#while making these i could not stop laughing at mai getting straight yeeted in the 2nd to last shot

[seraphiloqui]

#ghost hunt #naru #kazuya shibuya #oliver ec davis #noll #while making these i could not stop laughing at mai getting straight yeeted in the 2nd to last shot

[mminttae]

Clandestine | 02

-> Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x reader

-> Genre : tattoo!artist Jungkook, mafia! JJK,mafia au, bloody!missions, slight violence, got secrets they can't tell, angst, romance, Jungkook's part time job is flirting, sad (backstory), Y/N is strong!

-> Summary : who would have known that just doing a part time job at a night club would lead you to the tattoo artist Jeon Jungkook's messed up world. One letter related to the secret comes out of your mouth you'll be laying in Jungkook's arms but alive or not, that's not guaranteed...

-> Word Count : 4.286 K ( A/N: I’m increasing words )

-> T/W body language, killing, curse words and intimacy are included in the story (you may read if you're comfortable with these)

Part : 2

<< previous chap

.・゜-: ✧ :-playlist -: ✧ :-゜・．

Jungkook's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Even if me saying that line didn't flatten him enough I knew the nickname did as it always have been doing. It was clearly visible that he didn't expect me to be this bold suddenly. But he being himself smirked after a couple of seconds as his hand snaked up to grab my wrist pulling me more closer "Sure princess.. Do you want to go to the trip now? " His tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his piercing doe eyes holding so many thoughts looked at my lips then to my eyes.

"I don't want to interrupt but the trip has to be postponed "Jimin interferes in the moment, his eyes narrowed and only looking at me as if scared that the younger guy would throw him out if he locked eyes with his. Making a 'tch' sound Jungkook raises his eyebrows at Jimin in a manner that reads he's asking why postpone. I yeet his hand which was holding my wrist and get off from the table clearing my throat while fixing the skirt and apron. Jungkook clearly disappointed for not being able to hear my answer gets up from the seat while putting the black leather jacket around his shoulders. Jimin and Taehyung following him gets up too grabbing their bags. Jungkook walked up to me while fixing his bangs with his index finger.

"Gotta go princess a client's waiting" Nodding I proceeded to walk away but I could hear Jungkook saying with a sad dramatic tone. "Atleast act that you don't want me to go". I'm afraid I won't be able to because I myself don't know what this client of yours gonna do if you don't go on time. Is the person waiting even a client or not? Knitting my eyebrows I look back only to meet with strangers taking up the seat. The three tall mesmerizing men with inks on their body not to be seen anywhere. I don't know what's going on in that foolish yet extremely clever brain of yours but...

Be careful Mr. Artbook..

End of YOUR POV

Mid summer yet the night breeze is able to run shivers down your spine. Not a single soul in sight.

10 at night maybe the shopkeepers closed down the shutters and went to bed. Not many shops here in this area to even begin with. The only workshop's bell which rings here is the Jeon's Tattoo corner which has been ringing from the morning today , seemed to have stopped in the evening but now making its sound again. "Argh I should really break down this bell "

With an annoyed expression the black haired guy opens the drawers searching for a fresh towel. The tall man who just entered the shop walked past the desk table, turning the door knob and allowing himself inside the cozy room. His loud footsteps on the wooden floor telling Jungkook that the guest has arrived.

"Where were you? I waited here for five minutes then went inside the nearby plant store to kill time"

Taking off the long coat the tall silver haired guy walks up to the chair positioned in the middle of the room beside the various tools. "Sorry hyung, Taehyung and Jimin wanted a new tattoo so went to hear out their designs"

Jungkook says, eyebrows knitted while he fishes out the stencil of the beautiful clematis he has drawn beforehand of the leader's arrival. Smiling to himself he walks up to the seated boss whose like a big brother to him, he puts the stencil aside. Taking out a black rubber band from his pocket he takes his hair and ties it up to a small ponytail before taking out a drawer full of tattoo needles and inks. "Heard that Yoongi started boxing classes with you"

The older male speaks as his lip corners slowly moves upwards. Jungkook giving out a laugh says, "Yea Yoongi hyung be moving like a turtle. "

The thought of his hyung boxing and whining that it's hard is enough to make the little one giggle. Taking out a small wooden stool with one hand as the other one was holding the tattoo gun, Jungkook sits himself beside the strong looking man who rolls up his shirt's sleeves revealing all the different type of arts and words of different languages tattooed on his arm.

"Need chewing gum?"

The younger one asks at the thought that it might hurt but the older one replies plainly that he's fine after all his skin had been coming in contact with this gun for a long time now. Jungkook nods before resting the needle on the free space on the top of the man's biceps before starting to draw on it, the awestrucking clematis. "Was thinking of getting a lip piercing but not being able to get it cuz of the adults in the house"

The man says while his dimples makes visits to his cheeks.

"The exact same reason why am postponing on getting an eyebrow piercing"

Jungkook replies as he carefully moves the tattoo gun sideways on the man's bicep.

"So when are you planning on telling your sister?"

He asks as the silver haired guy closes his eyes once realizing what Jungkook meant.

"When the time's right.. "

He replies, slowly opening his eyes his gaze meeting the ceiling.

"But first we need to pinpoint Mr. Choi's location"

Replying with a small and quiet yes Jungkook draws the details on the flower carefully.

"Seokjin has been checking the cctvs regularly and the only thing he found was the black hyundai stopping at a night club at exactly 7pm every Tuesday and Wednesday"

"What's the night club's name? "

Jungkook asks as he draws on the small leaves.

"Hell's night club"

With just the mention of the night club's name Jungkook's hand stops moving as his eyes widened. "Isn't that the club you often visit with the others? "

The silver haired man asks making Jungkook quietly nod his head. If the most feared mafia in the country slash his team's biggest rival had been going to the exact same club at the exact same time as his how come he never saw the familiar old man's face? He thought.

What kind of person does the man disguise him as that even Jimin who encountered him multiple times doesn't notice. "You should be careful and try to see your clients faces carefully and see if they match that old fart's face or not"

Jungkook humming a response continued on giving the clematis it's final touch. Finishing the tattoo he removes the gun making the silver haired man sit up straight and fix his shirt.

"You know what to do right?"

Jungkook asks referring to putting on Vaseline ointment on the tattoo and stuffs. The older guy nods while fetching his coat. "I'll get going then. Thanks for the tattoo kook"

Jungkook simply nods his mind stuck in a different topic. Putting the equipments away and tidying up the towels as the older guy leaves the shop and disappears into the darkness of the night in the empty alleyway, Jungkook couldn't help but think about what you were up to. His mind stitching up different negative thoughts together.

"If Mr. Choi is really going to that club then he must have seen Y/N always talking to us..... What if he does something to her? " Jungkook asks to himself and the next thing he does is take his bag, turn off the lights, lock the doors and run off to meet you.

• -

"I'll be off then"

Bowing politely you take hold of the two big disposable bags and huff out a breathe when you realize how heavy both of them were. Kicking the back staff door with your leg open the first thing you see is Jeon Jungkook leaning on the wall infront. His hair tied up in a small ponytail, a bag hung around his shoulder and inked hands resting inside his jeans pockets. His eyes falls on your hands holding the disposable garbage bags, sighing he walks up to you.

"I thought your job was to serve and take orders not bring out garbages" You looked down at the bags in your hands while saying, "I was coming out anyways it's no biggie"

You flashed him a small smile but his eyes looked worried and his face tensed. You wondered what happened but didn't dare to ask thinking that he will only answer with 'none of your business' . Yes Jeon Jungkook unknowingly says harsh things without thinking when he's tensed. Jungkook takes the garbage bags from your hands and put it beside the door when his eyes lands on your right hand which was bandaged. His eyes widen and he quickly took your right hand examining it while asking

"How did this happen? Are you okay? "

Embarrassed you put your hand away from his warm ones and answer while smiling, not making eye contact

"It's okay I'm fine these kind of injuries are meant to happen if you work in a bar." Jungkook not convinced took your hand again now keeping it infront of him not letting you pull it back. His eyebrows knitted . "You were totally fine this evening tell me what happened". Chewing on your bottom lip you look down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

"Y/N tell me what happened.." Jungkook says once again this time his voice laced with concern as his hands caressed your hair. You were actually a bit taken aback at how the always dominant voice of Jungkook is making its way to you in a concerned and soft way.

"A drunk guy harshly pulled my hand wanting me to sit beside him but I fought back and he suddenly let go of me making me loose my balance at hit the edge of the glass table behind and that's how I got this"

You say while looking at your bandaged hand which was now resting in jungkook's warm palm. He softly held your injured hand and lower down a bit to meet your height. Looking at your eyes he said

"Tell me who did this. Tell me who did this to you I'm gonna fucking kill him"

In a calm soft voice but the last part obviously didn't come out in a soft way. You laughed and pushed him a bit away from you. "It's okay am fine don't overreact he was drunk" But Jungkook not buying the answer walked closer to you and again with a serious tone asked you . "Tell me how he looked like"

Knowing that he won't let go of the topic unless you give him a proper answer you sigh, rolling your eyes while describing the drunk man you happened to meet inside the club. "He had small eyes , a sharp nose and dark stubble on his face and.." You trailed off thinking what else did the man have but Jungkook interrupted asking in a quick manner

"Did he have any sort of tattoo on his wrist? " Replaying the moment inside your head you widen your eyes a bit and nod your head, "Yea he did.. Was that a crown? A crown maybe"

Exactly knowing who that drunk man you encountered was Jungkook's chest sank at the thought that the old man touched you with his dirty hands. Gulping down the saliva that formed in his mouth he without thinking pulled you to his chest engulfing you in a hug. He wasn't sure why he felt like protecting you but he wanted to . He wasn't supposed to feel this way now that he set his mind on the plan his brain made up on the way here but..he did. He wanted to make sure you were safe.

Widening your eyes at how Jungkook suddenly hugged you, your mind went blank. There's no doubt in how fast your heart was beating. To be honest to yourself you were actually frightened when that man tried touching you in an ill manner but now being in Jungkook's arms you felt safe. You felt safe when he was around. Jungkook's arms around you got tighter as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

So this is how you gonna play it Mr. Choi

He thinks.

•-

Flashback 5 weeks back

Stretching your arms you give out a small yawn before grabbing the books from the table and making your way out of the auditorium. Walking while looking at your  surroundings you didn't notice the tall man standing infront of you. Too immersed in the same old paintings hanging on the walls you hit something hard making the copies and books in your hands fall down. Without looking up at the person you bumped into you quickly said 'sorry' while kneeling down to pick up your supplies. The tall gentleman kneeled down too helping you with picking up your stationerys. You got up, the man following you soon. This time facing the guy properly as both of you made eye contact you were about to say thank you when your voice abruptly decided to not come out.

The man had soft long black hair .The kind of hair you would want to play with all day. His baby doe eyes staring at you, his lips parted. The oversized hoodie he was wearing made him the grizzly huggable bear image more.

As your eyes scanned him from head to toe, your lips a bit parted, the guy not being able to control his laughter at how cute you looked when your eyes went big as if you saw something really interesting and you'd like to study that thing more, he gave out small giggles making you quickly close your mouth and look at him. Noticing how every students in tha hall were staring at both of you, you shifted your weight from one leg to another leg uncomfortably. But the guy's Adorable bunny smile didn't go out of your notice. His eyes wrinkled as he tilted his face and asked you softly

"You okay? "

Blinking couple of times you nodded your head making him shyly scratch his nape and mumble 'thank god'. Your lips automatically curved up when your eyes landed on the ID card hung around his neck

"Jeon Jungkook"

Once realization hit you that you were now standing infront of your college's hearthrob while looking like a whole mess which you didn't care about that much until you bumped into him, your cheeks got tinted in a light blush. Pulling your lips in you tilted your head a bit to the side making your baby hairs fall over your face.

"Hey kook!"

A loud deep voice entered the ears of the people standing in the hall making them turn their heads to the two seniors waving their hands at Jungkook's direction, a big wide smile plastered know their face. Jungkook takes out his bracelet covered wrist from his pocket and waves at them. Jimin running towards us and wrapping his arm around the tall guy's shoulders he notices me and flashes me a smile

"Hey Y/N"

Waving your sweater paw at him as a hey you smiled. You met Jimin and Taehyung a couple of times before in some group works with seniors. You not really interested in gossips of the college noticed just a few days ago that Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are the well known hot trio of this college.

"Y/N.."

Jungkook repeats your name to himself before looking at you once again , smiling while saying

"Sweet name"

His sweet honey voice saying your name was enough to melt you. If it was any other guy right now you would have simply said thank you for helping you pick up the books and walk away without saying anything but surprisingly Jeon Jungkook made you stop. "I'm hungry didn't have breakfast this morning" Taehyung whines while holding his tummy earning a slap on his head from Jimin. "we are going for lunch wanna join us? "

Jungkook asks you making you widen your eyes at the sudden invitation and Jungkook earning some smirks from the seniors beside him, Jimin elbowing his arm while wiggling his eyebrows. Jungkook simply rolled his eyes at his hyungs before looking at you for a reply. You glancing at your silver wrist watch said "I would love to but I should get going. I have some stuffs to do"

Jungkook quietly nods his head before flashing you a smile.

Is he always smiling?

You thought noticing that he had been smiling since the moment both of you met. "Y/N's always studying hard"

Taehyung says earning a nod from Jimin making you shyly scratch your nape.

The Brunnete haired approached you giving you a pat on your shoulder before saying "Study well but don't forget to have lunch okay? "

You flashed him a smile while nodding. Jungkook waving his hands at you as a 'bye' walked past you with the two boys. You looked back at three of them noticing that two of them were wearing hoodies and one of them were wearing full sleeved tees.

It's so hot these days why are they wearing hoodies on top of tees?

Shaking your head you quickened your pace and quickly got out of the college grounds. Walking to the bus stand while looking around at the cozy coffee shops on the streets you keep glancing at your watch from time to time to make sure that you're going on time or not.

Now here's a secret about you that no one knows

You're a student at an art college but you are also a student at a law school. Your father runs the family business of electronics. Yes the electronics company ranking the second best in the country out of all the other electronic companies, which he wants to hand over to your big brother after he retires. Your mother always wanted a child of her to be a sculptor. Borning late in the family with the talent of art you were forced to study this subject whereas you were interested in prosecution, catching criminals and stuffs. What you were most interested in were being a mafia or an assassin but you gave up on those dreams and decided to study law. Your parents only giving their all attention and care to their first born, didn't care about you that much. The only thing they wanted from you was becoming a great sculptor and bringing praise to your family.

After nights of confusion and judgement you decided to study in the law school that you got admitted, secretly with the money your grandparents left you. Your grandparents left some money for you and your brother before passing away and thankfully they were enough to pay for your study books expenses. But maintaining time for your law school as well as the art school was hard but you managed to make time after dropping off from some extra courses of the art college without telling your parents. But it was hectic. Your college hours starts from 7 am. And you have classes till 9am then a break at 9:15 am to 10:30 due to dropping off from some extra class. Your law classes starts from 9:30 so during the break you quickly leave the grounds and head off to the law classes. Then you return to the art college at 10:20 when it's a break at your law school. Then once again when it's a lunch break at the art school you head off to the law school while munching on some snacks, obviously not getting time to have proper lunch. And when it comes to events you had to make up excuses at the law school for not attending as your parents would obviously not skip their daughter's presentations.

It would be more hectic from today cuz you just applied to a job at a night club. There's a course for learning shooting at the law school but you don't have enough money to pay for that so it's time to earn some money.

•••

Stretching your arms while getting up from the seat you had been sitting on straight for 2 hours, you give a yawn before taking out a scrunchie and putting your hair up. All the classes for the day are done. Putting the back pack around your shoulder you bow at the teacher before leaving the school premises. Walking inside the bus and sitting on one of the seat you take out your phone and start typing to your mother , 'Mom I'll be late tonight as I got some extra lessons. Don't worry for me and you don't have to send car I'll come by bus'

"No one's gonna worry about me though"

You say to yourself while letting out a small laugh and looking out at the window. Everything vanishing from your sight at a fast pace as the vehicle picks up its speed upon seeing the empty road. Some of the street lights flickering due to not being fixed for several days now. You take out the 'guideline' paper of the bar you're gonna work in from backpack, going through the structure of the building in your mind and remembering all the rules explained to you yesterday when you went to apply for the job. This night club only seemed to be safe for you to work in now. By safe means you would have no worries of the common students who spends time in bars and clubs to see you. If anyone recognizes you then it's game over. Plus the pay is high too.

The phone screen lighting up as a notification popped up you unlocked the phone before seeing from whom the text is from.

Bro: heard you're coming late at night should I pick you up from the way while coming home?

"Geez already told him?"

You say to yourself once realizing that your mom told your brother to pick up but your brother being nice asked if you want to be picked up first or not. Smiling at his text before typing your reply It's ok you don't have to come. The office is far away from my college anyways. Get home safely.

Waiting for a few minutes to see his reply which you didn't get you turned off your phone and put it inside your bag. Looking out from the window thinking why he didn't reply when he saw your text whereas usually he would try to come pick you up, being the 'protective' brother. You got down from the bus as soon as the bus came to its stop. You walked for a few more minutes from the bus stop till arriving at your destination.

Hell's night club

•••

It's been only five minutes of you serving drinks but you're already tired. How can a human body and mind work for 13 hours straight without any rest. You did mess up some tables a couple of times for which you were now getting a scolding from the manager. You looking down bowing slightly while your hands in front of you.

"Miss Lee Y/N did you properly see the table numbers today? "

The old man asks to which you nod. "Then why are you messing up? " He asks in a raised voice making you flinch and quickly mumble a sorry. You lift your head up a bit to see the old man sighing while pinching his forehead, clearly visible that he's angry. "I'm letting you go as this is your first time don't make mistakes anymore"

He says making you bow and say

"Thank you"

He looked around trying to see if any waitresses are free. Sighing at how there's no one free without counting you he gave you a look before handing you a tray of various kinds of drinks. "Take this to table no. 14. And  do not  make any mistakes. They are regulars here I don't want them gone" Nodding at him you set off to find this table no. 14 . Noticing how your skirt got up a bit you tried pulling the skirt a bit down with one hand as the other one was holding the tray, you quickly withdraw your hand without fixing the skirt upon seeing the tray tremble in one hand. Quickly holding the tray in place and scanning if any drinks were spilled, you sigh in relief. You looked back to only lock eyes with the manager . He staring straight at you with his cold eyes. You gave a small awkward smile and walked towards table 14.

The table no. 14 seemed to be surrounded by many big men. All had some sort of tattoos on them. A familiar man sitting in the middle holding a pen and scribbling something on a notebook. His inked arms full on display as the silver earrings were still being able to shine despite the dullness in the scene. His long bangs falling before his eyes not letting anyone see the face beneath it.

You quietly approached the table and when you raised your eyes from the ground to the man sitting in the middle, your legs automatic came to a halt and your breath hitched.

Jeon Jungkook right there was sitting. The table in front occupied with various weapons and him sitting like a whole five course meal, fingers playing with the dangly earrings

This is totally not what I expected

#jungkook tattoo #jungkook ff #mafia jungkook #tattoo artist jungkook #jjk imagines #bts imagines #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #BTS jimin #bts hoseok #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #wow i'm posting

[r--at]

Can you do 18 with Gen z humor 🛀🔥

18: MC with gen z humor

Warnings: Cussing, some dark humor

Lucifer

He would be so annoyed at first.

Would be shook if you talked back to him.

Lucifer: MC...Mammon I swear if you two don't stop I'll-

MC: Bitch I hope the fuck you do, you'd be a damn ass son of a bitch if you tried

Lucifer: . . .

Mammon: . . . Yeah- what they said.

He is just in pure shock because of the amount of audacity one person can hold.

He is going to be so concerned about how many depressing jokes they make.

Super confused and definitely wonders if this is normal fo humans to find this kind of stuff funny.

Some comebacks he may find humorous, he just won't let you feel the power of seeing him amused.

Sometimes he has to power walk back to his room to hold back from laughing.

Mammon

He is also confused and freaked out with all the things they find funny.

He is terrified of them at first with all the things they laugh at, and he's like: did they just laugh when that child fell?

Though the thing that brings him closer to you is probably going to be the fact that not only are you brave enough to talk back to anybody, your talking back is also hilarious.

He'd turn into even more of a headache if your humor rubbed off on him.

Random demon: That's why you're broke, maybe if you learned how to save your mone-

Mammon:

MC: That's why yo mama dead, dead as hell, what money does she have huh? What money does she have in her casket? That's why yo granny ain't got no knees, she can't pray to jesus bitch.

