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lov-eable · 1 year

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TELL ME ֗ ˖ ࣪ ᩠ ༉‧₊˚ ✿ #01

━━ a filmmaker decides to follow and document the lives of the worst and best students at your school for a month, unfortunately, those students are you and chishiya, the most annoying guy on earth.

masterlist ◌*ꕤ

word count ✦ 1726

A/N: lets not question why the best student is allowed to have dyed long hair, idk either!!!! also kyuma cameo, i just needed someone as the filmmaker so hes kinda ooc take that in mind U_U hope u like it!

05/28/18 12:38

Why did the principal reach out to you to meet him at his office? Were you in trouble? Did he finally decide to expel you because of your scores? No, it couldn’t be, everyone knows that type of thing only happens in American movies, so, why were you waiting there and nervously avoiding eye contact? Also, a weird guy -he was wearing a cap indoors and that was enough for you to consider him weird-, who undoubtedly was not a teacher, even less a student was awkwardly standing in the corner of the room. You prayed for a word, just a single word, that could break the tense silence. As if your prayers had been heard for the very first time in your whole life, the awkward guy with the cap crouched down to whisper something in the director’s ear and as he vaguely nodded, the principal eventually spoke.

“Miss Kano, I have summoned you to propose and discuss an extracurricular activity involving you and one of your classmates” classmate? Who was he talking about? You started getting more curious, letting go of your previous anxieties, maybe this proposal could be fun, right? As long as they didn't force you to study maths for two hours every day after school, it would be pleasant. You heard the strange man clear his throat and you prepared yourself to finally hear him talk, he made you more curious than creeped out. “It seems your, uh, friend may take his time to arrive yet” so your so-called classmate was a guy, your options to guess decreased, “allow me to introduce myself, I’m Kyuma Ginji, filmmaker and the director of this new project”.

Someone knocked on the door softly, so softly it could almost have been ignored if the people in the room weren’t so expectant of the arrival of the fourth member and the principal barely said a word allowing the newcomer to enter the room. Just like that, all your expectations, interest and curiosity died right there without an opportunity to meet the real world. The one classmate who could disturb your day with only his presence set foot into the office and sat in the chair next to you. “Good morning, I’m sorry about the delay, I was taking care of a homework-related matter with Mister Kuzuryu” you tried not to look at him but even his voice annoyed you.

Mr. Kyuma brushed it off and resumed his self-introduction, “now that you both are here, I will explain you my project. Basically, my crew and I want to portray the lives of the senior students with the best and worst grades respectively, and see how you interact with each other for a month” no, simply no, there was no way you would interact with Chishiya for a whole month in front of cameras, not even if a gun was pointed at your head, “if you both agree, we’ll sign a contract and start shooting the first day of June, that way we’ll end at the start of July without disrupting your midterm exams. Please let me know what you think”.

“I think I’ll pass…” “Sir, are we going to get paid?” that rude cat-face with toilet paper-coloured hair dared to cut you off. Who did he think he was? Sometimes, you said to yourself it was nonsense to dislike him with so much energy, and maybe you could start over. You wouldn’t dare to befriend him, but you could finally leave each other alone, but with moments like this, you realized that would never happen. “Yes, of course, all of that information is in more detail in the contract, would you like to see it?” Mr. Kyuma said as he quickly, and really clumsily, directed himself towards his briefcase taking out a portfolio which, you assumed, stored your contracts.

He handed you each a piece of paper which contained all the clauses and conditions, you started reading it but reminded yourself you weren’t interested, if you accepted, you would work closely with Chishiya for a whole freaking month. “Uh, sorry, as I was saying…” “It’s okay, I’ll join the documental” and again, see? This was the reason why you would never work willingly with Chishiya, also, it was odd of Chishiya to accept something like this. No matter how much you disliked him, you couldn’t deny you knew him very well, at the end of the day, you essentially watched him grow. And this wasn’t usual for him. You noticed everyone seeing you expecting an answer, Chishiya smirked at you irritating your insides, “Miss Kano, we only need you to agree and we’ll sign the contracts tomorrow, then start filming as scheduled” oh no, there it was, the pressure.

It puzzled you why Chishiya agreed to this, the truth is, he had two big reasons; first, he would get paid and the amount was not low, and second, he heard you trying to deny the offer so he figured out that by agreeing, he would have the opportunity to bother you and see that annoyed face of yours that pleased him so much. If we are being honest, it puzzled him as much as you, if not more, why he got so much satisfaction by being around you and pushing your buttons, but the answer was something he deep inside knew he wouldn’t like to acknowledge.

Oh, you were aware there was no way out. Chishiya was already on board and the producer looked at you with puppy-like eyes, anticipating your positive answer. You knew you didn’t owe him anything, but still, he seemed young and hopeful. Even to the untrained eye, it was evident this was his first project. “Uh, why not? But I would like to mention this to my parents first” you talked with hesitation, contemplating the slightest chance your parents would disapprove of their youngest daughter appearing on a documentary showing off her awful grades.

Certainly, your parents weren’t against it, they didn’t even bat an eye, as per usual, they didn’t care about your life while you weren’t out there doing drugs -you weren’t sure about that testament either-. “Could you hand me the salad? Thanks. Yeah, your teacher, or was it your principal? Not so sure, but I got a call, they explained everything. You can participate, honey, it’s not like you’re going to get distracted from your studies or anything” your mom chuckled as if what she had said just recently was funny, but no one else at the table was laughing. Family dinners were always the same, your parents making passive-aggressive comments towards you, maybe praise your sister once or twice and silence. Not awkward, nor comfortable either, just plain silence.

“Mom, I’m not going to join the project” as you said, your parents released a “why?!” into the air in unison. You barely muttered “because I don’t want to” when your dad replied in a demanding tone, “that’s not a valid answer. You never want to do anything. If you do it, you’ll have money and at least one thing to write in your resume” of course the one time you needed your parents to mind their business as they always did was the time they decided to involve themselves into your life. “The man I spoke to earlier mentioned you and Shuntaro Chishiya, if I’m not mistaken, would be filmed. He is Dr. Chishiya’s son, right? He’s the best student, you could use some of his knowledge”.

That was it, you couldn’t stand Chishiya, you couldn’t stand your family, you were at your limit. You stuffed your mouth with the remaining food on your plate and stood up without saying a word, you heard your parents calling your name, but it did not matter to you at the moment. Taking the book you borrowed from the school library and laying in your bed, you found your desired peace, or so you believed until you heard a door knock. You didn’t answer in the case that would make whoever knocked on your door go away.

It didn’t, instead, a rather familiar face appeared as they opened your door. “Forgot to lock it” Mira grinned at you, “what do you want?” you said while covering your face with the book you were reading at the moment -The Silent Cry by Kenzaburo Oe-. “Can I come in?” you did not use your energy to say no because your sister would ignore you and enter your room whether you like it or not.

She sat next to you in your bed, “I think you shouldn’t deny the film offer”, “are you joining them in this nonsense? Traitor…” you moved yourself to face the wall because you were actually hurt she was taking your parents’ side instead of yours. “It’s a really good opportunity, I don’t think you should miss it, also, why you don’t want to do it? Even though my parents think you are lazy, I know you’re down to try everything at least once”.

“Why are you being so nosy? It’s not like it matters to you or something” you faced her again and stood right up to be at her height. “You are right, it does not matter to me, but clearly does to you, that’s why it’s bothering you so much and you don’t want to say the reason why. Whatever, my opinion shouldn’t be important, but I do think you should do it. You’ll get paid, maybe you could show off some of your poetry, you know, and mom and dad would love to see you” Mira stood up as she talked and was about to disappear through the door that connected your room to the hall but she stopped when you called her name.

There was a simple phrase you knew you had to say, different from what Mira would have liked to hear, but you didn’t say any of those. “You’re too good with words, you’re like a congressman” your sister laughed leaning against the door, “oh, god, I wish I was a congressman, do you know how much they get paid a year?” a sweet moment of giggles and then, a comfortable silence between you and her settled in the room, “anyways, I have to study, think about what I told you. Good luck with your book”

tag list: @surshica @enslique @httpsimmy @elernity @eshtravagent @fishisahappydog @kreishin @vernon-dursley @mhyunri

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #aib x reader #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya x fem!reader #aib chishiya #୨୧ . . . tell me #l❤︎veable

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talesfromsiteredacted · 11 months

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Revenge of the Clef

So... in leiing my Sugarbeard, I should have anticipated payback. It happened just a few minutes ago on the night shift.

I clock in for my night shift in my new office. It's kinda lonely without Trixie in reception, but... Dr. Glass is still here, I see. As I pass by, I notice there's two voices: Dr. Glass, and Dr. King. Another attack of the apple seeds, poor guy. Sometimes I think Dr. Glass deserves hazard pay, or at least double overtime. Not wanting to pry, I head to my desk. I've got mounds of requests and reports to slog through. Thank 343 for insomnia, in a way. I think trying to get my overactive brain to shut down for the night is the only reason I'm rarely too far behind on the dreaded stupid paperwork. It sure ain't as interesting as people expect.

I tackle the reports of the initial phase of the Anomalous Enrichment Protocol. Hand Drawn Cassie had a blast surfing in Oahu, especially with her surf buddy the dolphin. Turns out, 049 was joking about the game, he just wanted someone to hang out with for a bit. For a surgeon and medical professional, he's horrible at Operation, was kinda fun playing with him. Next week, I teach him Magic: the Gathering. Before long, I'm onto the requests.

No. No. Gods in multiple heavens, hells, and anyplace between, NO. No way are we allowing him that, bad enough he's still mostly homicidal. No. Fucking. Way. The Old Man is never getting online again, let alone on Twitch. I missed the Yahoo!Chat Incident, but it's not happening on my watch. Denied, with extreme prejudice. Next!

I reach for the pile on the right, and notice my right wrist has sprouted a new accessory: a garland of blue and white silk hibiscus. I laugh, only to realize there's two people sniggering with me. They're very obviously behind the open door of the supply closet directly across from my desk. I act like I hadn't noticed anything, turn back to work. I catch my sister slinking out, big grin on her face. Ah. There it is. The Cleffening. Was wondering when he'd get me back. Five minutes later, the closet speaks.

"Hey, Director Snow, what's an anomaly gotta do to get some enrichment around here?"

"For starters, stop lurking in closets like a even creepier white guy version of R. Kelly. Second, mysterious voice in the closet, my ears are here to bend, so come out, bend away." I resisted the temptation to look, instead focusing on my work.

"But, how do you know I can come out of the closet?"

"It's the SCP Foundation, we have people come out of almost anything except 3008, the Stairwell, and 682's stomach all the time. Plus, you gotta eat sometime, not to mention sleep and bathroom breaks. Closet seems small too. There's a nice comfy chair here, bet it beats sitting on a box of copy paper."

"What if I told you I have a surprise in here with me?"

"What if I told you my dad told me never trust the voice in the closet?" I sigh, pinch my nose. "I know it's you in there, Sugarbeard. No one sniggers like Alto Clef."

He's beside my desk before I know it, holding a box. He's got his usual "I've got something plotted but I'll be damned if I tell you what" grin on his face. O-okay, white box, blue ribbon, about a foot cubed. I untie the ribbon, take the lid off the box, rustle some red tissue paper, and pull out... a stuffed rabbit, white fur in a blue robe with snowflakes all over in silver embroidery. There's a note around its neck.

"Will you be my Snowbunny?" I read. I take a moment to think about it. "Hmm. Okay, but only if you'll be my Honeybunny."

"But... I like being your Sugarbeard." He wraps his arms around me. He brings his lips to my ear, slips the lei from my wrist. "May I, Snowbunny?" Suddenly, I'm nervous. Dunno why, this isn't the first time he's been this close. Maybe it's just the prank.

"As.. as you wish, Sugarbeard." He drapes the flowery accessory over my head, brushes back my hair. He leans in, stares into my eyes. That's... weird, even for him. All three are golden hazel, tinged slightly green in the edges of his irises. Before I can even think, his hand finds my cheek.

"Come sweeten up your Sugarbeard, Honeybunny." We're so focused on each other, we didn't notice Dr. Cimmerian walk in.

"Well, I WAS going to see if Rabbit wanted to try my sister's cannoli with me, but after seeing that I've lost my appetite. Take the cannoli, but then I'm headed to Amnestics to see if I can leave the image." He leaves. Just like that, the moment is over. But... I did get a promise to resume after my shift.

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #dr clef #agent rabbit #dr cimmerian #flirtus interruptus

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bbcstdb · 28 days

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What's funny is that yesterday, I was brainstorming a parody movie to the planet of the apes. The movie was about reverse racism and sexism. Where pure straight white people were the slave race. Only the empathetic and non bigoted, intelligent, white people were a part of the majority and got to experiment on their own. The way it worked was the rapture was real, and only the most bigoted, racist, sexist, homophobic and transphobic were raised up in a beam of light by God. Who picked them specifically for their superior idiocy and lack of humanity. Once his whole speech about how they came from dirt and will learn what it feels like to treat others like dirt they were dropped on their heads, asses, and faces just in time to be arrested by a humanity police force for their crimes against nature. For generations, they had done the worst to their fellow man and woman, making them feel like they weren't welcome in their own home, so God was punishing them by doing the same. In the first generation, there were a few token colored people and even a gay man who was also bigoted. So their strange holocaust began with mostly white rich people and their colored or gay pick me's. The one running the experiments was a native American lesbian with peculiar sexual interests that one of the main racist men sees her in while trying to escape on his own. He had the choice of bringing others, but because his team was a pick-me black guy and gay guy, he chose to go on his own, knowing there was strength in numbers because God told him so. He was caught obviously. The experimentation varied from tickling them and forcing others to watch thrying to measure empathy or feelings. To holding them with forced open eyelids to forcing them to watch boon docks and other media for minorities. Some were simple school exams of the suffering of minorities, the biggest worst nightmare to which the toughest looking Jewish nazi screamed like a little girl. Questions about zionism were his breaking point. He gets a heart attack from the panic attack (ty bojack) and is left in a coma. Where in his Dreams he is in the hell of sharing the land he bought with lesbian Muslim women, who only speak Arabic and push him around in his wheel chair to nice parks for picnics and to drink tea. He is never heard from again after his visit to the prison medic. The rich people got good at saving up their bathroom passes for the experiment (they gamble them because they are allowed to give them away and collect them as an entire block of accumulated break time) which they got three 5 minute breaks day where the main nazi escapee uses everyone one to further his new escape plan. He's been caught a few times and their punishment is forced to eat ethnic food and various strange ways to shove minority culture down their throats, literally. Music is used as torture as well, and everytime he eats anything or brushes his teeth the music plays in his head because of small chips they were injected. No one escapes. They all die and are allowed to procreate in the prison to have their racist kids taken from them to child for their own group experiment. Working that genetic malformity of superiority complexes out of the white race. More and more joining the advanced peaceful majority with each generation their offspring always look exactly like them a little mixed depending which are the parents. The main characters' offspring are forced to meet the never dying native lesbian director each time with the same reaction. They are born the get their bottom smacked without crying. As soon as the director greets them, they start crying at being held by her. She always holds them kindly and gives them encouraging words about how they are the most resilient of God's mistake and how she hopes maybe this baby will be the last of its kind. She calls them "my little snowflake."

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Love is Outside the Screen - Part III - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: The one where Reader plays Vision in the MCU and she falls in love with her co-worker Elizabeth Olsen.

Warnings: (+18), smut, sexual themes, strap on use, teasing, fingering, sexual suggestions, explicit language, explicit, obscenity, a bit of praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, bottom reader mostly, switch dynamics, power dynamic changes, slight possessive sex, brief angst, alcohol mentions, arguing, jealously, fluffy.

Words: 7.935 K

A/N> Instead of writing my series, I'm continuing works that were finished already. This is basically porn honestly haha No, but jokes aside, we have fluffy moments with a lot of smut. Good reading everyone!

Part One | Part Two | All Works Masterlist || AO3

//-//-/////-///-//

Love is Outside the Screen - Part III

Northern Ireland, two years ago.

You slipped under the long wooden table as the script indicated.

Your character was supposed to give a slight nod, and then gasp because of the torso injury, and you followed the script perfectly.

When the director yells cut, you stand up, trying not to bump into the makeover they did on your clothes.

"That was great, guys!" Shouted Alex Graves in the direction of the cast scattered around the medieval set. "Let's call it a day."

You were exhausted.

The Game of Thrones footage was absolutely grueling, and time-consuming, although it allowed you to learn something new with almost every scene.

Walking back toward the dressing room to clean up your makeup, you smiled shyly at the girls in the salon who congratulated you on the day's performance while helping you to remove your costume.

While they were going through your hair, you decided to check your cell phone.

There were two missed calls from Lizzie, and you felt your heart swell with guilt immediately.

She had also sent you messages asking if everything was okay, or if you were busy, and saying that she missed you, and you wish you had answered them all, but your routine had been completely absurd.

You felt your chest ache with longing every time you thought of your girlfriend.

When you signed the contract, you knew the conditions, and so did Lizzie. But nothing prepared you for the real thing.

Almost three months without a decent conversation, not even video calls, and the lack of her in your life was making you frustrated and irritated all the time. You were sinking into the screenplay and the recordings, because you simply hated not having Lizzie in your day-to-day life.

"Thank you girls." You said as soon as you noticed the makeup completely removed from your abdomen.

The change in the script killed your character sooner than expected, and you should go home early, even though it was going to take two or three months, it was much less than originally planned.

Grumbling softly, you went back to the dressing room, deciding to call Lizzie now that you would have a little time alone.

She doesn't answer until the second-to-last ring.

"Yes?" Her husky voice signals that she was asleep, but all you can feel is your body shaking at the sound.

"It's me, baby." You reply tenderly as you sit back in the armchair, pressing the cell phone to your ear as if you wish you could reach into the device and touch your girl.

"Oh, hey." She comments sleepily, and you wonder if she has closed her eyes again, or even opened them. "It's late."

"I know, I'm sorry." You say leaning back in the armchair. "I wanted to check that everything was okay because I couldn't answer you earlier."

"Don't worry, darling." She says softly, almost sleepily. "I just missed you."

"Me too, my love." You assure her, feeling your chest tighten slightly. My god, you just want to see her, hold her, touch her. "Lizzie, darling, are you asleep?"

"Yes." She whispers, making you smile.

"I love you baby." You say. "Call me when you wake up, I will interrupt as many scenes as it takes to talk to you."

"Behave yourself in the studio, love." She mumbles sleepily, and you laugh lightly. It was the same warning she gave on your last day in California, on the way out of the airport. "I love you. And I miss you."

You cursed the entire movie company at once when you could perceive the upset in Lizzie's tone, even in her sleepy state. You repeated that you loved her one more time before hanging up the phone.

As you put your cell phone away to grab your keys and head back to the hotel, you wondered if a breach of contract was really so bad.

//-//

Present, California.

You felt Lizzie's arms wrap around you as soon as you made mention of getting out of bed. You smiled, turning your body to look at her.

Her sleeping figure with her eyes closed, her hair slightly tousled made your heart warm with affection.

You loved her so much.

Raising your hand to her face, you stroked her cheek gently with your thumb, and watched the woman sigh softly, and even in her sleepy state, lean into your touch.

"Lizzie." You called softly, trying to wake her up. And did so again until she mumbled softly, leaning her face against the pillow. You let your hand wander to her hair, enjoying the softness as you stroked her scalp with your fingers. "We need to wake up baby."

Lizzie just mumbled again against the pillow cotton, making you smile at the cuteness of that scene.

You moved closer only to deposit short kisses across her face, and only stopped when she let out a husky giggle.

"Good morning, love." You whispered against her ear, and were about to pull away, but she tightened her arms around your waist, keeping you almost on top of her, making you smile.

"Good morning." She sighed back against the skin of your neck, and you blushed slightly when you felt her inhale your perfume and then tighten her fingers around your waist. "Fuck, I love you."

You laughed softly at her sudden, hoarse confession, but let your arms slip around her shoulders, burying your body against Lizzie's. The tenderness was wonderful, and she moved one hand up to caress your back while the other remained on your hip, her thumb moving across the skin beneath your blouse.

You tilt your face away just to look at her, and already you find her with her eyes wide open, a shy smile on her lips.

"I love you too, babe, but we need to get up." You tell her, and you almost get the impression that she's not even listening, because all she does is look at your face with adoration.

You bite back a smile as you feel her legs move beneath you, her bare foot caressing your ankle before she spins you around quickly and stands over you, the sudden movement making you sigh and tighten your arms intertwined around her neck.

"Lizzie!" You exclaim humorously, but all you get is a low murmur as she sinks her body against yours and buries her face in your neck.

"How much time do we have?" She asks against your skin, her lips dangling on that sensitive part of your collarbone and sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

"Enough." You reply already affected by her touch, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

Lizzie smiles against your neck, beginning to deposit chaste kisses against your skin, making you sigh softly.

It didn't matter how many times you had been together or for how long, your body reacted to her in the same way. You only hoped that you wouldn't be late for your appointment with the Marvel directors, but when Lizzie slipped her hand up into your pajamas, you didn't care about that anymore.

