your ear, picking up the rhythm of his hips. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“O-Oh, Maurizio.”

You whimper, walls clenching around him.

One of his hands comes up from your hip and wraps around your throat, fingers shaking your jaw slightly. 

“Guardati, tesoro, guardati ti scopa allo specchio.”  (Look at you, treasure, watch yourself get fucked in the mirror.)

Your eyes go wide when you look at the reflection, seeing Maurizio positioned behind you, hips jackhammering into you. His glasses are steaming up slightly and his brow is furrowed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

Our eyes meet in the mirror and we moan together, the sight so erotic. 

“Per favore, fottimi di piu!” (Please, fuck me harder!)

You say, pushing your hips back against him. 

“Sono cosi vicino!” (I’m so close!)

A low growl rumbles through his chest and his back arches as he pounds you harder, turning his head so that his lips are right at your ear, breathing heavy.

“Si, tu sborra per me? Vuoi guardarti su tutto il mio uccello?”  (Yeah, are you going to cum for me? Are you going to watch yourself cum all over my cock?)

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the loud noises threatening to spill from your lips. 

“M-Muh...M-Maurizio!”

You cry out, hips jerking as you spill your release all over his cock.

“Ah, oh fuck!”

He’s close, too, now.

“Sto per sborra! Oh Dio, ti riempiro io!” (I’m going to cum! Oh God, I’m going to fill you up!)

“Fallo, ti prego! Lo voglio tantissimo!” (Do it, please! I want it so badly!)

His eyes go wide for a moment as his hips stop, pressed deeply inside of you. He cums with a long, low moan, hips rutting as he rides out his high. 

“Prendila, prendila dentro di te...” (Take it, take it all inside of you…)

You fall forward onto the cool marble, body limp for a minute after your climax. Maurizio stays buried deep inside of you until he regains control of his breath, pulling his now-limp length from you, quickly tucking it back into his wedding pants. 

He helps you pull your dress back down and straighten yourself out. 

You gasp when he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, holding you against him. Your lips meld together perfectly, your hands gently tugging on his hair. 

You two pull away moments later, panting softly. 

Maurizio looks sad as he reaches down to hold your hands.

“You’re amazing, beautiful, you’re perfection.”

He kisses your knuckles, which makes you smile. 

“Ci vediamo presto, tesoro mio.” (I will see you soon, my treasure)

You nod, lip quivering slightly when the reality hits. He’ll be gone for two weeks on his honeymoon. 

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close, allowing a single tear to fall down your cheek. 

“I’ll miss you while you’re away.”

He buries his face into your neck.

“I will call you at some point, I promise.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the office door. It’s Giovanni.

“Maurizio, ci sei?” (Maurizio, are you in there?)

His eyes go wide as he pulls away.

“Si! Sarò fuori tra un attimo.” (Yes! I’ll be out in a moment.)

Maurizio looks down at you one last time, tears in his eyes.

“Addio, tesoro mio. Fino a quando ci incontriamo di nuovo.” (Farewell, my treasure. Until we meet again.)

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci smut #maurizio gucci fluff #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x reader smut #maurizio gucci x reader fluff #maurizio gucci x you #house of gucci #tw: extramarital affair #tw: tobacco use #tw: age gap #tw: age difference

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part One

Requested?: fuck no, I wrote this one all for my ownsome.

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: My GOD! Julie and the Phantoms is amazing, and while I have the theory I enjoy it so much because I didn’t really have a ‘teenage years’, I really don’t give a shit. I’m writing Luke Patterson fluff and you can all suck it!

Warning: um, none yet. This is a very PG show so PG fic.

Context: This is a reader insert mini series. It goes from 1x05 of JATP until the end, I’ll be releasing a part every day/two days. It is Luke x Reader, as much as I love my Juke ship, so Luke and Julie’s relationship is a lot more friendly than in the show. Also, some scenes may be different, dialogue from the show is used, yada yada.

--

Some might not believe it, but life starts, properly starts, when you die. At least, it did for Y/N Y/L/N.

Her life on earth had been short, and dull, and ended tragically with plenty left undone: it didn’t surprise her that she came back as a ghost. If anything, she would have been a bit shocked if she hadn’t: she had, after all, died with so much potential wasted, so much she could have done.

She was lucky that Caleb had found her.

“5 minutes ladies!” A voice called from afar, receiving a chorus of ‘thank you five’ from around the dressing room as performers hurried to get the last of their makeup and hair done, readying for that’s night’s performance, and knocking Y/N from a stupor. She came back to reality, taking the lid off the lipstick she had been playing with for the last ten minutes and finally applying it, then proceeding to take the curlers out her hair and slip on her heels for the night. Caleb had mentioned for her to be on the look out for special guests in front, and she had dressed in her best costume for the occasion.

She heard a sigh of relief as she finally moved from the mirror, a few of the girls crowding the vanity to start applying their finishing touches, none of them brave enough to interrupt Y/N’s ponderings: she may have died at 17, but none of the dancers had been with the club as long as she had, none were as faithful to Caleb as she was.

She had been his right-hand woman for almost 25 years now, some of the staff had barely been there a quarter of that time.

Her heels clicked as she headed for the stage, blowing a pin curl from her face and tucking it back into place as she took a spot on the stage and looked out at the crowd forming: from the looks of it, that night would be their busiest all week. The lifers were starting to settle at tables, collecting the last drinks before the opening number of the evening, mingling with excitement in the air and secrecy on their lips: they were getting to experience something forbidden, something beyond reality, after all.

She scanned the room, looking for the familiar face she had grown to love over the past decades, finally finding him stood in his best tuxedo – which consisted of a tailcoat, patterned black and gold shirt, and a pair of tailored board shorts – at the foot of the staircase with three boys around the same age as them, all watching in awe as lifers passed through them and proceeding to question her best friend.

“Willie!” She called, running over with a wave and a smile to him and the trio, getting a good look at them all as Willie’s arm came around her waist and hugged her into his side. The first, a familiar looking tall, lanky blonde kid in a jean jacket that Y/N was sure was the guy Willie had been gushing over just an hour or so earlier; the second was the tallest, close to a foot taller than Y/N herself, with quiffed black hair slicked back with gel, dressed like a new age Rockstar in leather and red colours. And then the third, with a dopey grin and a mop of chocolate hair on his head, paired with a painted denim overcoat and obscure band tee underneath, who unashamedly looked her over as she stood at Willie’s side.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Willie introduced her to be met with raised eyebrows from the three. By appearance alone, Willie constantly in a state of casual skater attire, and Y/N stood in front of them with pin curls, high heels and a blue sequin number that accentuated every one of her features, it just didn’t seem like they could be friends. “She looks a lot different in the day time.”

“Very funny William.” Y/N quipped back, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Why don’t I show you all to your table?” She offered, holding out a hand to the one in the leather jacket, who took her hand with a slack jaw and dumbfounded nod of the head.

“Yes, yes please.” He managed, and Y/N led the four down to their table, front and centre. “I’m Reggie, by the way. And that’s Alex and Luke. We’re in a band… Actually, we’re here tonight because-” Reggie started to ramble, but Y/N held a manicured finger to his lips, an innocent smile on her face.

“We don’t talk business here. You sit down and enjoy the show, alright? I’m sure Willie can keep you company, sort you boys out.” She said with a flirty tone, a habit she had grown into working the HGC scene: easier to flirt with the guests, often means a bigger pay-out by the end of the night. Willie pulled out a chair for Alex, the blonde one, who smiled shyly at her friend and sat down, Luke the last to take his place at the table.

“Y/N, is it?” He asked, looking her over a second time. He sat back in his chair, a smirk on his face as she came closer, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

“Careful there handsome, I don’t fraternise with guests.” She laughed a little as she said it, blowing a kiss in his direction before disappearing back stage for the show, soon to start. It took Luke a second to look away, to focus back on what the three had come there for: their old bandmate had stolen their music, passed it off as his own, and they were quite intent on making him pay.

“Ok, so, who’s going to make us visible so we can confront our old band mate?” He asked Willie, looking around the room at the lifers, wondering if one of them had the same weird power Julie seemed to possess.

“Oh, no, no, none of these lifers have the power to do that.” Willie corrected, just as music started up from the stage. “Oh, but here comes the ghost who does.” Willie drummed his fingers on the table in excitement, leaving the three bandmates rather confused. Willie had brought them there with no real information about what or who they were meeting.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a male voice announced from nowhere in particular, “Back from the dead by popular demand, please welcome Caleb Covington.” The words were met with applause and cheers from the crowd, Willie letting out a few whoops and prompting the boys to start clapping as in a puff of purple smoke, a man appeared in the middle of the air.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, reaching his arms out in a gesture of thanks to the loving crowds, dressed in black and purple satin. He was met with a collective ‘hell yeah’ from the audience, causing Reggie, Luke and Alex to share side glances, all a little on edge. “I did too!” He responded, met with laughter and more cheers. “Welcome to the party of your dreams!” He introduced, his voice commanding attention and respect, not to mention his floating in mid-air. “From the Egyptians to the Druids, to the person sitting next to you, we’ve all wondered ‘where do we go when that final light is snuffed out’?” The bandmates couldn’t deny, this Caleb guy was certainly intriguing. “Let me show you.

“Let me introduce myself, we’ve got some time to kill. Consider me the pearly gates to your new favourite thrills.” He moved forward in the air, floating closer and closer to the boys’ table at the front, and Luke couldn’t help but feel that Caleb was singing to them, to him. “We could go make history or you could rest in peace, but here there ain’t no misery cause on the other side we live like kings.

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose. Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two cause you ain’t seen nothing…” With a flick of his cape as he landed down, the stage suddenly filled with musicians and dancers, all ghosts that had been invisible to even the four dead boys in the front.

“Life, is good on the other side of Hollywood.” The song continued, and as his counterparts took in the full ensemble on stage, Luke found his eyes drifting to the girl they had met, Willie’s friend Y/N. She had managed in the few moments from leaving to arriving on stage to have sprayed a lock of her curls blue, and come into possession of a feather fan the same colours as her dress. Another girl stood across the stage in the same attire, except she also sported a blue wig and headpiece, which it seems Y/N had forgone.

Luke had reason to stare of course: not only was she beautiful, but a talented dancer, and as Caleb sang away she joined in on backing vocals, the pair linking arms as she danced around him, then spun into a dip, Caleb’s arm holding her steady as she fluttered her fan. Movement around them snatched his attention from her, waiters in pink suits coming from all sides to form a circle around Caleb.

What followed was a barrage of temptation: from the countless desserts circling past to the girl that appeared from under their table cloth to the trapeze artists and the dancing that got everyone on their feet and cheering along. It was only after Caleb ended the number by disappearing thanks to the help of Y/N and her fellow fan girl that the room finally settled down a little.

“This is so cool…” Reggie muttered, waving to some lifers across the room: they could see him, see them: actually see them.

“Dude, I knew I recognised him.” Alex gestured, pulling Reggie’s attention from his apparent visibility and Luke’s from scanning the room for a certain girl in blue. “He’s the guy that bumped into me outside the Orpheum.”