Mammon bullying is not tolerated over here.

Oh you thought he was clingy? Well now you have the sin of greed clinging to your legs whenever he gets into trouble.

Leviathan

Yes yes yes

Someone that shares at least, close enough, his own humor.

Meme spamming, just randomly throughout the day you'll just spam eachother with memes.

Joke about each others mental illnesses together, perfect bonding time.

I can see you two yelling that yeet skrt song.

Levi:Yeet

MC:Yeet skrt

Levi:Yeet Yeet

MC:Skrt

Levi:Skrt skrt

MC:Roll up

Levi:Yeet

MC:Drop that

Levi:Yeet

MC:Skrt that

Levi:Pop that

MC:Aye Aye

Levi:Aye Aye

MC: You never loved me mom, but I needed you ~woah~

Satan

Definitely thinks you are a headache at first.

Would start to like you after seeing you talk back to Lucifer.

Would definitely invite you to prank Lucifer.

Your bonding time consists of roasting Lucifer or just random demons you dont like.

Satan: *calling Lucifer*

MC:

Lucifer: Yes?

Satan: *nods to MC*

MC: This is for Lucifer, you big fat, white nasty, smelling fat bitch

Why you took me off the motherfuking schedule with your trifling dirty white racist ass big fat bitch

And maluma body ass bitch.

Asmodeus

This is fine. This is fine. Did you just laugh after running into that door and getting a bloody nose?

Asmo....You just....Concern him.

But he will still hang around you because, bad bitch energy.

Will hype you up if you are arguing with a random demon again.

MC: You can't kill me, I'm a bad bitch.

Lucifer:

Asmo: Yes queen!

The jokes about trauma and darker, depressing stuff however, he is just kinda awkwardly laughing to play along because he doesn't know what to do.

Beelzebub

After every single bad or depressing joke you make about yourself, you will recieve a hug. You can't refuse.

Highly concerned about why you are laughing at such weird things...didn't you nearly fall down the stairs a second ago?

Will definitely watch over you like you are a child, to make sure you dont hurt yourself.

No offing yourself jokes tolerated in this facility.

MC: Y'know if I ate 480 bananas I wouldn't have to worry about doing my homework.

Beel: ..Why's that?

MC: I'd be dead.

Beel: Don't you do it.

And that's why the House of Lamentation ran out of bananas, and why Beel will no longer let you near them.

Belphegor

Just don't exsist too loudly, he has to get his hundreds of depression naps in.

Wouldn't mind you at first, unless he heard you laughing too loud.

10/10 Would drag you into some prank involving Lucifer as the victim.

Would probably joke about murder or mental illnesses with you.

But don't worry he wouldn't actually murder you. Or well, he wouldn't again.

MC: Hey Lucifer, what's red and bad for your teeth?

Lucifer: *sigh*

Lucifer: What?

MC: A brick.

Belphie: This is a threat.

Belphie will make sure you two leave Lucifer with an even worse headache than before.

Diavolo

This is okay, this is fine, this is normal, wait- was that supposed to be funny?

So confused.

Never knew humans could find such odd things so humorous.

Bad bitch? What's that? Definitely ended up asking Lucifer or Barbatos about it.

What in the chaotic energy is this.

Diavolo: And then they laughed...

Barbatos: MC laughed after having a breakdown about her grades?

Barbatos: That's not that bad.

Diavolo: I think I heard her say she wanted to kill herself...and then laughed again...

Barbatos:. . . Oh

Barbatos

Keep a straight face. Keep a straight face.

It's just some of the things you say make him internally die of laughter, not like you could tell.

He is slightly concerned when you start banging your head against the desk, or the wall, when you recieve your test grades back.

Solomon: You are so easy to piss off

MC: And you're so easy to make insecure, wait until I tell you about your big ass of a-

Barbatos:

Barbatos: *Internally wheezing*

On the outside he doesn't have much to any reaction to anything you say, but sometimes on the inside he is trying so hard to keep himself from laughing.

Solomon

He understands your humor...but sometimes its just... its...so random.

He's kinda just like wondering if he should get you to a therapist when you go back.

Asmo: And then he told me that pink just didn't fit me. Can you believe that!?

Solomon: Well-

MC: The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.

How have you not died? Just how.

With how much he see's you going off on people its just a wonder.

Simeon

This isn't funny MC-

Making fun of yourself is not okay.

Super confused on how you find literally any of this funny.

MC, you can do better, go read the bible, your humor needs it.

MC: look at this bitch. So gross. How do you live with yourself. Your life is a mess. Go see a therapist. You need some antidepressants or something!?

Simeon: Um..MC...That's your reflection.

MC: Chile anyways-

Hey, hey, hey no offing yourself jokes MC, this isn't funny, this isn't okay, no. No. No. Stop it.

Probably contemplates taking you to church at least five times a day.

Luke

Why're you laughing.

Please stop. This isn't funny MC.

Never watches horror movies with you. Ever.

MC this isn't supposed to be funny- why're you laughing after someone told you to burn in hell?

So concerned, scared, and confused.

Luke: MC- this isn't supposed to be funny?

Luke: Why are we watching this?

MC: Did you- *wheeze* Did you see the way that bitch just tripped while trying to run away?

No more horror movies, and no more unsolved murder documentaries for you MC.

#obey me luficer #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me simp

[local-ground-apple]

I saw requests are open for Pomefiore, so please... How about Pomefiore being absolutely in love? How would they react and think? They would confess to their love?

So, I didn’t do it yanderish and I wrote a small scenario per each. 

I seriously need to stop writing Vil kissing scenes 🙃 🙃

🦚 oh, he fell for a potato? Well, you must be a refined potato then, if you managed to catch his attention,

🦚 at first Vil seems indifferent. He’s not the type to rush into action after localizing his target  (like Rook) or dwell on his feelings (like Epel). No, he takes his time getting to know you better, 

🦚 you won’t even notice that he may have developed feelings for you. You’re convinced that your another target, just like Epel and you do your best to follow all the routines Vil implored on you. After all, being in Pomefiore was never supposed to be easy. You were certain he was treating you just like any other student from his dorm, making sure you look presentable, being strict and calling you potato,

🦚 yet Rook notices small slips and hints Vil is leaving. Soon he refrains from adressing you as a mere potato and calls you by your name, he won’t scold you for tiniest mistake brushing it off and pretending he hadn’t seen it or inviting you once for a smoothie, making everyone gasp in shock. Rook clearly see that you’re special,

🦚 Vil gets impatient soon. He craves your affection and wishes your attention would be focused on him. He wants to shower you in small kisses, leaving the trail of them on your neck, gently run his fingers through your hair and brush his lips against yours. Oh, he wants you so bad,

🦚 sometimes, Vil may seem distant, engrossed in his thoughts, yet he denies it when Rook confronts him about his behavior. He is just thinking of the perfect way he could confess to you. He absolutely wants it to be flawless, 

🦚 he seems confident that you won’t reject him. After all, who would reject Vil Schoenheit? Yet, he feels tad insecure deep down. Vil will never admit it, but the countless “what if” scenarios are playing in his head before confession,

🦚 you’re probably one of the few persons who managed to mentally frustrated and make Vil Schoenheit’s heart flutter. You achieved unachievable,

🦚 it was Neige Leblanche who pushed Vil to yeet his perfect confession plans into void and aggressively take the lead, (it’s always Neige or Lilia that either start apocalypse or change the course of history),

 Vil clicked his tongue in annoyance as exasperated sigh left his lips. He was tapping his heel impatiently, his arms firmly crossed on his chest, as his gaze was fixated on you.

Why were you taking so long talking with Neige?

Neige out of all bloody people.

Vil watched you giggling at some sort of joke Neige had made. Your bright and broad smile you were gracing Leblanche with, was driving him up the wall. Vil ignored Deuce and Ace bickering in the background, as well as Rook laughing at them, while Kalim and Jamil were nowhere to be found. Probably they were occupying food stalls.

Vil frowned. You all were supposed to have a rehearsal on the stage day before VDC, yet you all run into Neige who was more than eager to meet you.

Especially you. 

Vil was fully aware of how Neige hand brushed against yours, how he leaned a bit too close, how his fingers tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. Vil didn’t fail to notice how Neige’s eyes would stop on his annoyed form, clearly enjoying his visible jealousy or how we would smirk whenever his face was mere inches from yours and dorm leader was close to exploding.

Enough!

Here he was, Vil simply had to save you from Neige’s sly clutches. With a barely audible “tsk”, he aggressively walked to you. You slightly jumped, startled when Vil gripped your arm rather firmly. He didn’t give you the time to bid farewell to Neige.

,,Excuse us”

With that, Vil began dragging you away. You flashed an apologetic smile to Neige, trying to keep up with dorm leader’s rapid pace. Well, you weren’t blessed with long legs, like him. You quickly realized that struggling was pointless, his grip was too strong for you to wriggle out.

Vil was practically fuming with anger, ignoring your questions about what was going on. He soon stopped before a close room, pushing you inside and closing door. Now, you were beginning to feel nervous and, well, curious. Vil was never the type to personally drag you somewhere, it was always Rook’s job.

You raised your eyebrow, eyeing Vil with pure confusion written all over his face. He run his head through his hair and sighed deeply in frustration, before his gaze pierced through, making you take a step back. He looked so intense.

Vil quickly cut the distance between you two, his fingers firmly grabbing your chin, making you look straight in his eyes.

,,I don’t want you associating with that…that potato”

His words were dripping with disgust and malice, as a frown flashed on his face. You opened your mouth to say something, yet your words were muffled by soft lips pressing on yours. Your eyes widen and your hands subconsciously clutched the cuffs of his jacket, pulling Vil closer. He smirked, not breaking a kiss. 

He pulled away, his lips gently brushing against yours. Vil eyed you for a brief moment, before clicking his tongue. His thumb gently grazed over your lips, gently smearing the remaining lipstick.

,,My, my, looks like you need to apply it once again”

You nodded, still in shock, as your fingers touched your lips in disbelief. Vil only chuckled seeing your reaction. He swiftly turned around on his heel, briefly glancing at you.

,,I’d love to take you out for a nice lunch after rehearsal. I have a important confession to make”

With that Vil left, leaving you completely stunned with a fluttering heart.

🏹 Rook is rather quick to realise his burning feelings for you and he’s a man who would immediately began to act,

🏹 he does a research on you beforehand. Before he even approaches you and starts talking to you, he will spend several days observing you, taking notes about your habits and paying attention to your dislikes and favorites. Rook doesn’t view this as stalking, non, non, it’s just an extensive research,

🏹 when Rook feels that he had gathered enough informations, he’s first to approach you. He complimets your dazzling beauty and starts a small talk with you. He absolutely doesn’t hide his attraction towards you, non, non, he rather makes it crystal clear, 

🏹 Rook would flirt a lot. You would see him popping up in most random moments, always when you’re alone, meeting you by “pure coincidence”,

🏹 he worships your beauty even before he asks you out. Rook probably worte multiple poems or serenades concerning you and he’s more willing to read them to you on a proper date. You always get embarrassed and hide your frustrated face in your hands, when he showers you in praises out of blue, 

🏹 Rook asks you out rather quickly. Maybe after talking with you like three or four times. This man takes the risk without batting an eye,

🏹 and he’s rather dramatic about it, practically giving you a heart attack, 

You quickly scanned through your notes, knowing very well that even this rapid revision wouldn’t save you before Crewel’s class. You were absolutely doomed and you were well aware of that fact. You sighed defeated, staring at complicated notes concerning potions you had absolutely no clue about.

,,Prefect, watch out!”

You jumped, papers dropping from your hands and flying in the air, as the arrow pierced through the wall inches from your face. You could feel it teasingly brush against your cheek, yet not cutting your skin. Your eyes widen and you tried to steady your breath. You were sure your heart would jump out of your chest. Letting a heavy sign, you hesitantly and reluctantly reach for the note attached to the arrow.

You frowned, not understanding first few lines written in French.

Should have studied this bloody language when I had the chance.

You scanned neat, cursive handwriting and you could feel your heart flutter. You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, as you giggled slightly at the cheesy confession and invitation to romantic dinner with candles. Normally “in the middle of the forest at the ungodly hour” would make you concerned, but you were too flattered reading the attached translation of the poem basically worshipping your beauty.

You raised your head and looked around, trying to find a certain hunter behind bushes, but to no avail.

,,I accept!”

You yelled, ignoring Ace’s and Deuce’s “what the hell human” look.

,,Très bien!!”

You could swear the source of that voice was somewhere in bushes.

🏹 Rook won’t hesitate to confess and he declares his love to you on first date. Like literally, you would be enjoying your dinner, while he’s planting small kisses on your hand, making you beyond frustrated and almost choking on your food and suddenly Rook declares his feelings to you,

🍏 he’s confused at first. Very confused. What is this weird feeling in his stomach whenever he sees you? 

🍏 you two went from classmates to “we-escape-from-Vil-on-daily-basic” friends to “fuck-we-escape-from-Rook-too besties to finally best friends. Epel has viewed you as a friend for quite a long time. You were always there to listen to his problems, help sneak out of Rook’s eagle eyes and you comforted him whenever he felt upset,

🍏 Epel realized his feelings, when certain hunter began cooing over how “stunning you had looked surrounded by rough nature”, all that while sniffing your hair and holding your hand. He got jealous, frustrated and practically dragged you out of there,

🍏 Epel is rather shy and hesitant to confess. What if you turn him down? What if you don’t reciprocate his feelings and want to stay as friends? What if you find Vil more attractive than him? What if…

🍏 those constant questions haunts and torments Epel practically all the time he’s around you or you spend time in the company of other males,

🍏 you live in his mind rent-free,

🍏 when he finally gathered courage to confess everything went wrong. Rook crashed his confession unknowingly (or on purpose, who knows) and you got dragged away by Vil to attend to “urgent matter”

🍏 needless to say, Epel was beyond furious and fuming. If the whole world was set on stopping his declaration of love and prevent him from speaking from the bottom of his heart, then he will aggressively take the action,

 Sometimes you truly questioned your ventures to Diasomnia or more likely questioned why you had refused the escort Sebek or Silver were willing to provide. You sighed heavily, mentally facepalming yourself. Oh right, you wanted to show Malleus that you by no means were scared walking back to your dorm practically in absolute darkness.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Where was your prince on the white horse?

Apparently nowhere to be found.

,,Y/N”

Oh how you wished you weren’t so squeamish and easily scared. You let out a blood-curling scream, when a hand roughly turned you around, pressing you into the wall. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it could jump out of your chest, when your back collided with the cold surface. One hand rested beside your face, while the other one gripped your chin.

Before you could scream one more time and alert anyone, soft lips roughly crashed on yours, making you gasp from astonishment and pure confusion. You couldn’t see in the darkness face of the person desperately kissing you, yet the fragrance of fresh apples and gentle locks tickling your cheek smelling like Vil’s latest shampoo line, made you realized who it was.

Epel was kissing you.

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling yourself closer, as you deepened the kiss. His hands landed on your hips, cutting any distance between you two. Your chest gently collided with him. Epel pulled away, when he felt you were breathless.

You placed the hand of your heart, taking few deep breaths to calm your racing heart from fear and sensation of soft lips on yours.

,,What the?! You scared the hell out of me!”

“Well, that’s the only moment I can confess in peace without Vil’s chattering. And if you hadn’t screamed, I wouldn’t have to kiss you before telling you that I’m in love with you”

“WHO NORMAL CONFESSES LIKE THIS?!”

,,WAIT, LET ME CONFESS”

🍏 you accepted his messy confession either way, yet you did scold him few times for practically giving you a heart attack,

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #pomefiore #vil x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #twst rook #twst vil #twst epel #twisted wonderland writing #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagine #twst x reader #twst writing #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland x mc #requested

[iwavibes]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ;; fifty

----haikyuu social media au

iwaizumi y/n, inarizaki's new second year manager, has always been in love with kozume kenma. in an attempt to move on, she tries to divert her attention from him by focusing on her duties. however that seemed impossible as a group of pretty and affectionate boys seem to follow her.

besides, the only way to move on is to actually move on, right?

prev • masterlist • next

NOTE: not @ how i made this whole thing at 2AM 😃

word count: 800+

I may not be the best.

He thinks as he takes in another breath. Shirabu Kenjiro always had absolute thoughts. He knows his weaknesses, he understands them and tries his best to make up for them. In the face of adversaries, he knows when he drags other people down so he does all he can to not be a burden.

But behind his sarcastic and serious facade is a very insecure boy. He lacks in a lot of things, it's evident when compared to his teammates. Being the only one in the team who didn't join with a sports scholarship, he had to start from scratch. What skill he thought he had in middle school, pales drastically in the standard of the prestigious school.

He never liked to admit it but he was envious of everyone. He envied Goshiki for being part of the starting line up at just his first year, something he didn't accomplish. He envied Ushijima for being so powerful, a force to be reckoned with, a phrase no one would ever describe him. Shirabu doesn't plan on making a career around volleyball yet these thoughts continue to loom inside his mind.

But at this moment, as the ball lands perfectly on his fingertips, he feels at ease. Shirabu sets the ball just right, making a clear path for the ace to spike through.

He smiled to himself, satisfied.

Correction; I will never be the best.

However that small celebration was short lived as a frown overtakes his features. Nothing but pure concentration swims in his mind as the next serve hits.

He followed Tendou to try and stop the ball, only for it to bounce on his arm and down to the floor. Another point for the opposing team.

He tsked before moving to prepare for the serve. And if he was right, it was his serve right now. His frown deepened.

That title had always belonged to someone else.

Oikawa wore his signature smirk as he eyed the opposite side. Their gaze met one another briefly and Shirabu felt a small tingle went down his spine.

The opposing setter's body seemed to move like clockwork, a graceful flow as a result to numerous practices. He threw the ball up, the run up seemed to echo in Shirabu's ears as the whole stadium seemed to quiet down, before the loud sound of his palm hitting the ball rang across the court.

"Iwaizumi?" Shirabu asked in shock. "As in, Seijoh's ace Iwaizumi?"

Your laughter sounded like music to his ears and he couldn't help but to look at you in wonder. You nodded your head, all the while munching on the takoyaki he bought for you.

"Mhm," you gulped the food down, "I thought you knew?"

He shook his head, "obviously, I didn't."

Another round of chuckles fell from your lips. "Well, would you have still talked to me if you did?"

In all truthfulness, no, he probably wouldn't. However, being here, with you right now; hearing your laugh and listening to whatever stories you thought of, he thinks he probably would've regretted not speaking to you.

"If I didn't, I would've missed out on getting to know you." He thought out loud. His gaze was heavily planted on the floor, avoiding yours quite incessantly. You feel your cheeks warm a bit. A second passes before he lifts his head up to look into your eyes. "I'm glad I met you, y/n."

The heat overtaking your head was unbearable but you couldn't look away, not when he smiles up at you with a brightness that could easily rival the sun's. A bashful smile resonates on your lips.

"I'm glad I met you too, Shirabu."

Thankfully, Hayato managed to receive the serve. Although the receive was a but shaky, the frustration was evident in Oikawa's features. Shirabu patiently waited for the ball, feeling its familiar rubber texture touch his hands once again before pushing it to their ace.

A long rally ensues.

But I am strong.

If Oikawa's serve was loud then Ushijima's spike was deafening. Cheers rang all throughout the stadium as the members of the Aoba Johsai team slumped in utter defeat.

Hayato patted their setter's back in joy, "we're going to Nationals, baby!"

Shirabu chuckled quietly while the speaker told them to line up. He held his head up high, proudly thanking the people on the stands and bowing before walking to shake hands with his opponents.

He was now face to face with Iwaizumi Hajime and he had to stop himself from visibly showing how nervous he actually was. Your cousin held his hand in a firm grip and Shirabu had to clench his jaw in order to keep a straight face.

"Good game," Iwaizumi spoke up.

He nodded his head in agreement, "it was."

After the whole exchange, Shirabu felt his legs turn to jelly as he struggled to walk with his teammates out of the gym. Tendou laughed rather obnoxiously at the setter's expense but the boy didn't have the energy to tell him off. Not when he quickly took his phone out of his bag and immediately clicked on your contact name.