//-//-//

London, 1 year and 9 months ago.

It's your third time on "The Graham Norton Show."

You finished taping Game of Thrones the day before, and this was your last appointment before returning to California. To Lizzie.

Part of the cast is sitting next to you, and you are glad for that because you are distracted this evening and can use the time they answer questions to think about your girlfriend. And you miss her for sure.

Graham, the host, asked questions about the final season, and about day to day life on set, and after Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke commented on everything being amazing, and not telling anything about the plot since they weren't allowed to, you were slightly surprised that the subject shift went directly to the romance rumors between the cast.

"I hear that some of you have been becoming close friends outside the set." Graham begins with a chuckle, and you and the cast share a chorus of dissatisfaction that makes the audience laugh. "Which is normal in a long series of course. But we wanted to bring that in because we love gossip."

"Since I'm married, can I have a drink in the dressing room?" Kit jokes, drawing laughter from everyone.

"You're supposed to help us with the arguments". Graham replies humorously. He leans back in his chair slightly to point to the monitor behind him. "We have some behind-the-scenes photos here. And Miss Clarke looks very comfortable."

The audience laughed at the comment, and you tried to cover it up with an awkward laugh. It was a picture of Emilia Clarke, your colleague who plays Daenerys Targaryen, on your lap. But the moment was badly misinterpreted. The photo was taken right after one of the prom rehearsal scenes, and Emilia had gotten one of the coordinations wrong, and you laughed when she fell on you.

Of course, this kind of insinuation was happening because to the media, you two were two single women. And you were used to this kind of questioning, but still, it was always uncomfortable.

"We were dancing, Graham." Emilia argues humorously. "It's not what it looks like."

The audience lets out a chorus of disappointment, and you and Emilia giggle awkwardly.

"Was that the mating dance, ladies?" Graham teases and you want to dig a hole in the ground, but all you do is keep up with everyone's laughter. "Despite all the jokes, I think Marvel's couple is going to be threatened."

The comment makes your heart race, but the audience is very approving, applauding heartily.

At least with this you can talk about Elizabeth.

"Is tonight the night you are going to take over America's dream relationship or can we just keep saying that you and Emilia are together, since there is not the slightest chance that someone that attractive is single." Graham tells you with humor making the audience and cast laugh. You try to keep up, not wanting to seem rude. You wish you could tell him that there is nothing wrong with being single, but you don't think you want to create an awkwardness so you just settle back in your seat as you joke:

"Unfortunately I will deny it again, Graham" You reply. "And I'm not dating Emilia either, I assure you."

You spend the rest of the evening dodging the comments, and are exhausted by the time the interview is over.

"Hey, are you going back to the hotel already?" Kit asks you just as you walk back to the dressing rooms, and you deny it with your head.

"No chance, I'm leaving." You reply. "I'm going straight to the airport, I have a flight in two hours. What about you, Harington? Aren't you going home to see your wife?"

"I didn't know we were talking about wives." He jokes making you blush and look away. Kit didn't know about Lizzie, but he knew you had someone. "Of course I want to come home, but I still have some appointments here. And Rose is in Spain."

"That sucks, man." You comment and he murmurs in agreement, shrugging.

"Yeah, but longing sure makes the sex better." He retorts with amusement and you grimace before laughing.

"You're unbelievable." You joke before waving yourself off in farewell, turning in the direction of your dressing room.

As soon as you enter, you take your cell phone out of your pocket and try to call Lizzie, but it goes to voicemail. You leave a message saying that you can't wait to see her and get your things ready to leave.

After saying goodbye to the cast again, and taking a taxi to the airport, you receive a message, but it is not from Lizzie.

*Sara evil agent* sent you an attachment.

You frown at the matter. "Off-screen romance? Would GOT star Emilia Clarke be dating queer Marvel protégé?"

You call Sara the same minute.

"I literally said I wasn't dating her!" You complain as soon as she answers and hear Sara laugh on the other end.

"Oh, honey, I told you, the media loves a little gossip." She says. "And you need to stop setting up fake girlfriends so quickly, I can barely keep up."

You grumble in irritation and your agent lets out a giggle.

"Don't be so grumpy, it's just a rumor and the last time I checked you were a single woman so I don't see a problem." She says and you bite the inside of your cheek. Since your lack of excitement about GOT, Sara suspects something. Neither of you says anything, but you know she's not an idiot and figures you have a girlfriend. "Are you going back to LA already?"

"Yes, I'm catching my flight in an hour."

"I hope you're ready to record, Lady Vision." She jokes. "Your scene schedule is getting closer."

"I plan to rest this week." You warn, slightly distracted. "Game of Thrones really was something different."

"I just hope people like the ending."

You giggle and Sara wants to know why, but you don't give her any spoilers. After asking if everything was okay, and assuring her that you had eaten something before the interview, you hang up.

Lizzie didn't text you back and you fell asleep on the plane.

//-//-//-//-//

California, three years and eleven months ago.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

But Lizzie's hand in yours was doing a good job of calming you down.

Maybe it was just because you had waited, or maybe it was because you were so much in love, but you don't remember feeling so nervous about the idea of having sex with someone. Not since your first time.

And well, now with Lizzie, it was actually only the first time you two were going to sleep together. You didn't have to be nervous, but you were.

Liz opened the bedroom door as soon as you two reached the room, and dragged you inside with her. You closed the wood as you entered.

The tension was palpable in the air, and you wondered if you stayed still long enough, she might hear your heartbeat.

You looked at her, your eyes locked on each other, and a shy smile on your lips as you approached, stopping inches from her body.

Lizzie holds her breath.

"Are you nervous?" You ask in a husky voice, raising your free hand to go around the length of her arm with your finger, admiring the way her skin shivers at your touch.

She just shakes her head and you smile, resting your hand on her cheek.

"It's just me." You comment as you lean your forehead against hers, and you both close your eyes in anticipation. "We can stop if you're not sure..."

"I'm sure." She interrupts half breathlessly, her hand tightening its grip before letting go of yours, so that she brings both hands to the sides of your neck. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You assure before breaking the distance, bringing your mouths together in a firm kiss that draws a sigh from both of you as your hands move up to Lizzie's waist.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to deepen, your tongues fighting together and the sensation making your head spin and your body heat up.

Lizzie gasped against your mouth before parting for breath, and you used the opportunity to let your fingers run down to the hem of her shirt as you pulled it up. In motion the piece was off, and she copied the same to remove your blouse.

You bit your lip as you looked at the sight of Lizzie's exposed torso in front of you, her nipples hardening in the air making you feel the tightness beneath your stomach increase.

You lunged forward, grabbing her left breast with your mouth, and Lizzie let out a loud noise in her throat, throwing her head back as your tongue skirted her left nipple.

She was so hot and smelled so good, and the sounds she was making were driving you insane.

You moved your hands up to her breasts as soon as you brought your mouths together again, your tongue circling hers as you played with her hardened nipples, and it wasn't long before Lizzie began to whimper, closing her legs and thrusting her hips towards yours for more friction.

You smiled against her lips, you would give her exactly what she needed.

//-//

California, one year and nine months ago.

Leaving your keys on the counter, you were surprised by the silence as you entered.

It wasn't that you wanted Lizzie to stay late to wait for you, except that it was exactly what you wanted.

You left your bag on the living room floor and called her name twice before assuming she was asleep.

Sighing slightly, you went up the stairs to your room, but it was empty. All the other rooms were empty, which made you frown.

Okay, you didn't expect Elizabeth not to be home just the day you were returning, after months of not seeing each other.

But you didn't have much time to think about what might have happened, because a clearly drunk Lizzie stumbled into the house, fighting against the lock and her own balance just as you were coming down the stairs.

"You're drunk?" You ask in a voice in a mixed tone of disbelief and concern upon seeing her, and Lizzie is startled for a moment before giggling.

"Look who's here, California!" She announced to the room with irony and with open arms, stumbling inside. "Hollywood's most eligible bachelorette, watch out ladies and gentlemen."

You frowned at the little scene, Lizzie walked with difficulty to the kitchen as you finished going down the steps, she murmured quietly and you with your arms crossed, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

"What happened to you?" you ask as you follow her across the room, Lizzie takes off her shoes with difficulty, almost falling to the floor at least twice. When you make mention of helping her, she holds up her hand for you not to, and you are starting to get worried.

"I went to have fun." She replies with a humorless laugh. "I can have fun."

"Of course you can." You retorted with a raised eyebrow, watching Lizzie take a deep breath and close her eyes as she leaned her back on the countertop, probably getting a headache from the way she buried her face in both hands for a moment. "Who did you go with?"

"I don't know, Mom." She sneered wryly, and you clenched your jaw. Lizzie laughed at your expression, and pouted. "Oh, did I upset you? Sorry, darling, I'll try to be a good girl for you."

You shook your head slightly.

"Babe, what is happ..."

"Don't call me that." She cuts off quickly and you look at her in surprise. Lizzie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and when she looks at you again, she has thick tears in her eyes and you feel your heart soar. "I saw the pictures on television, Y/N. I saw the pictures, I saw your interview, I saw the videos on instagram. And I guess I understand, because she's beautiful and we haven't seen each other in months but I thought you loved me..."

"wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt, confused and frightened, and Lizzie looks like a complete mess. She is crying and you reach up to touch her face, and try to calm her down. "Babe, breathe, I don't understand."

She whimpers softly, and you wonder how much booze she really has consumed.

"You are going out with that woman and I love you and everything is horrible." She declares in a whiny voice and you look at her with a frown.

"Lizzie, what..."

But she pushes you and walks off toward the bedroom, and you try to keep her from falling over drinking at least three times until she can get up the stairs properly.

"Lizzie, wait, talk to me." You beg but she keeps walking and you enter the bedroom a moment after her, watching her walk to the closet and start throwing all her clothes out while mumbling about cheating.

You take a deep breath with your hands on your waist, letting out a humorless laugh. It was an absurd scene to say the least.

"Elizabeth Olsen, stop this immediately!" You command as soon as she steps out of the closet, and she widens her eyes slightly as she shifts the weight of her feet before veering to the floor. You sigh as you walk toward her. "Babe, look at me."

"No."

"Lizzie."

Reluctantly, she does so. You soften your expression, feeling your heart soar at the image of her face, longing invading your whole heart.

"God, I missed you." You confess half breathlessly and Lizzie looks on the verge of tears. "Darling, where did all this come from? I'm not seeing any other girl."

"I saw the pictures..."

"Lizzie." You interrupt seriously, shaking your head slightly as your hands land on her shoulders. "I have no one but you. I would never cheat on you, I don't know where that came from. I wish you hadn't drunk so much so we could have a serious talk."

Lizzie gives a mischievous little smile, her gaze half lost because of the alcohol.

"I'm not drunk." She mumbles clearly intoxicated, making you chuckle slightly.

"Of course not." You said as you pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. "You made a mess in the bedroom, babe. Why don't you try to sleep while I clean up?"

Lizzie sighed, clearly tired but shaking her head in denial

"I don't want to sleep." She said as she brought her body closer to you, her hands squeezing your shirt. "I want you to fuck me."

You bit back a smile, looking at Lizzie with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?"

She murmured in agreement, her fingers trying to open the buttons of your shirt, but she was clearly in no condition to do so.

"I'd like that too, but you're drunk." You say as you move your hands to hold hers, smiling at the grumble of frustration she lets out. "Go lie down, I'll get some water."

"But..."

"Bed, Lizzie." You ordered again as you intertwined your hands to lead her to lie down.

She was reluctant a few times but eventually agreed and lay her down on the mattress, placing the comforter on top.

When you made mention of getting up, she held your hand.

"Don't go." She asked softly with her eyes almost closed. You smiled.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

Lizzie denied and pulled your hand, you moved closer to lie beside her and she wasted no time in entwining her body in yours.

You let your fingers run through her hair and she sighed lightly, not taking long to fall asleep. You waited a few more minutes before moving, getting out of bed as gently as possible so as not to wake her.

After collecting the clothes Lizzie had thrown across the room and putting them away in the closet, as well as putting the party clothes she was wearing in the wash, you went back downstairs, looking for your bag to take to your room.

Your cell phone vibrated as you walked up the stairs.

It was a message from Scarlet, and you laughed lightly as you read its content.

“I heard you're coming home today, right? Lizzie was really upset about the rumors that you were dating, and asked me to take her out for a drink. I dropped her off at home, but she was pretty shaky. I didn't know you two had a thing, can we talk about it over coffee tomorrow?”

You were relieved that Scarlett was the person accompanying Lizzie, but now she knew you two had something. You were tired of it honestly. The secret. All you wanted was for everyone to know how much you loved Lizzie. And judging from recent events, that was a problem for her too. Or at least it was enough for her to drink more than she should.

But you would have to wait until Lizzie woke up to have this conversation, so you went back to your room, and after putting away the clothes from your bag, you took a shower and put on your pajamas, wasting no time in joining Lizzie in bed again.

//-//-//

Caribbean, one year and six months ago.

Following the music, you continued to dance slowly, your hand around Lizzie's waist while the other was entwined in the air with hers.

The luxury hotel where you were staying that week was hosting a Hawaiian themed evening, and well, after spending the day in the pool area, you decided to dance a little.

In that moment, with Lizzie in your arms, you were at peace completely. Moments like these, like waking up with her in your bed, or cooking together, or rehearsing your lines while curled up on the couch under the blanket were more than enough to make you sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lizzie.

You smiled before pulling your body away slightly, just to look at her. And she looked back at you with the same adoration, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You spun her into your arms then, making her laugh as you pulled her back, your hands resting on her neck as your hips swayed to the rhythm of the ukulele of the band playing on the stage.

There were a few other couples around, but you could hardly notice anyone but Lizzie.

You continued dancing, and you rested your forehead on hers, closing your eyes and breathing in her perfume. Lizzie smiled, stealing a quick kiss before resting her chin on your shoulder, following the rhythm of the dance.

When the show ends, you follow the crowd in the clapping for a moment before Lizzie entwines your hands and pulls you toward the bar.

"That was fun." She comments with cheeks flushed from the dance, her smile soft as you stand near each other, your hands intertwined as you reach for the menu.

"Dancing with you always is." You retorted charmingly, releasing her hand only to fit it against your waist, drawing a chuckle from Lizzie.

You ended up sharing some drinks and snacks, and you were starting to feel higher with each sip.

Lizzie was in the middle of a joke when you interrupted her.

"Marry me?"

She blinked in surprise, a confused chuckle escaping her lips.

"What?"

Maybe it was the drinking. Probably not, because with the emerald eyes looking so intently, you suddenly felt very sober. Your heart raced too, but you were never more sure of anything than you were now.

"Marry me." You repeat with a confident smile. Lizzie blushes with wide eyes.

"You... Are you serious?" She asks in surprise, and you let out a sigh, moving closer to take her hands and put them down on your racing heart.

"I love you." You tell her with nothing but sincerity. "I want to spend my life with you. I was planning something bigger, perhaps, at your parents' summer house. I would get down on one knee in front of your family and hand over the ring I've been carrying for three months." You confess and watch her look at you in shock. "I've been waiting for the right moment, Lizzie. But I've just realized that every second with you is the right moment. I want you to be my wife. Do you want me to be yours?"

It took a second for her to react, her expression changing from shock to pure happiness, the tears appearing in her eyes and the smile so big it made her eyes small.

"Yes, yes, of course." She replied between one shy laugh and another, moving forward to kiss you over and over again.

You couldn't stop smiling as you kissed her, and you giggled against each other's mouths, pulling apart to embrace each other.

It didn't take long for the people around the bar to notice and start clapping, but you didn't care.

All you were seeing was your future wife.

//-//-//-//

California, 1 year and 9 months ago.

You finished putting the coffee jug on the tray, the last missing item, before carrying it to your room, taking careful steps not to trip over anything on the way.

Lizzie was already awake, but still in bed. The glass of water in her hands and the missing pill on her bedside table indicated that she was already treating her hangover.

"Good morning, darling." You greeted as you entered, walking over to the bed to leave the platter on top of the sheet next to Lizzie.

"You're home." She commented in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, you just made a noise with your mouth as she sighed, running her hand over her face, probably because of her headache. "When did you get home?"

"Last night." You respond by watching her. "Just before you."

"Sorry." She says moving closer. You gently pull away from her attempt to kiss her lips, and Lizzie frowns. "What?"

"I was worried." You state seriously. Lizzie lets out a sigh, leaning her back against the bed completely. "I thought you were going to pick me up at the airport, but you didn't call. And then I find the house empty. Until you arrived, completely drunk at dawn."

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking away. It was your turn to sigh.

"What's happening, Elizabeth?"

"It 's nothing."

"Elizabeth."

"Stop it." She asks impatiently, turning her face to you again. "Don't call me that."

You just frown in confusion. "It's your name."

"No." She exclaims annoyedly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You only call me Elizabeth when you're angry. And you can't be angry at me because I have the right to go out!"

You watch her stand up, as if running away from the conversation, and you sigh impatiently, massaging your temple with your finger. Lizzie begins to remove her dress, clearly intent on going to take a shower.

"I never said you had no right to go out, Elizabeth." You retort ignoring the annoyed grunt she lets out at you continuing to call her by her full name. "I just think I have the right to ask why after we agreed on something, you changed plans at the last minute and decided to disappear."

"It's funny that you want to demand something from me when you've spent the last few months without giving me any satisfaction of where or who you were with!" She accuses angrily and you grimace in indignation.

"Oh, so it's about my work?" You retort angrily. "The last time I checked we had decided that I was going to record and come home. You said you were fine with that!"

Lizzie gave a humorless laugh, her dress falling to her feet as she worked to remove her bra.

"Well, you know what, I wasn't!" She shouts angrily, throwing the bra angrily into the closet. You need to remember that you are angry with her as you have the vision of her breasts exposed in front of you while she is yelling at you. "I didn't agree to the endless get-togethers with all those sluts around you! And I sure didn't agree with your flushed face on television flirting with Emilia Clarke in front of the whole country!"

You stared at Lizzie in shock, but she just grunted in irritation before turning to go to the bathroom.

"No, I think it's so funny you bring that up, you know, Elizabeth." You spoke aloud as you stood up to follow her. "Because when I said Aubrey Plaza was flirting with you, you told me it was just business. But suddenly, Emilia is something that bothers you!"

"God, this is so different from Aubrey!" she retorts in irritation, finally naked, before stepping into the shower. You were beginning to find it hard to remember why you were fighting now that you had the view of her wet silhouette in the shower stall, as she raised her voice to be heard beyond the sound of the water. "We were supposed to be flirting in the interviews, it was all for the movie. You were just falling all over Emilia for no reason. All those smiles and giggles." She declares angrily, making you bite back a smile. Lizzie naked, angry and jealous was hot as hell.

"I really can't believe we are having this conversation." You complain as you unbutton your pajama shirt. "The most absurd part of it all is you thinking I would have anything with anyone else."

"You say these things but don't live up to them with your actions." She retorts, annoyed. "I wouldn't think anything of it if you didn't flirt with other people!"

"I didn't flirt with anyone!" You return defensively, your blouse finally coming off. Lizzie's annoyed expression almost falters, but she keeps her gaze above your breasts as you take off your pants. "And honestly, none of this would be happening if everyone knew we were dating!"

Lizzie frowns, her anger finally dissipating with your sentence. You step into the shower stall with her, and she looks at you dubiously.

"You...you want to go public?" She asks, studying you as the water falls on her back. You swallow dryly, keeping yourself in front of her.

"Only if you want to."

Lizzie holds out her hand for you to take, and when you do, she pulls you gently until your breasts are almost touching.

"Do you think we're ready for that?" She whispers as your foreheads lean against each other. You sigh as you rest your hands on her waist.

"With you, I'm ready for anything, Lizzie."

She sighs against your lips, her hands moving up to your neck.

"I can't think about that with you naked in front of me." She mumbles before moving forward against his lips.

Kissing shouldn't feel this good.

You slide your tongue over hers a moment later, and you both sigh in need, feeling the effects of so much time apart. Your hands move down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing her against you, and the direct contact of exposed skin makes Lizzie whimper.

You press her against the glass of the shower stall, feeling the shower water against your back as you hold your mouths together in a passionate, hungry kiss.

When air was needed, you ran your kisses down your girlfriend's exposed collarbone, enjoying the way she sighed in anticipation, her hand moving up to the back of your neck to encourage you.

"God, I missed you." You sighed before sucking on the sensitive spot on her collarbone, making Lizzie whimper as she dug her nails into your shoulder.

She pulled your face back to hers, kissing you urgently, and you pressed your body against hers, your hands moving down to her thighs and up so that she entwined her legs around your waist.

The contact of your exposed intimates together made you both gasp in the kiss, but you slid your tongue against hers again, savoring her taste as your hands moved up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them with a full palm, your fingers playing with her hardened nipples and making Lizzie sigh wetly.

"What is it baby?" you teased when she was unable to keep up the pace of the kiss, throwing her head back as she felt your hands pressing her breasts hard, and Lizzie grunted as she bit her lips to keep from moaning, looking up at you with dark eyes, clearly struggling to keep her expression impassive. You smiled, pressing your hips forward and watching her close her eyes tightly, unable to contain a low moan that escaped her throat. "I want to hear you, baby."