“Wait. Isn’t he that magician dude that died a horrible death doing a trick?” Reggie asked Willie, who laughed a little in response.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t bring that up whenever we meet him.” Alex scolded Reggie, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, but you should come back when he shows one of his movies.” Willie interjected with a grin. “I mean, for Titanic, he literally floods the entire place. I mean, the guy has got skills.”

“Alright, but he can, like, wave his arms and make ghosts visible to lifers?” Luke asked, perhaps the most rooted in reality after the performance, still quite set on their goal for coming here, for cutting it short of their performance with Julie.

“Told you, the guy’s got skills.” Willie shrugged, and Reggie looked back at the stage.

“So, uh, where’d he go?” He asked, taking a glance into the stage wings before turning back round and jumping back about a foot in surprise, Caleb stood right behind Alex and Luke. “Oh wow! Found him! Ha!”

“Hello boys, Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Caleb introduced himself, a smile on his face and the accent of a fifties radio presenter. “Enjoying the show?” He asked, and Luke took lead.

“That was… I mean… Did you… Like…” He tried to articulate it, but found his mind going back to the girl in the blue dress and went a little red, and gave up trying to find the words, letting his appraising arms fall to their sides.

“I know.” Caleb responded with a light chuckle.

“This is Alex, Luke, and Reggie.” Willie introduced them all to Caleb.

“it’s really nice to meet you.” Alex offered, Reggie following it with a peace sign and a ‘sup?’, which put a smile on Caleb’s face.

“The pleasure is all mine. Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends.” Caleb explained, gesturing for the boys to take a seat as he took one of his own. “Now, our friend Willie here tells me you guys have some magic of your own?” He questioned Alex, who’s eyes widened at the man’s quizzing.

“Willie and I? I wouldn’t call it magic exactl-” Alex started his response, his voice getting squeakier as he went on, but was quickly cut off by Willie’s hand on his shoulder.

“He means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie.” Willie corrected. Alex started an apology, but Caleb raised a hand, showing it wasn’t needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t really wave our arms and do all this magic stuff.” Luke added, but Caleb didn’t seem phased by his humbling of their ability.

“Well, I’ve had some practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It’s not often I come across other spirits who possess similar talents.” Caleb explained. “It’s no surprise we found each other.”

“Yeah, that… definitely…” Luke agreed, and Caleb smile briefly, standing from his chair.

“If you’ll forgive me fellas, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying. I’ll be back later to chat.” The host excused himself, all of their eyes following to find Willie’s friend Y/N stood in a black dress, waiting for Caleb. “My darling! Oh, look at that dress! Where have you been?” He asked her.

Unbeknownst to the bandmates, Willie and Y/N shared a glance as Caleb took her by the waist and led her towards the back stage area, and Willie checked the time.

9.10… The boys were late to their gig, and if the Hollywood Ghost Club had anything to do with it, they would never arrive.

--

As the night continued on, and after Reggie learned the shocking revelations that not only was Han Solo killed in the Star Wars franchise, but that they added a character named Jar Jar Binks, Willie found himself fleeing for a moment. He had spent the entire night with Alex, and the more time he spent with him, the more he liked the guy.

Willie needed some air, a break, and in searching for it he ran into Y/N.

“Aren’t you meant to be out there? Flirting with the lanky one?” She asked with a teasing tone, running her fingers through her curls, slowly separating them into waves. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. And your type. And dead, which is a huge bonus. I’m tired of watching crush over men you can’t actually touch.”

“Yeah well… He was asking too many questions, didn’t want to spook him.” Willie shrugged, rubbing his arm. He didn’t like the feeling in his stomach, and Y/N could tell he felt off.

“Do you need to sit this out? I can keep them entertained; I have a feeling the one in denim has arms like Adonis.” She offered with a giggle, and Willie frowned a little. “Oh come on, Willie… It’s not like they’re being branded or anything. We’re just…” She paused, glancing over as she spotted Caleb talking to the trio, then offering them stacked plates of food. “We’re perks to the package.” She winked at her friend, who rolled his eyes at her words and pulled her to his side for a hug.

“You make it sound like the dream job.” Willie chuckled, hanging his head a little.

“Isn’t it?” Y/N raised a brow, and squished his face between her fingers before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Let them eat for a while, join them later if you feel up to it. I’ll be getting denim on the dance floor though.” She shrugged, heading to go fix her makeup when Willie got her arm.

“His name is Luke… And from what I can tell, he’s actually a pretty nice guy.” He told her, met with a smirk and batting eyelashes.

“Just how I like them.” She replied, pulling her arm away and heading back to the dressing room, leaving Willie in a state of quandary.

By the time the final performance of the night was ready to begin, Reggie, Alex and Luke had eaten three platefuls of food each, having forgotten what pizza and burgers and meatball subs actually tasted like. And as Reggie found himself defending kissing his meatball sub to Alex, Luke felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Y/N stood behind him with a smirk painted on red lips.

“Well, how can I be of service?” He asked her, wiping the last traces of pizza grease from his fingertips onto his jeans, earning a genuine smile from the glamour model of a woman.

“It’s what I can do for you…” She replied, holding out a hand to him. “You’ll be in need of a dance partner shortly.” She explained as Caleb took the stage, starting his monologue about how “we do dessert”.

“I thought you said you didn’t fraternise.” Luke reminded as the music started up and the dance floor filled, the room once again alive with cheers and clapping. Y/N walked backwards into the middle of the floor, Willie quickly joining her centre stage as the beat picked up on entry into the chorus and the room got to their feet.

“You’re the exception to the rule, Denim.” Y/N called back, Luke grinning at the nickname she had given him, earning a nudge from Alex. He swatted his friend playfully as the three of them watched Y/N and Willie join in a huge dance routine.

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood.

Caleb’s voice resonated in the air as waiters, showgirls, and the like all started pulling patrons onto the floor with them. Caleb approached the trio, beckoning the girl who had popped up from their table earlier that night to dance her way through each bandmate: ending with a shimmy to the floor in front of Reggie that had the poor boy near unconscious.

As one of the girls in blue took the recovering Reggie onto the dance floor, and as Alex wondered where Willie had disappeared to, Y/N made her way over to Luke and offered her hand. This time, instead of asking questions, Luke took it eagerly. He didn’t hesitate in walking her on to the dance floor though, instead pulling her close by the waist as her hands rested on his chest.

“You know how to jive?” She asked him, the pair stood still for a moment amongst the chaos around them. There was so much of it, Y/N almost didn’t notice Caleb sending Willie backstage with a flick of his finger, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts. Luke had responded to her question by taking her hand and spinning her out before coiling her back in. Her arms went over his head, Luke spinning this time as they began kicking feet in perfect synchronicity and in time with the music. Luke pulled Y/N close, lifting her up and spinning with her, causing the girl to shriek and throw her head back in laughter.

As the song came to an end, Y/N glanced back to the stage and received a firm nod from the belting host, her cue to leave. She spun Luke out of her grasp once she hit the floor, handing him over to one of the show girls who promptly dipped him at the same time as Reggie fell for the same move, leaving both boys laughing as Y/N disappeared behind the stage.

She and Willie had both done their jobs after all, she could go back to her room for the night, get some rest. She walked over to her vanity backstage, wiping away the stage makeup, brushing out her curls, and changing into more comfortable clothes. She only stopped when she heard the gong of the club’s clock.

Midnight.

She sighed, glancing in the mirror one last time before heading out to the front of house, noticing the boys she had been acquainted with that night were no longer on the floor, instead making a bee-line for the exit. Her feet were quick to follow, slowing only when Caleb poofed into place in front of the fleeing teens.

“Gentlemen, what’s the rush?” He asked, his eyes catching on Y/N for a moment as she disappeared back into the crowds. “The party’s just getting started, and you have eternity, after all.” He reminded them with a cheerful smile.

“You know that girl who can see us? We sort of bailed on her.” Reggie began through ragged breath, thanks to Alex and Luke pulling him from the dancefloor. “See, there’s this dance at her school and her friend Flynn is a super cool DJ, like-”

“Ok, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear the story.” Alex interrupted.

“Basically, we’re late for a gig.” Luke finished, and Caleb frowned at the words, prompting an eavesdropping Y/N to step a touch closer.

“But what about my offer?” Caleb asked, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

“It’s very cool of you, Mr Covington, but, like I said, we already have a-” Luke began again, but Caleb raised his hands in defeat.

“A band of your own.” He finished for the boys, Y/N pondering it over. Had Caleb wanted the three for the house band? “I understand… But boys, if you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

And there it was, the final temptation.

“Yeah man, we’d love to come back.” Luke smiled.

“Music to my ears!” Caleb returned the affectionate expression, offering a hand to each of the boys in turn. With each shake, the boys pulled back, a mark becoming branded on their wrist. When they frowned at the symbol, Caleb interrupted. “Oh, it’s just a little club stamp.” He assured, and their faces lit back up again. “Until next time.” Luke was first to exit, and Y/N followed after him quickly, stopping him just before he reached the stairs to leave.

“You’ve got good feet on you…” She said with a smile, catching him by surprising and evoking a smile.

“You’re not half bad yourself…” He countered, taking a few steps closer. She held a finger up for a moment, walking over to a table on the far side of the room and picking up a pen before returning.

“Arm.” She demanded, and Luke held it out willingly. Y/N frowned for a second, noticing the marking on his wrist, but didn’t let it stop her from pushing up his sleeve and writing a phone number on his arm. “You might think it’s bizarre, but I have access to a landline. There’s one at the club. Call me if you decide on coming back… Or…” She blushed a little, and Luke grinned.

“Or if I want to call up the pretty showgirl and see her outside of the club? I will.” He assured her, puling his sleeve back down as Reggie walked out the club, his eyes widening at the pair, having to take a second glance at Y/N out of her costume: while neither he nor Luke could read minds, they were both thinking the same thing.

Y/N somehow looked even better out of her showgirl get up.

Perhaps it was the mismatched converse high tops, or the fishnet tights under her ripped shorts, maybe it was the ripped band tee displaying the iron maiden cover art, Luke wasn’t sure. But she was gorgeous, and knowing she seemed to like what he did just added to the fact.

“See you around, Denim.” Y/N smiled, lifting the collar of his jacket for a moment before letting it go and heading inside, walking past Alex as she went.

“Was that Willie’s friend?” He asked in surprise, Reggie nodding.

“I think Luke’s in love.” He teased, earning a punch on the arm from the band’s led guitarist.

“Shut it, Reggie. Now, let’s get to that dance.” Luke quickly reminded them, the three quickly disappearing with the destination of Julie’s school in mind, all of them preparing for a major scolding for being three hours late.

--

Part Two is here...

--

Tags: @im-a-writer-right​

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

[babbushka]

Invitation Only

Bond Villain!Kylo Ren x 007!Reader 

3.5k ; NSFW (69, oral sex (m & f receiving) fingering, come eating, come swallowing, mirror sex, PIV)

Inspired by some prompts requesting masquerade/costume party with BV!K

Available on AO3

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

Sometimes, you can’t help but think as you make your way down the grand staircase, being an agent really does pay off.