TAGLIST: @jesquisser @peteunderoos @rye-li @sophie-duck @elianetsantana @angrylittleriri @kpop-kk @winunk @mint-mai @applekenm @hoe4hq @atria-avior @kimkai-is-my-man @dabisdominion @yumeneji @courtneypaigemartin @misssugarless @sempiternal-amour @cleopatera @stickystrawberrysyrup @heavenini @that-chick212 @the-amaranthine @vanillakylee @atetiffdoesart @starryleafy @franko-pop @miyaosamusgf @peachiikichu @ughxghoul @bombardia @normalisthenewnorm @micheleinumaki @poppi144 @marissaraeblr @quiche-inoya @haengbokpixie @yeet-dude @luhvsnoir @heyheyararira @al3x1ss @nintendousimp @the-real-comically-insane @sakusagas @rory-cakes @cuddlesslut @lovie-but-anime ((can't tag)) @what-dose-nani-mean @respectfullysimping123 @pandauniverse

send an ask/message to be added!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu socmed au #haikyuu smau #hq smau #shirabu kenjirou #shirabu x reader #shirabu imagines #hq shirabu

[nuttytani]

The flying cat & the baker

summary: you are a sorcerer who owns a bakery in new york. one day, steve discovers your abilities when he walks in on your cat flying inside the shop on a broom.

fandom: marvel

pairing: steve rogers x gn!reader

warnings: lots of mentions of baked goods and the word "horny" just once (it's not nsfw, trust me)

a/n- heya! another fic~ this was inspired by girl in red's "fell in love in october". i know it's extremely off season but yeet i dont care + my dear friend @lorei-writes / @mllorei beta read this! *gives hug to lorey* thank you so much ;-; lorey. ps: this is a non-avengers!au

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Steve to get lost in the sea of New York streets, walking along the cobblestone paths, breathing in the scent of baked goods, spice and fresh flowers. After all, it was his most favourite part of his daily routine, discovering a new place or two. He took his time looking around the nearly empty street, for it was too early for anyone to be awake except for the store owners. They were all busy preparing their shops for opening to notice his presence.

Steve looked up for a moment, noticing the light of dawn setting upon the sky, sending small beams of yellow light like blessings cast by angels. His low breathing felt warm against his chapped and cold lips. With a silent sigh, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pea coat as he resumed strolling without a set direction in mind, eyeing the buildings- the chipped off parget, showing the reds and browns of the brick underneath while moss and vines covered most of the bottom half.

They all turned into a blur once he stood by a jade coloured bakery, the sign reading “magicae et pistoria”, a silhouette of a black cat on a broom just underneath it. He stared curiously at the displayed varieties of pastries and bread, wondering if he should buy a few- would Sam and Nat like to eat them?

With hesitant fingers, he grasped the door handle and entered, instantly greeted by the bell. Barely a few seconds passed, and Steve felt immensely at ease. His body appreciated the warm cocoon provided by the bakery- in contrast to the weather outside. The interior was rustic, with brick walls and wooden fixtures. His feet lead him magnetically towards the delicacies contained in the arched display, varieties of cakes, pastries and bread placed temptingly- he didn’t know which one to pick.

“Hello! Good morning, how may I help you, sir?” A voice pulled Steve out of his reverie.

Steve looked up to see you, your hair a mess, dust covering the black apron and your forehead, a cute smile adorning your face. You looked like an ethereal being- an angel perhaps, standing before him. Somehow, a breath got stuck in his throat, and his heart started to beat rapidly. He could hear it getting louder and louder. His clothes felt too tight, and he suddenly felt suffocated.

“Sir? How may I help you?” you said again.

Steve cleared his throat, embarrassed with himself for staring at you for much longer than necessary. He muttered an apology under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

“It’s alright, sir, happens all the time. I’ve experienced many people just gawking at the pastries and not knowing what to pick, it’s understandable! I’d be confused too,” you confessed to him.

“Right, of course, glad I’m not the only one or that would’ve been embarrassing,” Steve laughed, trying to bury his awkwardness.

Only if you knew the truth, he’d personally dig his own grave and jump into it.

Steve accepted your help instead of going down the rabbit hole of confusion. You helped him to pick out a few baked goodies- which were a rage amongst your regular customers; a chocolate mousse, Japanese cheesecake and a few vanilla custard doughnuts.

“Thank you! Have a good day,” you said, as the blonde man left the store with a wave.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t look too nervous,” wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, you heaved a sigh of relief.

You usually didn't open the bakery on the weekends, but some things needed to be done, which required your presence. You were sure that no one would come along so early in the morning but were proven wrong. Although it was your fault to leave the open sign hanging, you didn't mind the blonde-haired man and maybe thought he was kinda cute.

You flipped the sign to “closed” while locking the door from inside, as to make sure no one could come in. You moved back to the counter and caught a hand wrapping around a glass jar.

You cleared your throat and glared at the man in question.

“What do you think you’re doing mister.” You folded your arms and glared at the brunette.

“What does it look like? I’m trying to eat some cookies, obviously. You should get your eyes checked if you can’t see things clearly boss,” Rajeev replied and swiftly turned to look at you.

The brunette shrunk and transformed into a black cat, looking at you with bright doe hazel eyes while purring deeply. You groaned and picked him up, placing him on your shoulder.

“There’ll be consequences if you transform like that out of nowhere, and your sister is going to kill me because you haven't been careful. So, if you don’t want me to be skinned alive and thrown into a cauldron to be boiled, stop doing that here.” Truly, nothing scared you more than Rajeev’s elder sister- she was overprotective and intimidating, you wished to never be on her blacklist.

Rajeev only meowed back at you, which frustrated you further. You hoped that he at least understood where your concerns were coming from.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot of organising to do! New stock arrived today, we don’t want cranky sorcerers waiting for us,” you said while muttering a spell and opening a red portal to an apothecary.

By the time Steve returned home, his friends were all awake and wandering about the kitchen like zombies. They all knew about Steve’s early morning walks and didn't question him but were curious as to why he came back so late.

Sam immediately rummaged through the bakery boxes when Steve placed them on the island counter.

“So...what took you so much time, hmm?” asked Sam. “Thought you just went to get some bread, dude.” He rummaged through the bag and pulled out a box, ooh-ing delightedly once he got hold of a doughnut.

“I bet it was some grandma asking for directions,” Bucky yawned, still half-asleep as he took a seat on the chair.

Natasha stole the doughnut from Sam and promptly turned to face Steve, who lay on the couch.

“Maybe, he has a secret lover! Oh Stevie, how could you hide this from us?” she said teasingly while licking away at her sugary fingertips.

Sam was distressed by her stealing and guarded the boxes with his arms, grumbling something about him not having enough coffee for this.

“Can you guys just stop- I just went to a bakery and got stuff, nothing more, nothing less!” Steve raised his voice.

All of them just shrugged.

Nat broke the silence, “Okay...But did you see any cuties?”

“NO- I mean... yes, kinda… I mean- Stop asking me these questions!” groaning with embarrassment, Steve covered his face with his palms.

Steve started frequenting “magicae et pistoria” since then to the point he became a regular customer. Not because he wanted to see your dazzling smile or anything, but because the service and baked goods were really good and his friends wanted more of that deliciousness. He became quite close to you as a result, somedays he just dropped by to say hi and spend some time with you.

Occasionally, Sam or Bucky would tag along to his trips. Even though Steve would deny it, they could clearly see he had a crush on the baker- it was obvious by their playful banter and flushed faces. They’d often tease him about it, but Steve being Steve, would just grump away and aggressively change the subject.

Another weekend rolled in, Steve was headed to the bakery as usual. It became a part of his routine to visit it during his morning walks. You, on the other hand, arrived late to the bakery and were rushing to get the place running in no time. It was just you and Rajeev today since your other employees didn't work on the weekends- it was tough but both of you managed.

While you were busy running around the place, Rajeev was playing around in his cat form, saying you didn’t really need him until later. He levitated the spare broom in the air and jumped on it, trying to balance his paws on the handle. Like a child with no care, he flew the broom back and forth across the room with an evil cat smile.

The two of you were unaware of Steve’s presence until he spoke in a startled voice.

“Why is the cat flying on a broom- what is this!”

Everything happened in a flash, Rajeev fell off the broom with a pathetic meow and you dropped your utensils on the floor. Flour and batter splattering on your shoes and creating a mess. Your scream resonating from the kitchen.

Steve’s jaw was slack with shock, his body frozen where he stood. Should he run away? Should he go and check if you’re alright? He wasn’t sure what to do, he didn't even know if what he saw was even real.

The cat was definitely real, as it stood up and rubbed its bum with its paws. How was that possible- Did he even want to know? Was he dreaming? Maybe he is still half asleep and is seeing things.

Steve grabbed a nearby stool and flopped on it, his knees were weak from shock and needed rest. His mind was still processing the situation

You came rushing from the kitchen to the scene, the mess you created all trivial compared to what had just happened right now. You didn't know what to do at this moment, should you tell the truth? Or deny everything-

“What is that thing,” Steve finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“A cat,” you replied as a matter of factly.

“You keep a flying cat?”

You just stared at Steve with a straight face and said, “Well...firstly he’s not mine and secondly he’s not an actual cat.”

As if showing a demonstration, Rajeev transformed back into his human form, which baffled Steve further.

“What are you?” the blonde asked in confusion.

“We’re sorcerers...I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know about it, at least not in this way,” you sighed, gently placing a hand over Steve’s knee.

“But boss- we’re busted, now that he knows we gotta turn him into a toad!” Rajeev exclaimed.

“A WHAT NOW?!” Steve looked back at you with raised brows.

“We’re not turning you into anything! He’s just joking- Rajeev! Apologise to him”

The brunette sulkily grumbled an apology. He excused himself to the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made while you took a seat next to Steve.

“Are you alright? Want some water?”

“No thanks, I’m fine. Just...really really shocked- I can’t believe this is real.”

With a flick of your hand, you made two barstools twirl in the air.

“Okay- definitely real,” Steve chuckled.

Extra (few months have passed)

Steve sat on the armchair with you sprawled on his lap, tapping away at your phone while Sam, Nat and Bucky sat on the floor watching another episode of “the Bridgerton” on T.V.

“Damn kids these days be really horny huh?”

“Shh just watch the show!”

+ "-if you enjoyed reading this fic, don't forget to give a like and reblog! feedback is always appreciated

a/n-if you enjoyed reading this fic, don't forget to give a like and reblog! feedback is always appreciated + join my taglist here

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #marvel #mcu #tani writes!!

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

A Calm Storm Raged.

Chapter One.

Ororo Munroe x Erik Killmonger x T’Challa

N’Jadaka,” 

T’Challa made his way into Erik’s rather large and extra palace suite, arms behind his back and shoulders straight. He had on a beautiful gold and purple Dashiki with matching linen pants, feet covered in Shuri’s new collection of sneakers that were sound proof and made with vibranium. 

“What?” He replied malevolently. 

Erik was in the middle of being rubbed down with fresh, raw Wakandan Shea Butter from the popular and historic Shea Trees of the Wakandan jungle. Supposedly the butter has long lasting protection for days and healing elements for scars, bumps, and bruises. The palace maid looked timid as she applied the butter to Eriks naked form, avoiding his ass and dick completely. T’Challa looked on with annoyance, not really thrilled to see his cousins bare behind with his doors wide open.

“I SAID WHAT?” His cousin's sharp tone caused the girl to drop the container of butter. 

“We are having a royal dinner and I would like you to meet my fiancé.” T’Challa didn’t feel like getting into a banter with N’Jadaka today. 

“Fiancé? What ever happened with you and that annoying ass bitch Nakia?” Erik admired himself in his full length mirror like he was the fairest of them all, stroking his goatee and looking at his muscles glistening from the melted Shea butter on his skin. T’Challa rolled his eyes at Erik’s vain personality. 

“Nakia is NOT a bitch… and it did not work out for us.” T’Challa wanted to get past that, move on. He was getting married to Ororo Munroe. She was more so known as Storm being a part of the X-men. T’Challa did have his doubts with Erik meeting Ororo but this was his family and the Kenyan princess would be a part of the Royal family as well.

“Yeah, she's not a bitch, you were.” Erik laughs, “she had you wrapped around her finger, bruh.” 

“For one SECOND N’Jadaka can you please act civil! Ororo doesn’t need to witness nor be apart of your mess-“

“What am I doing? You’re the one that walked up here all high and mighty trying to tell me to act right. I’m a grown ass man, T’Challa. I’ll play nice for your little Fiancé though,” Erik looked down at the wakandan maid, admiring her pretty braided hair and chocolate skin. Puckering his lips, he air kissed her dangerously, his dick all in her face making her shiver. 

“Sakra, you may leave,” T’Challa called to the girl, glaring at Erik for toying with her like that.

“Yes, my king,” Sakra lifts from her crouched position, capping the butter and bowing to Erik before making her leave. T’Challa smiles softly at her, brushing her past as he focused back on his maddening cousin, finally wearing black linen pants and a wool black robe to match. 

“Remember, N’Jadaka, you are a royal prince now. You can’t go around doing such things like that. ufanele ube neentloni,” T’Challa could feel his beads buzzing, preferring it on silent when he was within the palace. 

“Shuri, is dinner ready?” T'Challa looked at his younger sister’s holographic figure, a big grin on her face and hair out in its natural afro. 

“Why else would I be calling, brother?!” 

“A new discovery? Maybe to annoy me like the sister you are?” T’Challa bantered. 

“I’ll save that for later. Where are you?!”

“N’Jadaka’s room. Tell Queen Mother to hold on for us. Is Ororo there?”

“She is, and she looks so beautiful! Nakia would be jealous!”

“Aye! Stop it!” T'Challa's African accent was strong.

“All good fun, hurry up!” Shuri ended the call.

Erik was putting on his last minute jewelry that was unnecessary. Golden Jaguar necklace, gold fangs, kimono beads, and even gold rings.

“It’s just food, N’Jadaka.” T’Challa shakes his head. 

“Mad you can’t pull this off?” He teased his cousin, smiling with those killer dimples.

“ndingathini? Kumkani” T’Challa finally breaks his shell, arrogance showing through. Erik’s jaw clenched with anger, annoyed with the fact that T’Challa had to constantly remind him that he was the fucking King. Just months ago he YEET his ass over the cliff damn near killed him. He would YEET his ass over the balcony of his palace room right now if it wasn’t for his more civil nature. 

“You love using that against me, don’t you?” Erik’s tone was dark just like the jade color of his eyes. 

“Just a gentle reminder since you enjoy being an ass,”  T’Challa laughs, turning to leave.

“Enjoy it while you can, nigga.” Erik could only hope that T’Challa would fall ill or some shit. Maybe if Iron man didn’t reverse the effects of the snap Erik would still be king while filling the space. Being a ruler of Wakanda felt good. He missed that. Now, he was back to being Prince N’Jadaka and lead General for the Wakandan War Dogs.

“Calm yourself, N’Jadaka. Remember who spared your life.” T’Challa didn’t wait for a response, closing Erik’s double doors made of pure gold.

—-

Ororo Munroe sat within the grand dining hall that was surrounded by the tropics. She had a long backless lilac dress on with her silver hair flowing over her pretty brown shoulders. The layout was simply too much but she understood the reasoning. Looking down at the rare amethyst rock carved into a ring on her finger, she twirled it back and forth to watch it catch the rainbows. 

T’Challa was going to be her husband. She said yes before she could stop herself. There were strong mutual feelings back when she was a teen after finding her way to Serengeti. Deciding it was best to part ways, Ororo hadn’t seen him again until a year ago when he joined up with The Avengers. 

Ororo sipped her aged wakandan rum, thinking about how she would become the Queen in only a few short weeks. Pressing a hand to her forehead, Ororo tried to calm her anxiety, the feeling of walls closing in around her triggering her claustrophobia. She needed some wild mava kush blend that a friend of hers of the Botanical Society of South Africa made. The kush always calmed her nerves when she felt on edge.

Three large raps of a gold staff alerted everyone in that room, all of them standing to their feet followed by Ororo. First entered Shuri, then came the Queen Mother, Ramonda. Ororo smiles, bowing her head respectively at Ramonda as she took her place next to Shuri who waved animatedly at Ororo. Next came a face she hadn’t seen before but heard about. The unknown cousin to T’Challa that seemed to stir everyone within that room. 

N’Jadaka.

Ororo noticed his rather loose form, egotistical walk, and dark eyes. Seating himself next to Shuri, N’Jadaka doesn’t even look her way, grabbing the bottle of aged rum and pouring himself a generous amount that slushed wildly within his golden goblet covered in African gemstones. Ramonda gave him a warning look, causing Erik to kiss his teeth, sitting the bottle back in the center. 

“KING T'CHALLA. King of Wakanda!!!”

Everyone stood, even Erik out of respect even though he looked as if it pained him. T’Challa enters, that same rigid form and intense authoritarian eyes sweeping across the room silencing everyone. 

“kulilungelo ukuba nive nonke. wakanda naphakade!” 

T’Challa did the signature Wakanda symbol, everyone in that room following up including Ororo. 

“WAKANDA FOREVER!!!!!” 

T’Challa smiles warmly, walking forward with his eyes on Ororo. She returned the same gaze, waiting for her fiancée to speak.

“Today’s meal is a celebration for my beautiful Fiancé, Ororo.” Eyes were the spotlights for Ororo. 

“She will be the new Queen of Wakanda beside me, and I could not have chosen a better woman. Beautiful, strong, caring. Me and Ororo have a history that none of you would understand. I am the luckiest that I’ve ever been, and that is luckier than being King.” 

Ororo watched as T’Challa walked towards her, the dining hall silent as their king approached the future queen. Even in a room full of people he looked like he wanted to eat her. Storms name, Ororo, translated in her language as beauty which best suited her. The magical aura she possesses from her ancestors being sorceresses and priestesses automatically gave her appeal aside from her striking beauty. Full lips, eyes that changed the color of her hair when her powers were in full force, skin so smooth it was chocolate silk, smell of tropical rain and peppermint scented pelargonium on her skin. She was T'Challa's weakness. Ororo stood, taking T’Challa’s hands in hers, watching as he brought them to his mouth to kiss gently. His inviting mocha eyes made her eyelids flutter. He gave her a teasing smile and a wink in return. 

“So beautiful,” he rubbed her cheek with his knuckles, causing the powerful woman to blush. 

“Panther Goddess Bast sent you to me,” T’Challa whispers between them before placing a kiss to her lips again. What they hadn’t realized was that every man at that table looked at her like a piece of meat. Their mouths watered, skin prickled, hearts pounded. The strong magical pull affected them all. Even Erik. He never looked at Nakia…but Ororo…

“Let’s eat! We can’t let this wonderful Wakandan meal go to waste!” T’Challa’s voice snapped everyone out of their reverie. 

Everyone agreed cheerfully, cooks and palace maids passing around meals and filling goblets with rum or pomegranate juice. T’Challa seats himself next to Ororo, pouring his own glass of rum. Raising his glass, Ororo follows suit, clinking glasses with him before taking a long sip. She needed that drink with how intense things were going. Eyes sweeping about the room, Ororo watched everyone talk Xhosa, eat delicious food, and drink the strong rum like they were chugging water. Placing a lock of her thick hair behind her ear, Ororo’s cinnamon gaze landed on a pair of obsidian colored ones. Locked in a staring contest, she watched the brewing flame within his eyes almost spark her. Scanning her body painfully slow, N’Jadaka takes her in like it was for the first time, learning her from across the table. She felt completely bare under his eyes, a hand coming up to clutch her chest. He smiled smugly. 

“That would be N’Jadaka. My cousin.”

Ororo blinked, looking over at T’Challa’s handsome face as he chewed his slow cooked Oxtail.

“N’Jobu’s son?” 

“Yes. He looks like him, doesn’t he?”

“A little, not the dimples...they must be his mothers.” Ororo wondered who his mother could be.

“His mother is American.” T’Challa grabs a Chapatis to scoop up some spicy red sauce. He was so invested in his food that he hadn’t noticed the lust and interest in his own cousin's eyes towards his fiancé. 

“Arabella is the Cairo princess, correct?” T’Challa asks.

“Yes, not particularly a favorite with her bending of the rules but she’s getting better.” 

“I wonder if we could get her and N’Jadaka to meet? Maybe he would be interested.” 

Ororo looked at T’Challa quizzically, “You would like to arrange that?” 

“Why not? He could use a distraction. Erik needs a companion besides his five cats that roam the castle. A prince single? He should be with someone.” T’Challa laughed to himself, humor and mischief in his eyes.

“We both know how horrible Arabella is. She wouldn’t be a great girlfriend or wife, T’Challa.” Ororo senses that T’Challa wanted to do this on purpose because of the tension between them both.

“You aren’t playing fair, T’Challa,” Ororo spoke with a soft and alluring tone, “just because you are upset with how things are with your cousin doesn’t mean you should interfere with who he falls in love with.” 