"I'm still mad at you." She declares in an affected voice, and you murmur in understanding, lowering your face to her collarbone, and licking and kissing the skin, making her shiver.

"Is this angry sex, then?" You sneer as you move your hips forward again, the sensation bringing a rising wave of pleasure to both of you. "It doesn't seem like it."

Lizzie sighs impatiently, and puts her legs on the floor, pushing you away by your shoulder.

You are so stunned by the sudden break in contact that you barely have time to absorb her turning off the shower before she pulls you by the hand out of the stall.

You were about to ask what she was going to do, but she pushed you onto the bed, and disappeared into the closet.

"Lizzie?" You called out uncertainty, preparing your apology speech for what exactly you couldn't say. But she walked out next, and the sight made your mouth go dry. "Damn."

Elizabeth was wearing a strap-on, the rubber penis already fitted in the front and ready for use. And from the determined expression on her face, she was more than willing to prove to you that she was pissed.

"Fuck me." You breathed aroused by the view, and Lizzie gave a wry chuckle as she approached the bed.

"Oh, I will." It was her only warning before she broke the distance, kissing you fervently, her tongue exploring your mouth and pulling the air from your lungs, making you see stars.

You let out a low moan, moving your hands up to her waist to pull her to you, but Lizzie pushed your hands away, breaking the kiss and moving one hand up to your neck, squeezing lightly as she made you look at her.

"Knees, ass up." She commanded in a husky voice, her gaze glittering with lust, you bit your lips to keep from moaning again, feeling your pussy pulsate with desire as you obeyed, turning on the bed quickly as Lizzie positioned herself behind you. "I'll teach you not to flirt with other girls."

"I was n-fuck." Your speech turned into an horsy whimper as she suddenly penetrated you with the dildo, you were so wet that she had no problem at all, the toy slipping into your folds with ease, filling you completely. Lizzie chuckled breathlessly, her hands steadying your hips.

"God, you're so hot." She murmured, moving slowly inside you, the action making you clench your fists in the sheets and arch your back, your pussy clenching against the dildo.

"Fuck, Lizzie."

She thrust again, this time hard, her hands squeezing your hips as she went deep inside, making you moan loudly.

Before establishing a rhythm, she leaned against you, her hand coming up to your hair and pulling you back as she brought her mouth to your ear.

"You are mine." She whispered before she thrust hard inside you, making you moan. "Do you understand?"

"Not quite yet, try harder." You teased breathlessly, the pleasure at having the dildo all the way inside you making you half dizzy. Lizzie grunted angrily, this time stroking even harder, making you see stars as you whimpered, your body beginning to tremble.

"Quit being a brat or I'm going to fucking stop." She warned against your ear, thrusting more slowly this time, and you moaned breathlessly, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Lizzie set a slow pace, but thrusting hard as you moaned and whimpered, every time the dildo entered you making you even wetter and aroused, to the point that you were unable to hold back the loud moans, and she giggled.

"Look at you, a horny, begging mess." She sneered against your ear. "You are mine, and only mine."

She whispered, her strokes deep inside you. "I want you to remember that when you flirt with other girls. How good I make you feel."

You whimpered, your pussy clenching against the dildo for more, Lizzie keeping the strokes torturously slow. Seeing your state, she laughed softly, pulling out of you completely.

Before you had time to complain, she turned you over on the bed, spreading your legs as she bent down, thrusting deep inside you. Your moan died against her lips as she kissed you hard, laying against you as she buried the dildo inside you.

You could feel Lizzie everywhere. Her breasts against you, her lips on yours, and it was too much. She thrust hard again, deep and fast as you had your legs around her waist, and her tongue on yours, and you began to tremble in spasms, pleasure spreading throughout your body.

Lizzie smiled against your lips as you lost the ability to respond to the kiss, moaning and whimpering at the closeness of your climax. Her mouth moved down to your neck as she kept up the pace of the thrusts inside you, and your hands tightened around her waist, pulling on her hips for more friction.

It wasn't long before you fell over the edge, the tightness under your belly exploding, the pleasure spreading to the tips of your feet as you moaned against Lizzie's ear, crumbling under her.

As you tried to normalize your breathing after such an intense orgasm, she straightened to look at you, her eyes had adoration in them.

"You did so good." She praised against your lips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"I did." You replied in a husky voice, taking a deep breath to control the effects of climax.

In one swift motion, you spun you two around on the bed, sighing as you felt the toy move inside you.

"Now you will learn to honor your appointments, Miss Olsen." You warned as your hands moved down to the latches of the strap, removing it as Lizzie bit her lips, looking at you with a mischievous gaze.

You shifted to remove the strap and toss the toy on the floor, returning to sit on Lizzie's lap, your mouth returning to hers immediately.

When she began to move beneath you, you smiled against her lips, pulling away as you rested your forehead against hers and let your fingers play with her wet entrance.

"Use your mouth." She asked breathlessly, her nails digging into your arm.

"My baby wants my mouth?" You teased, moving forward to lick her lips and pulling away with a short laugh when she moaned as she chased your mouth unsuccessfully. You circled her clitoris with your fingers, and Lizzie gasped. "The next time you want to get drunk, at least text me, my love." You warned as you penetrated her with two fingers at once, feeling her hot and slippery, while Lizzie moaned loudly against your mouth. "Do you understand?"

You removed your fingers, playing with her entrance until she nodded frantically, pushing her hips toward your hand. But you laughed lightly, pulling your hand away completely, and leaving her with a confused expression.

"I thought you wanted my mouth." You scoff, already ducking, as Lizzie looks at you expectantly.

"God, you always fuck me so good." Lizzie comments as you kiss her thighs, moving down. You smile against her skin, finally reaching her pussy.

You stare at her before moving forward, your tongue against her clitoris as she sighs with need.

"Don't torture me." She begs breathlessly, her wrists locked on the bed, you smile, lingeringly licking her, and she closes her eyes tightly.

"I won't, my love." You assure her before returning your mouth to her pussy, kissing her entrance before you begin to suck and lick, devouring her with desire.

She moans loudly, letting out affected sighs with each movement of your tongue inside her, and you hold her thighs to keep her open for you as you eat her out.

It doesn't take long for Lizzie to reach her edge, already near the limit from fucking you, but it's still delicious to have her crumbling against your mouth like a weeping mess, her orgasm on your tongue as she screams your name.

You climb your body back up onto her, and kiss her tenderly, unlike anything so far.

Lizzie is trying to control her breathing from the climax, but sighs in satisfaction as she tastes herself on your tongue.

As silence falls over you, you sigh lightly, your hands caressing her face.

"Are we okay, Lizzie?" You ask as you settle down to lie across from each other. She leans into the touch of your hands, as her hands come up to your waist.

"I don't know." She confesses. "But I want us to be."

You smile, using your finger to take a strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"Do you think going public will make us better?"

"I don't want to love you in secret anymore." She says and you feel your heart soar. "Do you understand?"

You smile. "Yes, babe. I feel the same way."

She gives a relieved smile, her gaze passionate. You break the distance, and kiss her gently.

When you break the kiss a moment later, you look quickly at your bodies. "I think we should have this conversation with clothes on." You comment and Lizzie giggles.

"Later. Now I show how much I missed you in my bed." She says before bringing your lips together again.

You certainly wouldn't object to that.

//-//-//

Atlanta, three years ago.

You hesitated at the entrance to the restaurant.

Through the window you could see Lizzie, and all your cast mates, as it was the closing celebration of the WandaVision filming.

You swallowed hard, the object in your pocket suddenly becoming too heavy.

You startled slightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"I guess we're both late, huh?" Kathryn Hahn, your cast mate, remarked gently, putting her car keys away in her pocket clearly having arrived right with you.

You gave her a lopsided smile and she noticed your hesitation, assuming a worried expression.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

You shifted your gaze to the window again, watching Lizzie giggle shyly, her gaze shining slightly. She looked around too, searching, and you knew it was for you.

"Yeah, I just...I was just having a moment of doubt." You say still looking at Lizzie. Kathryn followed your gaze, and smiled, but didn't comment on it.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the object.

"Wow, are you going to...?" Kathryn asked in surprise but you gave a humorless laugh.

"No, I couldn't." You say swallowing dryly, and looking away from the velvet box. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"And when either of us are?" Kat returned, making you smile.

"How did you know you were going to say yes to your husband?" You asked next. Kathryn sighed thoughtfully.

"I didn't." She replied. "There's no way to know until you get asked. But what I did know was that I loved him. And that's what really matters."

You absorbed her words in silence, and then put the box back in your pocket.

"I think she loves me." You say. "That will be enough until I find the right moment."

Kat murmurs in understanding, and then pushes her shoulder against yours lightly.

"Just don't wait too long." She warns with a smile, nodding her head signaling for the two of you to enter the restaurant and join the rest of the team.

When you enter, any thoughts of Lizzie denying your marriage proposal are driven out by the image of her contented smile when she sees you arrive.

//-//-//-//

A/F/N> I'm not even gonna try to say this is the last time i'm continuing this work because at this point, I just know I don't believe my own words anymore haha. Tell me what you think people.

Tag> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x yn #Elizabeth Olsen x Reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #elizabeth olsen x !bottom reader #dom lizze #dom!elizabeth olsen #avengers imagines #brat reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #elizabeth olsen smut

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Mine Again - Harry Styles

a/n: this is something i just thought about after my nap today lol, so enjoy this treat, a classic exlovers to lovers fic!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

Seeing an ex is never easy. Whether it’s by your choice or not. Working together with an ex is even harder and now you brought a situation on yourself where this is your reality.

Arriving to the studio of The Late Late show you immediately get escorted to your designated dressing room where a hair and makeup artist are already waiting for you. Today you are here to promote your new movie, Don’t Worry Darling with your onscreen lover, Harry Styles, however, what no one else in the building knows is that once the two of you were real life lovers.

Your romance blossomed during filming, having spent so much time together on set, it didn’t take long for a relationship to form between you and him, the chemistry you shared was immense and undeniable, anyone could see that and you felt like you were burning in a bonfire of the most intense feelings you’ve felt for any man. It was passionate and intoxicating, it felt like something that could only happen in movies, but it was your reality.

However filming ended and you were forced to go your separate ways, you both tried hard to keep what you had and though your feelings never changed, distance brought the worst out of the both of you. Six months after you became an item, you mutually agreed to break it off.

You haven’t seen him since then, meaning that it’s been five torturous months without having any contact with him and now that promo has officially kicked in, you are forced to travel around and make appearances with the man you love, yes, still love more than anyone on this Earth. Not even five months and absolutely no contact could change your feelings for him, however he might already be over you at this point, having forgotten about feelings and memories you still hold close to your heart.

How has he been doing? What is he like now? Has he been thinking about you? Does he miss you? What is it going to be like to see him for the first time?

The questions flood your mind as you sit in the chair and let the professionals work their magic on you, covering up the dark circles under your eyes that formed due to the sleepless night you had the day before, nonstop thinking about Harry and what it’ll be like to see him for the first time again.

After careful elimination, you choose a dress for the appearance, it’s tight and short, the fabric is covered in glittering sequins down your body and the long sleeves as well and while the dress covers a lot up from the waist, it makes up in the lack of length on your legs as the end of it barely reaches the upper part of your thighs, ending it black feathers that tickle your freshly shaven legs. The nude heels add even more to them, making you appear like you could hit the runway any moment when in reality you are not high enough to be a model.

There’s still some time until the taping starts, James drops by to say hello and tell you how excited he is to have you and Harry on tonight and you chit-chat for a little before you go to take a quick business call outside. When you’re done with that, you head back to your dressing room to take a few quick photos to post later, but right as you near your destination, a door swings open down the hallway and Harry steps out, wearing a black suit, of course, head to toe Gucci. The crispy grey shirt’s first few buttons are left undone, allowing you a glimpse of his toned chest and his necklace with the tiny cross pendant on it.

He looks good. No, he looks absolutely stunning, just like he always does and just the sight of him takes your breath away, forcing you to stop in your tracks when you lay your eyes at him. He spots you as well, stopping to take a look at you before you see a small smile on his perfect pink lips.

“Y/N, hi! You look… gorgeous,” he speaks up lowly, his eyes raking your body up and down.

“I, uhh—Thanks!” you breathe out, feeling already flustered. How are you gonna survive the interview, sitting next to him, talking about what it was like to play a married couple?!

His hand moves a bit and there’s a moment of awkwardness, neither of you really knowing what to do, last time you saw each other you kissed as your hellos, but now it’s not an option, obviously. At last, he moves forward and goes for a hug.

He envelopes you in his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, the warmth of his body bringing you a sense of home and it hits you hard how much you’ve missed him in these five months.

You swear he holds you just a second longer than what would be appropriate before his arms fall from around your frame and you force yourself to let go of him, though every fiber in you is protesting against it.

“How—How have you been?” he asks, his beautiful green eyes finding yours.

“I’m good. I’m good,” you nod. “What about you?”

“Same. Just the… usual stuff.”

“Writing music?” you ask with a soft smile. You still vividly remember those nights you spent together after a long day of filming, crashing at either his or your place and you often found him strumming his guitar in a corner, scribbling words down into his notebook. Sometimes he sang you the songs he came up with, sometimes he kept them to himself.

“Yeah, I’ve been writing a lot lately,” he admits with a shy smile.

Someone calls his name down the hallway and his head snaps up before looking back at you.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, stepping aside so he can walk past.

“And you really look amazing, Y/N,” he calls after you one last time before jogging down the hallway.

You walk into your dressing room and shutting the door you lean your back against it, huffing heavily as you try to recollect yourself. Somehow, this encounter went really well, because the two of you were civil and respectful, but it was also a painful shock to see him in the flesh again. It was one thing to see pictures of him here and there, but actually meeting him, hugging him, talking to him… you need time to process it all.

Unfortunately, you don’t have much of that. Twenty minutes later you are walked to your spot behind the curtains from where you’ll walk out when James calls your name. Just as you arrive Harry appears as well, casually talking with one of the camera guys, having a laugh and just as he sees you, his eyes fall down your body again and you swear you see him gulp hard before turning his attention back to the man.

“Ready?” he asks upon walking up to you, a hand coming to rest on your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder you look down at his hand, lips parted at the feeling of his welcoming touch. He sees your glance and pulls his hand back quickly. “Sorry, it’s a habit, I guess,” he mumbles, blushing softly.

“It’s fine,” you smile. Of course it’s fine, for what you care, he could throw you over his shoulder like a cave man and run out of the building, you wouldn’t say a word. You want his touch on your body, you’ve been craving it since the moment you last saw him, but are you even allowed to admit it? You have no idea what he is thinking or feeling, you can’t just come right at him like that.

Harry fixes the lapels of his suit jacket, but what he doesn’t see is that the collar of his shirt is kind of stuck under the jacket.

“Your shirt is… let me fix it,” you breathe out and he turns to face you, letting your delicate hands fix his outfit, perfecting the look to the tiniest bit. “There, you look great,” you smile, your hands sliding down his chest before they fall to your sides again.

“Thank you,” he nods smiling back at you before offering an arm that you take gladly. He knows how much you hate high heels and that you are always scared of tripping and falling and being the gentleman that he is, he’ll be the support you need.

The taping soon starts and the two of you stand patiently behind the curtain as James introduces you.

“And now, please welcome the stars of the upcoming hit movie, Don’t Worry Darling! Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles!”

The crowd starts clapping and cheering as the curtain moves and the two of you walk in, arms linked and Harry makes sure to slow down when you walk down the few little stairs. James welcomes the both of you with two kisses before everyone takes their place, James behind his desk, you and Harry sitting on the couch.

“Thank you so much for dropping by tonight, guys!” James smiles at the two of you.

“Thank you for having us,” Harry nods with a soft smile.

“You both have been guests on the show separately, but tonight you are here as a pair, since your latest movie, Don’t Worry Darling is hitting the theaters this weekend. How are you feeling about that, excited to see the film finally?”

“Very excited,” you nod with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the final version, because obviously we only know the version we envisioned while filming, but the actual movie is going to be something else.”

“Y/N, your role in the movie was originally handed to Florence Pugh who had to step back because she broke her arm,” James points out and you nod.

“Yes, I stepped in her place just about a week before production started and if I’m being honest I was scared that people would prefer to see her in the role, but I had a talk with her actually and she said she helped Olivia, the director to pick out the person to take her place and she said she instantly knew I would be perfect for it, so I trust her.”

“That’s amazing to hear, that the two of you didn’t have any rivalry going on,” James enthuses.

“She actually visited set a few times,” Harry chimes in and you nod.

“Yeah, we had a great time together.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, the three of you together,” James chuckles. “So, the two of you play a married couple in the film and if I’m not mistaken you didn’t know each other beforehand. Was it hard to get into the roles with not much background on each other?”

“We met up a few times before filming started to get to know each other more and I think we hit it off right away, so it wasn’t hard for me,” Harry speaks up and you nod along.

“It was obviously a little different situation than when you meet someone and become friends, because as we got to know each other more, we had to go through scenes that were meant for a couple that was already years into their relationship, but I think it strengthened our friendship,” you answer, hands laid flat on your bare thighs.

No lie has been told, everything you said was the truth. You just left out the part where you become real life lovers and started dating a month into production.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting for a while now, have quite a few roles under your belt, what did you think of Harry’s acting?”

“I think that he is a wonderful actor and I hope people will give him his much deserved credit for it. He is often still seen as just a silly singer from a former boy band and they don’t take him seriously when he really is a very talented man. You’ll see in the movie as well, his role was a tough one, needed a lot of work and a wide range of emotions, but I think he did an amazing job.”

You dare to glance at him at the end of your little speech and for a moment you forget about the audience, James and the cameras. He is looking at you with so much gratitude and thankfulness. You remember every talk you had where he opened up to you about wanting to be taken seriously in the acting business, that he is not trying to be just a joke and another failed attempt of a singer to try himself out in movies. He told you how scared he is of not being good enough when you saw him every day on set and you were blown by his eternal talent and special take on his role. He deserves to be praised, he deserves every bit of it.

“It was easy, I had a great partner to learn from,” he smiles softly and you feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“You two really have the chemistry we’ve heard so much about, I can’t wait to see it on the big screen!” James sighs. “Tell me a little about what it was like to film? You guys spent a lot of time together, must have made a lot of memories.”

You take a deep breath as all those memories mentioned flood your mind. You had the best time of your life not just with Harry, but with the whole crew. Leaving after production was wrapped really broke your heart.

“It didn’t even feel like working,” Harry starts. “We always joked around, had lunch or dinner together, we were like a big family. It was so nice to have so many amazing, talented and hard-working people around you all day.”

“The jokes never stopped,” you add chuckling.

“I wish I could have been on set!” James laughs wholeheartedly. “That didn’t happen, but we have a little something. The crew has put together a short BTS video of the filming, so let’s have a look at that,” he announces and the video starts playing on every screen in the studio.

It’s a short little montage, but it captures the vibes of filming just perfectly. Clips shown from set are not just of you and Harry, but all the other cast and crew members. Goofing around, having lots and lots of laughs, dancing on set, which happened quite often and just all of you having a great time. Some of the slips however pain your chest, the ones of you and Harry.

This was very early into your relationship, no one on set even knew you were together, but seeing yourself on the screen you can’t deny the sparkles in your eyes every time you were around him.

A clip shows the two of you between two takes, doing a goofy dance in the kitchen of the home that was used as the set of the house of your characters, you are both wearing your costumes, Harry looks great in his suit and your long retro dress is flowing around you with every movement you make. He grabs you by your waist and spins you before you end up in his arms laughing crazily, you were so happy, so carefree. You wish you could go back to that moment…

Another footage was taken in your trailer when Harry took the place of Clare, your makeup artist and tried to do your eyeliner but miserably failed. In the video, he is gently clasping your chin, angling your face for himself as his other hand is working on the line, but it’s wobbly and way too thick, so you both end up just laughing when you check yourself in the mirror.

And there are some small moments of the two of you, moving around on set, lying in bed between takes, sitting in your chairs while eating, just tiny memories you still cherish so much and wish to live through again, but it’s the past. And it wouldn’t hurt this much if you knew Harry from the video was still yours.

When the video ends you need to blink a few times as your eyes have watered a little. You catch Harry’s gaze and he looks worried, he clearly wants to ask if you’re okay, make sure it was just the sentimentality of the moment, but he doesn’t have the chance, the cameras are still rolling.

“That looked like so much fun! Next time make sure to invite me on set too!” James jokes and you force a laugh out of yourself.

A few questions are asked about future plans and just generally about your careers before the taping finally ends. You thank James for the invite again and a photo is taken of the three of you, you standing in the middle with the two men on your sides. When everything is settled, you head to your dressing room, using the chance to slip away silently while Harry is still chit-chatting on the set.

In the comfort and silence of the dressing room, you lean onto the vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror, finding it ironic that on the outside, you look perfectly fine, healthy and pretty, but on the inside… you could scream. You miss Harry so much, you hoped that your feelings for him have toned down a little over these five months, but it was just the same if not even worse.