It’s shockingly easy to sneak into the party, the ball. Because that’s what it is really, a grand costume ball hosted on Halloween. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to slip through the doors, everyone is wearing masks and therefore could be anyone in the world. By that same token, you could be anyone, and for tonight, you relish in the opportunity to be no one; the opportunity to simply enjoy the party, and try to gain some intel for Mi6. There were no attacks planned tonight, no fights ��� you didn’t even have any guns on you this evening.

No, you were here simply to mingle with the best of the worst; the most powerful criminals, evil villains and masterminds that the world had to offer.

So it should make sense, that you would run into Kylo.

You knew he would be here, of course. In fact, you had almost been counting on it, you had dressed for it. You knew he’d be here, and you knew that he knew you’d be here too, so you made sure to put on your most elaborate ball gown, hair done up to the nines, and of course a beautifully crafted mask tied around your face. You knew he’d appreciate the effort, and that he’d come find you to tell you just how much.

However, you hadn’t expected him to take his time finding you. You’d been at the costume ball for nearly two hours, a martini glass in one hand and a winning smile the only thing keeping you company as you rejected offers for dances from men and women alike. Kylo wouldn’t have been too pleased with that, you smirk to yourself behind your glass, and you weren’t here to cause a scene.

It’s elegant, the party. Set in one of these rich old men’s rich old homes, a castle atop a hill in the south of Germany proudly hosts nearly three hundred guests. Ornate candelabras and chandeliers are lit with the orange glow of candles, there are servants walking around with silver trays of food and drink, the baroque music is played by a lively orchestra, and henchmen and masters alike enjoy the merriment on the dance floor.

You have relocated to the upper level of the ballroom, one hand skimming along the banister railing that prevents guests from toppling down off the balcony which overlooks the dance floor. Eyes cast downward, you search through the group of beautifully organized dancers, trying to find the handsome villain you have come to adore.

When he comes up silently beside you, you grin.

“Are you aware that this party is invitation only?” Kylo muses, his voice deep.

You do not turn to face him, instead captivated by the way the dancers spin and move around one another, choreographed steps that have you itching to join them. Taking a sip of your martini, you smile.

“Who’s to say that I wasn’t invited?” You counter. The both of you know you weren’t invited, but what did it matter? You were here, you weren’t causing any trouble, there was no cause for alarm.

Kylo grins and puts his hand on the railing close to yours. He’s wearing gloves, the same as you are; but where yours are long satin opera gloves that go up to your elbow, his are short made of cotton, white and pristine.

“Finally decided to see the light and join the better side, have you?” He murmurs, voice low in your ear as he steps a little closer to you. He too casts his gaze down to the view below, approvingly.

“Maybe I have, or maybe I wanted an excuse to dress up, we’ll never know.” You shrug, finally turning to look at him.

“It’s a beautiful costume, but I’d much rather see what you’re hiding underneath it all.” He’s all teeth when he grins at you, sinister and handsome beyond belief.

Getting a good look at him, you rake your eyes over his body. He’s usually formal, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him in casual dress, but tonight he has truly taken it up a notch. He’s wearing a white bowtie along with his top hat and tails, his starched shirt handsomely pressed and near blindingly clean. His mask is nothing more than a thin strip of gauzy black fabric over his eyes, and you raise a brow. It does nothing to conceal his identity, unlike the more traditional masquerade mask that you sport.

“Incorrigible.” You swat his shoulder as you link your arm around his, allowing him to lead you away from the banister and down the stairs. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about.” Kylo replies easily, and you bite back a groan at his lines. Kylo is nothing if not dramatic, after all.

“Sorry, is that supposed to impress me?” You reply sarcastically instead, and Kylo chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that blooms into your side from where you’re holding onto him.

“Did it?” He teases.

“No.” You lie, and he only grins again. You’ve missed that smile, even though you’d never let him know that.

“Then no.” He lies right back, and before you can say anything else, he frowns suddenly. “You haven’t danced with anyone all evening.”

That observation doesn’t surprise you, but you feel the need to give him some grief about it anyway. Kylo leads you through the dance floor, the two of you wandering and meandering through joyous couples on the marble tile, careful not to bump into anyone as they spin and bow and step in time to the music.

“Oh so you’ve been watching this whole time, have you.” A waiter passes you by, and you place your empty martini glass onto the tray as he goes, both your hands free for what you hope will be a fun dance. “I wonder why you didn’t come see me sooner.”

Kylo falters for a moment, and that’s a rare sight to see, the sight of him biting the inside of his cheek with nerves.

“I wasn’t sure that you’d want to see me…our last meeting did not end as well as I always hope.” He replies quietly, and you sigh.

The last time you had seen one another was nearly two months ago, an agency helicopter swooping down to pick you up from a rooftop shootout in Spain. Kylo had been the one shooting at you that time, and you back at him.

“I know you missed on purpose.” You shake your head, “You have better aim than that.”

Seemingly appeased, Kylo stops right in the middle of the dance floor and turns to face you fully. The music ends and everyone turns to applaud the orchestra. That had been a short dance, so they do not take a break, the conductor murmuring to her musicians and telling them of the next piece.

“Dance with me, just one dance.” Kylo bows deeply before you, and offers a hand.

You do not hesitate to take it.

This piece is slower, much slower. It is heavily piano based, as opposed to the lively strings of the previous music, and you can’t help but wonder if Kylo planned it this way. The crowd thins a little as well, those who had tired themselves out while dancing their hearts away retiring to the sidelines for a new crop of villains to take the floor.

Kylo’s hand is on yours, his other tucked behind his back as you both follow along with the dance. Kylo has always been elegant in his own way, in everything he does, and the dancing is no different. In fact, as the strings begin to swell along with the piano, you feel as though you’re the only two people in the entire castle. You look into his eyes through his thin mask, and he stares into yours, and that is it, it is just the two of you.

Candles glow all around you as you and Kylo walk around one another, as he holds your hand and bows to you, as he never keeps his eyes off of you. In the back of your mind, you know that everyone is watching you. You, the mysterious woman who has shown up to this party, dancing with one of the most notorious and dangerous criminals among them. Who were you to have won his attention? Oh, if only they knew.

“You’re very good at this.” You say softly, so that only he can hear.

“I’ve been practicing.” He admits readily, and you let out a little laugh at that, at the image of him roping one of the Knights of Ren into dancing with him again and again. They’re good sports, supportive of their master, you wonder if they’re here tonight on the dance floor elsewhere, showing off the moves they have had to learn.

“Now that does impress me.” You smile, and he beams.

The piece comes to an end a few minutes later, minutes spent gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes, quirked shy smiles and affectionate squeezes of hands. Once again, like with every other time you’re with Kylo, he doesn’t feel like an enemy. You don’t feel like you’re surrounded by people who want to kill you, you feel…accepted, welcomed, warm.

Those are dangerous feelings for an agent to have about her target, but you have them nonetheless.

“Shall we get out of here?” Kylo asks you discreetly as you applaud the orchestra once the music ends.

You nod, having hoped that the evening would take this turn.

 The room he brings you to is lavish, luxurious, gorgeous. It looks as though it’s never been modernized from the time the castle was built, whenever that must have been. A great big canopy bed takes up the majority of the room, red velvet drapes with golden ropes holding them open framing the mattress. You hardly have any time to look at anything else, before Kylo is taking you by the hand and bringing you to it.

You step out of your shoes and follow him, his hands frantically searching for the zipper, the button, the clasps anything that will get you out of these clothes and into his arms, and you laugh fondly at his enthusiasm. He’s so enthusiastic in fact, that he drops down to his knees and crawls underneath your giant skirt, his hands working to unclip your garters, to pull your stockings down, to mouth at your pussy through your underwear.

“Kylo!” You gasp and laugh at how bold he is, “Get up here.”

“Naked, I want you naked. There’s too many layers.” He growls, doing as he’s told. You reach behind yourself for the hidden zipper, and when Kylo finds it too, he gives it a hard yank.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.” You snap when the dress protests with a creak, and Kylo only moans.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me baby.” Releasing your dress, his hands instead cup your throat, your cheek, as he kisses you sloppy hot and wet.

You kiss him back, unzipping the gown and letting it fall down your body. You remove your undergarments quickly as he kisses you still, his mouth insistent upon yours, his tongue firm and slick as it slides against your teeth. He’s still fully clothed, and he scowls about it, breaking away to begin shedding clothing of his own.

While he does that, you take the opportunity to climb up onto the bed. It’s massive, it feels like there could be five people fitting easily here, and it is so plush that you sink into it with a pleased hum. A fireplace crackles and snaps across the room, and though you’re naked in this big castle, you’re warm. Even warmer still, when Kylo’s naked body joins you on the mattress and pulls you tight against him.

He’s achingly hard, you can feel his cock brush against your thigh as he kisses you some more, touches you. His hand drifts down between your legs and he dips his fingers into the folds of you pussy, massaging and encouraging your cunt to drip all over him. You reach to do the same for him, but he shakes his head, kisses your jaw.

“Let me eat your pussy, I’ve been thinking about it for months baby, please.” He whispers, and you find that you would rather die than deny him.

“How do you want me?” You reply straight away, and he sucks in a breath, excited, eager, rife with anticipation.

“Sit on my face, right here.” He manhandles you a little until you get the hint, straddling his head, your knees on either side of his ears. He’s got you facing away from him, and hanging up on the wall is a grand ornate mirror in a gilded gold frame. Maybe he doesn’t notice, but you do, as he sighs and licks into you with an, “Attagirl.”

Your pussy throbs around his tongue, his fingers. He keeps two in you, rubbing at the front of your walls, thrusting in and out slowly while he licks and sucks at your cunt. Your nipples stiffen at once, and your hands come up to cup your breasts and give them a squeeze, the sensation going straight to your clit.

“Fuck,” You moan, “Fuck that’s good, Kylo,”

It’d been so long since you’d been pleasured like this, since you’ve had his nose prodding up into you, his fingers curling and crooking inside your body, stretching you, opening you up for what you’re sure will be the fucking of a lifetime when this is done.

You ride his face, hips moving of their own accord, wanting more, seeking more. You stare at your reflection, watch as you rise and lower yourself onto his tongue, how your pussy drools and soaks his chin, how he swallows it down with groans and hums and sighs of his own. You look up, there is a mirror there too, you wonder if Kylo’s able to see himself eating your cunt like this, or if his eyes are shut with pleasure.

“Your dick’s drooling for me.” You manage to sigh, “Let me take care of you Kylo.”

His thighs twitch and his knees bend, hips pushing up at the insinuation. He doesn’t stop licking sucking biting kissing fingering your pussy as you shift yourself forward so you can grasp the shaft of his cock with one hand and wrap your lips around the head that’s oozing pre-come just for you.

“Mmm!” Kylo chokes on your pussy with the first hard suck you give his cock, and you both laugh through it, laughter that turns to moans as he fingers you harder, eats you out faster, a challenge.