T’Challa breathes out a sigh, shaking his head before forking a potato, “He talks to me like I didn’t heal his wound. He doesn’t respect me as King.” That was a personal situation Ororo did not want to get into at the moment. She decided to leave the matter alone for now, turning to her food. 

—- 

Throughout the dinner, Ororo avoided Eriks heated eyes and kept her glass of rum close. Why was he so interested? He clearly had no respect for T’Challa with the way he looked at her like he wanted to fuck her. She considered sweeping him away with a sudden tornado but that would only kill everyone in that room minus her. Plates were replaced with dessert and at this point Ororo couldn’t take any more food. Just when things were going well, the doors to the dining hall opened revealing two women wrapped beautifully in gold traditional wakandan gowns, natural hair in goddess locs. One was slightly shorter and plump while the other was tall and slender. Silence filled the large open space as the two women stood firm at the tail end of the table, waiting for a response or instruction. Wiping his mouth with a cloth, T’Challa takes his stand, the same ruling stance that hushed the room. Erik looked from the women to T’Challa, a knowing look on his face and the urge to laugh ready to explode within him.

Did this nigga really just do this?

All that power made his head swell and Erik couldn’t wait to see Ororo’s reaction to this. Erik chanced a look at Queen Mother, he could even see the disgust that she tried to hide. Everyone else was clueless and it made Erik want to beat it into their skulls with his Nguni stick that he used for combat. 

“Bold,” Erik drinks more rum, wiping the sneer from his face quickly. He wanted to have a little fun. Why not fake surprise just like the rest? He could look at Ororo and give her a reassuring look to calm her hurt. Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off her for a second. The woman was beautiful. It was her skin mostly, it glowed. No… maybe it’s her eyes. She had sexy eyes.

On second thought it was her lips. Erik almost broke his goblet in half from how hard he held it. She was gonna marry T’Challa. How unfortunate. T’Challa cleared his throat, motioning for the two women to speak. 

“I am Chioma, daughter to G’foru, warrior of the water tribe.” She was the plump one.

“And I am Hadiya, daughter to Akuchi, Jabari tribe.” The taller one spoke. 

T’Challa watched as the Dora followed suit standing from their seats. Ororo waited with confused eyes, flickering from the women to T’Challa. She shifted slightly, clearly feeling out of place.

“We are here to serve our king as sisterwives for Queen Ororo.” 

An entire uproar filled the room, some outraged while others agreed. 

“SILENCE!” T’Challa spoke loudly, quieting the room. 

Erik could not keep his composure. His laugh was the only sound in that room. After about five glasses of the strong rum, Erik’s mouth was sure to get him in trouble.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WENT AND GOT TWO OTHER WOMEN TO BE YOUR WIFE!” Ororo screamed so loud that her glass shattered. 

Shuri stomped on Eriks toes, shutting him up. He looked at her like she was stupid, toes burning from the pain. Ororo sat still and stared at the women who looked straight ahead like two dumb ass statues. She could feel her ears ringing now from her rising anger.

“Thank you, N’JADAKA, for your amusement. My cousin always knows when to make light of a situation, right, cousin?” T’Challa spoke sarcastically. 

Erik could see the scorching rage in T'Challa's eyes that was masked with a forced smile. Huffing, he keeps eye contact until he looks at Ororo with a lopsided grin. He could see her energy crackling around her. T’Challa didn’t need to worry about Erik, more so Ororo.

“My King, should we go?” Hadiya asks, eyes reading otherwise.

“No,” T’Challa looked over at Ororo’s angry face, “You will stay. The Dora can take you to your rooms and food will be there waiting for you. I’ll be there soon.” 

Excitement poured through both women as they followed behind the Dora, excluding Okoye who even had a look of utmost shock on her face. 

“THE DINNER WILL CONTINUE AS BEFORE!”

T’Challa took his seat again, grabbing up his fork to continue eating. He completely blocked out Ororo’s glare towards him. Her eyes could be felt briefly changing from cinnamon to silver but all that changed when Ramonda’s warm and nurturing hand gripped hers. 

——

After dinner, everyone joined T’Challa in the throne room where he sat alongside Ororo watching his Wakandan people dance and drink the night away. He felt proud to be the ruler of these people. Ororo however sat lazily in her chair, twirling her eighth glass of rum with great interest. Her long claw shaped nails painted black could be sharp enough to scratch the grins off of her sister wives faces. They danced seductively for T’Challa, gaining his attention in the eyes and in his crotch. Ororo almost gagged. She and T’Challa had a lot to discuss after this unnecessary party. 

“I think I need to get some air. My claustrophobia is making me suffocate.” Ororo whispered to T’Challa softly.

“Take as much time as you need, Ororo. I will be here waiting for you.” 

Accepting his kiss, Ororo stood from her throne chair, walking down the platform with her pretty bare feet and towards the large royal balcony of the palace. The noise faded out as she sipped her rum and walked. The smell of the fresh wakandan air was always soothing and pulled to her aura. Sitting her glass down and causing it to shatter, Ororo gripped the vibranium edge of the balcony, letting out calming breaths.

How could he do this to her? How could he still make her feel second? When things didn’t work out for them in the beginning he ended up with Nakia. Now that things didn’t work out between them he made his way back to Ororo. She always fell for his dazzling smile and chocolate skin. Her hands were in her hair now, scrunching the long silver strands like a mad woman. She adored this man, but he was fgoing to marry two other women to ‘sow his Royal oats’. 

“You want some company, beautiful?”

Turning, Ororo spotted N’Jadaka approaching, a cigar in hand and a drink in the other. Taking a puff, he blew out smoke into the fresh air, licking his lips afterward to take a drink. Ororo looked him over, noticing the scarring on his torso. Imagine how much pain he had to be in to do that to himself. This man that T’Challa despised had a story that caught Ororo’s attention.

“It represents the people I’ve killed. I don’t think you want to know the number.” Sneering, Erik approached her, skin smelling like African fantasy: luscious fruit and musk giving him a sweet but sexy aroma. Ororo turned away, breathing in through her nose. The rum was clouding her brain. She can’t be attracted to T'Challa's cousin...that was wrong.

“That’s the second glass you broke within the past two hours, you good?” That Oakland drag made her belly flutter. It felt good to hear an American speak. She faked an American accent living there for so long as a reporter turned X-men.

“As you can see, N’Jadaka, I’m not all well.” Ororo brushed her hair over her shoulder.

“He is a fucking idiot,” chuckling, N’Jadaka offered some of his rum to Ororo, but she kindly declined.

“Just more for me then, Isondo,” she could hear the flirty nature in his tone.

“Don’t call me that. It’s disrespectful to refer to me as sexy when I am your cousin's fiancé.” Ororo gripped her upper arms as if covering herself.

“You cold?” N’Jadaka’s husky voice practically singing in her ear.

“No. Can you back up?” She shot daggers at him with her eyes, causing N’Jadaka to step away. 

“Fiery. I like that,” he laughs smugly, drowning the rest of the rum and focusing on his cigar, “He doesn’t deserve a woman like you. T’Challa thinks he can have whatever the fuck he wants and clearly having you is the golden egg. Too bad you look like you’re ready to rage a fucking storm.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She sassed him.

“I would actually. I heard about what you can do. Show me.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Show me what storm is all about,” N’Jadaka invades her space again, eyes on the evening sky.

“Show me lightning.” Blinking away from the stars, he looked down on her, “Show me a thunderstorm, no...a hurricane.” 

His eyes were wild and lustful. Ororo blinked away tears, her psionic powers over weather affected by her emotions. She often suppresses extreme feelings to prevent her emotional state from resulting in violent weather.

“And I heard about how cunning you are. You used to be a thief, right? So did I. I bet me and you could have made the perfect team. Stealing vibranium, giving back to our people the proper way, beating niggas asses and snapping necks,” N’Jadaka took his fingers to touch her soft hair, “You’re dangerous just like me.” 

Ororo smacked his hand away, touching her hair as if it were infested, “You’re disgusting. You can have any woman you want and you choose to chase me?” 

“I always get what I want.” He said with a dangerous smile 

“You sure? You didn’t get the throne. T’Challa did that.” 

“Yeah...he did. That’s where I fell short but I’m here. I’m in Wakanda now and I still bark orders and make decisions. I’m the one that pushed T’Challa to open the Outreach Centers. If it wasn’t for me, none of that shit would have fucking happened.” 

Ororo looked at N’Jadaka with great interest, “That was you? You made him do that?”

“In a fucked up way that resulted in me getting stabbed through the chest, yeah.” Her pretty cinnamon eyes had him hooked. 

“Wow...I praised him for that and I should be praising you.” Forgetting her recent disinterest in touching him, Ororo grabbed his hands, grateful eyes dancing with tears.

“I’m happy he finally opened his eyes. You made that happen.” As quickly as she held his hands she let go. N’Jadaka felt a void.

“You didn’t have to stop touching me. Your skin feels good against mine.” His face was dangerously close to hers, their noses almost connecting.

“Did I make you feel better?” He asks in a hushed tone.

“...Not so much. But thank you.” Ororo tucks her chin bashfully only for N’Jadaka to lift it, forcing her to look at him.

“I like what I see...and apparently so do you.” 

“I’m not...I can’t N’Jadaka.” 

“Erik.” 

Confused Ororo looks down at his chest, “Who is Erik?”

“Me. My American name. My alias,” he looked at her juicy lips, “I prefer that anyway.” 

“You’re too close, Erik. What if someone sees?”

“So what? I don’t give a fuck about their opinion of me. They already have their minds made up about me anyway so fuck them.” His hard exterior caused Ororo to step back. He was a force to be reckoned with. Erik was the type of man to ruin her in good and bad ways. The temptation to allow this man to use her body was slowly surfacing. His wild nature was like a drug to her.

“I have to go. T’Challa will be wondering where I am.”

“Only if you give him a reason to. I can take you to my private Villa in the mountains? You can let me fuck you like I know you want me to. I bet T’Challa never ate the pussy.”

Ororo gasped from the vulgar comment, covering her cleavage with her silk lilac dress. This man had no pause. He had no filter. Just blunt and obscene.

“You know about the irvingia gabonensis of African trees? There are some planted in the Wakandan jungle,” Erik takes her hair, placing it behind her ear, 

“some people call them wild mango, African mango, bush mango, dika or ogbono.”

Ororo’s eyes went low from his smell and the warmth of his touch against her ear. He was enticing her.

“They Bear these edible mango-like fruits that if extracted of their juices can arouse the person,” Erik takes her fingers, kissing each one slowly with his eyes on her. She couldn’t breath at all, her phobia back again like the wakandan air didn’t matter.

“You can ask any woman in Wakanda where they like that juice to be,” Erik nibbled the tips of her fingers, Ororo gasping with pleasure. 

“I bet your pussy tastes like irvingia mangos,” his dark chuckle finally did its job with making her pussy wet. Her pussy hadn’t been this wet in a very long time. She thought T’Challa was the only man to ever make her drip as much as she did but here comes Erik with the same effect on her horny body. It was wrong, but sexual desire could cloud your better judgment.

Leaning in close, Erik whispers against her ear, his nose in her good smelling hair.

“If you let me eat I’ll show you just how good I can juice that sweet pussy over and over on my tongue.” 

Ororo bit her lip, fingertips sparking. She imagined laying on Eriks bed, allowing this man to please her with his tongue for hours and making her scream and shout. It was so nasty and bad to think of doing that in the same space as the King but the old Ororo didn’t have remorse. He had those perfect lips to sit her pussy on and ride his face. 

“I’m getting married, Erik, I can’t do this.”

“You don’t wanna be in a poly relationship, Ororo. You telling me you would rather torture yourself? Nah, I don’t believe that. I’m finna take you back to my room and fuck some sense into you.”

“Are you hearing yourself?!!!” Ororo looked around to be sure no one could hear, “You’re insisting on sleeping with me and without a thought as to how this will hurt the royal family?”

Erik kisses his teeth, “Ramonda doesn’t approve, Shuri sure as hell doesn’t and neither should you. The Dora will kiss T’Challa feet before going against him. We ain’t gotta deal with that!”

Erik gripped the sides of her face, eyes boring into hers intensely.

“All you gotta do is say yes. And it’s not the rum talking. I really wanna take you away from him.”

“You don’t even know me. What makes you think I would jump and do that?” 

“Because I already got your attention. All you need is a little push.” 

Ororo took one look at his lips, biting her own before leaning in to taste him. His tongue deep down her throat and grunts deep, Ororo moaned. His tongue wiggles and curls like a garden snake and his lips rubbed hers like soft pillows against her face.

“Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth, allowing Erik to suck on her tongue. He was so nasty and demanding. Gripping the back of his head, Ororo battles him, the sloppy passionate kiss making her stomach tightened and her pussy wetter. She could even feel the hardening of her nipples rubbing his studded chest through her silk dress.

“Mhm,” he moaned in return, pleased with his accomplishment. She was so tasty. Ororo pulled away, gasping for air only to give Erik room to invade her neck with his long pink tongue that stroked like a slippery reptile. She shuddered, back arching like his tongue was deep in her pussy. Ororo bounces slightly with need, mimicking the way she would bounce on his tongue if he told her to. Her eyes turned silver, night sky swirling until a strong wind brushed past, closing the balcony doors. Pausing their kiss, Erik looks her dead in the eyes with a sly smirk, getting on his knees now and lifting her dress up and over his head. The high split of the dress revealed her long toned legs draped over his shoulder. Bracing herself on the balcony edge, Ororo could feel her panties slipping to the side while Erik pulled her petals apart. 

“Fuck,” she widened her legs, Eriks flat and thick tongue brushing everywhere like he was licking a plate clean. He wiggles that damn tongue against the underside of her clit, alternating between sucking and slurping. Mouth wide and wordless, Ororo clawed the vibranium, hips moving in conjunction with his tongue. She closed her eyes in defeat, all regrets long gone as this man ate her pussy like no other. He circled her clit with his pointed tongue, earning a cry. The tears in the back of her eyes fought to fall from how amazing he ate her. 

“Erik,” she whined. He had her begging.

Now he had the nerve to tongue fuck her pussy. Careful not to fall over the edge Ororo held her legs open wider, sliding down on his tongue to give him all of her.

“You’re so good at this, ahhh, it feels so good, N’Jadaka.” She cradled his head closer, rubbing over him gently. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, heart racing at the thought of being caught by T’Challa or anyone for that matter. The long billowing curtains that covered the Palace doors did hide them but that didn’t mean that someone couldn’t be peeking right now. She repeatedly moaned out with every movement Erik made, her intoxicated body moving in slow motion. Drunk or not this felt AMAZING.

“Right there, fuck, yes, right there,” her hitched breath caught in her throat, body frozen as Erik decided to add two fingers inside of her. She could hear him laughing beneath her. Tired of him hiding, Ororo lifted her dress away from his head, lust filled eyes holding his dark and sinister gaze. This man was pure evil sucking on her pussy like a beast. She grabbed a fist full of his tapered dreads, guiding his head as he sucked her clit and finger fucked her pussy.

“Erik!” She was ready to explode.

“Give me all that juice, baby,” he pushed her and pushed, coaxing her with a curl of his fingers.

“Cum on my fucking tongue.” With his command, Ororo shouted so loud it felt like the party beyond those doors ended to see what the screams of pleasure were all about.

“You taste so damn good. Your pretty sweet pussy tastes just like I like it. So pretty and good, baby.” 

Erik kisses her entire pussy with love, watching with greedy and admiring eyes as the Storm goddess moaned and weakly spoke his name.

“Erik...oh, Erik...Erik…”

He savagely started eating her again.

#killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #tchalla #black panther #storm #nahimjustfeelingit writes

[themadauthorshatter]

If you're up to date with my posts, then you know what's about to happen.

I've read the books, WE'VE ALL READ THE BOOKS, but this is a somewhat fun switch-a-roo.

Expect a BUNCH of changes that I'll try justifying, especially painful ones, so bear with me🙏

OTP SWAP PART 1: THE CRUEL PRINCE!!!!

I'm starting with the first book for obvious reasons

Like before, we start in the mortal world with Ashley Duarte(yes, human!Cardan's last name is Duarte, but like I said, bear with me) making tacos in the kitchen while one of the MANY dogs and other animals wait for her to drop some food. Baby boy Cardan and his older half-sister Rhyia are watching some human stuff, maybe Looney Tunes or old Mickey Mouse cartoons, when the door is knocked on, which alerts the animals and wakes a half asleep Cardan; Rhyia does not wake up.

Cardan answers it and finds a cloaked Madoc at the door. Rather than ask who he is or call for his mother, he stares at this man, who kneels and asks as evenly as possible if his mother is home.

Cardan slams the door in his face, which prompts Ashley to ask why he did so.

Madoc BANGS on the door and shouts, "Asha!" and Ashley pales as she realizes who is at the door.

She demands Cardan to go upstairs as Madoc kicks the door open and walks inside, giving the same speech as the original, that Balekin told him she'd ran away with his daughter, that she killed a woman who was just as pregnant as her, that she ran away and married some lowly farm hand and blacksmith. He thought it was a lie, but nope. Here she stands.

Asha(which is her real name) is deeply ashamed at his words, and tries to pull Cardan away; an angry Madoc is an unstable Madoc.

Like before, Justin rushes in to save his family, but ends up getting kebabbed with his wife.

Rhyia does wake up to see both and Madoc spills the tea that she's his and needs to pack her bags because they're leaving, and Cardan's coming with.

Cardan, despite being seven, is outraged and tries to kick Madoc into oblivion with no avail. Rhyia, however, swears that she'll never love a monster like Madoc, who simply scoffs and tells her to wrangle the human and gather her things in half an hour, because they're leaving for Faerie.

Reluctantly, they do and they never see the mortal world again for a very long time.

Jump to the present day as Cardan, a now seventeen year old human heart throb, is getting prim and proper for a revel. His hair is getting styled nice, he's in a nice suit, he's wearing a cool belt that makes him look like he has a tail, and has ear cuffs that make his ears look pointed like a faerie.

He also has rowan berries on his wrist, because he doesn't want the necklace to be easy to see as a lot of his shirts show his chest.

He's dolled up and meets Locke, his brother that came around when Madoc married Oriana and had Oak. The two did not get along, at first, but they began to tolerate each ither as they realized they were the only humans in Faerie that were gentry kids.

Locke is more of a bard or a poet, always seen with a little book, and doesn't wear the same stuff Cardan does, so no pointed ear cuffs for him. He's also more accustomed to Faerie, being good with half truths and minor deception. He's on good terms with both Madoc and Oriana.

Cardan, however, is not on good terms with either of them, as he has tried multiple times to leave Faerie, with and without Rhyia with him, and every time ended with Madoc outside scowling at him and leading him back to his room. Still has that 'no kill' rule, but he's better with sneaking and a sword, having been able to lighten his steps so he could sneak past Madoc and his guards whenever he tried to leave. He's not bad with a sword, but he still has a lot to learn, being 17 and all. When he doesn't have a sword in his hands, he has an animal in them, i.e. a foal, a dog, or, at one point, a skunk that was calm enough to not spray him. Yeah, animal lover that can hold his own.

The two exchange banter and Locke shows show rare excitement for this revel, saying the two will have the time of their lives. Locke, who isn't as close with her, wonders where Rhyia is, but Cardan reveals she's not attending, instead going to visit some friends in the mortal world.

Her funeral as the boys saddle up with Oriana amd Madic and go to the revel.

Similar events occur, like Oriana telling the boys to be careful, Madoc talking to Dain and Balekin, and Locke leading Cardan through the revel so they can have a good time.

IT GOES DOWNHILL WHEN THE GREENBRIAR TWINS AND THEIR FRIENDS ARRIVE. Jude, her older sister Taryn, and their friends, Edir, a bard that can sing and play anyone under the table, Valerian, who's a sadist, and Nicasia, the princess of the Undersea.

Jude and Taryn may have the same face and body, but don't be fooled, Jude has horns, always wears a sword, and will slap you in a dress and then set it on fire without a second’s hesitation. Taryn, however, always has a bunch of flowers in her hair, always wears a dress, and uses words as her weapon. Did you know that she broke on of the most boisterous men in Faerie qith nothing but her words? True story. Edir is the guy that keeps them both in check, an order of Balekin's, which we'll learn later. He is also more of Jude's friend and Taryn's bed buddy, in SFW terms. Nicasia is Jude's friend, like FRIEND, and Valerian is the same, really, just more of an ass now that he has more even targets.

Everyone bows to these guys, even Cardan and a smirking Locke. That smirk vanishes when Taryn winks at Cardan, who Jude GLARES AT.