A faint knock is heard on the door and you quickly fix yourself before calling out to the person outside. The door opens and for your surprise, Harry steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you disappeared so fast,” he softly says.

“Yeah, I’m just… a little tired,” you lie, though you know exactly he can see right through you.

“Y/N, I saw that look in your eyes after the video…”

“What look?” you ask with a huff. “What do you want me to say, Harry?”

“The truth,” he answers. “I’m not James, don’t bullshit me.”

“You want the truth? I’ll give it to you, but don’t blame me if it’s uncomfortable for you,” you chuckle bitterly, throwing your hands into the air. “I’ve been miserable, Harry. I miss you so fucking much, seeing you today was like Hell. I really thought it would be easier, but now I’m stuck with going from one interview to the other with red carpet events all around the world, seeing you every day when I terribly miss you and it fucking sucks, because you might not even feel the sa—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry crosses the distance between the two of you, his hands grab your face and pulls you into a hard and passionate kiss. His lips move perfectly against yours and it feels like he is trying to squeeze every missed moment from the past five months into the kiss, making you melt into his arms completely.

He is everywhere. He is all you can taste, you breathe him in, his hands are everywhere on your body and your chest is pressed tight against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into your embrace. Your tongues dance, teeth tugging and pulling on lips, it’s a whole mess, but it’s the most perfect mess you’ve ever been. He takes your breath away completely and you don’t even want it back if it means you can’t have him.

Harry pulls away first, both your chests heaving wildly from the heavy make-out session and he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“If you think I haven’t missed you like crazy… you can’t be more wrong, baby. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to call you a thousand times and beg for you to come back to me, but I thought you already moved on.”

“Moving on?!” you huff with a tired smile. “Harry, I could never…”

“Alright, then I’m not letting you go again. No way you are walking out of this building without being mine again.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words as you pull him down for another kiss, needing to feel his lips on yours.

“I never stopped being yours,” you whisper against his lips and he moans weakly before crashing his lips against yours again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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callmeshakespurr · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

#suicide squad #rick flag #y/n #rick flag x male reader #male reader

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

Text

When In Italy Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

He remembered your order.

It was all you could think about after you sat down, a waitress coming quickly to your table and he gave you a look, asking you if that’s what you wanted. You gave a small nod and you refrained from commenting on it, not wanting to stroke his already enlarged ego you are sure has only gotten big since you have seen him last based on… well everything.

The waitress thanked you both, taking your menus and leaving the two of you alone, giving one another an awkward smile before you looked down at your hands, now regretting pretending to not know what to order in order to hide behind your menu a bit more.

“So…” Harry began, fingers drumming onto the table, “how have you been?”

You let out an airy laugh, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning back in the woven dining chair, warm Italian sun hitting your face as you looked out at the view and back to him, not even sure what to say. You, obviously, were not doing great and he was.

You open your mouth to start to answer but stop when the waitress comes back, placing the cool, water glasses in front of you and they quickly become interesting as you watch the condensation drop down from the glass onto the table.

“Y/n…” Harry began, looking up at you and sighing when your eyes met, “Can you talk to me? I just want to see what you’ve been up to.”

“What about you?” You counter, heart pounding against your chest, “I feel like you’re the one who needs to check in and share some updates more than anyone else, don’t you think?”

“I guess I deserve that.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water and looking at you over the glass causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” you glare, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, “really makes the whole situation better.”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” He nodded, holding his hands up in defense, “but I didn’t know you were going to be there, I would have never brought her if I would have known that, obviously and I’m sorry it happened this way but I’m glad I saw you, I’m glad to see you.”

“Who is she?”

He looked surprised by your question, not expecting you to rip the band-aid off in the way that you did. But, you knew him. Better than anyone you’ve ever known in your life and you couldn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this so much. You also needed this for yourself, not wanting to fall for his famous charm, looking into those beautiful, jade eyes you knew you would be done for.

It’s the reason your sitting across from at this table at all, not being able to resist his smile, his sot, caring voice as he asked you to see him, having no idea what you would be getting into all, you said yes without any hesitation and you decided in that moment, watching as he went around the clear high priority topic with ease.

“Her name is Olivia.” He sighed, “she’s the director of the movie I’m going to be in and…”

“You’re together?”

He didn’t answer, looking at his hands.

You nodded, taking his silence as the clear answer and you bit your bottom lip hard, tasting blood as your teeth sunk into the flesh, hoping the pain would stop the tears that were stinging your eyes. You could feel your hands shake and you let out a sigh, standing up from the table and running your hands over your skirt, frustrated he didn’t even have the nerve to come out and simply say it.

“I-I’m going to go,” You began to ramble, looking down at the water glass and you dug through your bag, looking for money to pay for your meal and tip the waitress, even though it wasn’t yet served to you, eyes burning as you did your best to keep in your tears.

“Please stay.” He whispered and you shook your head rapidly, pulling out your wallet and looking for a big enough bill, “Okay, let me just drive you back, put your wallet away this is on me.I asked you to come.” He added, pulling out his wallet and laying down a more than generous amount.

“No, please.” You whispered, stepping back as you stepped closer to you, “just, stay. Take my food with you. I’m gonna book a flight home and you guys can have the house to yourselves by tomorrow night.”

“Y/n-”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

You ignored his calls of your name, walking down the pavestone as you made your way through the quaint town, passing the many boutiques and gelato shops you two went through a dozen times.You also did your best to ignore the longing look of pity as you passed by the strangers, thankful your italian wasn’t as good as his, that way you didn’t have to also hear what they were saying about you.

You wandered your way through the beautiful village, wishing it brought you the same amount of joy as it always did, but not it just left you a bitter taste in your mouth, reaching for your phone and calling for a cab, looking up flights the second the car pulled up.

***

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your alarm, heart wrenching at the realization that all of this was real and you fist rubbed your swollen eyes, sniffling as you sat up and the details all came back to you.

“He found someone else already.” you had sobbed into the phone to your best friend, clutching at your chest as your back was against the front door. “He already moved on, y/bff/n and he brought her here and-and… I-I got a flight home and I just don’t know what to do.”

You were beginning to hyperventilate, mind being unable to wrap around the fact that he had moved on so quickly, the man you thought you were going to marry, being together for years, had already moved on to someone else.

Your best friend had done her best to calm you, begging you to let them fly there to help get your things together, to at least meet you at a connecting flight so you weren’t flying home completely alone, but you didn’t allow it, knowing how much trouble they would get into with their boss.

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” they told you, after a long pause, their heart was breaking at the sound of your cries, “You’re gonna make it through this, y/n. I know you are.”

You weakly stumbled out of bed, walking straight to the closet and, once again, pulling your bags out and throwing them onto the bed, throwing your all clothes into a messy pile and zipping up the bag, pushing it into the hallway after quickly changed into a clean outfit, slipping on a pair of sneakers as you got ready for your flight home.

Forcing yourself to brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair was harder than you had ever imagined, hating to have to look at your reflection as the face of her was being compared side by side in your mind. You hated yourself more for wishing that Harry tried a little harder, wishing that he had ran after you and tried to at least explain more, extend the olive branch so to speak, even though it would never fully heal your wounds.

Your anxious mind wouldn’t stop reliving your morning with Harry and you couldn’t help but have regrets, wondering if you overreacted, wondering what would have happened if you stayed for the rest of the meal.

Could you ever be friends?

Pushing yourself away from the counter you hoped that the thoughts would subside, wishing you knew the answers but knowing you never would. You shuffled your way into the living room, curling up on the couch as you waited for the car to come pick you up and take you to the airport, not having the energy to reach to pick up the remote so you sat in silence.

Although it felt like minutes, an hour soon passed and you heard the knock at the door and you forced yourself up, grabbing your suitcase and wheeling it behind you as you opened the door, being greeted by the driver who took your suitcase from you and loaded it into the car as you followed behind, finding your place in the backseat.

The time went faster than you thought it would, the drive to the airports, the security line, flights, layovers, all of it. The next thing you knew you were walking down the steps of the airport, seeing the face of your best friend and running towards them, dropping your suitcase in the process as they quickly took you in their arms, holding you as tight as they could.

“I got you.” They whispered, rubbing your back as your tears sunk into the fabric of the fabric covering their shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?” you horsley whispered, “my heart hurts so much.”

“I know, I know.” They whispered back, pulling back and looking you into the eyes, giving you a smile and wiping away your tears, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You are an incredible human being, y/n, you are so unbelievably strong andI know that you can do this and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way, okay?. ”

And they were.

Being there for you every single step of the way for the next two weeks since you got back from your trip and even moved into your apartment with you for a few days at first as you adjusted. Holding you every single time that you cried, always checking in and making sure that you were taking care of yourself and always being there for you to talk about everything, even though you weren’t quite ready yet, they were there for you when you were going to be and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

Now, after a couple weeks of healing, after your plummet on your journey of healing post break up, you felt like you were back on your way up. You started leaving your apartment more again and y/bff/n even got you to go out with them and a couple of friends one night.

Actually starting to feel better and even starting to feel a lot more like yourself.

Your phone buzzed and you quickly took a look down at it, seeing a text from y/bff/n

Be there soon! i can't wait to try out this new coffee place!

You smiled and sent back your quick reply, letting her know you were going to head downstairs touching up your makeup quickly as you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled back at your reflection, seeing the glow and fullness starting to come back to your face, the circles under your eyes slowly disappearing more and more everyday.

Grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter and sliding on your shoes you got ready to leave your apartment, heading out the door and locking the door behind you, jiggling the handle to endure it was locked before turning on your heel to head out. You go to reach for the elevator button, but it dings as it announces its arrival and you step out of the way, allowing whatever neighbor to have a clear path to their apartment. Instead, you're met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Harry?”

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

Thanks for reading! Comments/feedback is always encouraged and that way I can let you know when the next part is up!!

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lokiskitten · 3 years

Text

Tom Hiddleston | nice acting skills

Pt2 : the changing room

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

Author’s note : I never originally planned to write a second part but I was being held at gun point so here’s pt2 of the “nice acting skills” imagine KSKSK

plot : after going through this rather peculiar moment, you unexpectedly bump into Tom in one of the changing rooms. From there, things take an unexpected turn.

warnings : smut ( with /legal/ age gap ), unprotected sex, extremely light and discreet spanking.

You were pulled out of your daydream session again by the exhaustingly familiar sound of the director throwing around new orders, setting you and Tom free from set as this scene didn’t necessarily needed to be filmed twice. You were now sent off to the makeup and costumes room which was located nowhere far from the place you currently sat. Tom wasn’t meant to be changing nor getting ready in the same room as you did, which was totally understandable due to the fact that you didn’t share the same gender nor age. He therefore took a different turn than you did, feet leading him to the left as you were accompanied on your right.

You were allowed in your personal changing room, the makeup lady arranging her stencils which laid on the table before the mirror. However, she suddenly seemed to remember about an important detail which she seemingly needed to be getting on the instant. You were therefore left alone with nothing but the costumes and cold cup of tea to keep you company. Sighing tiredly, you sat down on the chair which faced the mirror, eyes falling on your own tired reflexion. However, you were now able to hear the sound of the door opening again, a forced smile appearing on your lips as you expected this person who just walked in to be the makeup artist.

“Did you find what you’ve been looking fo-“ you began, eyes diverting upwards only to land onto Tom’s familiar yet unexpected silhouette. He closed the door behind himself, leaning against the wall as his strong arms crossed against his bare chest. You were now trapped with him. However, it was far from being a bother. But your naturally strong mindset forced you to put up a mask and pretend as if his naked upper body wasn’t something which disturbed your mind and senses. “Oh, it’s you.” You spoke bluntly, trying you best to hide any emotion which could’ve been a threaten to your reputation as a young and serious lady.

Tom smirked. “Yes, it’s me.” He answered, his deep voice which carried a beautiful British accent rolling off his tongue perfectly. It never failed to make your heart and crotch melt. Finally getting up from the door, the older man slowly moved towards your seat before his veiny hands decided to take ahold of the leather material. His ocean blue eyes stared at your reflection in the mirror, yet he wasn’t making eye contact but simply admiring how beautiful your body was. Gently, his hand moved up to your hair which he dragged back behind your ear, fully revealing your beautiful face to him.

“You’re beautiful.” He affirmed, making sure to regulate both his voice and tone in order to guarantee that he would look as attractive as he possibly could- even tho he wouldn’t have needed any of these forced artifacts to seduce you or anyone else. You had caught him red handed through his game, though- again- it was far from being a bother. In contrary, you enjoyed it. However, the little voice in your head couldn’t help but beg you to deny his offer whilst the other part of yourself desperately wanted you to give in his flirts. Your body easily became a battlefield for those two separate opinions to fight and argue endlessly.

Face to your lack of answer- and that mostly because you were lost in your thoughts- Tom tilted his head before moving his hands down to the opening of your robe, gently starting to pull on it in order to reveal your bare chest. However, your own hand was soon to move up to his wrist and take a firm hold of it, asserting dominance and stopping the older man through his track. Face to this hostile move, the actor couldn’t help but grow confused. He frowned and accepted to respectfully pull his hand away. “Do you not want this? I beg your pardon, I thought you shared those same feelings which previously took possession of my body.” Tom explained, referring to how he felt whilst shooting the infamous scene barely a couple of minutes ago.

“No no, I do.” Your responded, your main priority being to make sure that he wouldn’t feel like he was in the wrong nor inappropriate. You finally agreed to get up from the chair you have been sitting on, still unfortunately remaining shorter than your screen partner who towered above you. “But isn’t this... not such a good thing? I mean, I always hear people brag about not mixing your love life with coworkers.” You explained, remaining aware that Tom surely didn’t work that way, which was easily noticeable if you bothered to take a look at the female casts from the movies he’s played in and link it all up with his never ending list of ex romantic partners.

Upon noticing that he didn’t seem to truly pay attention to your words, but more to your face, you stopped yourself through your speech. He was adorning those flirty eyes of his, which no woman could potentially resist to. No matter how hard you fought, in the end, you’d always fall for him. “Can you- stop looking at me like that, with your eyes and.. eyebrows.. and all of it.” You ordered, hands gesturing towards his face. Hearing those satisfying words, Tom accentuated his facial features game. “Looking at you like what?” He responded, slowly moving closer to your body until his hands could finally wrap around your waist. It felt like a huge victory to him.

Before you could know it, Tom’s lips pressed against yours, the man offering you a genuine and intense kiss which honestly resembled the ones he’d give you on set. But for now, this didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were sharing a wanted and needed moment with your screen partner. His hands moved down from your cheeks to your shoulders, pushing off your robe which fell off your body with ease. Unlike him, you didn’t adorn any form of underwear and was therefore left naked for the older man to cherish and enjoy. The kiss progressively intensified, both of your lips parting in order to allow each other’s tongue to come in.

As he embraced your figure, Tom slowly started to push you towards the nearest wall, the two of you stumbling upon a couple of objects before your back could finally collide with the hard material. You moaned against his mouth, knee moving up to his hip which allowed you to feel his hardening bulge against your sensitive core. Your clit was throbbing, begging for sexual satisfaction coming from the man. Feeling your leg suddenly raise against his hip, Tom’s hand moved underneath your thigh and made sure to hold it up there, offering you some free support so you wouldn’t have to carry the heavy member on your own.

Tom cared a lot about the feminine pleasure- probably more than he did care for his own- which would surely guarantee you a good time spent with him during this early afternoon.

Upon feeling that you were now wrapping your arms around his neck, Tom decided to take the initiative to pull his boxers down- setting free his hardening member which had yet to grow to its full size. He was now able to fully pick you up, hands wrapped underneath your thighs in a cautious manner. His tip wouldn’t stop colliding with your soaking hole, visibly begging for entrance without ever truly daring to cross the step. Thankfully, you knew that Tom had always been a very determined man who usually reached out for the stuff he wanted instead of waiting for people to give it to him.

Therefore, it didn’t take long for him to carefully sit you down on his cock, being able to feel that you were now wet enough to painlessly welcome in his prominent member. You guys moaned together, his forehead pressing against yours as his girth was progressively coated with your love juices. Once he reached balls deep, the actor decided to take a couple of seconds in order to allow you to adjust to his size, ocean blue eyes looking up at your face which he admired and praised more than anything in the world at the moment.

Kissing your lips, Tom began to move again, hips gently and cautiously thrusting forward and retracting backwards repetitively until he felt like he could now fasten his pace. Meanwhile, you found yourself lost through pleasure and bliss, forehead firmly pressed against his as you decided that it would probably be wiser for you to keep your mouth shut and avoid to attract anyone else’s attention. Besides, you only wanted and needed his. Moaning out loud would’ve been a great risk to take as the two of you remained aware that you were in a studio filled with thousands of working people. Therefore, Tom regulated his pleasure by wincing and hissing silently whilst you decided to carry on humming sensitively.

Your arms remained wrapped around his neck as he carried on pleasuring your cunt as well as his own member, lips praising your neck which in some way also helped him through the restricted moans process. His girth rubbed past every single sensitive spot of yours, g-spot going wild and swelling out of pleasure due to the man’s perfectly appropriate actions and mannerisms. However, and without giving you a warning, Tom suddenly pulled out in order to flip you around- you chest now facing the wall as you were soon to understand that your job was now to bend over for him. His arms had probably grown tired of carrying you, which you acknowledged and understood.

Before he decided to bend you over, his large hands moved up to your breasts from behind your back, caressing and squeezing them with a lot of lustful care before he retracted his hand back to your spine, pressing his palm against your flesh and forcing you to slightly bend over. There wasn’t much space between you and the wall, which therefore only allowed you to fold a little bit. Your own palms collided with the wall as Tom’s hand caressed all the way down to your bum, giving the flesh a gentle slap before allowing his digits to take ahold of his own girth. He guided his tip to your entrance again, taking time through his actions to make sure that he would execute them properly and painlessly. Even through lust, Tom remained a gentleman.

Feeling his hardness slide inside of you again made your legs tremble, yet Tom made sure to hold you up by giving your hips a gentle and reassuring squeeze. The muscles he had developed through the intense hours spent at the gym contracted as he began to move in and out of you as you tried your best to once again remain silent and discreet. Though, a couple of moans eventually had to escape your lips. Tom shushed you respectfully, giving your bum a light spank which stood as a punishment face to your risky behavior. Yet you refused to complain, smile appearing on your parted lips as the older man continued to pound your core.

Eventually, his hips began to stutter, thrusts gaining in sloppiness which was due to his nearing orgasm. This once Tom didn’t manage to hold back his own moans, hums and groans escaping his lips as he respectfully pulled out right before white strings of sperm could be projected against your cervix. Instead, the thick liquid landed on your back, staining your flesh. “Fuck..” he praised, taking a deep breath in before exhaling loudly. His hips continued to gently rock against yours, shaft rubbing against your upper bum as Tom wished to fully get over his orgasm.

You were left emotionally shattered, body still recovering from the intense amount of emotions and sensations which had previously taken possession of your body- brain still attempting to figure out wether this was right or negative for both of your careers.

Y’all asked : I deliver. I hope you managed to enjoy it! Requested tags : @lokis-leah @marianastudiesart @fa-me @lokistoriesblog @sunshineyrosie @delightfulheartdream ❤️

[ Every single share/comment/like means a lot to me as a writer! Please never doubt that! I acknowledge and praise each one of those interactions as they also help to motivate me. Love you guys💜 thanks for the support. ]

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

The Raven

Takeshi Kovacs x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: murder, insinutations to smut, injuries, drinking

Author’s Note: he !!!!!!!! HE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway enjoy

I was gonna wait to post this but I feel like you guys deserve it so here you go lmao

Summary: You and Takeshi both stay at the Raven and get to know each other.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You ran your hand through your hair as you stepped into the Raven. You held your side, feeling the blood seep through your fingers. Poe materialized behind the counter, his eyebrow raised.

“What happened to you?” he asked curiously. You shrugged, a weak smile on your face.

“Nothing that won’t be fixed with a hot shower and a glass of bourbon,” you said through gritted teeth. Poe nodded and walked around the desk and over to the bar. You leaned against the counter, trying not to bleed all over it as you waited.

“Should I provide medical assistance?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I can handle myself.” Poe walked back over to you and handed you the glass. You took it and downed it in one drink. The liquid stung your throat as it always did but it was a welcome feeling after everything you had been through. “I’ll be taking that shower now,” you said as you put the glass down. You were about to turn when you noticed Poe’s face. He looked like he was trying to muster the courage to tell you something. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” he said much too quickly. That meant one thing. There was something that might make you want to leave. You raised an eyebrow.

“Spit it out Poe.” He let out a sigh.

“I have another guest.” You scoffed.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t be so surprised. I run a very nice establishment.” You nodded. You had been the only customer at the Raven for months. It started as just wanting to go under the radar then you ended up liking it there. No one ever came. Poe was good company. You paid a monthly fee instead of a nightly one, he liked you so much.

“Anyone I should know?” you asked, wondering if it was one of your old enemies out to get you here. You hoped it wasn’t. You had no desire to leave. You would have to find a whole new space and you had grown comfortable here.