You’ve never been one to back down from anything, and you don’t plan on backing down from this. You hollow out your cheeks and work him down down down your throat, until your nose nestles in the thick black patch of hair, your neck bulging out from where you’ve managed to fit nearly all of him.

Bobbing your head, your hands wind around his thighs and stroke at his calves, teasing touches that have him gasping as he buries his face in your pussy.

“Fuck – baby – I’m gonna -- !” Kylo moans and grunts into your pussy as he thrusts his hips up and fucks your throat, wishing he had a hand in your hair to keep your head down, keep you steady.

You pull off him quickly so you don’t choke, just as his come spurts from the head of his cock, landing all over his stomach, the hard firm muscle twitching as you jerk him off, stroking every last drop you can squeeze out.

“God you’re good to me.” Kylo grunts, nearly blacking out when you lean down to lick away some of his come, the flat of your tongue scooping it up off his skin and swallowing it. He smacks your thigh playfully for the effort, makes you whine.

“Fuck it into me,” Your voice is raw, used, but you reach for one of his hands and guide it to the pool of come on his abs. “Make me come on yours, mix it together.”

Kylo does as he’s told, moans into your cunt as he smears his fingers through his own come and pushes them into you, coating your insides with it. He thrusts his fingers hard and fast, until you’re riding his face in earnest to meet his pace, watching through lidded eyes in the mirror as your tits bounce and your body sweats on top of his.

When you come, you drench Kylo’s face, and the slurping sounds that come from his mouth as he swallows you down have you coming even harder, until you’re shaking, thighs trembling, and you have to be moved by him to lay on your side.

“Holy shit I missed this.” You laugh, delirious with bliss, and Kylo only hums in agreement, his cock still hard.

He doesn’t reply, instead shuffling down a little to worry one of your nipples between his lips, his arms wrapping around your middle tight. You sling a leg over his hip and card your fingers through his hair as he kisses and licks at your breasts, the both of you trying to catch you breath, shocks of pleasure rippling through your nerves.

After a while, Kylo’s breathing evens out so much, that you’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fallen asleep with your tits in his mouth. You gently tug on one of his ears and he groans, the kind of groan deep in his chest that only confirms you were right.

“We can’t stay here Kylo, someone will surely find us.” You say regrettably, still very aware of the masquerade ball which continues on downstairs. Music is playing, people are talking and laughing, all of those sounds come seeping back into your consciousness as the post-orgasm glow fades from your mind.  

“If they do I will simply tell them to fuck off.” Kylo only holds you tight, nuzzles his face further into your cleavage.

“I know you think you can do whatever you’d like but really don’t you think that’s in poor taste?” You chuckle, amused, twirling pieces of his long dark hair around your finger and giving them a little playful yank.

“Why should it be? This is my castle.” Kylo suddenly is invigorated, and your eyebrows shoot up as he rolls you over so that you’re lying on your back.

Your legs fall open for him, and he easily works his cock into your stretched and relaxed cunt, pussy giving way to him happily, easily. He doesn’t thrust, just holds himself there, holds himself above you as realization dawns across your face.

“…This is yours?” You blink, wondering how you had never known before, wondering just how many other lairs he had.

“Of course.” Kylo leans down to kiss your throat, your jaw, nibbling at your ear. “I threw this party. I wanted to see you.”

Of all the dramatic, theatrical, over the top schemes! You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head and covering your face with embarrassment that you had fallen for such a thing. Surely he knew by now that he could just call you, he didn’t have to go planning something so elaborate.

But – then again, this was Kylo.

Yes he did.

“I hate you.” You grin, and Kylo only takes the opportunity to start moving his hips in earnest, to start fucking you with that never ending stamina he seems to have whenever you’re around, and you laugh, filled with bliss and pleasure as he corrals your legs around his waist, one pushing up his shoulder to get a deeper angle, making you gasp out, “I hate you so much!”

Kylo only grins right back at you, those crooked teeth wanting nothing more than to dig into your flesh, to leave their marks, their bruises in your skin as your mouth falls open and your back arches into his touch. You’re watching yourself through the mirror on the ceiling, and you think that this is a good look, you spread out on the bed under him.

Kylo can tell you’re thinking too hard, and that won’t do, not for this evening. In the morning you can both deal with the fact that you’ve gathered absolutely no intel, that you’re an agent, that you’re the agent – but for now, for now Kylo kisses you, and smiles against your lips as you moan around his cock, and whispers against your tongue,

“Why don’t you close your eyes and hate me some more?”

And you do, except that you don’t.

In fact, you’re sure that after tonight, you’ll never be able to hate him again.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader insert #modern kylo ren #james bond au #bond villain!kylo #007!reader #my writing #kylo ren smut

[mrskurono]

title: Maybe, I’m Afraid || Takahiro Hanamaki x fem!Reader

a/n: this is self indulgent af bc I want to dance with Makki on my birthday which is today but I’m pretending it’s not today + lovelytheband makes me think of Makki + I ain’t posting anything else all day long

word count: 2.2k

tags: fluff, angsty undertones, friends to lovers trope, casual alcohol consumption, not much just dialog and dancing

character(s): Takahiro Hanamaki (hq)

Dancing in your party dress. 

You were singing me some Frank Sinatra as you wept.

This was swanky. 

Makki admitted this was a pretty spectacular birthday bash. Beat having a few beers at the bar for his birthday. That was his style. And this was your style. It always had been and always would be.

A tug on his tie as he raised the champagne flute for another swig and wandered around. Through crowds of familiar and unfamiliar. Friends and family. Makki knew each face for the most part and why they would be here celebrating your birthday. Even coworkers that he only heard once or twice. 

Everyone seemed so important. So why was he here?

Crowds thinning out. First when they’d separate when the man moved by them. Now Makki looked around to find most of the party guests weren’t around at all. He shrugged though. Figuring Mattsun didn’t mind him wandering around his home as he’d crashed with his bud a few times.

Hum of the music playing downstairs drown out by the chatter and walls. Makki laughed as he ascended to the second story about Mattun’s house being as quiet as a morgue. Jokes aside he didn’t think much of finding anyone up on the back balcony of the giant home. 

After a bit of mingling Makki found himself unable to find you. And the lackluster to parade around with all these people he hardly saw drained him faster than anything. He was here for you but he couldn’t steal your attention away like you were teenagers. Adults didn’t do that. Adults had boundaries. You both were adults now so Makki thought this was fine.

Fine as being alone again was. Makki trailed his fingers along the oaken table top pushed up against the wall of the hallway. Without a fleck of dust of course. He shrugged it off and grabbed at the door handle of the sliding door to let himself out for a breath of fresh air.

Hinted at the sound of the downstairs music drifting upwards. Makki giggled to himself, “Heh, Mattsun getting the cops called on him for being too loud would be-”

“Makki!”

Stopping in his tracks the man whipped around to see your familiar face across the patio. Surely as shocked as he was. Both of you stared at one another for a moment before Makki continued to shut the door much softer now behind him, “What are....why aren’t you downstairs?”

“Why aren’t you downstairs?” You hand his question back, “Did someone send you up here? I thought I asked Mattsun not to say anything and-”

Quickly he shook his head waving your questions away, “No. Mattsun has no idea, I just came up here for some air is all.” He stopped and looked over at the empty champange glass on the edge of the patio, “Do you need another? I can go get you something if you’d-”

“Heh no,” You smile, relaxing back into yourself after he said no one was looking for you, “This stuff gives me heartburn anyways.”

Makki ambled up to the edge of the balcony with you. Seeing a clear view of all the on goings below, “Were you stalking people up here? This would be a great place to drop something from.”

Glancing at the man leaning into the railing next to you. Only a second goes by before you lean into your elbows and gaze out at the backyard with everything going on, “Nah. I wanted to return half this crap anyways when it’s over. Cleaning stains out woulda been too hard.”

He stopped poking fun at the party itself for a second. Chin resting in his palm when he casted a look over in your direction. Instead of the shimmering party hostess he saw coming in earlier. Now all Makki .saw his his best friend slumped into their friend’s deck railing overlooking something that didn’t quite resemble a true party.

“...what’s the deal huh?” Makki’s brow arched up, “This isn’t really your thing. So why the big bash?”

Swallowing a deep breath. Only to be let out in one big sigh. You push off the railing and rock back and forth on your feet childishly, “I dunno...I didn’t want to have a birthday this year.”

“Then don’t have one and do something small?”

“No...I don’t mean the party part.” You stop rocking and settle flat on your feet while looking out at nothing in particular, “I didn’t want to have a birthday....didn’t wanna, think about me I guess.”

“So you threw a giant party?” Makki snorted at the logic.

You shook your head, “No, mom brought it up. Then Mattsun caught wind. Iwa agreed. One thing lead to another. Suddenly there was a party to celebrate ‘me’ and I was placed in the middle of it with a cake to boot.”

Stepping away from the balcony Makki turned around no longer interested in everything going on under the two of you. Instead he leaned back and looked lazily over at you but still with a slight grin, “You certainly look like a cake topper.”

“Shut up,” You add insult to injury when you roll your eyes and push him away from you.

“What, I’m just saying-” Makki shrugged frankly, “You look more like you should be in the middle of those people dancing. Not up here alone with an empty glass.”

For a second you look at the empty champagne glass. A song comes on below. Drowned by the distance. But clearly you can hear what is it. Even if this didn’t feel like your party. The music as yours. Slowly you begin humming softly before looking over at him with a smile, “I’m not alone though. You’re right here.”

He didn’t mean the snort laugh. Makki quickly back tracking to not make it seem so bad, “I mean- I’m just surprised. This seems so swanky. Doesn’t feel like a thing I’d be invited to.”

“Swanky?” You look at him.

“I picked up a word a day calendar.” Makki looks at you, “But I’m still in January.”

“It’s April.”

“Like I said....Swanky.”

Humming softer you don’t look out at the party. Opting to turn around and face up towards the rest of your friend’s nice house. Arms crossed over your bust as you listen carefully to the song below, “...I guess...the playlist is nice. But...I’d rather just be with those I love. Maybe drinking. Maybe dancing. None of this really....that is if I wanted to have a birthday that is.”

Sideways glance in your direction, Makki looked at the one person he might consider his best friend. Aside from Mattsun. You were his partner in crime for so much. Since you were kids. And now you were standing at a party you didn’t like and Makki hadn’t even thought he’d be invited to. How alone did he have to be to feel like this was ok when he was standing right next to you.

“...Maybe I can take you out later. Like- This weekend or something,” Makki shrugged nonchalantly, “You can wear the dress, if you want. But I’m not wearing this stupid suit.”

His offer brought a bit of a grin to your face. Casting your gaze over to him and admiring the fact he was quite dashing in such a get up. Neither of you had been fancied up at the same time since Mattsun’s house warming party over a year ago. And that itself was brief.

“It would be a shame if we both look this good and no one danced with us.” You off handedly comment.

Again Makki’s brow raises, “Birthday girl should go snag a dance then.”

“Nah,” You toss a look back down behind you, “I don’t want to dance with anyone down there.”

Makki snorted, “Iwa might be in the bathroom.”