Locke feels the same way, cinfused and angry, but no time to think in it because Valerian storms toward a confused Cardan and grabs him by the collar, snarling that he can play dress up and make believe all he wants because it won't hide his plain hair or round ears or barn dog smell, so he shouldn't even bother.

Valerian throws him back and Locke rounds on Cardan, asking him what the hell that was between him and Taryn. Cardan brushes him off, as it was just a wink, not a lap dance. Before they can REALLY go at it, crying draws their attention and see that Jude just pincushioned someone who didn't bow, said someone nkw having a hole in their stomach and a slash across their torso. Taryn is annoyed, Nicasia and Valerian are trying not to laugh, and Edir, who's embarassed, is scolding Jude for losing it at a revel.

Jump to after the revel and the day of school. The boys do indeed get dirt kicked on their food, but instead of 'make me,' Cardan snaps, 'TRY me,' because Nicasia asks if he's as filthy as other human boys. Locke talks him down, but Valerian, kicking more dirt and even throwing some IN Cardan's face, asks if the two qould like them for friends.

Locke apologizes for Cardan, but Jude commands he prove it by dropping out of the tournament, it'll be less embarrassing than getting his ass beaten in front of everyone.

Nicasia spots one of the ear cuffs and pulls it off, asking if he stole it. Big mistake because the cuff burns her hand, as it is iron and iron hurts Faeries.

Cardan smirks and the group leaves, Locke scolding him for being stupid.

Later, at dinnner, after talk of Dain's coronation, Cardan, despite some minor objection from Rhyia, asks Madoc a question: May he please have a green sash for the tournament? Why? He would like to be a knight, please and thank you. Madoc chikes on his wine, Locke coughs to hide a laugh, Rhyia winces, and Oriana os shicked into silence.

Madoc gives it to him straight: he's not bad with a sword, he's good on his feet,and he's the best damned rider that anyone's ever seen, but no. He cannot compete for knighthood, on the count of being the furthest thing from a killer imaginable and just being in over his head.

Cardan protests that he can do just fine, but Madoc warns him to stop before he gets himself thrown in a dungeon instead if his room until the coronation of prince Dain.

Cardan relinquishes and we get the salt prank like before, except Locke is pissed beyond all reason at his foster brother. Cardan doesn't mind until he's grabbed by Edir and Valerian, Locke being pulled by the hair by Jude and both are thrown in the river, which has Nixies in it.

Thier supplies get yeeted, Locke gets pulled out by Valerian and is made to kiss Jude on the lips and both her horns, but, when asked, Cardan does not give up, vowing that he will never give up, which makes Jude laugh and the group leave.

Locke and Cardan walk home, get some baths, and go to bed, except they go to the mortal world with Rhyia and meet her friends Vivienne and Heather at the mall. Vivienne apologizes for Jude's behavior, and we learn that Rhyia is planning to leave Faerie, and is probably going alone.

The boys return and endure a lesson, but Jude pushes Locke's buttons, so Cardan pushes her into a tree. Challenge accepted.

TOURNAMENT TIME!! Cardan fairs wellin that Valerian is lazy, Edir is out of shape, and Jude got cocky, so he wins.

Jude fumes at him, later grabbing him by the tail on his belt amd demanding he beg for her forgiveness. He does... NOT! And spits in her face that she may push him down, but he'll pull her down with him, and it will hurt her like hell.

Taryn approaches him and expresses interest in him, saying that she once took both Edir and Nicasia from Jude because people just like a sensitive girl.

She leaves and the tournament eventually ends, which leads Cardan to return hime and meet Dain, who requested one of Madoc's people to tell Cardan one of Eldred's children had come for a visit.

Dain and Cardan get talking and Dain offers him something that isn't knighthood: spying. Plus one wish.

Cardan knows what he wants: to not be controled.

Granted, but Dain can still control him and the fruits of Faerie will still effect him.

Screwy, but deal, he's a spy now

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!!!!!

#the cruel prince #the cruel prince trilogy #folk of the air #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #locke #taryn duarte #otp swap #jude x cardan #jurdan

[lu-undy]

(it is me, sad boi)

Prehaps Spy is coming home from work, it was absolutely horrid, people were mean to him, he got yeeted down the stairs. And he really wants to cry.

But good ol snipey steps in and lets him cry, but doesn't let him do anything bad to himself? 🥺

Here it is!

“Frenchie! You dishonored this entire unit!” Soldier exclaimed at his colleague as he entered the resupply room.

“Bloody hell, Spy, why didn’t you sap that sentry?” Demo opened a wide eye.

“Yeah, Spy, you useless, d’you - Argh?!”

A blade had flown to the wall an inch away from Scout’s eye, ending up planted on the wall of the resupply room.

The battles of the day had just ended in a loss and the mercenaries had regrouped in the respawn room. Spy ignored his colleagues and headed straight back to his quarters.

“Yeah, yeah, go back to your room and smoke your cigarettes till tomorrow!”

Sniper went to the blade and retrieved it from next to Scout’s head, taking the opportunity to tower the young man.

“What? What are you lookin’ at?” The Bostonian answered, looking up at his taller colleague.

The Aussie growled and took the blade in his pocket before turning away from Scout.

“Yeah, go back to your useless boyfriend! He didn’t do anythin’ right today and we lost cause of him - ARGH?!”

The kukri landed on the wall, where Spy’s blade was, and the door opened and closed again as the sound of Sniper’s heeled boots faded away.

There was a knock at the door with the knife symbol.

“Go to hell!”

“Spook.”

There was a second of silence.

“Spook, can I?”

Sniper didn’t hear Spy sigh and melt further down on his sofa, in front of the fireplace. He took the doorknob in his hand and slightly twisted it. He gently pushed the door and entered. 

“Spook? You left your door unlocked?” 

It was unusual enough to be mentioned. As Sniper entered, he locked it, for his and Spy’s peace of mind and came next to his lover. He removed his hat and aviators that he put on the coffee table and took a seat next to his lover. 

"Hey…" 

No answer from Spy and Sniper noticed the bottle of wine in his hand, the disheveled looks, the tie, half-undone and the lock of hair sticking out of his mask. 

"Luv'?" 

Spy took a deep breath and sighed. 

"Go away." 

"What? Spook-"

"Go. Away." 

Sniper sighed. 

"I'm not gonna let you get piss drunk on yer own." He took the bottle off of Spy's hand and took a generous gulp of it. "Oh, mate, that's a shite one." 

"It serves its purpose." 

"What?" 

"It makes the pain physical, that way it is much easier to heal." 

Spy was still not looking his lover in the eye and stared angrily at the dancing flames of the fireplace in front of him. He didn't feel their warmth.

"Here." Sniper passed him the bottle and it lasted for half an hour, maybe more. The bottle went from gloved hand to naked one, back and forth, until Sniper put it on the coffee table. There was still some wine left inside. 

"Spook?" 

"What?" 

"Don't listen to them. We lost as a team." 

Spy scoffed. 

"They are right. My inability to sap that sentry cost us the victory today. But what infuriates me is not that I did not succeed."

"What is it?" 

"The humiliation both from the enemy and my own team."

"What d'you mean?" 

"I have received more of the infamous jarate and mad milk today than in the past months combined." 

"Why?" 

"At first I thought it was a coincidence. But non. It turned out that the enemy Scout and Sniper had a bet going on, about who would cover me the most often in their atrocious fluids."

"Twisted bastards." 

"You use your jarate too." Spy said. 

"Yeah, but I don't just use it for humiliation. I get the job done with it, and move on."

"Hm. Oui. Maybe. In any case, I was sent in a spiral of endless respawns. Each time I got within a few metres of the sentry, they would find me out by throwing their glass jars or bottles at me, before their Pyro would burn me to death. I can still smell their filth on me." 

"Then let's go and take a shower." Sniper suggested.

"Non." 

"Right, you know what? Keep bein' grumpy, I'll make you take a shower." 

"What?!"

"C'mere." Sniper pulled his colleague out of the sofa and dragged him to his private bathroom. He turned the shower on and closed the door. 

"Sniper, this is ridiculous."

"You're bein' ridiculous too. Now, shush and let me do the right thing for you." Sniper undressed his lover and pulled the shower curtain open. "Come on, chop, chop." 

"Non."

"Spy, you're standin' here, naked and you'll catch a cold. Get in there, oh?" 

Spy bent forward until his head bumped Sniper's chest. He raised his hands and clung on to him. 

"I have been such a failure today." 

"No, what're you talkin' about? You weren't alone eh? Demo or Soldier could have taken the sentry out if Medic had popped on them. God knows what the nurse was up to. I was bullied relentless by the bastard in a suit."

"Am I… a bastard in a suit?"

"No. Not you. You're… You're everythin'." He laced his arms around the slim frame of the naked, sad Frenchie. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Don't let go of me." He asked, clinging to his work shirt, and the Aussie smiled, albeit sadly. 

"It's alright… I've got you…" 

"M-Mundy… I am tired… I am so, so tired…" He pushed his head deeper in his lover's chest. 

"I know, love, I know. But I'm here, eh? It's just one of those days."

"Stay with me, please, don't leave me." 

"I won't, I won't." Mundy slipped his hand in his lover's greasy hair and brushed the salt and pepper locks back. He bent his head down to drop his lips on his lover's forehead and Spy closed his eyes, arching his eyebrows up, pleadingly. "Look at you, you fragile thing… Get in the shower and wash yerself, you'll see, you'll feel better afterwards." 

"Non…" 

"C'mon, listen to me, now."

Spy opened his eyes and looked up at Sniper. 

"Come with me." 

"In the shower?" 

Spy nodded.

"I don't want to let go of you. Everything feels so… empty, without you." 

Mundy smiled. 

"Right, let me get out of my clothes."

"May I help?" 

"O'course." 

With four hands on his clothes, Mundy got out of his clothes very fast. As soon as he finished, Spy, or Lucien in the intimacy, latched onto him. 

"Hey, now… Are you alright?" 

The Frenchman nodded, his head still against his chest. Mundy pulled him under the shower head and closed the shower curtain. 

"Here we go. Now, which one's your fancy shampoo again…?" He asked, looking at the bottles. 

Lucien just enjoyed the hot water trickling down his head and his lover's body. He felt Mundy's fingers work in his hair and soon, the foam came to his ears, deafening him. He closed his eyes and waited for a while. Mundy was washing his own hair and then, he pulled his lover under the water again and rinsed it all away from him. Next came the shower gel. 

"Love, I gotta unstick you, hold on."

"Non…!" Lucien held his lover harder, digging his fingers behind his back. Mundy chuckled. He loved Lucien as much as he did Spy. The only difference was that Spy would hide Lucien's sensitivity and softness under a thick mask of arrogance and cold-bloodedness. But Mundy knew it, the Frenchman would show his vulnerable side only to him, and he loved that.

"Please, sweet thing, I promise I won't be long."

"Make it quick." 

Mundy spread the shower gel on his lover and Lucien mirrored him on his tall lover. In the end, Mundy took a bit of foam on the tip of his index finger and tapped the tip of Lucien's nose with it. The Frenchman pulled his nose back and his eyes crossed on the foam hanging there, making Mundy laugh. 

"You look like a clueless kitten." 

Lucien grimaced and Mundy pulled his chin with one hand before kissing his lips. When he withdrew, Lucien pushed himself to the tip of his toes for more. 

The shower and the entire bathroom were in a thick fog of steam. 

"Right, let's get out now, yeah?" 

"Non." 

Mundy stopped the water running. 

"You gonna say 'non' to everythin' I say?" 

"Oui."

"At least, that one is a 'oui'." 

They stepped out of the shower and dried themselves off before heading to Spy's bedroom. 

"Here, that's your fancy pyjamas…" Mundy threw a shirt and a pair of trousers to his lover. "And that's my boxer shorts." He slipped them on.

Lucien joined him in bed and curled in his arms. The Aussie wrapped his arms around him and let his fingers lazily brush the Frenchman's silky, wet hair. 

"You feel better?" 

"Oui. Merci." 

"There we go, then. Forget about everythin', I'm here with you." Mundy adjusted the blanket around them both. 

"I… I felt terrible about myself."

"I know." 

"But somehow you manage to pull me out of these fits of… of powerful distress." 

"You're bein' dramatic."

"I am being in love." Lucien shut his eyes.

"Pfff, c'mere…" Mundy chuckled and left a kiss on his lover's brow before rolling to his back, Lucien lying on top of him. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yes, Lu'?" 

Lucien raised his head and looked down at his lover with a smile. 

"Thank you." 

"No worries."

"Non, really, I am in your debt." 

"You're bein' dramatic again, luv'." Mundy tapped the tip of his lover's nose with a grin. 

"I cannot help it."

"I know, I love you for that, and the rest." 

Lucien bent to push his lips on Mundy's and they melted in a nap, the Aussie's arms around his lover, while Lucien nuzzled in the hollow of his neck.

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter ten: the kind of love we gather

word count: 7.5k

rating: m for mature

warnings: there is an interaction with an abusive ex-husband that eludes to physical/domestic violence. also, i think it's fair to warn against joseph himself--whatever argument there is to be had about the sincerity of his feelings, there's a few times where it feels like there's definitely some emotional manipulation happening.

notes: this is an interlude chapter, a little flashback/prelude going through isolde and joseph's relationship--or, at least, a significant part of it (still some secrets to be discovered!). i've had this chapter drawn up for a while and i thought this would be a great cliffhanger/changing point in the story to give their relationship and their dynamic a little more context, so i hope that's alright with y'all!

some of you folks who follow me here on tumblr may recognize a part of this chapter as a smut oneshot i wrote for them; that was the alternate universe to this instance in time, which is firmly rooted in their canon. lmao

it should go without saying that i have yeeted canon out the window for all of ancient names and witching hour, and the way that the seed brothers were pre-reaping and hope county is subject to much the same.

—Before—

The first time that Isolde saw Joseph, she knew she was in for it.

If he had been any other man, she thought, it wouldn’t have been so clearly a disaster waiting to happen. She would have been able to crash and burn with him as she pleased: but he wasn’t just any other man. He was John’s man, his older brother, the one that he tried so hard to live up to and impress. She had only heard of him in passing, but that was all it had taken. Isolde knew exactly how John felt about him.

“Who is that?” she asked, when she spotted the cleanly dressed man across the room. The office was dimly lit with the lights lowered; people mingled and chatted, drinks in hand, as everyone celebrated that they’d been able to move into a nice, new office downtown, with a whole floor to themselves.

John’s gaze followed hers. His expression flattened. “Stop it.”

No fun. Isolde feigned innocence. “Stop what?”

“That’s my brother Joseph, Sol,” he hissed. “Do not try to fuck my brother.”

“You have a couple, don’t you?” she asked. “What’s the one?”

“Fuck off.”

She sighed, taking a sip of her drink. Just her luck. A Seed boy, and yet, so fine. What a waste. “Fine, Johnny,” she said, patting his shoulder. Across the room, she saw Joseph’s gaze land on hers as he politely smiled at one of the other partygoers, and then stay locked, right on her. “I won’t fuck your very hot brother, who is very plainly making eyes at me from across the room.”

“He’s never had great taste in women.” John grimaced. “Off-limits, Isolde, I mean it.”

“Scout’s honor.”

So much for that, anyway, she thought later, when Joseph crossed the party and made his way up to her. He was even more handsome up close, and though long hair wasn’t typically her type, it looked good on him, pulled back and slick. Just enough to look polished.

“You’re Isolde?” Joseph asked, and his eyes swept over her. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Are you the authority on Isoldes?” she replied. She arched a brow loftily at him. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of an expert.”

“Well, it’s just that John rarely complains about beautiful women,” he countered easily, the flirtation slipping so seamlessly from his mouth that she might have missed it. “They’re his greatest vice. Yet, he complains incessantly about you.” He paused. “I’m Joseph, his brother.”

That did sound like John. Isolde wrangled a smile, leaned comfortably back against the wall as Joseph sidled over to her. With him in front of her, he almost completely eclipsed out the rest of the party, like he’d suddenly bubbled her and it was just the two of them in the entire room. He was so very good at that—with his eyes on her, it felt as though nobody else in the entire world existed.

“I’m flattered,” she murmured, “that I’ve managed to break John of his greatest vice.”

“I did come to thank you for that.” Joseph’s mouth ticked up into a smile, almost playful, if the rich timbre of his voice wasn’t so soothing. “And for taking good care of John. He’s a...”

Isolde watched Joseph through her lashes. He had no alcohol in his hands, but kept them tucked easily into the pockets of his slacks; he held himself without the easy arrogance that John carried himself. It was more like Joseph knew, exactly, his place in the world, and so didn’t feel the need to assert it. It simply was.

“Handful,” Isolde supplied.

“That’s a good way to put that,” he agreed. A quiet moment stretched between them—an easy silence, and she got the impression that it was going to be like this with him; no pressure to fill the silences—before she shifted on her feet.

“So, how are you going to do it?” she asked him, taking a sip of her drink. Joseph’s gaze, which had drifted to where John was chatting with Jacob and another guest, flickered back to her. The inquisitive tilt of his head followed after, and when she didn’t supply further questioning, he didn’t bother smothering the amused little smile on his face.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Thank me.”

The smile didn’t quite leave his face yet. “Didn’t John give you the same speech about how off-limits we are to each other?”

“Well,” Isolde relented, “whatever is he going to complain about if his brother doesn’t take me out for dinner? I’d be failing him as his vice breaker if I didn’t keep my game fresh.”

“Is that what I’m doing to thank you, then?”

Joseph’s voice was a low, rich sound, rumbling straight through her, vibrating in the cavity of her chest. She thought, instantly, that she’d like to know what it felt like to have him say her name into her skin. Isolde’s lashes fluttered; she hummed thoughtfully and polished off the last of her wine.

Dinner isn’t sex, she reasoned. So technically, I’m not really breaking John’s little agreement.

“It’s an option,” she offered after a moment. And then, in an act of what John would surely describe later as pure spite for his well-being and mental health: “Though you’re welcome to do more, if you feel inclined.”

This finally (finally, a part of her said) elicited a laugh out of Joseph. His eyes slipped from hers, lingering on her mouth before pulling away to the rest of the party, almost reluctantly.

“Tomorrow,” he said after a moment. “Are you free?”

“Technically I’m working,” Isolde drawled, “but lucky for you, I’m the boss and I can make my own hours.”

“Lucky, indeed,” Joseph replied amusedly. “Six, then.”

“And don’t tell John,” Isolde said, as though making a pact. The man inclined his head a little, reaching up and sweeping a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made a low noise of agreement.

“And don’t tell John,” he reiterated. “Yet.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I asked you for one thing, Isolde!”

John was, as to be expected, upset.

“That’s not true,” Isolde defended, busying her hands with gathering up a few files and tucking them into her bag. “You ask me for a million things, every day. Namely, tolerating your ego. Not to mention keeping your head from exploding every time someone pays you a compliment, and—”

“You know what I mean.” John exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his temples as though Isolde had inspired in him the greatest of headaches. She hoped that she had. It would be the least he could suffer, after all of the brainpower she had to expend on the daily to keep him in check.

Leaning back in her chair, Isolde said, “It was just dinner, John.”

“Do not pretend to be stupid all of a sudden,” John snapped. “Joseph does not date around. He doesn’t ever do something that’s just dinner."

"Funny," she mused, "it feels like that's exactly what it was. Eating food together, at a restaurant, during the evening."

John’s head cocked to the side. He leveled her with a singular pointed look and said, “Oh, yeah?”

She squinted at him. “Yeah.”

“Is that so? Then what did you do after dinner, Isolde?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall as he waited for her answer. She kept her face wiped clear of emotions even though John’s question instantly inspired in her a flurry of memories; Joseph, snagging her hand on their way out of the restaurant, leaning in and kissing her; and kissing her, and kissing her, keeping her pulled close against him until she thought she was going to go dizzy from it all.

And then, well—

“We’re two consenting adults, John,” she said at last, and he threw up his hands.

“I explicitly said not to!”

“Yeah, well!” There was no good excuse; she knew that. The excuse was that Joseph was incredibly attractive, and Isolde had wanted him, and so that had been the beginning and the end of it. Still, she kept her eyes on the paper in front of her. “I made that agreement before I got a good look at him. John, I’m actually trying to get some work done, so if you could—”

John scoffed. “One, Joseph is related to me, so of course he’s hot, and two—you’ve got the impulse control of a toddler. I hope you know that.”

He pushed off from the wall and started collecting his things to leave her office; a blissful departure, to be sure, but there was something sitting and stinging in the pit of her stomach that wouldn’t let her leave it to rest.

“Rich,” Isolde said demurely, “coming from the man who can’t stop an endless chain of making-up-breaking-up.”