“No unless you keep friends with Envoys.” Your eyes opened wide and you forgot about the pain in your abdomen.

“An Envoy here? Well Poe, I can’t say you’re boring,” you said and then the pain was back. “As much as I would love to learn more, I really have to stitch this. What room are they in?”

“I can’t disclose that information,” he said. You scoffed, pushing yourself off the desk you were leaning on.

“Come on Poe.”

“I can’t. It’s in my mainframe.” You rolled your eyes.

“Are they on my floor?” He thought about it for a moment and then nodded gently, giving in.

“He is.” You smiled to yourself.

“He. Good to know.” You started to walk toward the elevator. “See you tomorrow Poe!” He waved to you, a fond smile on his face. He wondered if you would like Takeshi. He laughed quietly in the empty room. Takeshi would like you. He didn’t like many people but he imagined Takeshi would quite like you.

====

You brushed through your wet hair gingerly, still in pain from the stitches you had given yourself. Thankfully it wasn’t anything bad. You imagined it wouldn’t bother you at all in a couple months. You looked out the large window in your room and put your hair brush down. You deserved a few hours of shut eye. Maybe you could even sleep in tomorrow if no one came in to try and kill you.

Your mind lingered on the Envoy you were sharing a building with. You didn’t think any existed anymore.

You were about to shut the blinds down so the night sky couldn’t be seen anymore when you noticed something. Smoke. You took your hand off the blinds button and walked to the far side of the window, squinting.

Cigarette smoke coming from the building. So close it probably came from the room next to you. You scoffed. Poe put the Envoy in the room next to you. You imagined him, trying to picture what he may look like. A deadly killer.

You smiled gently to yourself and closed the blinds.

=====

Takeshi shrugged on his pants. The girl Poe had sent up had left ages ago but he had just now gotten around to putting his clothes back on. Tak ran his hand through his hair, taking a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it. He stared out into the city around him, watching the lights turn on in the buildings. The sun had just risen.

The room was so silent he heard the door open next door and shut closed. He perked up. He figured he was the only person staying in the Raven. What kind of person would stay here? Other than him.

He blew out some smoke and walked to the door, opening it without a second thought. You were walking down the hall away from him. He caught only the back of you as you turned the corner.

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way. Let me at least eat breakfast,” you said into the phone you were holding up. Breakfast. That sounded good. He was pretty sure Poe would make him a complimentary breakfast if he asked.

He tossed on a shirt and jacket as he put out his cigarette before going to the elevator. He found you were still waiting, the door opening only as he approached. He had figured he would get a better look at you downstairs but in the elevator was fine too. You hung up the phone and stepped in. He soon followed, making you jump.

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes. The Envoy. He looked uninterested. But handsome. You had to imagine that wasn’t actually his actual sleeve but the one picked out for him had been a good one.

You hit the button for the first level. The doors closed.

“I didn’t think anyone else was staying here,” he said. Even his voice was enticing. You shrugged.

“I was here first.” He smiled a bit.

“Why are you staying at an AI-run hotel?”

“Why are you?” He nodded. He wasn’t getting an answer. That was fine. “Y/N,” you said, not offering a last name. You had to force yourself not to look at him. He thought about giving you only his last name, as he tended to do with people he didn’t trust.

“Takeshi.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing Poe on the other side waiting for you both. His eyes went wide.

“Friends already?” he asked. You scoffed.

“How many rooms does this place have Poe? You could have put us on separate floors at least,” you said, walking forward. Takeshi stepped out as well.

“I like to keep you close in case help is needed.”

“Why would help be needed?” Takeshi asked. Poe eyed him. You eyed both of them. Whatever Takeshi was here for, you imagined it was dangerous.

“Well you’re both high class people. I’m being precautious,” Poe said.

“Breakfast?” you asked Takeshi. He had things to do. He had things to do. He had to leave this place and go find answers, manipulate people, understand the world around him. He didn’t need breakfast.

“I like my eggs over easy.” Poe nodded, smiling.

He knew Takeshi would like you.

====

You had been trying to just go about your day of crime, not think about some man. That wasn’t your style. You didn’t dwell on anything. You couldn’t afford to. You had jobs to do, people to get rid of.

But Takeshi and you had a nice breakfast. Neither of you gave much up about yourselves but it was nice. Talks of the weather, joking about Poe. Simple things.

You walked back into the Raven that night late, like you usually did. You didn’t have any injuries this time around, thankfully. You holstered your gun when you walked in and smiled at Poe.

“You look much better today,” he commented.

“I am. No need for stitches.”

“Your companion doesn’t look as good,” Poe commented offhandedly. You squinted.

“My com-” You scoffed. “Takeshi is not my companion. We just stay at the same hotel,” you explained.

“And share eggs.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Came back today looking awful. Though I’m not allowed to let anyone up in his room myself.”

“I never asked you to let me into his room.” You met Poe’s eyes. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You rode the elevator up to your floor. You walked down the hallway and paused at your door. You put your hand on the handle and kept it there for a moment. Takeshi didn’t need you to help clean up his messes. Breakfast had been fine but it had been brief.

You looked over at his door.

“Damn Poe,” you whispered to yourself, sure he could hear you somehow. You walked to Takeshi's door and knocked. There was some light shuffling and then the door opened. He was standing shirtless before you, a stitching needle in his arm as it bled.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“According to Poe, it’s you I can help,” you said. You gestured to the half stitched injury. “I’m pretty good at that if you want company that isn’t an AI desperate to tear your pants off.” He thought about it for a second. You figured he would turn you down. He didn’t need your help, you knew that. He was perfectly capable. But you had to ask.

He opened the door further and you nodded once, stepping inside. You hadn’t seen any other rooms but yours. It looked like the exact same, minus some touches. He had out bandages and things on the table. He sat down at the chair and you sat down in the one beside him.

“I’ve never been good at stitching,” he admitted.

“We all have our faults,” you said quietly. You scooted the chair closer to him so you could get a better look. Your knee was between his leg and his knee was between yours. You tried not to focus on it. You ran your finger over his bicep and took the needle from him. “What happened?” He gave you a look. “Alright. I understand.” You started to work and remained silent.

Takeshi watched your focused gaze.

“You are good at that,” he said after a couple quiet minutes. You smiled, not looking at him because you were too tuned in.

“I’ve had to learn.” You finished up and leaned back, lifting your shirt enough to show him your stitched abdomen. He leaned back and nodded.

“You’re better company than the AI’s.”

“Don’t say that too loud. Poe has ears everywhere,” you whispered, laughing a bit.

“I don’t think I can hurt his feelings. He’s an AI.” You rolled your eyes.

“They have feelings,” you argued. You stood up. “I hope that heals nicely,” you said gently.

“It will,” he said.

“Goodnight Takeshi.” You started towards the door.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” You turned back to him and nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

====

You didn’t know much about Takeshi but he did open up over the next couple days. You had spent mornings and nights together but you always retreated to your separate rooms before sleeping. You had told him a little about yourself and he shared more about himself.

You liked him.

He liked you.

You sat on his bed, looking out the window.

“I think that building is a sleeve manufacturer,” you said, pointing to one of the tall buildings. He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought that was a cosmetics place.” “Same thing Tak.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. He was laying on the bed, his hands behind his head.

“The one next to it is run by an asshole.” He poured himself a drink off the bottle on his bedside table. You took it from him before he could get a sip, taking a swig and then handing it back to him.

“They’re all run by assholes,” you muttered.

“Is that why you run around killing them?”

“Hey, I wasn’t able to fight in a war against them. It’s the best I can do,” you said honestly. He pursed his lips and shrugged.

“I’d say you’re doing a halfway decent job,” he admitted.

“I try.”

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mention the new cut over your eye but it’s bleeding and now I feel I have to mention it.” He brought a finger up to his eyebrow, looking at the blood. “This sleeve,” he muttered.

“At least it’s pretty,” you said as you got up, grabbing a bandage and coming back to him. You sat down beside him and leaned forward, wiping the blood away and put the bandage on him.

“I can do that,” he said.

“You say that every time I do something and yet you let me keep going,” you muttered. You made sure it was alright and looked him in the eye. You quickly looked away, not letting yourself linger in his eyes. He was too dangerous and he slept with the AI in the building and he killed-

He kissed you before you could finish the thought and it all went out the window because he was a really good kisser. He cupped your cheek, grabbing you around the waist. He moved you closer to him so you were practically in his lap. He sat up and his hands moved down your back.

You pulled away but he kept kissing down your neck as you leaned over the bedside table, hitting the button and closing the blinds.

====

Poe had made the eggs at the same time he did every day. He had always made them for you and just decided to add Takeshi’s when he made yours. It was simple and you were always punctual.

Except today.

He waited patiently and twenty minutes after you usually came down, you and Takeshi entered the ground floor. You yawned, rubbing your neck.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m not complaining Kovacs,” you said. Poe smiled.

“How was your night? The eggs are cold, you’re both late.” Takeshi sat down, taking a drink of the cup Poe left out.

“It was a good night,” he said.

“A decent night,” you teased.

“You sleep well?” Poe asked politely. You nodded stiffly, hiding a smile.

“Very well.”

“You both know I know everything that happens in my hotel right?” Poe asked. Takeshi shrugged.

“Then you should have known when we would come down,” Takeshi said.

“And you should have known it was Takeshi’s fault,” you said.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he muttered. Poe smiled.

“I know you two would like each other.”

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs imagines

254 notes · View notes

seokiie · 4 years

Text

𝙸𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍?

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘉𝘛𝘚 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺-𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.8𝘬

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!!!, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯

On AO3 || part two

Okay.

Okay. You're okay. You'll be fine. You take a deep breath.

Today was like any other day. You'd just gotten out of your last class of the day and you were heading to work. You were a simple college student (as were most of your coworkers) and the barista job you had at the little cafe right off campus was your only source of income. It paid surprisingly well so you never complained.

The last thing you were expecting when you open the glass doors of the coffee shop is to see a camera crew setting up lights and cameras and-

Is that fucking BTS?

Your eyes grow wide and you have to blink a few times to make sure it's real.

"Hey, y/n, what are you staring... at..." The familiar chime of someone else entering the shop snaps you out of your daze. When you turn around, you meet another pair of shocked eyes. They belong to your close friend, who also worked as a barista.

"Are you fucking seeing what I'm seeing right now..?" Your friend points a shaky finger to the seven handsome Korean men talking to the director. You quickly grab her arm and pull it down to her side when you notice one of the men, with curly hair and particularly dark eyes look over to the two of you. You offer an awkward smile and he simply turns back to focus his attention back on the director.

"Fuck, fuck. He looked at us. He saw you pointing." You whisper yell at your friend before grabbing her hand and dragging her behind the counter and into the back room. It was the only safe place left in the entire cafe that wasn't crowded with security and staff.

"Did our manager say anything about a worldwide boy group showing up to our tiny little urban cafe? Because I sure as hell don't remember it." Your friend paces around the small area of the backroom. The place was jammed with unopened packs of coffee beans and various cardboard boxes.

"No. No, I don’t think he did. Do you think we were supposed to come in for work today? What if they kick us out?" You open the door slightly, peering out into the open area of the coffee shop. It looked like the camera crew finally finished setting up and everyone was getting into their positions. "Ah, they're starting."

Now it’s your friend’s turn to grab your hand. Her nails practically dig into your wrist as she drags you out the room and towards where the camera crew is set up. No one seems to pay you two much attention as they're too focused making sure they had the right angles.

"Look, we can see everything from here without getting in the way." The municipal cafe you worked at was wide and open meaning there was lots of rooms for the hand-carved dark oak tables and big comfortable armchairs that littered the area. Your friend effectively pushes you down into one of the chairs before taking a seat across from you. She was right, you could see everything from here. And you were just out of frame.

The recording starts with the Bangtan boys saying something familiar in Korean and the director explaining... something in Korean. Suddenly, you're wishing you had English subtitles in real life.

It doesn't occur to you until various well-known tools and ingredients are placed in front of the seven guys that they're filming a run BTS episode. You probably should've figured that out sooner. As your eyes skim over the numerous appliances, you also figured out what they're doing. They're learning how to make professional handmade coffee. You guess it's safer than letting them use the bigger machines.

As the recording progresses, you find yourself laughing at how bad they are at following directions. You'd think seven guys who were skilled at learning and mastering choreography could follow basic instructions about using a Moka pot. Boy, were you wrong.

But surprisingly enough, one of them is doing pretty damn good. Actually, he's doing really fucking good!

It's Taehyung, you recognize immediately.

Your eyes follow the curly-haired man’s movements closely. His hands are working expertly against the coffee bean grinder. It's mesmerizing and oh, so satisfying watching the way the veins in his hands and arms bulge as he pushes the top of the grinder down to activate the machine. You bite your lip as your brain slowly flooded with images of those hands around your neck or the way his big hands would cover the expanse of your thighs. Have you always had a hand kink? If not, you do now.

Your eyes drift upward, stopping briefly to admire how sexy he looks in an apron. He's wearing a white button-down shirt underneath it with about four buttons undone. The sliver of skin showing has you reeling.

And then your eyes stop at his face. That beautiful jawline, the perfect curl of his hair, and that dark, hooded look in his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was looking at... at...

Holy shit, he was looking at you.

You watch as a smirk forms on his face. He'd obviously caught you eyeing him up and at the moment, he was absolutely eating up the way you shifted under his inculpative glare. You nervously look around as if saying, 'you're looking at me? Are you sure?' and he lets out a little laugh in response, his wicked smirk turning into a genuine smile before his focus is back on his coffee beans.

You let out a breathless sound.

Is this what people call a 'y/n moment'?

The recording continues for the next hour as they tried different methods of making coffee. You alternated between watching the show and talking to your friend but throughout that time, you kept feeling a pair of eyes on you, especially when your attention shifted to your friend in front of you. As she talks about how annoying some guy in her psychology class is, you can practically feel Taehyung’s eyes boring through the side of your head and into your soul.

Maybe you just thought he was looking at you. You were such an ordinary person. What would Taehyung- rich, sexy, famous, talented Taehyung want with a boring girl like you?

But you still wanted to test it. You wanted to see if he was really looking at you. If he was staring at you so intently, it had to mean something right?

You look around you to make sure you're not in the line of sight of any cameras before standing up, your friend stops her story to ask where you're going.

"Not going anywhere..." You stand beside your chair and adjust your skirt that had ridden up from you sitting down. "I just wanna stretch real quick."

Taehyung watched as you stood up, his eyes were drawn to the insane amount of thigh you were showing. If your skirt had ridden up any higher, he's sure he'd get a good look at something he's not supposed to see. His grip on the table in front of him tightens at the thought and he's lucky no one notices the way his knuckles turn white.

In your opinion, your outfit wasn't anything special. It was a simple red crop top paired with a black pencil skirt that hugged your waist and hips nicely. Now that you were standing up, Taehyung could get a good look at your body.

You raise your arms up slightly so your hands were behind your head. The action inadvertently brings your crop top up higher and pulls it tighter against your chest. You weren't completely sure if Taehyung was still watching, but to top it all off you tilt your head back slowly, letting your face twist into one of pleasure as you show off how amazing it feels to stretch your body.

When you open your eyes and look back towards Taehyung, you almost stumble back into your chair. To be completely honest, you didn't think he'd have any sort of reaction but you were greatly mistaken.

His lips were wet and parted slightly as if he'd just licked them and his eyes were iniquitous and clouded with lust. He was looking at you as if the only thing stopping him from taking you apart was the bright flashing red light on the cameras.

His stare has you stumbling back into your seat, your eyes not leaving his for a second. It feels like you're locked in place, like you're not allowed to look away until he orders you to.

"You're so extra." Your friend’s voice is kind of distant and quiet but it's all you need to snap out of the weird limbo between you and Taehyung.

"Huh?"

"I said you're extra. You stretched and made it look like you were having the best orgasm of your life." She laughs and you roll your eyes in response. When you look back at Taehyung, he's conversing with his bandmates like nothing even happened.

The filming finishes up rather quickly. The time you don't spend gushing at the seven men, you spend quietly squealing with your coworker friend. It feels as if it's over as quickly as it started, though, and as the camera crew starts to load their things into their vans, your manager instructs you to get to your station. He tells your coworker to focus on opening the shop once everyone leaves and she walks away with an "ai ai, cap'n".

The weird ordeal with Taehyung completely slips your mind as you walk behind the counter and put your apron on. First, you had to check to make sure all the machines were working and then you could-

"Hey."

The voice is deep and very familiar.

Fuck.

"Hi! I mean, hi." Your brain is a jumbled mess as you turn around and you're greeted by a tall, handsome man on the other side of the counter. Taehyung approached you. Taehyung is talking to you. Breathe.

"You're, uhh..." You watch expectantly as the man searches for the words. Somehow, his thinking face makes you feel a little less intimidated. "You're a coffee woman. You make... coffee here." He concludes and at first, you're a bit confused until you figure out what he's trying to say. You let out a little laugh.

"Yeah, I work here. I'm a barista." Taehyung tilts his head at your words.

"Barista... Ah, sorry, my English. It's not good." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and your heart practically swells in your chest. He's so cute, oh god. He's so cute and hot at the same time.

"No, no! It's okay!" You raise your hands up in a calming motion before silence falls between you two. You're first to speak up.

"Should we- can I- do you want me to make you something?" You mentally slap yourself for your stutter. Taehyung finds it endearing.

"Make me coffee?" Taehyung asks to make sure he understood you correctly. You nod in response. "You can make Americano?"

"Yeah, I can make you an Americano!" You turn to load the right beans into the grinder but a quick 'jamkkanman!' stops you in your tracks. That’s a Korean word you understand. You look back at him and raise your eyebrows.

"I want to watch, uhh, I want to learn how to do it. Not-Korean style." His smile is nervous, worried if he said the right thing. Without much thought, you usher him behind the counter. You weren't allowed to let customers behind the counter but you're sure the higher-ups would let you make an exception.

"Ok, I'll show you. First, you have to measure the beans." You say simply as you pour a couple of grams of coffee beans on the scale. As your adding and reducing the beans to get the right amount, you're starting to become hyperaware of the man standing behind you. You left space for him to stand at your side but he still chose to stand directly behind you. It was getting hard to concentrate when you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Those are too many beans, you know? This is how America does it?" Alarms start going off in your head as he steps closer (if that was even possible). His chest was pressed flush against your back now as he peered over your shoulder.

"N-no, uh... I put too many..." You try to take out some of the coffee beans and put them back in the bag but all you can focus on is the way Taehyung's hands casually find themselves on your hips. Ok, it was certain now. He was doing this on purpose.

"Hmm, too little now. I think maybe..." His voice drops to a whisper and his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. You bite your lip to suppress a moan threatening to crawl out your throat. "... Maybe you're distracted."

"I'm not... fuck." The bag of beans slip out your hands and fall onto the scale when Taehyung pulls your hips back against his. There's something heavy pressing against you, something that you would only compare to a log.

"Mm, pretty girl with a dirty mouth." He growls and rocks your hips slowly against his, pulling you against him in slow, teasing motions. Your body is starting to heat up and you're not sure if its because Taehyung is essentially fucking you through layers of your clothes or because of his subtle compliment.

"Is there... eunmilhan place?" Taehyung's grip on your hips loosens and you turn around to give him a confused look.

"Place where there's no one?" His eyebrow raises and your eyes light up. He was asking for a more secluded area. You knew just the place.

Very few people had a key to the backroom which made it the perfect place to hide away with the idol. Speaking of which, you're about to fuck an idol. Not just any idol but Kim Taehyung. Maybe that fact hasn't hit you yet. You wonder if he'll make you sign an NDA after.

You flick the light on in the small room before locking the door. The last thing you need is for a coworker to walk in. That would be especially bad.

As soon as you slip the keys into the pocket of your apron, Taehyungs hands are gripping both your wrists and bringing them above your head, effectively slamming you back against the door in the process.

"Taehyung-" Your head tilts back against the door when the curly-haired man presses his thigh between your legs. You were so pent up and touch starved. You were just thankful he was giving you something, anything.

"Hey, you know, in Korea... younger girl has to call older guy oppa. It shows respect." The pressure Taehyung is putting on your clit has you soaking through your panties and your brain struggling to keep up with his words.

"More, ah, please!" With Taehyung holding your wrists above your head and his knee between your leg, you're practically trapped against the door. It makes rubbing against him futile.

"Aishh, such a bad girl. So disobedience. Maybe I shouldn't touch you..." Your eyes shoot open at those words. Not only did you and Taehyung have so little time but the thought of him leaving you unfinished was simply unacceptable.

"Taehyung, please, please!" You whine into the crook of his neck but he doesn't let up. What more does he want from you?

"Call me oppa." Taehyung’s fingers twist themselves into the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back so you were looking straight into his half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You open your mouth and close it in response.

You weren't completely sure if he was being serious but the way his lips parted, his eyes dropping down to your mouth and staring at them expectantly, it was hard to believe he was joking.

You licked your dry lips and sure enough, Taehyung follows the movement.

"O-oppa?" You feel a bit awkward saying the word seriously, your accent, or lack thereof making you feel self-conscious.