“Nah Iwa has two left feet.”

“Mattsun had his shoes shined for this. They’re as clean as that table in the hallway.”

“Mattsun is a left foot.”

“Nice.” Makki high fived you for the zinger. His laugh short lived though as he looked at you even as you were distracted elsewhere, “...Don’t know what time it is in Argentina but who knows Skype Oikawa and he might give you a dance.”

The sentiment was nice. Really each of your friends would have danced with you if you asked. After all these years you still considered them some of your closest friends. But none of them where who you thought about when you imagined a dance a top a balcony in the midst of a party.

“You talk too much.” You break away to find Makki staring at you, “But I don’t care. I like listening to you.”

Makki’s lopsided smile didn’t fade but he looked down with a little shrug, “Maybe I’m just afraid of saying the wrong thing so I keep talking.”

“Well.” You looked up at him, “If you could say something that scares you, what would it be?”

Tongue held. Makki had a few. Ok, a lot. But seeing you stand in front of him with the gentle melody of the music drifting upwards. He really only thought of one.

“Will you dance with me? If I weren’t afraid of saying anything that is.”  You step closer to him. Closing the gap between the two of you as one hand found his. With ease your fingers laced with his like they always had in the past. Makki gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you, “And if you could say something you’re afraid of?”

You look up at him, “I’d ask you to dance with me.”

“Not a better party?” Makki quips.

“A better party would mean dancing with you.”

He can’t help the softening smile playing on his lips. Makki is certain he can feel his heartbeat in his throat now but it’s all to be pushed aside when he pulls you into him. 

Arms wrapped around your shoulders in the longest hug. You share in the gesture when your arms loop under his armpits. Nice and snug. It takes less time to find you both swaying to the hum of the music than it did for you to embrace one another.

“...it’s been a little hard.” Makki mutters, lips pressed to the top of your head.

“...I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” You reply quietly. Hugging him tighter as your cheek presses against the warm button of his shirt. You can feel his warmth under the layers of faux look.

“What are you talking about?” Makki pulled away a little offended to hear such a thing, “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.”

The smile you first had dips to a frown, “...we stopped talking so much. It felt like we lost touch...I guess, running away from my birthday. I thought I could go back to being your friend.”

“You have always been my friend,” He shakes his head, expressing a little more concern than he meant to as he squeezed you tighter, “It’s been a little tough. Loosing my job. Finding another. It’s been tough. I- I didn’t want you to be embarrassed by me. I thought I shouldn’t stay. That’s why-” He stopped, embarrassing himself all over again, “-that’s why I came up here. I was thinking about leaving so you could have your party.”

“Takahiro,” He never realized how weird his named sounded until it came from your lips. Saying it though yanked his attention fully on you before him, “I don’t want to be here if you aren’t. I want to spend my birthday with people I love...I want to spend it, with you-”

Urgently Makki leaned down and pressed his hips against yours. 

The first time since freshman year of high school. So many other kisses between that one and now. Lovers. Friends. Cheeks. Lips. Back of hands. Tops of heads. So many kisses between that one you shared freshman year and now. 

All this time you thought you’d be afraid. Afraid to feel this again. Too loose this again. But when Makki’s kiss slowly disappeared and left the two of you looking at each other. Suddenly you weren’t afraid.

Hand coming up around his neck you pull the man back down to you. Kissing him all over again. Knowing it wasn’t the first time but set that it wouldn’t be the last time now.

“...I’ll always be there.” Makki muttered against your lips, “Even if you don’t want to celebrate your birthday. I’ll be here. Dancing with you and kissing you until you tell me to go away.”

“What if I never tell you to go away?” You look at him, fingers curling in the hairs at the nape of his neck, “And, what if I want to celebrate my birthday every year with you.”

Suddenly relieved he didn’t leave. Makki pulled you not only into him but also for the third kiss of the night. Grinning against your lips, “You don’t even have to dance with me in your party dress. Just dance with me and I’ll kiss you every day of the year, plus your birthday. And I won’t make you drink champagne.”

#hq!! #hq x reader #hq makki #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #makki #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #takahiro hanamaki #takahiro hanamaki x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #hanamaki fluff #makki fluff

[voiceless-terror]

Smile and Nod (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Six: “Stop, please”

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard, Original Character

CW: Harassment, Unwanted Advances

Summary: 

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall?

Jon runs into trouble at the Institute’s annual donor party and has an unlikely rescuer. 

The Institute hosted a party for its most illustrious donors every spring. Jon had never been expected to go to it until his promotion to Head Archivist and even then he tried to get it out of it, to no avail.

“I’m afraid it’s part of your duties now as Head Archivist,” Elias had said. “We need to have a face for every department and I’m sure quite a few of our donors are anxious to meet Gertrude’s replacement. You understand, of course.” Jon nodded. “I trust you’ll be on your best behavior.” He hadn’t forgotten his promise to ‘be more lovely’ after the incident with Naomi Herne. 

“Yes, yes,” Jon sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the event- sticking close to Elias’s side didn’t seem very appealing, but being left to the wolves was even worse. Elias seemed to notice his hesitation and paused, waiting for Jon to continue. Perhaps he didn’t have to go alone. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?

“W-Would it,” he began, cursing his stutter. “That is, I would like to- if you don’t mind, I think it would be valuable to have my assistants attend, as well?” He hated the uptick in his voice that made it sound more like a question. “I-I just think it would be a good experience for them to ah, meet the donors as well. Since they do a lot of the research.” Another reminder that he had no idea what he was doing; Elias hadn’t said anything about his methods in the Archives, so he only hoped that indicated a tacit agreement about the way things should be run. 

Jon watched several emotions flit across the man’s face, irritation and disappointment giving way to resignation. He tried to ignore the first two and focus on the last. “Alright,” Elias agreed with a sigh. “Please stress the formality of this event, particularly to Mr. Blackwood. You’ll be representing the Institute, and as such you will be expected to interact with our donors. See that you don’t use your assistants as a social crutch.” Damn. There goes his plan. At least I’ll have some support. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway with his assistants in an ill-fitting suit he last wore to the funeral of a distant cousin. It didn’t fit then, either. He hoped he didn’t look too much like a child in his father’s clothes, but the snickers from Tim and Sasha dashed any hope of that. They looked wonderful, of course, as they always did. Martin was in the same boat as Jon, fidgeting in a blazer and non-matching pants.

“Well boss, looks like it’s time to schmooze!” Tim clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him through the door. Elias liked to have his parties in the main library- it was the most beautiful part of the Institute, aside from the entrance hall. The tables and desks that normally populated the center of the room had been cleared away to reveal a rather spacious area for guests to mingle and talk over the sound of a tasteful string quartet. The whole event was incredibly elegant and Jon felt like he very much did not belong.

“Ah, there he is!” He heard Elias call from the right-hand corner of the room, where he was surrounded by several well-to-do donors dressed to the nines. He gestured him over with a magnanimous hand and Jon instantly flushed. Tim squeezed his shoulder and pushed him in their general direction. “This is our new Head Archivist, Jonathan Sims. He’s been doing fine work thus far.”

After a moment Tim’s hand is replaced by Elias’s, firm and weighty on his shoulder. He’s exchanging pleasantries with people whose names he forgets almost instantly- their hands are cold and their voices distant, they talk over him as if he were a child they judged and found wanting. Elias’s hand did not move and he was anchored in place, even as they made no move to include him in their conversation.

He saw Martin give him a look of pity from the corner that he was currently occupying with Sasha and Tim. They had their hands full of hors d'oeuvres and drinks and Jon wished desperately for a glass of water, anything to keep his hands occupied. He turned to realize the  conversation had stopped and his companions were staring at him expectantly. “I’m sorry?” he hazarded, wondering if he’d been addressed.

“Our son George,” the woman over-enunciated, her tone condescending. Jon remembered vaguely that she had some connection to the Fairchilds, though her name wasn’t familiar. “-is over by the bar. I think you’ll find his company a bit more interesting, hm?” The group tittered and Jon felt shame rise in his throat as his boss’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Yes Jon, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Elias said genially enough, though Jon can tell he had disappointed him once again. Jon nodded, excusing himself to go to the corner to get a much-needed drink and to embarrass himself further. There was a man roughly his age fiddling around on his phone with a bored expression. He was tall and handsome but in the soft way of the rich, cruel and cherubic in equal measure. It unnerved Jon and he summoned up a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“G-George?” he asked, willing his voice to steady. The man looked up, expression unchanged as his eyes bored into Jon’s. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist-”

“Parents send you over?” he smirked and Jon felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit. “Sorry you had to deal with them. This your first time at one of these? Median age here is usually around seventy five, give or take.” He laughed and Jon smiled, the man’s candor a bit charming even to him. 

“Y-Yes, I’m not really sure I should be here,” he admitted as George slid a drink into his hand. He took a grateful sip and closed his eyes at it’s smooth burn- this was expensive liquor and Jon was going to savor every last bit.

“That makes two of us,” the man nudged him with his elbow and Jon started to think the night might not be as bad as he thought. He glanced quickly over to the other side of the room- Tim winked and gave him a thumbs-up (which he ignored) and Martin’s face was carefully blank. Jon did not know what to make of that.

George, it seemed, was not all that bad. He listened patiently when Jon went off on a rant about book-binding, nodding and smiling at all the right parts. In return, Jon let him talk about finance for longer than was polite (and God was it boring). They’ve now had two drinks and Jon is feeling much, much looser. The smiles are genuine and unforced. He watches Elias nod in approval out of the corner of his eye and feels his chest warm with pride. Not a complete disappointment, am I?

But George is getting closer. It was fine when they were awkwardly perched on opposite ends of the bar and needed to hear one another, but this was getting too cozy for Jon’s tastes. He tries to take a casual step backwards but stumbles. George’s hand goes to his elbow to help steady him and stays there. 

“I-I think I need to-” he starts to mumble an excuse but the man is not having it.

“What do you say we get out of here?” He whispers, coming in closer. Jon’s nerves reach a fever-pitch but he does not want to show it, doesn’t want to make a scene so he keeps the smile pasted on his face. “My apartment’s not that far-”

“O-Oh, I’m f-fine, thanks,” he says, trying to dislodge the man’s arm but it is no use- he is much stronger than he looks and has at least half a foot on him. “I actually have plans-”

“With who?” George asks pityingly as Jon tries desperately to meet anyone’s eyes, even Elias’s. He tries to convey his plea without making it obvious to any other bystanders but his boss’s eyes slide right over him. He knows he saw, he knows-

“That’s why they sent you over, right?” George continues, his mouth dangerously close to Jon’s neck as he leans into whisper in his ear. “Pretty thing like you, get me to open the cheque book-”

“Good Lord no, let me go-” at this Jon scoffs, horrified as he tries to yank his arm away.

“Don’t make a scene,” the man says in a low and calming voice, though the leer on his face is clear to see. Jon feels terribly small. “You don’t want to disappoint the boss, do you?”

“Please,” he begs, all out of words. “Stop, please-”

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall? 