His movements paused. He stared at her for a long moment, before he said. “Hey, Isolde?”

“Yes, John?”

“Fuck you.” John’s movements resumed to the door. “Fuck you, and see you in the conference room in twenty.” Another pause, and then thrown over his shoulder: “If you’re not too busy letting my brother—”

“Alright, point made!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “It’s really not anything serious. Okay? It was just dinner and a date, that’s all.”

This had him stopping again, paused in the doorway with a bit of frustration welling up in his voice when he said, “You don’t know my brother, Isolde.”

“But I know me. Alright?”

He sighed. “Yes, alright. Twenty minutes, then.”

For a moment, it felt like things had been settled between them. John was still young, she thought; younger than her, and the baby of his brothers, which she knew meant he held on tighter to things that maybe he needed to all the time. Too tight, or too loose, to make it hurt less when something didn’t work out.

But the peace only lasted for a moment, because a few minutes after John had settled back in behind his desk across the hall from her, their secretary came around the corner, her arms filled with a fragrant bouquet of lilies.

“Ms. Khan, you have an admirer!” she exclaimed delightedly. Isolde met John’s eyes across the hall, staring at her with an expression that could only have been described with the phrase I told you so. “It looks like they’re from a gentleman named Joseph S—”

“Thank you, Laura,” Isolde interrupted, clearing her throat. “You can set them on the table there, I’ll find them a vase.”

Laura nodded and smiled, laying the bouquet delicately on the coffee table and then making her way out of the office. Isolde left the flowers untouched for about an hour, unable to stand the thought of John catching her keeping them alive (because she would never hear an end to it), but it was killing her a little bit. She had mentioned once, in an off-hand comment, that she didn’t like the typical flower bouquets like red roses or carnations; lilies were her favorite. One tiny comment, and this was the result?

There was only a note with the flowers. It said, Hoping John isn’t giving you too much trouble. Be by at six for you.

It felt a little treacherous; just enough to make it a bit harder to look at John with a serious face and not burst out laughing at the absurdity of their situation. Thankfully, close to the end of the day John made the dramatic announcement that he thought he was going to kill himself if he had to spend even another second sitting across from the elaborate bouquet.

“I’m going to go home,” he said, shrugging into his coat, “and try to retain at least half of my brain cells.”

Isolde hmm’d. “So just the one, then?

“Ha-ha. Goodnight, Sol.”

“Have a good night.”

It seemed like there were only a few moments of quiet between John’s departure and Joseph’s arrival, though in reality it had been a few hours; focusing felt like a chore, like it took a little extra work to get through the depositions she had to prepare and the emails she had to answer.

Just dinner, she thought. Just dinner and a date, and whatever happened after. And just one more date tonight. Not a big deal; adults go on dates all the time. I’m an adult. It’s fine.

But it wasn’t just that, because she was sure her heart rate had plateaued at a solid one hundred and ten since Joseph’s I’ll pick you up from work text. Because Isolde wasn’t the kind of woman who took a man back to her place on the first date, and yet.

By the time Joseph did swing by to pick her up, John had been gone for a few hours and she’d gotten almost no work done, instead completely consumed by the predicament she’d planted herself in. It did break the rules to date Joseph. No business and pleasure, first and foremost. Normally, Isolde would have considered herself a woman of incredible discipline, able to turn down temptations of varying degrees—but when Joseph rolled through her office door with those stupid, hot yellow aviators on his face, she thought maybe she had overestimated herself.

“You look tired,” Joseph said lightly, brushing some snow out of his hair. Isolde’s expression flattened.

“Thanks, Romeo. ‘Hi, Isolde, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, just fine, except for your brother throwing a baby temper tantrum every five minutes’. ‘You poor thing, Isolde, but you have to tell me how you manage to be so exceptionally beautiful still’.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t look beautiful still,” he replied. His eyes followed her as she walked around her desk, having slid her coat on and collected her purse; they stayed trained on her all the way up to when there was no space left between them, until he was gazing at her with amusement dragging his mouth into a smile.

She said, lightly, “You didn’t say I was beautiful at all, actually.”

Joseph reached up. Though the room was empty of everyone except the two of them, somehow it still felt special when he looked at her—it still felt like nothing else in the entire world mattered to Joseph in that moment except for her. The pad of his thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze drinking her in, admiring and hungry in equal amounts.

“You are,” he said, his voice low, the timbre of it rattling something animal inside of her. “Beautiful.”

Kiss me, she wanted to say, because he was so close and yet seemed to refuse to actually finish the job. She didn’t think she could have mustered the words even if she wanted to; Joseph was a wildfire, eating up all the oxygen around her, sucking it right out of the air until there was nothing left but for her to feel swallowed by it.

“I wasn’t entirely truthful with you, the other night,” Joseph continued, dragging his thumb from her lip down to her jawline, “when I said that John’s greatest vice was beautiful women.” He paused, his head tilting. “They’re mine.”

Isolde’s lashes fluttered. She glanced up at him, and she said, “Well, that’s not the greatest sales pitch for yourself. How many red flags should I be looking for?”

He laughed and brushed his lips against her temple. “I get the feeling you won’t miss a single one.”

It shouldn’t have been quite so endearing, his casual reference to any red flags that he might have. Even his confidence that she’d pick them out (she would; if finding red flags was an Olympic sport, Isolde would have been a gold medalist) didn’t inspire the greatest feeling in her, though if she was playing devil’s advocate she knew that there were things about herself that didn’t make her so very well acquainted with healthy relationships.

“I’m glad I was able to come and pick you up today,” Joseph continued casually as they left her office and headed down the stairs. “It’s been snowing all afternoon. I’d hate for you to have to drive in this weather.”

And then he did things like that—uncharacteristically gentlemanly of him, to not want her to drive herself home in adverse weather. “I think I would have been fine,” Isolde replied. His fingers brushed hers at her side, snagging them and bringing them up to his mouth to kiss.

“Undoubtedly.”

It hadn’t been a lie, his remark about the snow. By the time they were pushing the doors to the lobby open, bidding the security officer goodnight, at least a solid foot of snow had collected and was pushed up against the lip of the sidewalk.

She grimaced. Winter was her least favorite season. Holiday cheer and Isolde Khan were not two concepts that melded well—not that she was a scrooge, per se, but with her only family halfway across the world and, on top, a tenuous relationship at best, it didn’t make Christmas very fun.

As they walked down the sidewalk, passing Joseph’s car in favor of pursuing a nearby restaurant, the blonde kept their fingers tangled together. The gesture was light, and didn’t demand anything, but it was enough to say something: I want you close to me.

“Does your family come here for the holidays?” Joseph asked lightly, disentangling their hands in favor of giving her hip a squeeze, keeping his hand there as they drifted into a warmly-lit wine bar. “I remember you saying they live in Turkey.”

So Joseph did just have that good of a memory. She’d have to be more careful about the things she said to him. “No,” Isolde replied, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere. “It’s too far. And I don’t go there.”

“Then what do you do on Christmas?” he prompted. He tugged a seat out for her at a spot farthest away from the door and then planted himself across from her, absently reading over the list of wines.

“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely. And then, in an effort to redirect, again: “You, if you’re around.”

Joseph’s gaze flickered up to hers from across the table. She could tell he was trying to stifle a smile. “You’d have to come all the way to Hope County if you had that penciled into your planner, Miss Khan.”

“Oh, Miss Khan, am I? We’re suddenly very formal with each other.” Isolde grinned. “And what does Joseph Seed, in Hope County, do on Christmas?”

“We haven’t spent many holidays together, but this year I’d like have a big family dinner on Christmas Eve, the handful of us.” He settled back in his chair a little, like he was getting ready to be there for a while. “Since John’s moved out here for work, Jacob’s been out of the country, and we only recently found each other again, we don’t get a lot of time together.” He shrugged. “And you, of course. If you’re around.”

Before she had an opportunity to respond, caught off guard by how easily he wielded her own flirtation against her, she felt a few bodies brush past their table and then pause, only to be followed by a dreadfully familiar voice: “Isolde?”

Something sharp and hot brought her pulse to a grinding stop—or it felt like it, anyway, like all of the breath had been sucked right out of her and she had ceased to be alive anymore, a cadaver sat up to play pretend like in those old photos. No, she thought when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, nausea welling up inside of her. No, I don’t want this, not right now.

“It is you,” Alec said, his voice blooming with warmth. “I thought I recognized you. I know you like this spot.” His hand slid from her shoulder and she felt, without even looking at him, the way he turned his eyes to Joseph. “Who’s your friend?”

“Date,” Isolde bit out. “He’s my date.”

Her ex-husband let out what she could only describe as a comical exhale of breath. Joseph was watching her, inquisitive but ever-so-composed, before he turned his gaze politely to Alec and offered his hand.

“Joseph,” the blonde said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The sight of the two men shaking hands made her want to puke. Everything Alec touched in her life was rotten, putrid—brimming with bile and spoiled, forever. She didn’t want it to be like that with Joseph, too.

Alec began, “I’m—”

“Alec is my ex-husband,” Isolde interrupted, her voice hard, punctuating each consonant of the words that came out of her mouth with violent intent.

Joseph settled back in his seat. Suddenly, Isolde was reminded that he had a penchant for remembering even the smallest throwaway details, and that she’d probably let him in on more than she would have liked about how her relationship had been with Alec without even saying anything. Yes, Isolde thought absently, her brain careening like a plane on fire as she watched Joseph fix his eyes on Alec, yes, he can tell.

“Fresh on the dating scene, and only six months divorced,” Alec remarked lightly, his infuriatingly handsome face the only thing filling up her peripheral. “I’m happy for you, Isolde.”

“So leave,” Isolde snapped. She finally looked at him, really looked at him, and naturally he looked perfect; dark curls, stubble neatly trimmed, eyes bright and amused. There were a few thin, gossamer scars on his face from the last time they were together— but he must have paid quite a bit of money to smooth those out.

He lifted his hands in a show of surrender, his gaze sweeping over her. Just that one gesture felt like a violation—she wanted to smash his face into the table and tell him he didn’t get to even look at her anymore.

“Good luck with this one, Joe,” Alec said, his overly-familiar use of a nickname that Isolde had never heard anyone use with Joseph sticking to her ribs like a heavy dinner. “She’s a wicked little thing.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Joseph replied serenely.

Alec paused; his gaze lingered on her neck and suddenly he was grinning. Isolde knew what it was he was looking at—a bruise, a remnant of the night before, left by Joseph.

“Yeah,” Alec agreed, “it looks like you’ve already figured out how to handle her.”

Who’s going to pity you? If you were me, you would have seen that you were begging for it. You fucking asked for it. 

Isolde stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the wooden paneling of the floor. Sick, she thought, her stomach rolling. I’m going to be sick. “Leaving,” she managed out, only vaguely aware of Joseph also coming to a stand across from her, albeit more composed. “We’re leaving.”

I’m your husband, Isolde. It means it’s my job to keep you in line.

“Not on my account, I hope,” Alec sighed. “You’ve always been so dramatic. Anyway, Joseph—a pleasure to meet you, and—you know, call me if you need help with her. I’m always happy to lend my expertise.”

Everyone knows what it takes to get you under control, and I’ll tell anyone who asks.

She pushed past him, stepping around the table and clutching her coat and purse in her hands. There wasn’t time to put them on; there would never be enough time to get as much space between herself and Alec as she wanted.

I should have killed him, she thought viciously, taking in lungfuls of frigid air, snow dappling her face and sticking to her eyelashes. Right then, I should have bashed his fucking skull in.

Fingers brushed her arm. On instinct she startled, whirling to face the impending threat, half-expecting Alec to have chased her out into the street in an attempt to corner her—a thing that he had taken great joy in before, sweeping things off of the counter to grab and pull and rip—but it was Joseph. He waited two heartbeats before he reached again, his fingertips cradling the crook of her elbow.

It was a question: can I? Will you let me?

“I wish he would die,” she said, without thinking, the words spilling out of her like a poison she just couldn’t hold in anymore. Whatever information Joseph had gleaned about her tumultuous marriage with Alec made him unbothered by this statement; he tugged her closer to him, the hand not holding her arm reaching up to brush the pads of his fingers across her pulse point.

He said, “I know.”

“Joseph—”

“Isolde.” His voice was low, the words murmured against her forehead. “Don’t explain.” Because I already know, is what he meant. Because I already understand what’s going on here.

He tugged her coat out of her hands and pulled it around her shoulders. Bent like he was, leaned into her with something that she thought might be adoration, Joseph brushed their noses together. She felt tension flood her body; she was afraid that he might try to kiss her right then, of what she might do if he did while her body was brutalized by adrenaline, but he didn’t. 

He just held her.

“Here,” Joseph said, taking her hand and bringing it to his neck until she could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of his pulse under her fingers. “I’ve got you.”

It should have frightened her. Joseph’s intensity was an intimidating kind, but in these moments, the intensity was required to cut through the panic. It overwhelmed her fried senses, the neurons firing rapidly stifled and swallowed up by the looming responsibility to recognize his closeness. The smell of his cologne, the bump of their noses, the feeling of his stubble under her fingertips, his hands closing the jacket around her shoulders. All of it meant that her brain could no longer panic, and had, instead, something to occupy itself with.

“Can you take me home?” Her voice felt small coming out of her, like it belonged to someone else. A different Isolde, at a different place and time. The girl she might have been or perhaps was before Alec.

Low, Joseph murmured, “Of course. Whatever you need.”

A sick, macabre part of her wanted to look back behind Joseph at the wine bar. It wanted to see Alec again—the way that you couldn’t stop yourself from peeking through your hands at the monster in a horror movie, the way that you couldn’t look away from a brutal car crash on the highway. Sick, she thought dizzily. He made me sick.

“Take me home,” she said, more firmly this time.

“I’m trying,” Joseph replied. His voice was so soft that she almost had to strain to hear it over the pounding of her heart. His hands came to her face, cradling. “You have to let me.”

Isolde nodded, swallowing back what adrenaline insisted on leaking into her brain. She hadn’t realized that she was bolting her feet to the floor, gritting her teeth against the gentle pressure of Joseph’s hands, until he said, you have to let me. 

“Okay,” she murmured. He nodded and brushed the hair from her face. This time, his guiding pressure actually registered in her brain; when he nudged her away from the bar and down the street to his car, she moved, instead of digging her heels in.

When they reached the vehicle, he opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to climb in before he leaned down.

“I’m—” Isolde started, the words shredding in her mouth before they got out of her. I’m sorry, she wanted to say. “About—the bar, I—”

“I told you, don’t explain yourself,” Joseph insisted, tucking her hair behind her ear. There was something almost earnest about his gaze now as he watched her, her heart thrumming violently in her chest with a different mantra now. Same, it said, when Joseph’s fingers grazed her cheek, tilted her chin up. Same as us. Ours, too. He’s our kind.

“There’s plenty of people I wish were dead, too.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Shoes, clothes, charger, phone. No phone?

“Where did he put my phone?” Isolde muttered, searching through the suitcase on the bed. An array of clothing was laid out, but not yet folded; in fact, the only things that were packed yet were all work things that she’d have to take with her. Joseph would probably be furious—he had, in fact, specifically insisted that no work come on the vacation—but better than anyone he knew what it was like to rely on John for things. Which was that, if you liked things done to the standard that Joseph and Isolde wanted them done to, you didn’t rely on anyone else. Least of all John.

“Soli…” It was Joseph’s voice coming from the bottom of the stairs, not questioning but asking. Beckoning. You’re taking too long. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

“Where’s my phone?” she called back, pacing around the other side of the bedroom. “I’m trying to pack it up for tomorrow so that I don’t have to worry about it.”

A beat, where Joseph was likely collecting his patience, passed. “It’s down here. You left it on the counter.” And then: “Come eat, won’t you?”

He was doing that thing where he phrased it as a question and meant it as a statement. Joseph had learned, in a very short period of time, that she didn’t like when someone told her what to do; as petulant as it was, she’d buck against something like that desperately until it felt like her idea all along.

Isolde sighed. “Yes, I’m coming, Joseph.” One more up-and-down the stairs, ten more minutes of packing, and then she’d be content enough to sit down and eat.

“Full first name?” came the leisurely reply from downstairs. “My, you are in a mood tonight.”

Isolde busied herself with folding clothes, a smile fighting its way onto her face in spite of Joseph’s insistence that she was “in a mood”. She wasn’t; if he wanted to believe that, he was certainly welcome to, but she wasn’t in a mood. She was thinking.

So she put folded clothes over the work files and said, “Joseph, light of my life; the sun which my planet orbits; the fabric by which the stars are made…”

“This sounds more like the Isolde I’m used to.” His voice was closer now, coming from the doorway, and when she looked over her shoulder at him he said, “And definitely not coming to eat.”

“Do you go by Joe?” she asked lightly, dropping the last of her clothes in the suitcase.

Joseph wandered across the master bedroom until there wasn’t any space left between them; his hand came up to her face, trailing the slope of her cheekbone. “I certainly do not.”

“So, definitely call you that, then.”

“You are testing my greatest virtue,” Joseph replied, leaning down and kissing her. Just the once, though; long enough for her to want to lean into it, and not long enough to be satisfying. He pulled back just so far as to let their lips brush when he said, “Come sit down.”

Skimming her fingers along his chest, she asked playfully, “What are you going to do if I say no?”

The blonde eyed her amusedly. “John was right. You really don’t like being bossed around, do you?”

“How dare you say those words, in that order, in my presence,” Isolde murmured without heat. “You know I can’t stand to have someone stroking his ego by admitting he’s right about something.” A low laugh slipped out of Joseph and he carded his fingers through her hair, letting the pads of his fingers skim the back of her scalp as he kissed her temple.

She loved it. She loved when he did this; Joseph was so tactile, taking every opportunity to connect them through touch, like she grounded him. Like she was something precious that he wanted to enjoy every chance he got.

“You are the only one I’ll say something to more than once,” he said, his voice pleasantly low. “But luckily for you, I find your obstinance endearing.”

“If it helps,” she countered, “I don’t mind if you boss me around. Mostly. Why don’t you give it another try?” That wasn’t true. She did. But she liked the way it made Joseph’s ego inflate the second he did, even if it was for something stupid.

“Sweet girl.” His voice was a pleasant purr against her skin. “Always threatening me with a good time.”

This made her laugh. Joseph kissed the slope of her cheekbone, and then the corner of her mouth, his fingers sliding through her hair affectionately. She finally relented and allowed him to nudge her out through the bedroom door, making her way down the stairs. It wasn’t her first time going on a vacation with a… Friend of the romantic persuasion, but it was her first time going on vacation with a friend of the romantic persuasion back home. She’d never introduced her parents to any man that she’d dated—not only because they were eleven hours away by flight, but because there just hadn’t ever been anyone.

Joseph was—different. But she had always known that; she had always known that he was an exception to a lot of people’s rules, not just her own, and she was violating cardinal rule number one of her own personal regiment, which was “don’t mix business and pleasure”. Pursuing a romantic relationship with your business partner’s older brother didn’t exactly adhere to that, did it?

“It’s going to be hot,” Isolde said, “and the flight is long, and the traffic is going to be… Well, insane. But my parents will definitely insist on feeding us the second we get there—”

“That’s fine.”

“—so what I’m saying is, if I blink at you five times in rapid succession, we need to make up an emergency to leave. What’s the emergency? We have to have one ready and on hand, otherwise my dad will see straight…”

Her voice trailed off. The kitchen was not as she’d left it, a little over an hour ago, to pack. In fact, it was dimly lit by candles, the dining table sporting a bouquet—not roses, like someone might have expected out of a scene like this, but calla lilies. Her favorite.

“What—” She stopped in the doorway, but Joseph sidled up behind her, hands on her hips and nudging her forward. “Joseph, what…?”

“I told you.” He kissed just below her ear, reaching for her left hand and bringing it up to kiss her knuckles there, too. “You’re the only person that I’ll say something to more than once—”

Isolde felt something—something both hot and cold, sharp and too soft—whip through her immediately at the leading tone. “You’re not making any sense,” she managed out, trying to dig her heels in, but Joseph wasn’t trying to push her in any further so it didn’t matter.

“I want you to marry me.” Joseph said against her skin, and he slid something cool and metal along her finger. “I want you to be my wife, Soli.”

A ring, her brain said, the alarm bells ringing immediately. That’s a ring. Holy shit, that’s a really big fucking ring. On your finger. Holy shit.

“Isolde.” Joseph turned her around to look at him fully now, brows furrowing at what was surely a look of panic on her face. What she thought had to be the assumption that they were only nerves, he continued, “I know that—”

“No.” The word came out of her mouth before she could stop it, the single-word-statement fleeing her mouth in her panic. She thought she’d feel regret about it, but she didn’t; only about the way Joseph looked at her when she said it.