"So cute and shy. Weren't you teasing me so confident earlier?" Taehyung smirks as he kisses down your jaw and you subconsciously let your head tilt to the side, inviting his pretty lips to your neck. "Tell oppa what you want."

"I want you- I want oppas fingers inside me... please?" A growl leaves Taehyungs throat at your words and he says something in Korean that you couldn't quite catch. Almost immediately, he's using both his hands to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you up easily. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck. The way he has you pressed back against the door makes holding you up effortless and comfortable.

Taehyung slides your pencil skirt up till it bunches up at your waist and your soaked panties are exposed. He makes a sound of approval.

"You're so wet already, shibal. I want to eat it so bad but no time. Open." Two of Taehyungs fingers are prodding at your lips before you part them slightly and he's sliding them in. Your tongue works deftly around the digits and Taehyungs eyes don't leave yours for a second.

It all happens so quickly, Taehyung pushing your panties to the side in one easy motion, then a pair of spit-soaked fingers slipping into you with ease. You let out a moan of pleasure and a bit of surprise when the two fingers curl inside you. After easily finding your g-spot, Taehyung doesn't hold back. He fucks his fingers into you with quick, sharp motions, scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out even farther. Lord knows you'll need it.

"Ah, Fuck, Taehyung..." As soon as the needy whines leave your mouth, Taehyung is pulling his fingers out of you with a wet foop. He licks the fingers soaked with your juices, a look of satisfaction on his face before he shakes his head.

"Ah ah, what did I say to call me?" He raises an eyebrow expectantly, his thumb coming up to swipe across your lips in a slow, carnal manner that has a spark of something igniting low in your belly.

"Oppa... oppa, sorry! Please fuck me." Taehyungs thumb drops down to your lower lip, pushing it down slightly so they were parted before pressing a starved kiss to your lips. You let out a mix between a sigh and a moan, relieved to finally have his lips on yours. His tongue works expertly in your mouth and you can't help but whimper, the sound muffled by his lips.

"God, you're sexy when you beg. I can't wait anymore. Can I put it inside you?" Taehyung's hand grips your chin and tilts your head up just a bit so you were looking into his eyes again. His eyes sparkled with something, if you didn't know any better you'd think it was desperation.

You nod your head quickly. At this point, Taehyungs cock felt like your life force and without it you might die.

Taehyung lets you palm at the very defined bulge in his pants before unzipping his slacks and pulling his underwear down just enough to remove his cock from the confines of his boxers and holy shit.

It's massive.

Taehyung's cock is big and heavy in your hands. It's thick and lengthy and the longer you stare at it the more it twitches with interest.

"Ah, it's embarrassing... if you stare..." Taehyung bites his lip as his length jerks upward, blobs of precum beading up at his tip.

"It's so- what if- I don’t know if it can fit..." You stare down in awe. You've never seen anyone so... well endowed? You're kind of scared he might split you in half.

"Wah, a lot say that, you know? But they can take it!" Taehyung looks up at you with an almost innocent smile on his face, a hint of red still on his cheeks and at the tip of his ears. "Your pussy wraps prettily around my fingers so... so I want to see it... I want to see it wrap prettily around my cock..."

You're a bit shocked at his lewd words but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. Reluctantly, you brace your arms on his shoulders, perching yourself right above Taehyung's length as he angles it towards your folds. His other hand is gripping your ass and effectively spreading you open further.

"Are you ready? I'll put it inside now." He sounds awfully polite for someone about to literally rearrange your guts. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and let out a quiet 'Mhm'.

You can feel yourself throbbing as Taehyung eases just the head of his cock inside of you. How is it that you already felt so stretched? You whimper against his neck, trying your best to stay quiet as sparks of pain and pleasure surge through you.

It would be a lie to say Taehyung wasn't having as hard of a time as you were. He wanted so desperately to just pull you down onto his cock and fuck you ruthlessly into the door but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. His hand trembles against your ass as he struggles to sit you down on his length slowly.

"Fuck, so big, you're so big, oppa.." You bite down at the skin between Taehyungs neck and collarbone and he lets out a low groan in response, squeezing your ass in an attempt to keep you from sliding all the way down onto him.

His tip had just barely made it past your entrance and despite some of his length already being inside, you already felt so full. There's no way he'd be able to fit inside you completely-

Your jumbled train of thought is cut off suddenly by the doorknob beside you jerking rapidly, followed by a series of rhythmic knocks on the door. In a moment of sudden panic, Taehyung's hand, the one that was holding you up, snaps up and presses against the door like it might open at any second.

But if Taehyung's hand wasn't holding you up anymore...?

"Ahh!! Ahah! Fuck, Taeh-" Instantaneously, you're dropped onto Taehyung's cock, his length filling you up completely and sending waves of pleasure and pain through you as his cockhead jabbed tenaciously at your cervix. At that, you're letting out a series of uncontrollably loud moans and he's slapping a hand over your mouth.

"Y/n? Are you in there? What happened?" It's your coworker’s voice. Fuck. The door handle jiggles some more and Taehyung's making an urgent face at you. He removes his hand from your mouth slowly, making sure not to move too much so you don't make a 'suspicious' sound.

"Ha-huh? I'm, fuck, I'm in here. Getting... espresso beans." Your brain is a jumbled mess and you're honestly surprised you were able to get the words out semi-coherently.

"Uh... okay? Grab some milk as well when you're done." You hear light steps walking away from the door and Taehyung can finally let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding.

"You're okay? Does it hurt?" Behind the thick haze of desire in his eyes, there's worry. You'd feel thankful if not for the sharp pain curling around your lower abdomen and shooting through your body.

"Hurts, Oppa... Please move." He was so big inside you and every time you shifted he was pressing against a new spot that you didn't even know existed. Not only that, but the tip of his cock was prodding at your cervix and you needed him to move.

He follows your commands almost immediately as if he was waiting for those exact words, leaning you back against the door completely before pistoning his hips into you at a rate you would not describe as leisurely.

Taehyung's fucking into you with enough force that each thrust has you sliding up and down against the door, accompanied by the door rattling quietly every time he pulled out and trusted back in. Your nails dig helplessly into his back as you let out wanton moans against his neck, an almost fruitless attempt at trying to stay quiet.

"So tight and warm. Feel so good inside you." Taehyungs lets out an airy moan, his breath fanning against your ear every time he fucked into you. "So loud, too. You want, hnng, want for them to catch us?"

One of Taehyung's hands finds itself in your hair, pulling your head back roughly so you were looking back at him with dazed eyes. The action almost felt intimate, the way he was staring at you with so much hunger as he drilled you against the door, the way his eyes dropped down to your mouth as you bit your lip to suppress a moan.

"More, more! Ha-ah, Taehyung, I'm about- gonna-" The words stumble from your mouth breathlessly and Taehyung lets out a mix between a growl and a laugh, pulling your hair to the side so your neck was fully exposed for him.

"So bad, so demanding. Did you forget my name? Already?" Taehyung presses faint kisses to your jaw before trailing lower. You plead when Taehyung sucks a light hickey into your neck, licking it over as if to soothe it. "Don't you dare come."

It's an order but his cock is filling you up so nicely, squeezing against every single one of your erogenous zones even when he was simply pulling out to thrust back in. He's pulsing inside you and you can practically feel him in your throat. How does he expect you not to come??

"Oppa! Oppa, please! Fuck, I'm- I can't hold it-" You tried your best to hold off but you were fighting a losing battle. His cock was abusing that special spot inside you, pounding it with every move of his hips and it was exactly that that pushed you over the edge. Well, that and the feeling of him sucking constant hickeys into your collarbone.

"Ileon jenjang..." Taehyung whines as you tighten around him. White blotches cloud your vision as your orgasm curls in your abdomen and washes over you like a wave. "Wanna finish inside... wanna fill- fill you up... want it so bad... but can't."

Taehyung's words become less coherent and start to switch between English and Korean the closer he gets until he's pulling out and breathlessly instructing you to get on your knees, still pumping himself quickly as you follow the order.

"Wanted- wanted to come on that pretty face as soon as I seen- saw you this morning. Shibal! Open your- open your mouth, jagi." Post orgasm bliss was still thrumming through your body as you looked up at Taehyung through your eyelashes. His teeth were clenched tightly, a low growl escaping from his throat as he looked down at you and pumped himself faster, harder.

The picture of Taehyung throwing his head back, opening and closing his mouth with inaudible moans as he squeezed his cock harder is one you'll never forget. Even if you wanted to.

Ropes and ropes of translucent, sticky cum shoot at your face, some of it landing on your lips and cheeks but most of it landing on your tongue. You make a satisfied sound when you swallow it all down, licking away the excess on your lips.

"Fucking sexy." Taehyung laughs, patting the top of your head gently before gripping your chin and pulling you up in a deep kiss. You'd be lying if you said it didn't catch you off guard. Guys never usually kissed you after coming in your mouth. The way his tongue works has your body flushing and your head thoughtless. You let out a quiet moan into his mouth.

When Taehyung's lips separate from yours, a string of saliva is the only thing still connecting you and your legs suddenly feel weak again. You and the taller man stare at each other for what felt like hours, just examining how wrecked you two were.

"Ah, the time! We're leaving now. I should leave first." Taehyung is the first to pull away, using his thumb to wipe away any of the clear substance still lingering on your face. You pull your lips into a slight pout before soothing your skirt down with your hands. Having sex with an idol, you knew it'd end like this but you were still allowed to be disappointed.

"I don't want manager-nim to find out this happened. It can be our little secret. Here." Taehyung rustles through his pants and hands you his phone. You're confused. What does he want you to do with his phone?

After a beat of silence and you holding his phone idly, he finally speaks.

"Your number."

"Seriously?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked.

"Seriously. If I visit here again, I'll call. We can meet." He fixes his pants and adjusts his clothes to look less sloppy, less like he just had the best sex of his life.

"There's so much else I want to do to you."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

8. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

25. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see.” “So?”

marketing director!mingyu x f!reader

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: a little bitt of angst, a little bit of fluff, suggestive themes like voyeurism briefly mentioned

note: ngl, I’m sorry not my best work but I TRIED. Let me know your thoughts it would really help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.xx

masterlist || prompt list

Kim Mingyu - Marketing Director

The nameplate on the door sends a shiver up your spine, knowing that the man you had accidentally pulled in for a drunk kiss the night before during the weekly company bonding dinner, was sitting just behind the door. He was pissed, had pushed you away, made a big deal in wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust. Causing you to sober up quickly and regretting it.

It’s no secret that God had taken his sweet time when creating Kim Mingyu Marketing Director of GoSe Enterprises. He put all the Greek Gods you spent your free time reading about to shame. You’ve been crushing on him since he sat in the cubicle next to yours for years. The two of you had developed a nice easy-going friendship. He was sweet, funny, and always offered amazing advice, both on personal and professional matters. You were practically head over heals for him.

Then the promotion came, granting Mingyu with an office on the southside of the company building. Huge windows overlooking the city below, and the office. A nice fancy gold nameplate with his new job description underneath it. Naturally, the two of you grew apart, ripped from one another without a warning. He was no longer rooting for you and your ideas. Instead, he was the one turning down all your project proposals. He was the one assigning you the revision tasks he knew you hated doing. He was the reason for the random spikes of anxiety throughout the workday. He was no longer your friend, he was your supervisor. His soft demeanor and fleeting touches were nowhere to be found. Lost amongst piles of paperwork surrounding his desk.

You took a deep breath holding your laptop close against your chest, eyeing the nameplate on the large dark wooden door that took your Mingyu away from you a year ago. You were nervous. He only ever called you down to his office if you had a proposal revision due, which this time you didn’t.

The last idea you had pitched two weeks ago was turned down before you could finish your sentence during your first PowerPoint slide. He didn’t even give you the chance to improve it, simply said, “trash it, it’s not worth wasting your time when it’s not a plausible option.” So, the only other option left and the one that made sense was your slip-up the night before. He had called you down to ask for your resignation letter for breaking company policy.

“If you keep staring at the door it won’t magically open,” Chan spoke next to you making you jump. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged sheepishly and opened the door, walking in with confidence. “Mingyu I have the copies you asked for.”

You filed in after him, situating yourself close to the wall and by the door, while Mingyu instructed Chan on where to set down the copies. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, watching as the two of them laughed about some inside joke they had. The anger along with jealousy boiled with fever deep within you.

This was the problem. Mingyu had only changed when it came to you. With everyone else he was the same Mingyu you once had the pleasure of knowing, and that not only confused you but it made you angry. “Are we still on for guys' night this friday?” Chan asked the older male pointing finger guns at him.

“Yes, of course, drinks are on Seungcheol this time, which makes my wallet really happy.” Mingyu clapped Chan on the back and led him towards his office door. “Same bar with the cute bartender?” He emphasized, his angry gaze falling on you for a second.

Subtle you silently scoffed rolling your eyes, holding your laptop as close to your body as humanly possible.If he didn’t make his distaste towards you obvious by his reaction last night, he surely made it painfully clear just now.

“That’s the one.” Chan nodded, sending you a pitying look, one you didn’t need. You knew you were fucked.

Everyone knew about your painful crush on Mingyu. Everyone had seen you grab the collar of his dark maroon shirt last night and plant a wet alcohol filled kiss against his lips. Everyone had seen the way he reacted, yanking his suit jacket off the back of his chair and walking out of the bar pissed. So, you didn’t need the various pitying looks you were getting since the moment you walked in that morning.

“Alright then I’ll see you then, don’t forget to turn in your proposal by tomorrow night, Jeonghan keeps bugging me about it.”

Chan sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, “shit, I’ll have it done by tomorrow morning.” He said quickly before speed walking back to his cubicle. Leaving you alone to face the problem you had caused.

Mingyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door to his office, “I knew he forgot.” He mumbled before straightening his back, the scowl you were used to seeing appeared on his face once again. He walked past you to his desk, taking a seat next to his name plate. You stayed put, looking down at the floor, only counting the tiny dust bunnies that were visible to your eye.

Mingyu cleared his throat, “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

You raised your head pushing yourself off the wall and walked to him. Stopping behind one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Don’t need to, It’s my fault for breaking company policy. I’ll hand in my resignation letter to Jeonghan tonight.” You kept your eyes trained on the skyscraper reflecting through the window behind him. Anything was better than looking at him right now.

He sighed, running a frustrated hand across his face. He pushed himself away from his desk and took a step forward. “I didn’t call you in here to ask you to resign.”

Confused, you tore your eyes from the building behind him and looked at him. The bags under his eyes that had started to form from lack of sleep and overwork were now more prominent than before. It made you wonder if he hadn’t slept last night because of you, but then you remembered the huge project he was currently working on, so you casted that thought aside.

“Oh then...I-umm, why am I here?”

“Do you have any idea the position you put me in last night?” He furrowed his brows, placing a knee down on the chair in front of him. He leaned his forearms against the back of it, closing the distance you purposely kept between the two of you.

You took a step back, scrunching your nose, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to resign. If I’m not getting penalized then why am I here?” You dropped your arms in defeat. “If you called me in here to tell me you’re not interested in me, you don’t have to. I already know.” You finished swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of your throat.

“That’s the problem.” Mingyu pointed an accusing finger at you before retreating it. “I am interested in you, more than interested in you. I have strong feelings for you and I can’t act on them because I don’t want everyone to think that I favor you, because I do.”

I’m dreaming, you thought pressing the palm of your hand against your heated forehead. You had to be dreaming, life has never been this giving to you, “wait I’m confused...you ran out last night, literally pushed me away, disgusted. Do you have any idea how that felt? I had to sit down and face our co-workers with a fake smile on my face because I didn’t want them to see me cry.”

Mingyu’s face softened, he gripped the back of the chair hard enough for his knuckles to almost turn white. “I know and I’m sorry but if I had stayed then I would’ve kept kissing you. You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that.” He dropped his head releasing a shuddering breath. “Every time we stayed here working over time, the only thing I could think about was how easy it’d be if I just leaned over a little more and kissed you. No one would be around, no one would see, it would just be our little secret. But the stupid company policy always seemed to find it’s way into my head and I never let myself cross that boundary.”

“Mingyu w-why are you telling me this now? Even if we have feelings for one another, my job is important to me and I don’t want to risk getting fired because we’re together.” You blinked rapidly, now was not the time to cry. You could cry later in the communal bathroom across the hall, or on the bus ride home, just anywhere but here.

“Well,” Mingyu rounded the corner of the chairs and made his way to you, finally closing the distance. “I talked to Jeonghan -”

“Wait you told him we kissed?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the realization hit you. Of course, Mingyu wasn’t going to fire you, he was saving himself the burden and having Jeonghan do it for him.

He chuckled, placing a hand against your hip making you jump, “Just how drunk were you last night? Jeonghan was there when it happened. He called me and threatened to fire me for leaving you the way I did.” He whispered, circling his arm around you and pulling you close, making you stumble from the sudden impact. “H’said, fuck company policy and that I was stupid for following it when no one does.”

“Wait are you saying th -”

“Yes we can be together as long as we keep our work and personal lives separate, so, no sex in my office.”

You gasped hitting his chest lightly, this lewd side of Mingyu was one you had never seen before. Or at least you had but in a much more subtle way. “Well of course, we can’t do that. That was never going to be part of the deal.” The thought of him pressing you against his desk after hours sent a thrilling shiver up your spine. You bit your lip, shaking your head. No, not allowed, focus.

“Why not? I’ve slept on the couch here a few times. It's pretty comfortable.” He reassured, hooking his thumb in the belt loops of your dark slacks. “And your ass looks so good in these pants, I literally have to make it my mission to not stare.”

“I’m flattered, I guess. But look around Gyu.” His gaze followed your hand as you waved it around in front of him. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see -”

He pulled you closer, eloping your body in both of his arms, “so?” He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing against his lips. You had forgotten how much he liked to tease you.

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “were you not listening to what I was saying everyone can see.” You emphasized, poking his cheek with your index finger.

Mingyu bit his bottom lip trying to suppress his laughter. He forgot how easily flustered you could get, especially when he would say something out of pocket to you. Sure, half of the time you would ignore him, sometimes you would simply roll your eyes, focused on whatever you were working on. Other times he would leave you at a loss for words.

“Frankly, I don’t see the problem. We can just wait until everyone goes home and then give whoever is walking by a free show.” He finished raising his eyebrows suggestively at you.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away and walked to his door. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about having sex with me and you haven’t even asked me out on a date or to be your girlfriend.” You pushed his door open and walked out, “the audacity you have Kim Mingyu.”

He felt panic surge through him, his big mouth getting the best of him once again. “Woah woah wait I was getting there, you didn’t give me the chance to ask.” He followed you out the door, trying to keep up with your hasty steps. Who knew you could walk so fast in heels.

Once you were at your cubicle you sat down, placing your laptop on top of your desk, waking it up. “Too late, company policy says we have to keep our work and personal lives separate, guess you’re going to have to wait a while.” You look at the digital clock on your desk, “Five and a half hours to be exact.”

Mingyu threw his head back, frustrated. As much as he enjoyed teasing you, he had forgotten that you were equally as evil if not worse. He had waited to ask you out for more than two years and now that he could, he literally couldn’t wait five and a half hours.

“Friday, after work?” He whispered, covering the side of his mouth with his hand to make it look less suspicious. It wasn’t working.

“What about guys night and that cute bartender?” You smirked, clicking around your computer opening the files you were working on earlier.

Mingyu took a deep breath and grabbed the back of your chair, swinging it around ripping you away from your computer screen. “Fuck guys night honey, I’m taking you home, cooking you the best meal you’ve ever had and then -” He stopped peaking over your cubicle. Everyone that had tuned in to your debacle, quickly scrambled to focus on whatever they were doing before you and Mingyu walked in. He nodded once before leaning down, his lips close to your ear, whispering, “then I’m going to fuck you against my window so everyone can see that you’re finally mine.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning.You put your hand on his chest and leaned in, placing a soft kiss against the shell of his ear. “Kinky, ask me again in five and a half hours.” You gave his cheek a gentle pat before pushing him away, returning your attention to what you were doing.

Mingyu grumbled, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his office. You stifled a laugh, the butterflies you had once felt for him returning.

“You know I heard all of that.” Soonyoung spoke, peeking his head into your cubicle, his eyes wide like he had just seen a ghost, or something utterly disgusting.

Fuck! Mingyu! You whined silently before turning to face your cubicle mate. “I’ll buy you lunch if you pretend like you didn’t hear anything.”

He put a pensive hand on his chin before sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Deal, I suddenly have been overcome with amnesia, whatever happened in the last five minutes I do not remember, that’s only if you promise to also finish revising this project proposal for me.” He waved the large packet of white copy paper in front of you.

You groaned, “that wasn’t part of the deal we just shook on.”

He sucked in air, “I don’t remember that.” He pouted. “I have amnesia, remember.”

“Fuck fine.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu imagines #mingyu drabbles #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #nobody does it like you do #ndilyd #im so nervous to post this lol #hope you all enjoy #cw: past drug abuse #cw: minor character death #cw: violence

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (3/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of smut, mentions of underage drinking

Part Summary: Sam and Y/N are on The Late Late Show to promote The Seasons of Life.