“I’m sorry?” George replies with a sneer, his voice raising in both pitch and volume and Jon is sure if people weren’t looking before, they’re looking now. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this, we were just leaving-”

“No,” Martin replies in that preternaturally calm voice, still smiling. “You weren’t. Now let him go, and we can forget this all happened, hm?” He puts a hand on the arm that’s holding Jon and there’s real strength behind it. George tries to wrench his arm away but Martin’s got it in a solid grip and he barely manages a wiggle.

“Let go of me now, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Martin sounds bored. It is mystifying and Jon can do nothing but gape at the man. “You don’t want a scene, do you? Not in front of the family. Not again. So smile, and walk away.�� There is a moment where Jon thinks they will come to blows but it passes. George manages to turn his scowl into a neutral expression, saving some dignity though he throws one last glare Jon’s way. “Not even worth it,” he mutters as he walks away. Jon leans against the bar, releasing a breath he did not realize he’d been holding.

“A-Are you alright, Jon?” Martin has a hand on his elbow but it’s okay now because it’s Martin and it feels right. His face has that same look he gets when he asks Jon whether he wants a cup of tea, or how he’s feeling or if he’s eaten that day. Worried, gentle.

“W-What was that?” is all Jon manages to get out, his voice in an embarrassingly high-pitch. Tim and Sasha are now making their way over with schooled expressions, though Jon can see the worry in their eyes. “Did you know that man? I-I mean, what the hell?” Jon realizes he’s sputtering and tries to get a handle on his swirling emotions. “N-Not that I’m not grateful, but good lord. ‘Not again?’”

Martin laughs, suddenly bashful. “I just guessed with that one, honestly. He looks like the type that’s thrown a fit or two, doesn’t he?” Tim and Sasha reach them and Martin is himself again, hunched over like he’s taking up too much space. This is the Martin that tiptoes around the archives, that’s always smiling and chattering about his day. Jon has never contemplated the man in much detail, but he is finding it hard to reconcile this new side of him. It’s not necessarily unwelcome. 

“Alright there, boss?” Tim inquires, good-natured but anxious. “Was going to come over, pretend to be your boyfriend and all but Martin said that would be ‘demeaning’ or whatever.” Tim rolls his eyes at this.

“I don’t know, Martin seemed to diffuse the situation pretty well,” Sasha eyes him curiously. “What did you say?”

“N-Nothing, really-”

“He asked him to leave,” Jon says, finding his voice and unable to take his eyes off Martin. “And he left.”

“Damn, okay,” Tim gives an appreciative whistle before knocking back the rest of his drink. “Working that Mart-o magic, I guess. This party blows, let’s hit the bars. Night’s still young!”

Sasha cheers and Martin looks at him questioningly- he surprises himself by nodding in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go.” He studiously ignores Elias breaking off from his group of sycophants and heading their way. He watches as Martin straightens himself minutely, blocking Jon with his body as Tim ushers them out the door before they can get stopped by the man. Jon knows he will get a tongue-lashing out of this but he doesn’t care right now. He feels small in Martin’s shadow but it is a safe small, like a blanket wrapped around him on a chilly night.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Martin asks as Tim and Sasha chatter ahead of them, arguing over their destination. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. I can take you home.”

I can take you home.

“I’m fine,” he says though he knows the situation hasn’t quite set in yet. “I’d rather not be alone, I-I think.” Martin nods and gives him a smile. It is almost charming, and Jon returns it. He doesn’t really want another drink but he needs a distraction, any distraction.

The night is cold and Martin is close, big and safe and warm. And if Jon leans into his side when they finally agree on a bar, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856373

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jon/martin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #timothy stoker #elias bouchard #sasha james #whumptober2020 #no.6 #stop please #fic #harassment cw #unwanted advances cw

[dalish-spectre]

Trust the abyss - a Baldur's Gate 3 backstory. Ch. 4 Haunting riffs of a vazhan-do pierced the air accompanied by the sharp vocals of a deathsinger – drow bards whose vocals could command the undead if they so chose.

Tonight, however, this vocalist was entertaining rowdy crowds of guards from the various noble houses of Menzoberranzan at a tavern located on the fringes of the bazaar.

It was called the Jewel Box and Dinin had never been anywhere like it before.

He had never been this drunk before either.

Kelzt and Masryn had insisted on dragging him out of House Darketh’s perimeters and into the noisy crowded streets of the heart of the spider city.

Before House Do’Urden fell, the former elder-boy had only visited the bazaar on rare occasions when his Matron Mother had required him to. He had never been permitted to drink. Even after joining Bregan D’aerthe, he had only ever indulged in a few drinks with the band’s leader Jarlaxle. He preferred to keep his mind sharp and sober but going undercover as a guard within Darketh, his first mission as a houseless rogue, he was expected to play the part.

It would be suspicious if he refused to drink with the two guards that had decided to befriend him.

He didn’t know how much algae ale they’d be able to polish back.

So here he was, five ales deep, being dragged into a brothel by two drow he hardly knew.

“Don’t scowl so much, Dinyrr, you’ll scare the whores away,” laughed Kelzt as they’d stepped through the door. “I’d say a brush with death is a perfect reason to wet one’s blade somewhere other than the belly of a hook horror.”

Masryn chortled from beside him. “Maybe that’s what he wants – have you ever been to a whorehouse before? I’ve heard Gracklestugh has several.”

“I’ve no need of whorehouses,” Dinin replied coolly as they took a seat at a stalagmite table, the alcohol softened the usual edge of his voice.

Kelzt’s own laugh reverberated through the cavern as he motioned a serving slave over.

“We’ll take a bottle of sul-paga here,” he said to an older dwarven woman who had been around long enough to not bother flashing her eyes in an alluring manner. She simply nodded and wandered back towards the bar.

The Jewel Box was filled with tables made of stalagmites, twisting upwards with slate tops. Stone benches on either side accommodated guests who wanted to sit.

It was lit by faerie fire, candles and glowing blue fungi wound its way around various stalactites that protruded down from the ceiling giving the place a very ethereal feel.

Kelzt rubbed his hands together as he looked around the room.

“We got here just in time,” he said. “Narbondel has only just died and that means the artists will be coming down soon.”

Dinin cocked an eyebrow.

“Artists?” He tried not to roll his eyes. “Why are they called artists?”

Masryn snorted.

“Why do you think? They are trained in the arts of sexual pleasure,” the young drow emphasized the first part of the word for effect, waggling his white brows up and down.

Dinin ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair anxiously. He needed another drink.

His hopes were soon answered as the dwarven woman returned with three glasses and a large bottle of sul-paga.

The crisp, distilled scent of the alcohol pricked the hairs up on the back of his neck as he watched Kelzt pour the clear liquid into his cup.

Masryn drank his own glass deeply, scrunching his face up. Dinin had only drank wine when he lived in House Do’Urden and he tried desperately not to make a face as the sul-paga burned his throat on the way down.

Sputtering, he wiped a gloved hand across his lips.

Kelzt watched the two younger drow, mirth shining in his dark red eyes as he casually sipped his own drink.

“Ah, youth rushes into everything – sul paga is to sip lads, it is made of the finest sul roots this side of the Underdark.”

The music took a frantic toll as the singer began the first verses of the beginning of Tornan’s Guts – a common song in Menzoberrazan though Dinin was not familiar with the words.

Chants and hymns to Lloth were all he knew of music. He found his foot tapping to the rhythm of the vahzan-do while a table next to them burst out singing loudly and offkey.

O’ Tornan was a great warrior indeed

The greatest warrior did Menzoberranzan ever see

A bell rang out above the singing, Dinin followed Masryn and Kelzt’s gaze at it shifted towards a staircase at the back of the room.

He took another swig of sul-paga as he watched silk-clad figures make their way down the stairs and mingle with the tables.

Much to Dinin’s dismay, his scowl did not in fact keep the whores away.

A surface elf slave with long red hair twined her way over to their table and sat down beside Masryn.

The last time he had been this close to a surface elf, he had inadvertently witnessed his family’s doom as his brother failed to please Lloth by killing one.

She spoke Undercommon quite well, he supposed, but he could not bring himself to find her attractive.

Masryn however had fallen under the enchantment of her tinkling laughter. She clutched a glass of dark liquor in one hand and used the other to brush away a strand of hair from the younger drow’s face.

“I personally don’t understand the appeal,” said Kelzt, watching the surface elf lead Masryn from the table. “Our young friend however appears to have a liking for pale flesh albeit a sadistic pleasure – here, anything goes as long as you don’t mark their faces.

It’s a pleasure house yes but it’s also a place where men are freely allowed to take out any emotion on a female.”

Dinin scoffed, “Surface females don’t matter.”

“Aye but it’s not just surface females here – there are drow ones as well, low-cast but drow,” Kelzt replied. “Master Dro pays a pretty penny to the council to keep the place in operation.”

The older drow explained how he thought the Matron Mother’s figured if there was a place the common guards could blow off steam it would make them more pliable.

“I’ve heard from our weapons master himself that Matron of Darketh pays the tab here for us idiots to keep us in line,” he continued. “If keeping me in line means all the paga and ale I can drink and a warm place to lay my cock then I’m all for it.”

“I could think of worse things I suppose,” Dinin swirled the clear liquid in his glass pensively. He watched a human female take off her top across the room with mild interest. Peals of laughter rang out from behind their table as a slender male drow clothed in a silk robe poured wine down a guard’s throat.

“It appears they cater to all tastes here,” He shifted in his seat to face Kelzt again. The alcohol was making his face warm or was it the atmosphere which was becoming slowly more debaucherous.

Kelzt nodded his head and took another drink.

He stole a priestess’s virginity

The scandalous line of Tornan’s Guts rang out above the din. Some of the crowd cheered and Dinin glanced over his shoulder, fearing the sting of a snake-headed whip.

Feeling none, the tension in his shoulders released. Old habits died hard.

For this Lloth could not forget

Tornan would have to pay his debt

She put a toll upon his soul

Kelzt had begun to sing along, periodically punching the air with the hand holding his glass, grinning.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Dinin’s lip as he watched the merrymaking a scene quite unfamiliar to him.

“Don’t you find it kind of funny that we’re singing a song about a man who was killed for defiling a woman at a place where men come to defile women?” Dinin asked, raising his voice over the chaos.

Kelzt laughed.

“The irony is not lost on me, young one.”

Suddenly a young male slid in between the two of them.

“Why Kelzt, I thought you had forgotten me,” the newcomer’s voice was smooth. His head was shaved on either side leaving a disheveled white strip of hair – black orbs for eyes that glittered in the candlelight of the table.

Dinin begrudgingly shifted to make room for Kelzt’s friend. The boy had a pleasing enough face and a cocky air about him.

“Ah, Naxir, how could I forget about you, you bring an old warrior so much joy,” Kelzt slid his arm around the younger drow.

“Such sweet words,” Naxir laughed and turned to fix Dinin in his stare. “Hello, who is this treat? Will he be joining us this evening?”

Kelzt laughed and shook his head while Dinin felt his cheeks burn. It had been sometime since he had indulged in the carnal pleasures of flesh and while Naxir was attractive, the thought of seeing the older soldier rutting didn’t interest him at all.