He seemed to be gathering himself for a moment, like maybe he didn’t think that she meant it, that she was playing some kind of joke on him.

Joseph began, “If this is your idea of—”

“I mean it,” Isolde interjected. “I won’t marry you, Joseph. So—no. Take this—” She fumbled the engagement ring off of her finger and put it into his hand like it was a cursed item, like she couldn’t get it off of her finger any fucking quicker. “Take this back. And—that’s it, I just don’t want it.”

His eyes were fixed on her, no longer soft in their romanticism, but hard, steely. “And why not?”

She swallowed up a sound that probably would have been close to agony. It was agony, having to explain to him; her mind vibrating at an entirely different frequency than his, the panic settling into her bones. She needed to say, I’ve been married before you and I know what it’s like to give yourself over to someone, she needed to say, I won’t fucking let someone own me, Joseph Seed, she needed to say, I told you two months ago I never wanted to get married again, and you just apparently didn’t listen, which is reason enough.

“I don’t need to justify myself to you,” is what she said instead, going to step around him. But his hand caught her wrist, the carefully manicured and polished exterior fading into something that hit an edge of tension, pulling pulling pulling until she thought she was going to watch him finally snap.

But he said, “You do.”

“Fuck. You,” Sol bit out. The anger flared hot in her chest. It was, at last, a familiar emotion; anger and not panic, filling her up. Drowning out the sadness that tried to rip through her like a wildfire. “I told you. I told you I wasn’t doing it again.”

“I’m different.” Now it was his turn to sound almost petulant, his grip on her wrist like iron. “You said that yourself. That we’re—”

“Not different enough,” she snapped. “Apparently, anyway, since you couldn’t wait longer than two months to try and put your name on me, could you?” Trying to pull her wrist out of his grip proved futile, and she managed out with the timbre of her voice vibrating with poison, “And get your fucking hand off of me, Joseph.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he finally loosened his hold on her wrist. Enough to let her pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t. Isolde stayed firmly put, willing her legs to carry her somewhere else—back home would probably be the best thing, driving the hours it takes between Hope County and the nearest lick of civilization.

You said that yourself. I’m different. 

He was. She wanted to say, you are, Joseph, but she didn’t, because she knew that it would only start them in another circle again, a snake swallowing its own tail in an endless cycle. 

So they stood there for a moment: neither of them saying anything, her last threat hanging, jolts of anger fizzing and popping in the air between them. Isolde’s hand slid just enough to catch at the wrist in Joseph’s grip, and he took her hand instead, then, tugging lightly to draw her close to him.

Testing her out. Feeling her boundaries. She’d basically said I’ll tear your hand off if you don’t listen to me, but he didn’t think she would. And now he was going to slam those buttons—slide his fingers under her edges until he found the exact farthest he could push her.

“I won’t,” Joseph said, very low and quiet, “let you do this to me, Isolde.”

She had been expecting something else. Something sweet, maybe—Joseph liked to do that. Sweet girl, he’d say to her, and if anyone else had tried to call her girl they would’ve gotten dumped, but with this viper it was different. It didn’t feel condescending when Joseph said it to her. It just felt covetous. 

And that’s what he was best at: bite, and then soothe. It made his sharp edges more tolerable. It made them nice. But now he was all sharp edges, only hard lines, catching on her and tearing every time the two of them made contact. It had always been this way; John had said that he thought they were poorly matched, and at the time, she’d written it off as John not liking to share even his business partner with his older brother. 

Now more than ever, she thought that he was right. They were both too unwieldy, too wretched, to let someone else sway them from their opinions.

“You are so fucking dramatic,” Isolde said, pulling her hand out of his grip at last and turning on her heel. “We don’t need to be married to be together. And your antiquated notion—”

“There are things I want to accomplish, and they’re best done with a wife—”

“I’m sorry, did you hear a period punctuating the end of my sentence? Don’t fucking talk over me, Joseph,” she snapped. For one split second, she saw something vicious flicker over Joseph’s face—just for that one, tiny second—and then he cleared his face. 

After a second of silence, of waiting for Joseph to try and get the last word in, she finished, “You don’t know me well enough to want to marry me. And—marriage is a scam, anyway. I would know, I handle nasty divorces every day at work.” I’ve handled my own nasty divorce. “If you’re looking for a pretty housewife to sit around statuesque and have dinner ready for you when you come home, then—well, then you really don’t fucking know me.”

Joseph was silent. His jaw worked, his eyes sweeping over her, tension radiating off of her until he said, “I guess I don’t.”

“I guess so,” Isolde agreed. Another moment of silence, where it felt like they were circling each other like wounded dogs, and she said, “I’m going to go—”

“Fine,” he interrupted, the thing that he knew she hated. “When you’ve calmed down, we can discuss this like adults.”

“There isn’t anything to discuss,” she said, gathering up her coat and keys and walking up the stairs. “I’m not going to change my mind, Joseph.”

From the kitchen, she heard him agree, “Not yet.”

“Shut up,” Isolde snapped. “You make me so fucking mad.”

He didn’t respond to that; she heard him moving around in the kitchen, gathering things and putting them away as she hauled her suitcase down to the front door. He met her at the door, opening it for her—which pissed her off half as much as him putting an engagement ring on her finger.

It shouldn’t have, but it did. It was like he was saying, I know you’ll be back, so go on. Feel free to leave whenever you’d like.

Like the gentleman he was, he carried her suitcase out and loaded it into the car, lingering around the driver’s side as she threw her coat inside. And then she was the one waiting, unsure of what to do; the muscle memory of her body said, kiss him goodbye, the fury in her brain screaming to get in the car and leave.

“When you change your mind,” he reiterated calmly, reaching up and brushing the hair from her face, “you know how to get in touch with me.”

Isolde’s gaze flickered at the touch, Joseph’s warm, heady cologne washing over her as the space between them vanished. She said, the amber and vetiver of him welling up inside of her and filling her like a wineskin, “I won’t.”

His lips grazed her temple, fingers brushing her jaw. “I love you, Isolde.”

Fucking narcissist, she thought, venomously, pulling away from him. Her gaze drifted over his face, trying to find something familiar, something that reminded her of the man she had thought she had loved—but who had clearly proven he was incapable of thinking of anyone but himself.

So finally, she bit out, “This is what you think love is?”

She wanted the words to sting. She wanted them to wipe the tranquility off of his face. He had always been so composed; the wretchedness in her wanted to shake it out of him, making him squirm like he was so good at doing to her.

But he didn’t; his mouth ticked upward in a serene smile, eyes fixed on her as he stepped back from the car. He seemed confident in himself—that it was love, that she would see it was. One day.

I won’t let you do this to me, he’d said.

“Have a safe drive,” he called, when she slammed the door. It was an hour to the airport; an hour, and then however long of a flight, however long she’d have to wait for the next flight heading out to Georgia.

Joseph turned and walked back inside as she pulled out of the driveway, as carefully as she could through the snow; in her rearview mirror, she saw him stop at the door and turn to look, eyes fixed on her.

There are plenty of people I wish were dead, too.

#fic: witching hour #otp: i could sleep inside the cold of you #witching hour interlude #joseph seed x ofc #joseph seed/ofc #ch: isolde khan #ch: joseph seed #this felt important to include #a lot of it is polished from my pre-cult canon but it feels!!!!! #necessary to give them a bit more context esp for folks who only see my content on ao3 #thank u everyone for being patient w me <3 #my writing #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic

[dibberdipper]

Cheap frat party beer

Pairing: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: Drinking, suggestive themes, language

Word count: About 1,500

Summary: Pining was never Poppy’s style. No matter how much she’s going against her gut feeling, she just might not regret going to this boring party.

Author’s note: I tried to fix as many grammar mistakes as I could, I am so sorry if you found a few. Thank you so much for the comments of support on my last post, this is my first official fic on here so I really hope everyone enjoys! 

Her name was Poppy Min-Sinclair. She needed no introduction, she knew it was pure luck and privilege that led her to the top of the Belvoir food chain. She had everything, from the perfect grades, the perfect ranking, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect boyfriend, she could go on.

But for some reason ever since that new girl stepped foot in her life, she was left wanting something more. Bea Hughes came along and took over her entire life in an instant. It frustrated Poppy to no end. How could a girl rise the ranks so quickly in mere days? How did she already gain the attention of the whole school?

More importantly, the question she was the most startled by was why she was so infatuated. She had never felt this helpless over someone since private school. It felt like every encounter was a ticking time bomb until she finally gave in and forgot about who she was. She could be absolutely anybody she wanted, yet she wanted nothing more than to be the Belvoire’s newest fascinations girlfriend.

Instead of paying attention in class, or actually paying attention to the daily mindless gossip, she found herself reliving memories made days prior. The intrigue when she first met her, the pure rage and what almost felt like fun when Bea pretty much threw her in the jello pool, and the embarrassment that was her take down.

“What, are you obsessed with me?”

Just thinking about that moment sent her butterflies in her stomach fluttering, she’s never felt that familiar warm sensation on her cheeks at least since elementary school.

Before she could finish her daydreams, to her disappointment they just had to be interrupted.

“Poppy? Poppy!!”

She rolled her eyes.

“What am I, a dog your trying to train? Stop yelling in my damn ear.” She sneered at her friend.

Chloe huffed. “Poppy, you need to go to this weekend’s party. The last one was like, so embarrassing for you-“

Poppy sent her a warning glare, she gulped in response.

“My point is you need to show up and try to embarrass her back.”

Though deep down, she felt a rush of excitement for what could possibly go down, silently regretting her relationship status, but she could never let her thoughts be known.

She gave her right hand woman a sly smile. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll give them a show.”

Over the weekend

“Oh, um, babe I didn’t expect to see you here after the last one.” He scratched the back of his neck, waiting for her response.

Poppy’s attention wasn’t on her boyfriend, but on the girl at the other side of the room. Bea took a moment to notice her, and gave her a sly smirk when she did. Poppy gave her a cold look over her shoulder to keep her facade of disgust up. After a tense moment, Carter nudged her shoulder.

“Babe?”

Poppy finally came up with a response after not paying attention to him, her eyes still glued on Bea’s.

“Well, I had to show somebody I’m not willing to give up my spot so easily. I have to show everyone at this party that I’m Poppy Min-Sinclair and not just ‘Bitch that was yeeted into jello’-“ Before she finished her rant, she tore her eyes away from Bea for a moment to glance at Carter. It was evident Bea hadn’t caught only her attention.

Time seemed to freeze as she felt a plan spin in her head. She was no stranger to orchestrating these evil ideas, otherwise she wouldn’t be ranked number one. She took in her surroundings; Carter’s wandering eyes, the cooler behind them that was filled to the brim with cheap canned beer, and the inviting stare from the girl across the room. She took a deep breath, no matter how many times she’s concocted these ideas, they didn’t make her feel anymore secure.

“Fuck it.” She reached behind her, opened the cooler, and chugged the bitter taste as fast as she could.

Thinking she was only trying to prove herself ‘cool’ Carter chuckled.

“Baby, I don’t mind leaving for a bit to get you something you’ll actually like from-“

“No, you listen here!” She jabbed a finger to his chest.

“I’m not going to be humiliated and stand around while you’re eye-fucking another girl. You’re as disposable as anybody else in this damn school, and I’m not!”

She knew she was no lightweight but nobody else knew that, not even Chloe. She caught Veronica live-streaming her whole ‘meltdown’. If everything backfired, she knew she could easily hide behind the classic too much beer excuse.

She played off most of the eyes watching her, as she swayed her hips over to the only pair of eyes she cared were watching. Perhaps to everyone else it looked like a cat fight about to go down, or a thinly veiled threat. But only Bea Hughes and her partner in crime Zoey Wade knew what she really whispered.

“Go upstairs, turn left, and walk ahead until you see the last dorm on the right. Leave five minutes after me.”

Before she walked away, she was sure to send a glare to Zoey.

“Alone.”

Poppy impatiently tapped her fingers on her lap wondering if it was all a mistake. She bit her lip, questioning herself and whether everything backfire until the door slammed open.

“Poppy I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing but-“

“Kiss me.” The words blurred out of her mouth without her even realizing it.

Bea’s mouth hung wide open in shock. “I… I’m sorry, excuse me, but what the fuck?”

“Do you want me to say please or what?”

Bea closed the door behind her, and took a few steps over. The room was almost completely dark, with the exception of the moonlight crawling in with the party lights. She felt Bea’s hands, that she noticed were bigger than hers, cup her face. She took in her deep dark eyes, the beautiful brown tone of her skin, and her inviting lips adorned in red lipstick. Bea drew back.

“Look your breath smells like alcohol, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

She was turned her away, but Poppy grabbed her hands in protest.

“I may not look like it, but I swear I can handle plenty of drinks. Don’t walk away when I’m not even drunk.”

Bea met her eyes, and gave the woman in front of her with pure desperation in her eyes her signature sly smirk.

“Is Poppy Min-Sinclair, ranked number one in Belvoire, begging the small town girl to kiss her?”

Poppy swallowed any cocky remarks back, along with her pride. “She is. If you keep her waiting, she might just walk out.”

Poppy felt Bea’s warm hands on her face again, and her sultry whisper in her ear. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we…”

Bea nibbled her ear, making Poppy let out a soft moan. A sound neither of them knew she could make until that moment.

Their lips met after only a week of glaring, pettiness mixed met with almost immediate pining, and just all around sexual tension. Neither of them knew a sensation could be so intense with somebody they had only just known. They skipped the friends milestone, straight to enemies, to whatever they were now.

Bea’s hands wondered into her hair, Poppy’s hands roaming over Bea’s back. Her fingers trailing downwards, her heart beat’s pace quickened. She anticipated every moment next. Poppy felt Bea’s hands linger at the hem of her skirt, when they heard the knob turn. They pushed each other away, straightening her clothes. Poppy immediately dropped down and hid under the bed as the door opened.

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been gone for a while and I wanted to be sure you didn’t need any backup.”

Bea sent a playful glance to Poppy, Poppy’s heart freezing. The rush of excitement overwhelming her, she didn’t know whether Bea would expose her right now or keep their secret act in the night a secret.

“Little miss Poppy Min-Sinclair never showed up. A shame really.”

Zoey laughed. “You really scared that girl into chickening out of talking to you.” Poppy glared at Bea, and Bea stifled a giggle.

“Anyways the guys downstairs want to play beer pong, you can go up a few ranks since Veronica’s live-streaming. You can’t miss it!”

Bea shot a sneaky look at Poppy, and looked back at Zoey.

“Ten minutes tops, ever since Poppy essentially ditched me here I’ve gotten a bit sleepy. When I’m done I’m going to sleep in here, I’m sure whoever this room belongs to won’t mind too much.”

“Sounds like a plan, ready to kick some ass Bea?”

They walked out of the eye sight for Poppy, and she heard them leave the room with one last piece of dialogue slipping out. Poppy’s heart sunk.

“Please don’t try to wake me up or anything, I have a feeling I’ll be in there for a few hours.”

Poppy slowly tiptoed to the door, closing it. She sighed and sat back on the bed. There was nothing for her to do for the next ten minutes but sit there and smell like cheap frat party beer.

Thank you for reading! Tagging: @lolimugly @origmansello @grapecaseschoices @mvalentine @greatestflirt-hero​ @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @coldbatfriendroad@that-one-choices-person @ariel-0318 @drethanramslay @queensayeed @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @rotten-teddy-bear @aguywiththreepairsofglasses @elijahmessenger @axiel90 @ritafarrr @erza-elcy-crimson @poshbiscuit @sarasansone98 @ghalind @that-one-choices-person @dervaux @generaldameronss @adrianadmirer @anonymous--anteater @everythingchoices

#poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #Queen B

[fabricated-misslieness]

Kuroo Tetsurō x gender neutral reader

Y’all going clubbing

Requested: No

Word Count: 1,496

College AU where all the boys are in college but only Akaashi, Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Kuroo are mentioned.

(t/n) = teasing nickname

(a/d) = your alcoholic drink of choice

Warnings: Drinking, swearing

“Let’s go out drinking.”

“Eh?!”

“Yeah!”

“No way!” (y/n) shouted into their phone, startling the four other people in the call and the middle-aged parents around them. They bowed slightly to them and turned their attention back to their phone call.

“Please refrain from shouting, (t/n).” Tsukishima said in a monotone voice.

“Calm down, BarBe.”

Kuroo made it a point to give his friends nicknames based on chemistry puns or some other academic ‘I’M SMARTER THAN YOU’ nicknames. (y/n)’s nickname was Barium Beryllium, usually abbreviated to BaBe, the couples’ pet name, but sometimes abbreviated to BarBe instead to tease them.

(y/n) rolled their eyes, continuing to pick out their groceries. “I mean, you don’t want to go either, do you, Tsukki?”

“I didn’t scream about it.”

“Oh shut up!” They exclaimed, keeping in mind the people around them.

“Kuroo-san, I don’t see how drinking will help when finals are just around the corner.” Akaashi butt in before the two of them could start an argument.

“Stress-reliever, you know? We’ve got a week of study ‘till finals. There’s no harm in it.” Kuroo replied.

“I’m with Kuroo on this one,” Bokuto said. “Where’s the harm in a little fun?”

“Getting black out drunk and having a one night stand.”

“Getting black out drunk and being kidnapped.”

Tsukishima and Akaashi started listing out the possible consequences, outlandish or not. (y/n) stayed silent, picking out which ones were least probable to happen in their head.

“Ok, ok, we get it!” Kuroo exclaimed.

(y/n) got their necessary groceries and walked over to the self checkout as Kuroo and Bokuto started listing out the pros.

“It’s-- We’ll--” They were failing miserably at it. “It’ll help you dance better!”

“And-- and alcohol tastes great!”

They kept listing ridiculous pros, though pros nonetheless, as (y/n) finished checking out, paying, and leaving the store.

They started walking home but then stopped in their step as their eyes landed on the two males in front of them. A deathly silence surrounded them for three minutes straight, making Akaashi and Tsukishima ask what was happening.

“Is something--” As If Akaashi’s voice was the cue, Kuroo ran forward and swooped (y/n) over his shoulder, making them drop their groceries, Bokuto picking them up.

Bokuto and Kuroo hung up in sync as they started walking towards (y/n)’s home.

“Kuroo, what the fuck!?” They shouted, attracting the attention of the people around them.

People gave them odd looks, as they should, but Kuroo kept assuring them everything was fine and they were just friends.

“Akaashi, I’m being abducted, call 110!”

Tsukishima burst out laughing while Akaashi shook his head, even if they couldn’t see him. “So that’s why they hung up…”

Bokuto swiftly stole (y/n)’s phone and said, “You’re coming with us to party or else (y/n)’s not helping you study.”

As smart as Tsukishima and Akaashi were, (y/n) had some good ass notes and their studying method was amazing. Studying with them was almost always a guaranteed pass.

Akaashi groaned, muttering an “Alright”, before hanging up.

Tsukishima huffed before hanging up as well, though he may not have said anything he was going to come, his grades were at stake here.

(y/n) wasn’t a damsel in distress or a dainty person, but the grip of a volleyball player and said volleyball player also keeping a hold of them with both of his arms was enough to keep them in place. They gave up trying to escape and seeing as they couldn’t, decided to make the most fun out of it.

They slapped Kuroo in the ass… 😔✌️

“(Y/N) WHAT THE FUCK!”

Even more people looked at them now, but neither Bokuto nor Kuroo had a sense of shame. 

When they arrived at (y/n)’s apartment, they stole their keys and threw them onto their bed. (y/n) crossed their arms as they saw the two volleyball players raiding their closet.

Bokuto let out ‘ooh’s and ‘ah’s at all the more fashionable clothes while Kuroo actually picked out some clothes.

When Kuroo finished checking out (y/n)’s entire closet, he had quite a good outfit planned out for them. The guy might have been a dork, but he was a fashionable dork.

Kuroo yeeted the clothes, gently, at (y/n).

“Go change.”

“Kuroo, it’s 4 pm.”

“Oh shit, you rite you right”

They spent the next four hours chatting around and face-timing Tsukishima and Akaashi.

While (y/n) went to make a light dinner, you don’t want to throw up a whole ass meal, Kuroo went to go get some stylish clothes for Bokuto and him while Bokuto chatted with (y/n) as they made their food.

“You know you’re just going to end up throwing it all up, right?”

(y/n) rolled their eyes, “Shut up, Tsukki.”