Masterlist

Before the interview, Nicole practices questions with me so I don’t get blindsided. Meanwhile, Sam and his manager, Steven, practice talking about our upcoming photo shoot for Vanity Fair. Steven is much more laid back than Nicole. Sam is free to do whatever he pleases. The country sees him as an average twenty-something. If he ever messed up he would be forgiven. Nicole emphasizes to me whenever she can that I have no room for error. I must be a saint as “America’s Sweetheart.”

There’s a knock at the door to our dressing room and Steven opens it. A man with a check board and a headset instructs, “Ms. Voss, Mr. Merka you’ll be on in five. If you could follow me.”

“We’ll be right off camera if you need us!” Nicole informs me and Steven agrees with a hum.

“Have fun guys!” he adds.

Sam holds the door for me and the two of us follow the man down the hall into backstage. Sam takes my hand as a precaution, just in case the chaos might separate us. Through double doors, we enter backstage and we’re stopped behind where we’re meant to enter. Loud music begins to echo from the stage and I recognize the song as one of Machine Gun Kelly’s. He’s all the rage now, one of those rockstars that girls fifteen and up obsess over. I don’t have much space left in my mind to obsess with everything going on. As we wait, I bop and sway my head back and forth to the beat absentmindedly.

The man says over his shoulder, “he’s great huh!”

I frowned confused, “wait, is he performing live?”

The man raises an eyebrow as if the answer is obvious. “Yeah, his interview was a few minutes ago. I’m surprised you didn’t cross paths when you got here.” He’s then pulled away by a lady dressed in all black. “I’ll right back! Stay right here!”

I scoff under my breath, the dude treated me like a dingus.

“Well, he was friendly” Sam mutters sarcastically under his breath.

“Right! Geez, he’s what? Only around four years older than you? At least he looked it. My bad for not knowing I’m apparently in the same building as a god!”

Sam snickers but covers his mouth since we’re not allowed to be loud. The song ends and the crowd goes wild on the other side.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Machine Gun Kelly!” The applause goes on and on with James attempting to speak over it into the camera. “After the break, we’ll have the breakout stars from the hottest show of the decade The Seasons of Life, Y/N Voss, and Sam Merka! So don’t go anywhere!”

The audience gets loud at the sound of our names and a shot of adrenaline rushes through me. People rush around backstage to get the music equipment off the set. Sam and I move up against the wall so people can get through. The crew is yelling to make the switch quick. Propping myself up against the wall, I watch the chaos happening. Sam leans against the wall and faces me. I don’t mind the tight quarters though. He acts like a wall, blocking me from the craziness.

“It never gets like this on set,” Sam says, scanning the stage.

“That’s because we don’t film live,” I remind him with a chuckle.

My arms cross over my chest and Sam props his elbow on my shoulder. If this was a photoshoot, this would be a great shot of us. We’re being ourselves, depending on each other as per usual. We’re comfortable with one another. To kill time, I glance around as people move about backstage. My eyes meet a lengthy, bleach blonde, tattoo-covered musician walking off stage. He instantly goes for the guitar case against the far wall in the corner. As if he could feel me looking, his attention snaps away from his guitar and toward me. His focused features gently fall as he stares at me from across the busyness of the show. A chill shoots up my spine and spreads across my face. Instantly, I'm drawn in and can't find the means to look away.

Sam steals my attention when he straightens up in my side view. “We’re on,” he informs me.

I immediately bring to focus and adjust my floral pencil skirt to appear put together.

The man from before leads us up to where he left us last. “Okay, here’s the deal. James will announce your names. There will be cheers, you will walk out together and sit on the couch. The order in which you sit doesn’t matter.” He pauses to press on his headset, “sure, alright, one minute.”

I shift my head to the side and yet again I see them, the same pair of eyes that made me freeze. I quickly snap my attention forward as though I’ve been caught red-handed. He’s not what I had expected. I’ve heard of Machine Gun Kelly, who hasn’t? I’ve seen pictures here and there. I’ve heard a song or two. Never in a million did I ever imagine we would meet eyes and he would make me stop breathing for a second. It was nothing short of groundbreaking. It’s dangerous and immaculate at the same time.

Soon, the noise of the audience dies down to signal the end of the commercial break. Sam and I are told to walk out so we cross through the corridor. Sam leads and reaches his hand back for me to take. I do so mindlessly since it’s what we always do. We wave to the audience and James stands up to greet us. He hugs Sam and they exchange a few words. I keep on waving to the audience and point towards a girl who has a shirt with the show’s title on it. Sam moves over so James and I can say hello.

“Hi, James! How are you?” I greet as we embrace.

“Excellent, how are you, Sweetheart?” He charms.

“Great! Excited to be here!” I gush as I shuffle to the side to settle on the couch beside Sam.

“Thirty seconds!” A man, whom I assume is the producer, announced loudly.

I sit down next to Sam on the light blue velvet couch. He sits back and crosses his arm over the back of the couch behind me then slides it down to rest over my shoulders. I lean into his side, crossing my legs toward him.

“Five seconds!” James sits down in his black desk chair next to Sam and looks into the camera. He’s given the signal and he lights up. “I’m joined here by the two biggest young stars of the decade, Y/N Voss and Sam Merka!” The audience applauds loudly and I wave to all of them. James turns to us with a bright grin. “First off, how are you two?”

“We’re great, couldn’t be better!” Sam answers with a charming smile. He takes my hand and I rest them on my lap instinctively.

At the start of the series, our management and the show’s team encouraged us to be mildly affectionate in public situations to promote interest in our tv counterparts. Since then, it’s come so naturally to us because as friends we genuinely feel better when we have physical contact when on display. We’re security blankets for one another.

James continues, “you two play the power couple, Hollyn and Elliot, on the hit show The Seasons of Life, better known simply as Seasons. It’s all anyone is talking about lately! Has all the publicity changed your lives at all?”

Nervously, I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear before I speak. “I can’t speak for Sam, but at least for me, I answer with a confident “yes!” The Seasons of Life has changed every aspect of my life. When we first started filming the first season, I was still living in South Carolina. I went to a normal high school and had to travel back and forth between here and there. Back then, no one really knew of me. I was your average teenage girl trying to have the best of both worlds.”

James nods, seemingly fascinated by my response.

Sam smiles in agreement, switching his sight between James and myself. “My story is basically the same except I was in college studying law.”

“That’s right!” James perks up, “There’s a decent age gap between the two of you!”

We glance at each other and nod, both of us grinning.

“Does that make the more romantic scenes between Hollyn and Elliot harder?” James inquires.

“No, not at all” I answer, squeezing Sam’s hand.

“Y/N has always acted with such maturity and grace that she makes it unbelievable easy onset. The eight years feel nearly nonexistent.”

“We haven’t had too many extremely romantic scenes,” I add jokingly, looking fondly at Sam.

He meets my gaze and hums in agreement. “Have to build up that suspense!”

James laughs at Sam’s remark and goes on with his questions. “Last year, during the season finale, Twitter blew up because your characters finally got together! And had that bow-chicka-wow-wow scene,” James wiggles his eyebrows. The audience cheers in excitement. Everyone was over the moon about the scene. “Y/N, what was going through your mind during that scene?”

“Sam, Jonathan, and the rest of the Seasons family never fail to make me feel so secure onset. For that scene, in particular, Jonathan made sure it was just the three of us on set so that space felt relaxed. It was my first time ever filming a sex scene of that magnitude and I was so lucky to have this fella right here to help me,” I gush as I place my hand on Sam’s knee with a pat.

“That’s lovely,” James feeds into the sappiness that the audience eats up. “Was there ever talk of getting a double for you?”

“I told our director, the producers, everyone that only I can do the scene. It didn’t feel right to me to have someone else play Hollyn. Especially for a scene that would have such an impact on the characters involved. The fans had been begging for Elliot and Hollyn to finally get together and I couldn’t pass up being a part of the moment when they finally did. It wouldn’t have been fair to the fans if it wasn’t me playing the role.”

The audience approves of my response with their loud reaction which eases my nerves immensely.

“Absolutely incredible,” James compliments. “I can’t imagine the scene being done without you two. I mean, you two have such chemistry! What were your reactions to watching the infamous final scene? Did you watch it together?!”

Sam and I side-eye one another then burst out laughing because I can recall my exact words. I’m sure he can too.

“This is a question for Y/N,” he points out between laughter.

I hit the back of my hand on his stomach, “why me?!”

“You said!” He chuckles, so he does remember my words.

I get the giggles as James pushes me to answer. I settle down and catch my breath. “Well, I had a watch party at my house with the cast, and right after the scene happened and the show cuts to the dramatic final credits, I yelled “yay! Hollyn finally got laid!”

James hides his face with his cards as he laughs. Laughs of all kinds spread throughout the audience and I can feel my face getting warm. James’s laugh is contagious and I can’t stop.

“You all know how uptight Hollyn could be! Maybe she’ll be a little more laid back!” I add with a shrug and James bursts out laughing.

“You two are absolutely hilarious,” he wipes his watery eyes. “And adorable! Please tell me you’re dating in real life!”

Sam hiss between his teeth and glances at me. “I’m sorry, we’re not…” he answers hesitantly.

“What!” James’s jaw drops, “but you two are so cute together! I mean, you’ve been holding hands the entire time!”

We shake our heads and Sam explains for us both. “Y/N and I are super close. We can see how people would assume we’re dating but in all honesty, we’re just really good friends. Considering, for example, to have done the final scene from last season we kinda have to be. We met when she was just a teenager and I was in graduate school. We’ve seen each other grow. We’ve been around the world together and since our characters are paired together, so are we. Meaning, we’re constantly together and I’m thankful we are because I’m so lucky to have such an amazing partner in all of this.”

“Aw, isn’t he the sweetest!” I pout playfully and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Ugh, can we change the whole “only friends” thing?” James begs. “I ship it!”

The audience agrees and then he moves on to talk about the next season. We say all that can be shared at the time being and we share some pictures from filming yesterday as a teaser for the season.

“Y/N, is that you crying here?” James questions.

The photo on the scene behind us shows the part where I cry because Elliot just told Hollyn she’ll only ever be a rich girl from Los Angeles.

“Yeah, the first episode is filled with drama! Elliot and Hollyn already have a rocky time.”

“No! You’re joking!” He whines, disappointed.

We flip through more photos and answer a few more questions. James says into the camera that when we get back we’ll be playing a game. The game is Who is Most Likely To? Between me and Sam who is more likely to…

After the commercial break, James looks toward the camera with the utmost enthusiasm. “And we are back with Y/N and Sam! I have given each of them a paddle! One side says Y/N and the other reads Sam! Now, the game is Who is Most Likely To? So, between the two of you, who is more likely to “fill in the blank?” We all set?”

“We’re good!” Sam and I say at the same time as if we practiced.

“Alrighty, question number one...” James reads his cards. “Who is most likely to sleep until noon?”

I instantly flip my paddle to myself without a second thought. Sam is such an early bird. The type to get a five-mile jog in by ten. I lean forward and Sam said me as well.

“I’m not gonna deny it. If I could I would stay in bed all day,” I giggle without shame.

“You have stayed in bed all day,” Sam teases and I playfully nudge him in the arm. The whole set finds it humorous.

“Who is most likely to get a tattoo?” James reads with a raised brow.

The audience “ooh’s” in anticipation. I flip my paddle to Sam’s side, never in a million years would I get a tattoo.

“Y/N, you flipped your paddle super fast. Why is that?” James inquires.

“Mhm, nope! There will be no ink on this skin!” I wave my head frantically. “Sam can do whatever he wants with his body but it’s a no for me.”

“We’ve actually talked about tattoos before and I plan on getting one here soon,” Sam describes.

James asks him about what he plans on getting and that conversation goes on a minute or two. Sam explains where he plans on placing the tattoo and when he’ll get it done.

James reads over the card and smirks, “who is most likely to date another celebrity?”

Sam, no doubt. I feel no urge to date, thank you very much.

“Oh! Looks like we got ourselves a mix-up! Sam said Y/N and Y/N said, Sam!” James laughs toward the audience.

“Me?!” I gasp, earning amusement from the audience.

Sam turns his body to face me, “why not?”

“You know, if you two dated this could work itself out,” James points out to get a reaction from the crowd.

“I’m not really looking to date at the moment,” I explain, and James is surprised. I explain further, “the show is important to me and this summer I just want to fun. Plus, my schedule is quite hectic and I would feel bad for dragging someone else into it all.”

He completely understands and asks the final question. “Who is most likely to get married first?”

I flip my board to Sam again. James starts to laugh and I comprehend that it’s the same case as last time. I check Sam’s and I’m right, he said to me.

“Why do you keep putting me?” I fuss playfully.

“Because it’s true! You’re such a little liar to say me!” Sam teases.

“You’re older!” I reason.

“Oh please,” Sam rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch.

“I’ll have to agree with Sam on this one,” James adds and I look to him betrayed.

“Y/N, you’re America’s Sweetheart! Every young guy’s dream girl!”

I hide my face in my hands and shake my head with a giggle.

“Doesn’t mean I’ll be the first to get married! I have no interest in anyone right now!” James and Sam beam as I finish.

“Ah, ah see! You said “right now,” James points at me.

These two are teaming up on me now.

“Thank you so much you two for coming in! It’s been a lot of fun!” James thanks.

“Of course, it was a blast!” I charm.

He stands and so do we. He hugs Sam then me, “you two make me laugh like no others.”

James looks into the camera and wraps up the end of the show. “Thank you, Julia Roberts, Adam Levine, Sam Merka, Y/N Voss, and Machine Gun Kelly for joining me today! Have an excellent night everyone! Until next time!”

The band starts their music. Sam and I dance to the beat and James join in. The produces yells that the show has cut to a commercial.

To hear my name and Machine Gun Kelly’s name mere seconds apart is something I never thought I’d hear.

“Thanks again for coming!” James repeats once the show is over.

“We had fun! Thanks for having us!” Sam compliments.

The duo shares a brief “bro hug” and James embraces me one last time.

Then, Sam and I head backstage to our dressing room. Nicole and Steven should already be back there since I didn’t see them on the set.

“That went well!” Sam mentions while we walk down the hall.

I hum, “totally not getting married first though.”

“Whatever, you’re lying to yourself,” he laughs as he opens the door to the dressing for me.

Nicole and Steven are waiting for us and instantly begin talking about the Vanity Fair shoot tomorrow. It’s never-ending.

____________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx

#machine gun kelly #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk aesthetic #mgk imagine #mgk

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checkingoutforheroes · 3 years

Text

Natasha’s Birthday.

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Words: 2786

Warning: None? I think.

Genre: Just fluffff. I PROMISE!

AU Notes: I suggest you listen to Uptown Girl by Westlife or Billy Joel while reading this💃🏻🕺🏻

Synopsys: Natasha is not happy to celebrate her own birthday party without her love life. Can Y/n make it?

People starts filling the party area in the compound. Perks of being Tony Stark best friend, he will never miss any of your guy’s birthday. Party is a must! Natasha try to hid her sad and disappoint feeling on her own party but fail when Wanda can easily feel and read mind.

Y/n have been send to a week mission yesterday and there is no way she can come home. The team acknowledge that and tried their best to cheer their friend up. Thor arrived and Tony greet him. “Right on time, Point Break. Party about to start.” “I couldn’t miss the party. It’s birthday party, there must be a cake. How’s Natasha? I heard Y/n is on a mission.” The god of thunder asking his fellow Avengers.

Clint answer him while Tony ask Pepper to call Natasha and Wanda to come down. “This is a secret okay. Do not, any circumstances, tell Natasha this but Y/n is not on a ‘work’ mission.” Thor confuse “What do you mean?” “He means; Y/n is preparing a big surprise for Natasha. It’s more like a show for her. We all kind of have a part in it. Sorry you didn’t have time to rehearse with us.” Steve explaining to him and Thor just sip his drinks happily. “That’s okay. I like watching a show. We have them on Asgard too, when we celebrating something. Like this.”

“And, done.” Wanda is doing Natasha’s hair and can’t help to hear her thought. “Maybe Y/n will celebrate it with you when she’s back. I know it past your birthday but I also know she definitely celebrating it.” Natasha just smiling on her chair, looking at Wanda through the mirror in front of them. “You invading my privacy.”

Wanda just giggle to answer to her mentor. “Well you’re not helping by thinking too loud. We all here for you tonight and I swear I can hear Thor already betting with someone, something about a drink?”

“Thor’s here huh? He’s been away in space but still can manage to come visit his fellow Avengers birthday party. While Y/n was away in a silly mission.” Natasha fake a smile.

“I understand if you want to strangle Fury right now but it’s time to go.” Someone knocking on the door and Pepper come in to get them. “Well, I’m here to invite this birthday girl to her own birthday party.” Natasha smile at her. “We are going. Let’s go.” Pepper nodding “Good idea. Because Thor is just a step away to get everybody drunk.”

They can hear the music blasting when they reach to the floor. “I guess you’re the one who handling the guests invitation?” Natasha asking Pepper. “If I let Tony, he’ll invite the whole Manhattan.” “You know me so well now, Pepper.”

Tony grabs the mic from the DJ and announce Natasha’s arrival. “Ladies and gentlemen, I announcing the arrival of our birthday girl for tonight, The Double Agent imposter.” The crowds go silent and only Tony and Thor are laughing. “I was just kidding. The lovely Natasha Romanoff!!” Now the crowds cheering loudly.

The party goes smoothly as planned. Some of the guess already drunk, chatting with their friends, playing at the pool table, throwing darts and here they are, in a group, sitting in a lounge, chatting with the birthday girl. “I see there are 3 piles of presents.” Asked by the birthday girl.

“They are from your rich guests here, your fan clubs and your little fans.” Clint told her.

“That’s sweet.” She said and Steve notice something is not right. “What is it? You not like it?”

“I like it.”

“She’ll kill to be here but no choice.” Steve try to makes his friend feel better at her own birthday.

“I asked Fury for an exchange, me instead, but you know that old man.” Clint assure her.

“Thank you for trying making me feel better. Well, the God is here. What more can I wish for right?” Natasha smile at Thor. “I apologize, I didn’t bring anything from Asgard. I’m from another course and drop by here but I have this humble drink for you.” Thor hand the drink in an antique and unique bottle to Natasha and she takes it. “Thanks! I could really use it now though.” Tony looks unsatisfied at Thor. “And you didn’t bring one for me?!” Pepper interject him “Thanks to that. You are already drunk even when you’re sober.” “I cannot disagree to that statement.” Sam jokes. Clint, Tony and Steve excuse themselves.

Wanda immediately stops her from drinking that drink. “Why did you stop me?” She asked and Wanda told her to enjoy the party. “You can drink that later because you might want to enjoy your ‘not so boring’ party first. That drink is probably too strong you know, not made for human.” “Everybody else is probably drunk right now, I don’t see why I can’t.” “I can’t let you because-”

Right on time the music play and Natasha turn her head so fast to the stage when she hears Y/n voice. “...that.” Wanda finishes her sentences. Turns out it’s not just you. There Steve on the keyboard, Clint on drum, Tony on bass guitar and Maria Hill on electric guitar. All wearing the same old S.H.I.E.L.D old uniform, sleeve rolling up. They all have microphone with them and singing as backup vocals as Y/n go lead.

Uptown girl,

She’s been living in her uptown world

I bet she never had a backstreet guy

I bet her mama never told her why

I’m gonna try for an uptown girl (Uptown girl…)

She’s been living in her white, bright world (white, bright world…)

As long as anyone with the hot blood can (hot blood can…)

And now she’s lookin’ for a downtown man (downtown man…)

That’s what I am

Her green eyes sparkles bright enough to light up the room when she sees you on stage singing the classic Uptown Girl. She turns to Wanda and Pepper asking whether it is really Y/n or a hologram. “Is that?” Wanda smiles wide and nods. “Yes, that’s Y/n.” Pepper add “I kill Tony myself if that is screen recording or hologram.”

And when she knows

What she wants

From her time

And when she wake up

And make up

Her mind

She’ll see I’m not so tough (duet with Steve)

Just because

I’m in love with an uptown girl (uptown girl)

You know I see her in her uptown world (uptown world)

She’s getting tired of her high class toys (high class toys)

And all her presents from her

Uptown boys (uptown boys)

She’s got a choice.

Oh oh oh oh oh oh

Fury come out of nowhere “It is so awkward to see The Avengers singing. And dancing. Maybe not for Captain America.” Natasha turns to see Fury. “Nick. Is this part of your plan too?” He smiles “How can I not? She’s been begging me for the last two months to not give any of you a mission specifically on this day. It’s worth it.”

Natasha chuckles, out of words. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Fury turns over and showing Natasha’s family. Yes, her family. Alexi, Melina and her little sister Yelena.

Wanda whisper at Natasha’s ear “They are real too.” She nods at Natasha “Go.”

Thor walks towards Wanda and Fury. “I’ve never seen her smiling that big.” Pepper and Wanda looking at her greeting her family. “Me too.”