“I think I’ll pass this time,” he poured himself another drink and let his gaze wander as he halfheartedly listened to the old warrior flirt with the handsome young drow.

Tornan’s Guts had ended, and the bard seemed to be taking the crowd in the direction of a sensual macabre tune.

A familiar laugh rang out and Dinin noticed Taztar, the patrol leader of his squad, sitting two tables to the side of them with some other guards from House Darketh.

A slender figure in a short, flowing red dress was gyrating before them, unbound hair illuminated by faerie fire.

“Come closer, girl,” he heard Taztar growl and watched as the girl obeyed. Her skin was not as dark as Dinin’s and as she moved closer to the candlelit table, he could tell her hair was a dark silvery colour.

Suddenly one of the guards’ arms shot out and poured a mug of ale over her head. “Get out of here half-breed, you can tell Dro that I want the real drow tonight.”

Laughter exploded from the table as Taztar said, “We all want a real drow tonight lads.”

Dinin watched intently as the girl’s hand clenched at her side, the shocked look on her face quickly replaced by anger and she swung her fist, a soft thud as it connected with the guard’s face. Just as quickly as it happened, Taztar reached out and grabbed the girls arm and pulled her in roughly.

He couldn’t make out what the patrol leader said before shoving the girl backwards.

Impressed, he watched as she strode toward his table, delicate brows furrowed as she fought to keep a smile on her face.

As she passed, he found himself drawn to her – her delicate features belaying the scowl she was trying not to show.

He watched her enter a door near the back and come back out again with a white-haired female drow. They parted and for a moment he watched the new girl saunter over to Taztar’s table.

It was then he realized that Kelzt and his friend had left him alone. At least they had left him the bottle, but he cursed as he went to pour himself a drink.

What in the hells was he going to do now, wait for them to finish rutting?

Sipping his drink, he glanced about for the girl with the dark hair again when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He was mortified to see it was her.

“You’re staring at me.” Her voice was terse. “Do you see something that you like?”

Her arms were crossed causing the curves of her breast to peek up from the low cut of her dress.

“Yes – I mean, no, I’m not here to …” His words caught on his tongue as she glared at him.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what they all say at first.”

“Well, I can guarantee you that I’m not like they,” he said. “And I’m not here looking for sex.”

“Let me guess, you probably have no problem picking up women – or men, whichever you prefer,” the girl sat down beside him and propped her cheek up with her hand.

Her eyes swept him up and down, assessing him. He leaned back in his seat fixing her with his own cool stare.

“Whichever I prefer depends on many things – why did you punch that guard, surely you’re lucky to not be injured,” he asked, truly curious.

To his surprise, she laughed, a strange melodic chuckle that made him want to laugh with her though he knew not why – probably the blasted sul-paga Kelzt had fed him.

Still he poured himself and the girl a glass.

“Hrazzra is an idiot, he comes here every tenday, my master hates him, but he likes Taztar’s money,” the girl paused, accepting the glass of liquor. “Besides, Taztar will make me pay for it later but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.

“The trick is to make yourself numb and you don’t feel anything anymore.”

She emptied the glass with one smooth gulp without making a face. Dinin followed suit but was unable to keep the look of disgust off his face over the taste of the alcohol.

The girl laughed again.

“I prefer the taste of mushroom wine if I’m being perfectly honest,” he chuckled. “This stuff tastes like how the cleaners smell.”

“Mushroom wine – you have rich tastes for a common soldier.”

The alcohol had loosened his guard and he cursed himself inwardly.

“I have only been so fortunate that my former master would allow me wine after a victory in the slave pits of Graklestugh,” he attempted damage control, and briefly explained his backstory to the girl who watched his eyes intently as he told of how he was fortunate to be sold to House Darketh of Menzoberranzan.

“Well, former melee master of Gracklestugh, I bet I can find us some mushroom wine, stay where you are.”

The music remained at a mournful pace as she picked her way through the crowd towards the bar where the older dwarven lady polished the too-smooth slate.

It had been hours since Narbondel died and the number of patrons in the bar seemed to be getting less and less.

Dinin looked over to see that another surface elf had joined the white-haired drow girl at the patrol leader’s table. Only Taztar and two other soldiers remained and were tossing coins at the girls as they writhed on one another atop the stalagmite table.

“Noril and Alunira are very beautiful aren’t they,” Dinin almost jumped as the girl whispered in his ear, sitting back down beside him.

He turned to look at her and noticed she was grinning holding two large bottles of mushroom wine.

“I don’t have any fancy glasses, ussta zhennu sargitlan, but this is not a fancy place, we could drink it right from the bottle if we wished.” To emphasize her point, she uncorked a bottle and drank deeply, a little drip of liquid glowed green as it spilled from the corner of her lips.

He tried to hide the grin as she playfully called him my great warrior in high drow. For a slave, she was brazen and he found he liked talking to her.

“High drow, that’s an awfully rich language for a common slave,” he said, taking a swig of the wine, feeling almost sacrilegious drinking it straight from the bottle.

Her laugh was infectious as she snagged the bottle back from him, raising her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side.

She brought the tip of the bottle playfully to her lips before drinking then leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Maybe we both have … secrets,” her lips grazed his earlobe as she pulled away and offered him the wine coyly.

Flustered but intrigued, he changed the topic to mushroom wine and how it wasn’t as noble a drink as one might think as it was fermented from the most common fungi but as he was trying to cover up that the wine was made from mushrooms that had never seen any form of light, it was a highly arduous process, and she was nodding as if she believed him even though her eyes told him she didn’t, Taztar stumbled over to their table.

His breath reeked of ale.

“Ah, Dinyrr, I never expected to see you here – I didn’t know the house paid for slave soldiers to drink and fuck,” he slurred as he stood over them. “I see you’ve met my girl – Tavari – she may be a half-bred but she’s quite beautiful to look at.”

He gruffly grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her gaze steeled over.

“Yes patrol leader, she’s quite nice,” Dinin forced himself to play his part, as this common man’s lesser when he could easily slice out Taztar’s tongue and present it to Jarlaxle.

“Indeed she is and I think she’s quite done talking with you – it’s time for her to repay her folly in punching Hrazzra, don’t you think?

"We’ll take that extra bottle of mushroom wine as well, Tavari will need the extra help tonight.”

He made a show of knocking over the almost empty bottle they had been sharing. Dinin ground his teeth.

“Come girl,” he wrenched her up from her seat. Her face paled in the candlelight, she looked disheartened.

Suddenly, Dinin rose from his seat and grabbed Taztar by the shoulder.

“The girl stays with me,” he said, the alcohol he consumed wouldn’t allow the slight of this mere man – this third patrol leader of the 35th house of Menzoberranzan taking away his enjoyment.

The bard, whose interest had been piqued by the exchange began to play a new tune he had been commissioned to write. A song that would surely get the males blood up as it told the tale of the destruction of a noble house.

The fall of House Do’Urden.

Taztar laughed and shrugged off Dinin’s hand.

“I’ll have you killed,” he sneered, not letting go of the girl’s wrist.

As the singer began to sing of Lloth forsaking a once ancient and noble house, Dinin noticed the words of the song, speaking of Zin-Carla, Malice’s folly and a wayward son.

“The girl is with me tonight,” he growled., stepping in front of of the solider.

“Are you stupid? Did you hear what I said – I’ll have you killed and if not, the weapons master will have you sacrificed to Lloth for breaking the chain of command,” Taztar replied, dropping the girl’s hand and clenching his own into a fist.

Their faces were inches from each other, Dinin breathed heavily, egged on by the song.

“You’re nothing – you worthless,” Taztar’s slew of insults were cut short by the crack of Dinin’s fist against his jaw.

The thicker drow swung back catching Dinin in the lip, splitting it open. He tried to grab Dinin but the former master of melee magthere’s reflexes were quick as he swept to the side. He wasn’t a fist fighter as some were but his swift blows fueled by alcohol and rage were enough to fell the shorter drow to the ground.

The bard remained impassive and kept singing. Those left sitting around the tables cheered and promptly resumed drinking.  Dinin’s heart was pounding. How dare there be a song about the fall of Do’Urden. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. He had potentially blown his cover for his mission. What would Jarlaxle do to him? He opened his eyes to see the girl, whose name was Tavari, stand up from kneeling over the prone form of Taztar. Her fingertips looked for a second as if they had glowed.

“Come with me,” she said, picking up the bottle of wine from the ground.

She grabbed his hand, he jolted back to reality at the physical touch.

“Taztar won’t remember anything,” she assured him as she led him up the stairs. “But, let’s get out of here before Master Dro sees him on the floor.”

“You really knocked him out,” the girl giggled as she led him past rooms filled with moans. He followed her down a dark windowless hallway, lit sporadically by candles.

She opened the door to the last room on the left, lit a candle – did she use a match? Dinin wasn’t sure. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and the alcohol was beginning to make him feel a little nauseous.

“Thank you for what you did back there, by the way, Taztar is awful, I hate him,” she crossed her legs as she sat down on the bed.

“I can assure you from working with him that I hate him as well. He allowed half of our latest patrol to be slaughtered by hook horrors,” Dinin replied, sitting beside the girl on the thin mattress. “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves, my name is Din-in-yrrr.” He almost stumbled out his real name. “Dinyrr, it’s Dinyrr. My apologies, I don’t usually drink this much.” He was embarrassed to note that he was almost slurring his own words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Din-nin-yrr, my name is Tavari and I am always drunk,” the girl chuckled but the laugh didn’t reach her eyes.

“Just Dinyrr is fine, and you shouldn’t drink so much, it’s not good for the mind. A mind like yours is only diminished by liquor,” he sloppily scolded her.

“That’s very sweet,” she replied. “Now, you have me up here – you said I’m yours tonight, what would you wish of me?”

She began to slide off the thin red fabric that barely covered her lithe form, but Dinin stopped her muttering shhh.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “Let’s just finish this troublesome bottle of wine.”

He helped pull the dress back over her head. The girl, Tavari looked shocked then laughed, deep from her soul, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. He couldn’t help but join her – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much.

“What do you want to just talk?” She asked playfully. “I’ve never had a man nor woman ever buy me just to talk. It’s not normal.”

“I’m not normal,” he replied slurrishly, with a grin passing her back the bottle of wine.

She nodded her agreement.

“What do you want to talk about?”  She shifted closer to him, propping her cheek on her hand as she had earlier that night.

“Memories,” he replied, looking out the window, the streets of the bazaar were quiet this deep into Narbondel’s death.

“Good or bad,” she asked.

“Are there such things as good memories?” He countered, turning to look back at her again with a wry smile.

“Not really,” she shrugged.

They continued to pass the bottle back and forth, each sharing their own cryptic stories, edging towards truths they could never share with one another.

The last thing Dinin’s half-blurred vision noted as the two laid facing each other on the threadbare mattress was the colour of her eyes as Narbondel’s first light filtered through the small window.