“Such a noble thing you did.” Thor said to Fury and he just smiling. Natasha brings her family to introduce to Wanda, Thor and Pepper. They continue watching the show and Wanda pulls Natasha’s hand when Y/n calling them to come up the stage. “Let’s go. All of us. The band need us.” Pepper let Natasha’s family walks first. Wanda presenting Natasha and let Y/n takes her hand. She goes next to Steve, Pepper next to Tony, Thor doing silly dance next to Maria and be silly together while her family enjoying with all of them near Clint.

Uptown girl

You know I can’t afford to buy her pearl

But maybe when my ship comes in

She’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been

And then I win.

Y/n put her hand out for Natasha to take and walking on the stage. Que for her walking. Luckily Natasha play along.

And when she’s walking

She’s looking so fine

And when she’s talking

She’s say that she’s mine

Y/n pass her to her family and jog towards Tony.

She’ll say I’m not so tough (duet with Tony)

Just because

I’m in love with an uptown girl (oohhh)

She’s been living in her white, bread world (oohhh)

As long as anyone with a hot blood can (ooohhh)

And now she’s looking for a downtown man (oohhh)

That’s what I am

Oh oh oh oh

While the rest of them singing the ‘Oh’ parts, you Y/n whisper to Natasha. “You know the next part. You’ve seen the video.” Natasha shyly looking at her family and friends until Yelena yells “Go! This is one in a lifetime chances.” Natasha looks at Y/n, her smile still plastering at her beautiful face. “Why are you doing this to me?” “Because I love you. Dance with me.” The music continues playing even they stop playing the instruments to gather around just like they practiced. Tony already set the music with Friday and it knows the queue.

Uptown girl (uptown girl)

She’s my uptown girl

You know I’m in love

With an uptown girl (uptown girl)

My uptown girl

You know I’m in love

With a birthday girl (uptown girl)

She’s my birthday girl

You know I’m in love

With an uptown girl (uptown girl)

My uptown girl….

They let their friend finish that song. Everybody enjoying the moment and each of them have biggest smile on their faces. Even Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D himself. It’s weird but yes, he is smiling. Y/n and Natasha go hugs their friends and family. Y/n stops at Natasha’s family while she’s with Steve and Maria at the other end.

“I know I just met you, but I already like you Y/n.” Melina says to Y/n and Alexi continue. “It’s hard to see her smile like that. Not even when she’s a kid.”

“Take a good care of my sister. I trust you.” Yelena said.

“She doesn’t even trust me! Her father.” Alexi said and Yelena jus rolling her eyes.

Y/n look at them with hope and grateful in her eyes. “Thank you, for allowing me to marry your daughter, sister. I promise I’ll take care of her.” Yelena sees her sister coming toward them “What are you waiting for? Go put the ring on her finger, in-law.” Y/n smiles big at Yelena’s as she called her sister in-law.

The crowds getting quiet when Tony put a ‘silent’ sign on the screen above them while the other screen focus on Y/n and Natasha without they even notice. Secretly Tony recording the whole thing since the beginning and make the whole documentary out of it. Y/n surely need to thank him.

“Happy birthday, Natasha. You, look so, d.. divine. Tonight.” Y/n nervously said to her soon to be fiancé. Hopefully.

“You sound nervous. You’ve been singing, dancing in front of hundreds people in this room and you’re nervous to praise me?” Natasha cupping your cheek with her right hand. Y/n pull her hand down and Natasha’s sensing something is wrong. “Y/n. What’s wrong?” They didn’t notice that all of The Avengers slowly moves behind Y/n. Even Y/n doesn’t know this part. It was Wanda’s idea. They all get down on their knee when Y/n is on her knee.

“You’re right. I am nervous, now. I’m speechless. Over the edge, I’m breathless. I understand if… I understand...” Y/n is so nervous and let out a long sigh before looking at Natasha’s family behind her. They all nodding at Y/n. Y/n take a deep breath and pull out a red velvet box that have a diamond engagement ring from her pocket. Y/n get down on her knee.

To be honest, Natasha is also nervous and shock, mix with happy and overwhelm when she sees not just Y/n who down on one knee but the whole Avengers. Her second family, also bending their knee but she keeps her composure. Y/n turns to see where Natasha’s looking and almost let out tears when she sees them.

They both looking eye to eye and Y/n starts talking. “You know how terrible I am with words when I’m nervous. That’s why I’m so bad at espionage. You are the most solid, nothing to solidify. Calm and collected. We avenge together, we mess up together. You know I love you, right? Natasha Romanoff, will you accept my proposal?” Wanda hissing and whisper directly to you from her place “Pssstt… Will you marry me. Will. You. Marry. Me.” Your eyes still lock on Natasha astonishing green eyes. “Sorry. Umm... Will you marry me?”

“We drive each other mad, but what is love with no pain and suffer.” The whole room is so quiet that they can only listen to their own heart beats. “To you, I’ve never lied. For you, I’d take a life. I swear.” Natasha said eyes still on each other. “Your answer is…….?” Y/n gulp and Natasha smile. “Yes. I’ll marry you, my favorite Avengers.”

Y/n get up from the floor and hug Natasha a little too strong because why not? She’s over the moon right now. Before Natasha kiss her new fiancé, Y/n turn around and runs to her friends. “SHE SAID YES GUYS! She said the big YES!!”

Pepper stops Y/n. “Y/n, have you kiss her yet?”

“I did hug her.”

They all yell “KISS HER!!” You run towards Natasha and kiss her. “I’m sorry I forget to kiss you. I’m so excited! Can I kiss you now?” Natasha giggles “You’ve never ask my permission before.” Y/n kiss Natasha in front of her family and they awkwardly watch especially Yelena.

“Are you sure she’s an Avenger? Not from any circus camp?” Yelena looking at her sister.

“No.” Natasha let out a small laugh. “No? Are you sure? Yes? No? ” “No…” “Okay if you’re sure, because I want you to be happy.” The sisters hug each other for a while meanwhile Y/n and Wanda hold each other hand jumping up and down like children get what they wish for as Christmas present. “she said Yes Wanda. I’m getting marry.” “Yes you’re getting marry.”

“Natasha.” Melina caught her attention. “I’m proud of you. We, all proud of you. You’ve grown to be an incredible woman Natasha.”

“Looooonggg way from Ohio.” Yelena smiles. “I’ll never forget Ohio.” Natasha told he sister.

“She’s a good person, Natasha.” Alexi caught her attention. Seriousness shown on his face, he continues. “She did asked us for our blessing.” “She did what?” Now its her turn to be serious.

“She asked for our blessing. To marry you.”

“Y/n asked for your blessing?”

“Yes. I know! I can’t believe it too until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Hah! You’re marrying a vintage.” Yelena laugh at her sister. “Mom, almost take her down with sniper.”

Natasha look sternly at Melina “Almost! Okay! Almost. I didn’t because she came unarms. Not even a swish blade.” Melina clearing the situation.

“She came to you guys? When?” Natasha asked her family.

“Yeah. Alone. Last month. Why?” Alexi asks her daughter.

“I thought Fury brought you guys here. I never told her where do you live. Only Fury knows, based on my file details.”

“She did break into Maria Hill’s personal computer just to find your original file. No one ever know that you and Barton had an original file. Somehow, she did. She’s a catch Romanoff.” Fury came behind her.

“Thank you.” Natasha at him.

“I have to go. It broke my heart to see the Avengers jumping like that.” He looks at the Avengers. “Lighten up, Fury. Let her have a moment.” Natasha said. “You better tell your fiancé not to break any S.H.I.E.L.D files or computers ever again. I’m watching.” He nods at her family and walks away. The family joins The Avengers drinking and chatting. Natasha greeted by Y/n and put her arm around Y/n neck.

“Hey you.” Y/n smiles.

“Hey fiancé.” Natasha smirking seductively at Y/n.

“Fiancé. Huh, I’d like that.”

“Wait until I call you my wife.”

“I’ll love that.”

Tony snap their picture and post it on instagram and twiter. The news travel so fast and the whole world are happy for them. Who doesn’t get excited. Two of earth mightiest heroes are engaged to each other. Their phones are blown off with calls, notification, texts, emails from fans, reporters, sponsors, government, agencies this, that. All of those are for congratulate the couple.

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

I Promise (I)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> Some people have the gifted ability of music; others of mathematics; some perhaps as persuasive argumentators. You have a “gift”, if one would like to call it that. It is the ability to know when somebody is telling a lie.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> hoseok x reader; ?? x reader (the whole gang joins at some point)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> mafia!au

𝔴/𝔠 >> 3.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mentions of drug use. nothing else much really it’s actually pretty tame right now

𝔞/𝔫: would you believe be if i said this whole thing was inspired by this singular gif? I lost my old account (rip old fics) but here I am starting new and writing again. Nervous, but please show some love

next part

The music is blasting in your room, and the bass rumbles causing your heart to beat to the rhythm of the song. However, your fingers are tapping to their own creation of a tempo while your other hand scribbles a note down on a piece of paper. It is the end of June and that means you have just received your paycheque.

“$9.74,” you repeat after your calculation, “I’ve got an extra $9.74 to spend.” You lean back in your chair and continues to bob your head. The wall behind you thumps to its own tempo; not of the song that is playing but its own rhythmic pattern. Your roommate is at it again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to drift. $9.74. You could get an extra meal. Or an extra drink at the bar. Or maybe you could just put that into your bank account. But that’d be useless, just sitting there. In the very distance, you hear the thumping of your roommate stop and its door creaks open. Another set of doors creak a couple of seconds later. You get out of your seat and open the door to your own room.

Seohyun, your roommate, brushes past you wearing only a pair of shorts and her favourite black laced bra. She walks to the door of the apartment and kisses the man on the lips before taking a drag of the cigarette she is holding in the other hand. He stands with a hand in his pocket and the buttons of his shirt undone. You watch as Seohyun bites his lip before ending the kiss.

“You’re the best,” you hear the robust mint-haired female say.

Cue the all too familiar buzzing.

“Love you, babe,” he says, kissing her one last time before leaving.

The buzzing halts.

“Love you too,” Seohyun kisses him one last time before gently pushing him out the door, closing it when he leaves.

And there returns the buzz.

Seohyun turns to walk back to her room and notices you standing there. “Hey,” she greets.

“You know, he actually does like you,” you comment, coming out of your room. You rub the back of your neck and rotate it once to get rid of the stress. Seohyun sits down on the brown couch in the small living room and takes out a tin box. She crosses her legs and rummages through its contents. A cigarette leaves its embers on the ashtray in the table in front of her. “Right. And I like him too,” Seohyun replies, taking out what she had been looking for, “Him and his drugs.” She shakes the white packet before opening it up. She sniffs the contents once and sighs. Making a motion towards you, she offers its contents to you.

You shake your head. You return into your room briefly to turn off the music and grab your phone and jacket. When you walk back out, you see that the packet is empty and Seohyun is passed out on the couch, fingers still speckled with white dust. You make a quick stop into Seohyun’s room to grab a blanket for her before locking the keys to the apartment.

Your apartment, technically. You had been the one to pay full payment and was content in living alone until Seohyun showed up one night, begging for a place to sleep. You couldn’t let her sleep outside so you agreed. That one night turned into a week and finally a year, where Seohyun still stays.

It isn’t like you didn’t enjoy Seohyun’s company. She is nice to be around, always engaging in some next level philosophical topic, particularly when she is high. It is, however, slightly annoying whenever she brings her “boyfriend”, or boyfriends at times, to the place, but you have learned to drown out their voices and actions by blasting your music. But what you like about Seohyun the most is that she doesn’t ask questions. The buzzing in your head is also always strangely quieter around the other girl as well.

You trudge up the stairs and immediately brings a hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun. It is about seven in the evening but still way too bright for your liking. You like the darkness night brought with it. Serene. Solemn. Locking the gate to the building behind you, you walk down the streets all the while rolling your neck due to its tense state.

No matter how many times it happened, you’d still feel its pain.

The lingering pain left as a reminder of your unique power; gift; thing. Whatever people wanted to call it.

You knew whenever somebody told a lie.

You would feel this strange buzzing at the base of your neck when a person said anything but the truth around you. The buzzing didn’t come every time you talked to somebody - you couldn’t catch all the lies that came out of people’s mouths - but it occurred often enough to be a nuisance to you. While the buzzing wasn’t painful in itself, it always caused your neck to be in sore pain. The pain was not indicative of how big the lie was, however. A lie that involved so many twists and turns that even its creator could not keep track would give you pain. A small white lie would give you the same pain. To you, it was just pain.

You quickly turn the corner and made your way down the stairs into the subway station. The man at the window gives you a small smile in which you did not return but hastily walk through the gate. One hour. It took 46 minutes to get to the station and another twelve minutes to walk. You had one hour. The subway could not be late.

You were not always a walking human lie detector. In fact, you had only been living like this for the past six years of the total of your twenty-six. At least consciously aware of this ability of yours for that time period.

If you really had to pinpoint when it started, you would connect it to approximately four more years prior to that: first year of high school. The prime time of adolescence.

You could hear the first subway leave, vibrations through the sole of your feet and its wheels screeching on the tracks. That left two minutes for you to make it to the opposite platform which was for the direction you wanted to go. You glance at the elevator you are currently standing in front of. It had not budged from “G” for a while now. You glance at the stairs just a couple of steps away. Sighing, you leave your spot and make your way down the stairs. One and a half minute.

The first year of high school sucked. Your parents had always screaming at each other and your brother was constantly skipping school. You did not want to be a second disappointment to your parents so you spent all her time studying in the library. It was also an excuse to be out of the house. One day, you returned home and found your mother crying on the steps of their house.

“Mom, did you and Dad fight again?”

Your mother did not meet your eyes. “Are you okay?” you had asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, trying to console your mother as best as a fourteen year old could do.

“I’m fine,” your mother answered. That was when you first heard a faint buzzing. It was strange for bees to be around their flowerless yard.

“You don’t look fine,” you had pressed on, “Will you and Dad be okay?”

Your mother shifted her position and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at you with a bruised eye and said, “Your dad will be okay.” The buzzing seemed to fade.

You patted the still damp cheek of your mother and hugged the fragile women. You slowly rubbed your mother’s back in small circles. “Mom, you and Dad will work things out. So promise me you guys won’t leave each other.”

“I promise,” your mother had reassured you. That was when you cried out in pain as the buzzing attacked you. Your mother had been alarmed and you had laughed it off, saying that a bee had probably stung the back of your neck while she wasn’t aware. The duo then got off the floor and held hands as together, you walked back into the house.

Your parents split a week later.

You had never found it in herself to forgive your mother after that. You hadn’t even known that you had been lied to until you really thought about it in your years as an adult. You just hated the fact that your mother had promised something that she had been planning to break. When high school ended, you picked a college as far away from your mother’s house as you could. You poured all of your time into your academics and never bothered making friends. Throughout the four years there, you had occasionally felt the buzzing but did not really associate it with anything around her. It only became prominent when you started working at your first job.

To any fresh graduate, this was a hire that was ever only dreamt of. It was a position with a high status in the company: Assistant Director of Internal Affairs. The company had been extremely impressed with your grades and all the extracurriculars you participated in. You had flown to three different cities outside of your own country as an intern and placed first in multiple conferences. It was no mistake that you had gotten in. You had been ecstatic when they spoke to you. You could finally move out of your mother’s house, in which you had temporarily been staying in while job searching; live in a city a thousand miles away from where she currently was, and was able to be somebody whom nobody knew about. It was your dream come true.

That turned out to be a disaster. Every day you went into work, the buzzing would surround you and send you moaning in pain to the bathroom. You could barely speak to any of your coworkers without wanting to strangle them and tell them to be quiet. You could not attend any of the meetings and you had to call in multiple sick days within her first week there. Needless to say, this affected your work performance and after an agonizing four and a half months, the company fired you.

Being without a job meant that you had no steady income. So, you moved out of the luxurious apartment you had just bought with your new salary and used the remaining money to buy the dank, run down one you were currently living in. You searched everywhere and finally found a waitress for hire at a bar close to the middle of the city. It was an hour from where you lived, but at least there you could dull the buzzing with alcohol. And this was how you lived for the past two years.

You cursed. You missed it. The subway left you in its smoke as you got off the last step of the descending staircase.

...

The other man was slouched against the pillar of the building, blood running freely down the side of his head while his hand tried to keep in the rest of his blood from escaping out of the hole on his side. He panted, gasping for whatever oxygen was available.

“Tell me,” the younger man towered over him, “Where did you hide the stash?” “I didn’t hide it, man. I swear. It’s where they asked me to leave it,” the bleeding man held his remaining hand in front of him in defense. “Please don’t hurt me.” There was a swish and cold metal sliced the air. He was not taller than the man, nor any stronger. But he had youth and a quick mind. More importantly, he had a weapon.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, so don’t make me do something I don’t want to do,” he crouched and put his face close to the other man’s. He pressed the knife against his throat.

The man whimpered as a thin line of fresh blood was drawn. “Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt me,” he said again, voice barely a whisper.

The two stayed in that position until the younger abruptly stood up. “Fine, I won’t hurt you,” he stepped back, “But it’ll be on you when she gets hurt.” His movement is fast and he grabs the wrist of the single other person in the station.

...

You stand with your back against the man, the knife held against your neck this time.

You dare not to move. You swallow once and glance down at the bleeding stranger. He is staring right back at you.

From movies and dramas, you know not to fight back in scenarios like this. You also know not to scream as this would agitate both parties. You return the strangers stare: “Help me”.

Your capturer’s voice rumbles through his chest and onto your back as he speaks, “Your choice. I can kill this girl and have it pinned on you, or you can just tell me where you put the stash.”

“Please,” the bloody man pleads, “I’m just a carrier. I don’t know where any of the merchandise is. I… I admit it, alright? I disobeyed the instructions this time. I didn’t leave it where they told me.”

You feel yourself being dragged closer to the subway tracks. Maybe you should kick or flail around a little. You try, but the man holds you steady. The blade is dangerously close to cutting your skin.

The bleeding man can only watch in horror as the other man stands precariously on the edge of the tracks. “I’m going to push her down,” he is warned. His mind was frantic. He had been told that his task would be simple. He did not know that it would involve another human being to be hurt in the process. His mind flashes back to his little girl, probably still waiting for her father in their small flat.

“I got another message right before I left,” he starts saying, “Please don’t hurt the girl. Please don’t hurt me. I’ve got a family.”

“Don’t we all,” the voice behind you drawls in sarcasm, “Give me another excuse of why I need to keep listening.”

You kick your assaulter. He grips you tighter. She look back at the bleeding man on the ground. He is still staring at you with wide eyes.

“The message told me that the location had changed. I wasn’t sure if I should trust it, but an hour before the pickup time, another note showed up on my doorstep and said that if I brought it to the second location, I’d get an extra $150, so I did it,” he continues.

You feel the tension in your neck slightly subside amongst the chaos. You kicked your assaulter again.

“Exact location. Now,” the voice demands.

“Corner of 16th and Main,” he stammers.

You kick a little harder this time, trying to wiggle out of the tight grip. It is really starting to hurt you. You feel yourself being pushed towards the bleeding man. Both you and your assaulter get extremely close to the man lying on the ground.

You sniff once and instantly regret it. Mixed with the blood, you can smell the acidity of urine. The man is now crying and you think you could see the pool around him widen ever so slightly.

“Please sir, I’ve told you everything that I know. I followed the instructions and left it there. I did not hide it. Somebody else must’ve used me to get it. I swear, Sir, I swear,” he holds his hands out and rubs them, a symbol of asking for mercy.

The two of you stand up, or rather you are hauled up for the man. The knife nicks your neck and you swear under your breath. You can feel the two men stare at each other for a long time.

“Scram,” the one behind her rasps. It takes a while for the bleeding man to stand, but adrenaline does wonders when the body is in danger. He limps out and up the stairs before he can be told twice. There is a rumbling in the distance to indicate that the next subway is arriving.

“There’s a train coming,” you finally talk, “A train means there’s people.” Your assaulter still does not let go.

“You’re hurting me,” you wiggled in his grasp. He loosens it and you finally get away. You turn and glare through your bangs at the man who has been holding you captive. You touch a finger to where the knife had nicked you, then examined it: there is blood.

The man standing has put his knife away. He is studying you with eyes as intense as yours while bringing the lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag and blows it in your direction.

Standing only a few inches taller than you, he is of slightly above average height. He wears the iconic baggy shirt and jeans of the common gangsters that prowl the area. Even in the dim light of the subway station, you can make out the tattoo of a dragon spiraling up his arm. He does nothing to hide the fact that he is affiliated with the mafia.

You are not particularly intimidating yourself. You stand at 164cm but wear a constant scowl. With your broken nose from a fall in your childhood, the feature makes your whole facial symmetry shift ever slightly to the left, accentuating the scowl even more. In a black t-shirt, black dress pants and black shoes, you wave her hand to rid herself of the smell of smoke.

“So, was he lying?” the man finally speaks after a period of silence.

“Fuck off, Jung Hoseok,” you growl.

#bts #hoseok #jhope #bts au #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #mafia!au #mafia!jhope #mafia!bts #jung hoseok #hoseok au

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