Orange, like the flame of a candle. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33301066/chapters/84017953

#forgotten realms #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #menzoberranzan #mc: tavari #drow ocs #half drow #am writing #writer #fanfiction #tw: violence #dinin do’urden #drow #long post #trust the abyss #these two ... #be living rent free in my head

[writingsfromhome]

Collaboration

A/N: This one's told from Harry's pov. I just wanted to have some fun with dialogue, trying fluff for once (I think?)

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

The flashing lights on the red carpet bring back the headache that was pounding my temples since this morning. I grit my teeth and pose for the last show before making eye contact with my manager. I’m ushered along, a few people calling out for an interview. My manager whispers one would be good for image so I sigh and find myself in one of those millenial gossip journalists.

She asks what I’m wearing, I show off the shimmery fabric of my pantsuit and the fringe on the legs.

“So we heard rumours, Y/N Y/L/N and you are working on an album together?”

I lean in and pretend to look intrigued but my heart picks up speed just from hearing her name. “Who said that?”

The journalist plays her part and laughs at my joke. I say seriously, “I would love to collab with her anytime, she’s a legend. But I haven't even got her digits."

She says something sympathetic, "maybe things will change tonight."

"I hope so! I'm even wearing my liucky ring," I show it off to the camera. Finally the bit is over and I walk into the cool building. People are already breaking into groups and lost guests look for their name.

I knew I would see Y/N today, it was always a mystery whether she would show up to these award shows. She started young in the industry, a child-actor turned singer when she released a single to a movie she starred in as a teen and it stayed in the top charts for months. She was pretty private as far as celebrities went and she didn't always show up to these things. But the couple times I interacted with her we had hit it off. The first was just a casual acquaintance when our mutual friend introduced each other at a premiere.

The second, though, was at a restaurant. The people I was having dinner with invited her party to our table. She had ended up squished beside me but we talked the whole night. We thought alike and turned out she was a big fan of my music, had even attended my concert, proven by some photos she showed me on her phone. I confessed I had a big crush on her in her earlier movies when I was a kid. She teased me and I let her. But we forgot to exchange numbers so I didn't actually talk to her after that. If we had, I would definitely ask her about collaborating.

"Just had to ask Jen, here." My manager comes by with a bottle of water and the painkiller in my hand. I take it gratefully and then he pushes me to my seat. I glance around, a couple familiar names. But mostly it seemed like I was seated with couples. To be the 7th wheel. And my chair had its back to the stage. Whoever planned this did not like me.

The lead up to the start of the awards is a rush of hugs and catching up with people. It isn't until I sit down, my chair turned to face the stage, that I realise Y/N is here and sitting a table down, her chair angled to the stage but she catches my eye.

I can't help the smile that overtakes my face but I manage to resist waving at her like a child. She gives me a nod but her lips tug up into a shy smile as she focuses her eyes on the stage.

We get introductions, a skit, and a performance. They announce some winners and then they announce the surprise performance by Y/N. I hadn't even realised she'd left.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the stage blacking out until a single light shines. Y/N steps under it and begins, it starts off slow but by the chorus there are dancers and an old school car and a gown with fake blood as she sits atop the car with the dagger sticking out of her chest as she belts out her song. The final notes ring out when she pulls the dagger free and it clatters to the floor. And the entire audience goes crazy. I'm standing clapping and grinning like an idiot. Y/N makes eye contact with me and winks. People turn in my direction but I don't make it obvious it was me. I didn't want any rumours about us.

As the night moves forward, I catch eyes with Y/N a few times. The first time I raise my eyebrows and mimick pulling a dagger out of my chest. She hides her smile behind the pamphlet. The second time she catches me staring at her, she pretends to look annoyed and I pretend to hide my face with my hand. When I check her face she's trying to hide her laugh. Someone behind her leans in to whisper something but she keeps her eyes on me.

I feel like I'm on cloud 9. Not only did I finally see Y/N after so long but she remembered me. And I think she was flirting with me! Maybe she would show up to the after party.

During the break, she motions to the meet her in the foyer and I don't even wait a few minutes. I'm right behind her and follow her into a little enclosure off to the side.

"Hi," I say casually.

"Hi," she smiles. "Long time no see. I like what you're wearing."

"Thanks. You look lovely yourself. I wasn't sure I would see you tonight."

"It's been a while since I've been plucked and prodded and red-carpet ready. A girl misses the feeling of flashing lights and ten reporters asking what you're wearing." She flips her hair over her shoulder, sarcasm in full effect.

"Sounds like you need a drink," I suggest.

"God, yes." She grabs my arm and I lead her to the bar, she leans in next to me as I order for us.

I watch as she takes a sip of the drink I ordered for her. She looks surprised and takes another sip. It settles in even more how normal this felt. And my childhood crush never really went away.

"You should order for me more often. I usually just stick to what I know." She comments.

"Then you should go out with me more often," I say.

She responds by clinking her glass against mine, a mischevious look in her eye.

"What's that look?" I ask.

"What look?"

"The one you're giving me right now!"

"I'm just looking at you!"

"Then what are you thinking? Because you're not just looking at me! You're giving me the look!"

"The look," she scoffs like I was making it up.

"It's there," I tap her temples. "What are you thinking in there?"

"I really don't think you want to know what I'm thinking," she says into her drink.

"No, now I really want to know," I wait for her to move the glass away from her mouth.

"No you don't. It's...not very appropriate." She doesn't look me in the eyes, pretending to be interested on what the little menus read.

"Inappropriate thoughts are my favourite," I say. She looks up and is about to say something.

"Harry!" Someone calls from the side and I'm disappointed that the conversation is cut short. I wanted to know even though I already knew but I greet some friends instead. when I turn backY/N's gone. Damn.

I find her back in her seat but she's talking to a few women I remember she was in movies with in her early days. But it's like she senses me because she turns to look as I sit down. I narrow my eyes at her, she looks away.

When I win for single of the year, I stumble onto stage. I was sure I wouldn't win this. Luckily my manager had made me practice something on the way here just in case but every word leaves my brain when I glance at Y/N and she has the same expression from earlier. I knew she was thinking something inappropriate and that just clears my head of anything except her.

"Sorry I've got some stage fright it seems," I joke and everyone laughs. Phew.

I manage to get some words out, give my thanks and walk back to my table in a daze. People congratulate me but I barely know who. This was a dream come true for me, and nearby a very dreamy woman was giving me eyes and I didn't know how this night could get any more surreal.

But it does.

***

By the time I get ready to leave for the afterparty, I'd waited for inscribing and more congrats, some pictures and group pictures of winners. I'm tired and stop by my hotel to change into something more casual. I didn't see Y/N and I give up hope that I would. Her going to an awards show and an afterparty were rare. She must have disappeared again, without leaving her number. I would just have to wait for a next time.

But when I get to my hotel door, a figure sits outside it.

"Hello?" I call from afar, if this was a fan that somehow got in there was going to be a security issue. But the person looks up and it's just Y/N. Her glam from earlier is wiped off, she has on just tights and a tanktop. She quickly stands up.

"I didn't see you at the party. Wasn't much in the mood to mingle. I thought I would try your room."

"How did you know my room?" I ask as I open the door and leave it open for her.

"I'm a floor above, I saw you leave."

"So you're stalking me now?" I ask.

"If I remember correctly you were the one watching me all night."

"Really?" I drop my things on the floor and dig through the drawer for a shirt and jeans. "If I remember, you were the one with inappropriate thoughts."

"I never said that," she says as she picks up the award I put on the table. "Congratulations by the way. You totally deserve this like I told you!"

Y/N references part of the conversation we had at that dinner. When she revealed she was a fan, said she was in the industry for years and she saw I had promise.

"And that compliment kept me going through the whole album." It was true, she gave me a boost of confidence that helped keep me focused and crank it out in time.

"So where's my shoutout?" She sits on the desk, her feet swinging back and forth.

"Third song on the album," I say smoothly.

"Really?" She stares. The song was about a mystery woman just being the girl next door. Exactly how I felt about Y/N. "You wrote a song about me? Wow. Not even my exes have given me the honour."

"You deserve a million songs written about you," I say truthfully. Y/N was a special woman-misunderstood and misinterpreted. But she was a powerful singer and a funny, honest, and kind human.

"You're a sweet-talker Harry Styles." Y/N leans back and I can't avoid the way the fabric of her tanktop stretches over her body. She notices and smirks. "It's unfortunate you're just all talk though."

"All talk?" I decide two can play at the game. I take off my silk shirt and wait a few before slipping on my tshirt. I notice her eyes trailing down my body and it gives me the confirmation to step towards her. I put my hands on her thighs, and she parts her legs automatically. I step in between them but stay inches away from her face, "I do more than just talk."

"So show me," she says, her gaze going down to my lips.

"Only if you tell me what you were thinking tonight," I challenge.

"You're still on that?"

"I want to know."

"How about I show you instead."

In a surprising move, she pushes me back and stands up before shoving me onto the bed. It takes me a moment to recover but I'm smiling as the whole Y/N finally comes out of her shell. She peels the tanktop off of her and walks towards me. I lean back on my elbows.

"I wish you showed me earlier," I say. She shuts me up with a passionate kiss.

***

I'd lost track of time, the rising sun the only tell of how much time had passed. Y/N lies on the pillow beside me, her face peaceful as she sleeps. Her hand is loosely intertwined through mine between us. It was a wild night collaborating after all-just not in a way we wanted share. I almost want to pinch myself to be sure this was real. The woman of my dreams with me tonight. Several times over. Asleep as the first rays of sun leave a soft glow on her skin. She was as beautiful as ever.

I must have fallen asleep too because I wake up with a pressure on my chest. I'm flat on my back and Y/N's head is resting on my chest as she stares at my face.

"I can see up your nose," she comments.

"Stop looking," I mumble in my croaky morning voice.

"I can't stop. It's just so dark and unexplored."

I close my eyes again, not realising she'd taken my finger to stick up my nose until she does. I sit up and she's thrown off of me. I sneeze once, and again. And turn to her.

"I don't like that loo-" she shouts as I pull her to me and hold her down to climb over her. I sneeze again as she wriggles underneath but pretty soon she stops as I kiss her.

"You're lucky I'm so nice," I say into her neck as I kiss her. "Or you would be in a lot more trouble."

"You are not nice," she giggles. "You didn't let me explore up your nos-okay okay!"

She cuts off as I tickle her sides, crying out to stop, saying she can't breathe. "I'll show you not nice," I tell her. I hold her hands above her head and pin it there before I kiss her down her body. She tries to free my grip but I hold on, using my other hand to move lower than my mouth could.

"You wouldn't," she looks me in the eye as I kiss her again.

"Well I'm not very nice," I whisper and watch her squirm underneath me. I finally let go of her hands and she pulls me to her to grip, rolling me over when I'm done so she's on top.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Styles." She tells me while I laugh at how flushed she'd gotten but I quiet when she pulls my arms up like I did to her and somehow finds the robe tie from the floor to tie them in place. "I'm not very nice either."

"Well who said I like nice girls?" I ask her. She only smiles before pulling the blanket over our heads and making sure she tortures me in the best possible way.

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