“I swear, if y’all start to fight while drunk I’m not taking you home.” Akaashi stated.

“Yo, I’m back.” (y/n) turned their head and bit their lips at the sight to behold.

That fashionable dork was wearing something that could make anyone thirsty. He threw Bokuto’s outfit at him, his looked less fashionable seeing as Bokuto doesn’t care about his clothes as much.

Kuroo looked at (y/n) and sent a wink over as his eyes landed on their lips.

(y/n)’s face scrunched up in fake disgust, making Kuroo laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t see those lips, BaBe.”

Bokuto tilted his head at the two like a clueless owl.

Once (y/n) had eaten, they went to change into the clothes Kuroo picked out. They walked out of their bedroom with Kuroo wolf-whistling at them teasingly.

“BaBe, catch.” He threw a bell choker necklace at them, which they caught.

“Kuroo, I’m not a cat.”

Kuroo shrugged, making his way out the door. “It suits your outfit.”

(y/n) sighed, putting the choker on and making sure it wasn’t too tight. Kuroo was right, it suited their outfit but it’s quite uncomfortable.

“To our finals!”

The five of them clinked their glasses together. “To our finals?” Tsukishima teased, taking a sip from his drink.

“Well, yeah. We came drinking as a stress-reliever.” Kuroo replied. “Duh.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, already pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, Tsukishima. We’re danc--”

“Hey, hottie. Wanna dance?” The group turned to the tall guy with light brown hair who had just put his hand on (y/n)’s shoulder. 

The guy went down to whisper into (y/n)’s ear, “I’m making that guy over there,” he pointed to the black-haired guy looking at the both of them. “..jealous.”

(y/n) smirked, nodding their head. “Sure, cutie.” They quickly downed their drink and stood up, whispering into the guy’s ear, “I’m making the bed-head jealous.” The brunette laughed, taking their hand in his.

He tugged them to the dance floor.

“So, what’s your name?”

“(l/n) (y/n), yours?”

“Hanamaki Takahiro. Thanks for helping.”

(y/n) laughed, “Thank you, too.”

After a few minutes of dancing, with the other two guys eyeing them up, Kuroo walked over. “Hey, babe.” Usually he’d pronounce it, Ba Be, but now he pronounced it babe. It was clear he was jealous.

“Can I steal them away?”

Hanamaki hummed, pretending he was making a decision. As he did, the other guy walked over and wrapped his arm around Hanamaki’s waist. “Go ahead.” The guy said, pulling Hanamaki away.

Kuroo gave the guy a smile, pulling (y/n) away as well. He pulled them to sit a booth over from the other three.

Akaashi wasn’t planning on drinking much that day, Tsukishima was on his phone, and Bokuto dancing was a terrible idea so Akaashi was holding him back from doing so.

Kuroo placed his drink and a(n) (a/d) on their table. “Your dancing was good.”

“Oh really?” (y/n) teased, picking up their drink.

Kuroo laughed drily, “Of course.” They toasted silently before both of them took a drink. He wanted to drink the night away and dance later and (y/n) took note of that.

“Hey, Kuroo?” They switched seats to sit next to him. “Before we get shitfaced, since I know I’ll say this tonight, I like you.”

They downed their drink and called over for seconds. When they turned back to Kuroo, he pulled them into a kiss. The kiss was hungry, long, and passionate. They pulled apart only when they needed air.

“Were you trying to make me jealous?”

(y/n) huffed out a laugh, pecking Kuroo on the lips. They took a swig of their drink and gave Kuroo a smile. “Yeah, I was. The other guy, Hanamaki, was too.”

“Oh fuck you, sweetheart.”

They laughed it off. “Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” Kuroo asked, he was awfully shy for someone who got confessed to three minutes ago as well as being on his third drink.

“Tetsurō , as much as I would love to, finals are close.”

“Study date?”

“Hmm, sure.”

That night they may or may have not made out while being black out drunk, or maybe (y/n) wasn’t black out drunk. Depends on how well you can take your alcohol.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x gender neutral reader #gym 3 #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #nightclub

[dreamingofmilk]

The Fight

Synopsis: You and Erik got into a fight and you were ready to cool off on your own. Too bad Erik had other plans

Word Count : 1458

Warnings: cursing

"I'm tired of having the same argument with you Erik! I'm done!" You could barely see through the tears building in your eyes, but you knew you had to get some space. There was no way you would be able to have a civilized discussion with him right now. You quickly made your way to your bedroom, ready to pack yourself a bag for the night.

Erik was right on your tail, his footsteps drowning yours out. “Where the fuck are you going Y/N?! We’re not finished here!” He did this every time you had an argument. You always wanted to get away and gather your thoughts, he wanted to completely hash everything out then forget about it. It honestly drove you crazy. You weren’t built to do that. You needed time to yourself after an argument. You opened the bedroom door and headed straight for the closet, where your favorite duffel bag was. You grabbed it from the shelf and sat it on the bed, ignoring Erik’s shocked face in the doorway.

“So you’re just going to leave Y/N? Where are you even going?” You could hear the anger building in his voice. This may just become another argument itself. You started grabbing the first few clothes you could grab, it honestly didn’t matter what you had. You’d make it work when you got to your best friend’s house. You just needed a night away to think without Erik in your face. 

You turned to him, slightly calmer than before. “I’m going to Angela’s. I need some time to think.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’ve got me fucked up if you think I’m gonna let you leave this house right now Y/N. You aren’t leaving here mad at me, and I’ll be damned if you drive mad.” He stormed over to you and snatched your clothes out of your hands and started to put them back into the dresser.

“What the fuck Erik! Stop! I just told you I needed time to think! I can’t do that with you breathing down my neck!”

He made a grab for the duffel bag, but you moved it out of reach. “No, we’re going to sit down and we’re going to talk this out. I don’t care if you hit me, scream, holler, whatever you need to, but neither one of us are leaving this house until we fix this. I’m not letting you stay mad at me, and I’ll be damned if you go and tell your friends so they can hate me too.”

He extended his hand, “Give me the bag, Y/N. If you don’t I’m gonna take it from you by force.”

You were getting angrier and angrier the more he talked. “Why do you have no regard for my feelings and needs Erik? I just told you I need some time to think on my own and you’re going to force me to stay around you?”

He was shaking his head before you even finished talking. “You know damn well that’s not what’s happening Y/N. Don’t even start that. I’m not forcing you to be around me, I’m forcing you to help me work this out instead of running off and talking shit with your friends. I’m tired of you running off every time we have an argument. We are both going to stay here and get to the bottom of this.”

He manages to swipe your duffel bag this time. “Ugh!”  you groan in frustration. There was no way you were going to get it back before he wanted you to. “I hate you so much right now!”

Erik nodded and sat on the bed. “That’s fine. Now sit your ass down and talk to me.”

Part of you knew you didn’t really have a choice. Either you sat down or he was going to force you to. Even though you knew that, the other part of you wanted to be petty and not just obey him outright. Make him understand how mad you were. You crossed your arms and shook your head. “I’m not a dog. I don’t sit when I’m told.”

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re lucky I really love you Y/N. You’re getting on my damn nerves. Sit down and tell me how you’re feeling.”

You started checking your nails, refusing to acknowledge that he said anything at all. If he was going to act an ass you will too.

“Alright, cool. We can do this the hard way.” That was all you heard before Erik jumped up from the bed and threw you over his shoulder. It caught you completely off guard. You expected him to pull you on the bed, but this was a whole other level of crazy. You started beating your hands against his back. “Let me go!”

His voice was like steel. “Never.”

He carried you out of the bedroom, and through the house to the kitchen. He sat you on the counter and before you could slip around him he planted his arms on either side of you, trapping you in. He took one hand and grabbed your chin firmly. “I’m going to ask you one more time Y/N. Tell me what has you so angry so I can fix it.”

You sighed in resignation. You may as well give in now, there was no getting out of this. Besides, who knows what this crazy man will do next if you don’t listen to him. You took a few deep breaths and looked into his eyes. “I don’t like that you keep talking to her. She’s trying to be messy, and I don’t like the way she acts around you. It’s disrespectful as fuck that you keep entertaining her.”

His eyes didn’t veer from yours once while you were talking. You had his undivided attention. “It’s not like that Y/N. I keep telling you that. She’s dating my best friend, I can’t cut her off like that.”

You shook your head. “You don’t see the way she looks at me when you aren’t around. She has every intention of taking you from me. That’s why she finds any reason to touch you. Your friend honestly needs to watch his back. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was checking for other men too.”

Erik nodded, “If it worries you that much, then I will not be around her whenever you aren’t with me. I’ll let T’Challa know what’s going on.” He moved in closer to your face, your noses bumping. “I want you to listen to me though Y/N. No woman is taking me away from you. I’ve already told you I’m not ever letting you go. You are my endgame, my future. I’m not throwing that away for some girl.” He kissed you gently. “I really mean that shit babe. Tell me you believe me.” 

You pouted and crossed your arms. He wasn't listening! Erik noticed your change in body language and leaned in to kiss you again, "Tell me you believe me, baby." You continued to ignore him. He moved down and started kissing your neck. "Baby, tell me you believe me."

You were turning into putty in his hands, but you were adamant about this. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, you couldn’t tolerate the disrespect. Him letting this girl sniff all around him made you look bad. Like you didn’t have a hold on your man. You scoffed, “Tell me you won’t let Cassidy disrespect me anymore.”

He smiled, his fronts shining teasingly at you “Fuck that bitch, Y/N. I’ll yeet her across the room if that’s what it takes to make you feel comfortable. She’s nothing, and you know that. I only put up with her because T’Challa is really feeling her.”

You laughed, “Good. Yeet her ass every time she comes up to you.” Erik kissed you again and moved his hand to the back of your head to fist your hair.

“You didn’t answer me babe. Tell me you believe me.”

You nodded. “Of course I do babe. I love your crazy ass. Just don’t let anything like this happen again. I really don’t like having to watch some other girl act like she has a shot with you.”

Erik picked you back up, your legs around his waist. “Never. I’ll mush every girl that gets in my face baby.” He pushed your forehead so hard you almost fell off of him. “Just like that.” He was laughing so hard your body moved with his chest.

You hit the back of his head. “Fuck you Erik!”

He just smirked, his hands palming your ass, “Don't worry baby, you will.”

Taglist:

@aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy​ @marvelmaree​

#milkyfics #milk fic #milkymondays #erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #erik kilmonger fic #milkfics #milky fics

[goth-girlfriend]

GIF originally posted by Demigodxtonio

Pairing:

Enji Todorki/ Endeavor x Student areader

Summary:

After the sports festival you spend a week with the man who’s company accidentally sent you a request.

Notes: No fluff or Smut, slight ooc

Part: 1/?

🖤💙❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️💙🖤

“Hey, Todoroki.” I looked at the split haired boy.

We recently become, friends? He doesn’t do much talking rather then listening and staring.

“Hm?” He hummed his answer back.

“How tough is your dad?” I asked pulling my long sleeves into the center of my palms.

“If your not up to his standards he will break you down and remold you in a way that leave you feeling empty for his own sick pleasure of being able to take down the number one hero.” Todoroki kept a straight face but his voice was colder.

“Okay then.” I nodded and kept following. “Why didn’t you stop me when I said I wanted to take this offer?”

“The thought of being alone with my own father was unbearable. With the company of someone I know and am comfortable with, I thought it would be easier.” He didn’t look at me.

May heart warmed, the company of someone he’s comfortable with, usually he just refers to me as someone he knows. I smiled, and looked down.

“Honestly I don’t think he wanted me, It was probably some mistake.” I shrugged.

“So are you sure your okay with my crush on your dad and being this close?” I asked nudging his shoulder with my own.

He let out the friendly version of a scoff, “Just don’t do anything weird when I’m around.”

He nudged me back and I grinned, “Got it, keep the weirdness of the down low.”

We stopped in he shadow of a large building.

“It’s huge,” I felt a familiar line coming, “Sure it’s big enough, but just look at the location.”

I laughed at my reference, Shoto let out like two laughs before he gave me a look.

“Oh right, no weirdness got it.” I coughed to clear my throat.

“We should watch another DreamWorks or Pixar movie. Or like go to Univesal, I’ve only ever been to the one in Florida, and I live in Japan you would think this would be the Universal I got to but no.” I talked to Todorki.

He nodded not really listening but taking it in. Then, we entered the Lobby. There he was, all six foot four and two hundred and forty pounds of daddy.

“Shoto.” He greeted his son.

“You must be (L/n),” he eyes me, I felt nervous but if it showed he’d probably shun me.

So instead I took a deep breath, stood straight and puffed out my chest. I looked him dead in the eye and did a quick bow.

“Yes Sir, I’m (Y/n) (L/n) of Class 1-A” I held my breath, if I die, it’s because he rejected me.

“Well, you know how to present yourself at least.” He scoffed and turned around.

I sighed and deflated, I looked at Todoroki, he had a faint smile but nodded at me.

“I’ll just follow you.” I sighed catching my breath.

“Yeah, you did better then what others have done. They think submission is the way to go. No one understands that to work here you need to be assertive but respectful...” Shoto said looking down.

“Why would you want a coward for a Hero?” I asked out my left hand on his right shoulder. “Also it’s probably a bad time but I’m hungry.”

I whispered the last part hoping Endeavor wouldn’t hear me.

The day passed quickly, we learned what we’d be doing. I’d go on patrols with whatever hero I could, and do coffee runs for the office. I mean I didn’t work myself to the bone to be a secretary. Endeavor took Shoto away so I wouldn’t even have anyone to talk to. I huffed and made my way to the elevator.

“Stupid coffee, stupid card, stupid barista, stupid man who bumped into me and made me go back to buy more coffee.” I mumbled and stepped into the elevator.

My phone rang, “Hello?” I asked.

“Yes, (y/n)?” It was the secretary from the floor Endeavor was on.

“Yes, how can I help you?” I asked the same line over and over.

“The meeting is about to begin, do you have the coffee and breads?”

“YES,” I seethed through my teeth aggravated as the elevator stopped and no one was there.

“I’m coming up right now.” I spoke through clenched teeth.

“Alright, thank you.” She spoke.

“ITS YOUR JOBS TO GET COFFEE AND RUN ORDERS NOT MINE KAREN! IM A STUDENT WHO IS SUPPOSED TO LEARN ABOUT THE HERO WOLRD NOT BE A STUPID SECRETARIES ASSISTANT!”

I stripped my cloak off, revealing the mesh bodysuit I wore under leggings, and the other things I wore. I tightened the black strips of fabric around my wrist and began fidgeting.

“You’re late.” Endeavors message Pushed it.

I rushed out of the elevator and to the secretaries desk, “Do your job you lazy scum I shouldn’t have to run coffee and bread and papers back and forth, I’m on an internship you get paid to do this I’m not here to do your job I’m here to learn what being a hero is like.”

I slapped my cloak onto her desk, the coffee splashed onto her crisp white shirt and stained her papers. I turned and rushed down the hall to the meeting room. I shoved the door open and gently placed the coffee and bread on the table. I turned to Endeavor, he seemed aggravated at my disturbance.

“Sir, you look aggravated,” I played and stepped in his direction, “Maybe you should take a break.”

I faked worry, Todoroki was staring at me and whoever was at the other end of the table was staring.

“Maybe you should take a break, it’s what I do when I’m aggravated.” I looked at him, anger emitting from him.

I sat on the table, “I mean, today, I’ve taken it all, someone’s wrong breakfast order, all over the back on my cloak, four cups of hot coffee to my chest and stomach. A perverted man harassing and then groping me when I was running papers for your secretary.”

I crossed my right leg over my left leg, “Every patrol opportunity I was given, has been cancelled, or I was told I was not allowed to go.”

I looked at to my left, there sat the guest, I smiled and nodded. It was hawks.

“Hello, hope your having a good day, would you like some bread?” I offered the bag.

He took it and offered some to Tokoyami.

“Also, I have gained little to no experience, I have five days to learn something, and so far everyone who works here acts like they hate me, and honestly I’m starting to hate it here.” I smiled at Endeavor.

“So, I quit.” I tossed my tag at him.

He caught it with one hand, he watched me as I slid off the table.

I walked to the door, “Make sure Karen or whoever knows how you like your coffee, God forbid she have to run back to the coffeeshop five times in an hour.” I snarled and slammed the door open.

I walked out before I heard laughing, And then a growl. I took the stairs and rolled my eyes, I’ll just call Aizawa and study under him if it comes to it. I’ll even take Present if it comes to it. Making to the lobby I looked down at my phone. I opened it to call the contact number Aizawa gave us, just as I went to push call my phone was snatched. I looked up to meet golden eyes and glasses.

“Your boss is looking for you babe, better go back.” He laughed and his red wings flared slightly.

I stared at them, “nice wings, be a shame to lose them.” I said and ‘reached’ for my phone.

He pulled his hand back and left me and opening, between his shoulder and neck I reached right over and touch his wings. His eyes widened as his wings closed to his back.

And some sprouted from my own back with sick cracks.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“Give it an hour, you’ll be fine.” I shrugged and took my phone out of his hand.

“She is able to permanently copy quirks of others if she can touch it physically. It leaves her opponent at a disadvantage of not being to use their own quirk for a certain amount of time.” Tokoyami said and stepped around.

“Must be nice having a chill guy for a boss.” I told Tokoyami.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Hey, Get back here I don’t wanna do this alone.” -❄️🔥

I sighed and turned around to the elevator, “Todoroki needs help.”

👌- ☀️🖤

I got into the elevator and headed back up. Todoroki was outside his dads office, I haven’t even been in there.

He had a huge smile on his face, I pouted.

“I wanna go home.” I smacked my head into the closest wall.

“Yeah, no. He wants to talk to you so have fun.” Todoroki opened the door and waited for you to go.

“Come with me.” You whispered.

“Ok.” So you took a deep breath and walked in, only to hear.

“Yeet.” And the door closing.

Did, Shoto just yeet?

I looked up, Endeavor was standing in a window, the sun casting its glow over him. He was taking out over the city. It’s a sight I’d like to enjoy if I weren’t so aggravated.

“Sit down, we have a lot to discuss.” His voice tumbled and I sighed.

“Alright.” I was tired of taking orders, he didn’t specify what seat so I took his desk chair and turned in it to face him.

“What?” I asked.

He turned to me, and with a very hard stare told me to get out of his seat. I sighed and got up and stood by his desk.

“Why are you upset, you embarrassed me and my agency in front of guests.” He said and sat down, his legs spread a bit for comfort.

“Well Incase you didn’t understand, I’m just a secretary. I didn’t come here to be a secretary.” I sassed looking at him.

“I see,” he turned him his chair towards me.

“Come here.” He pointed in-front of his lap.

I flushed and hesitated, but walked over.

“Get on your knees.”

I dropped and looked down I couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“Give me your hand.” I prepared my self for lewd actions.

I flinched feeling a burning sensation as a loud smack filled the room. I looked up at him tears in my eyes from the pain. He held a thick flat stick. It resembled a ruler, he placed it on his desk.

“Stand up,” I stood and tried not to flinch.

“Your going to wait here while I rearrange the schedule.” I nodded and turned to go Alejandro the desk.

“I said wait here.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down into his lap.

I was burning, this is embarrassing. He leaned foreword, his arms came around my shoulders and his chin on my shoulder. I watched him move papers and write down a few things. It was hot, Why was I so nervous. There’s no way this is real right?

Sitting in the lap of the number two hero, my crush, best friends dad in his office at his agency? I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Well things didn’t get worse, but they got slightly better.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

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#enji todoroki #endeavour fic #endeavour #endeavourxreaded #enji todoroki x reader #my hero academia #buko no hero academia #x reader #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha endeavor #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #todoroki enji #todoroki x reader #endeavourxreader #endeavour x reader

[mitsuaziel]

Solomon and MC being crackheads

"Hey, where's MC?" Lucifer asks, papers in his hand.

"In their room." Satan's attention is diverted to the papers. "Hey, what are those?"

"These are the essays Lord Diavolo wish for MC to write. He wanted to read different opinions from each species but the topics he had chosen are so ridiculous that I could barely take him seriously." Lucifer sighs and shakes his head, making Satan chuckle.

"And what are the topics he had chosen?"

"...Teddy bears, rocks, swings and bags."

If Satan had a cup of tea, he would either choke on it or spit it out but either way, he ended up bursting out of laughter. "May I say, holy shit! Those are the most random topics I've heard in a while!"

The firstborn sighs and leaves his younger brother to his laughing fit. Approaching towards his human housemate's room, he swore he could hear another voice but he brushes it off, thinking that you were imitating someone else and by that someone else, he means some random people online yelling 'yeet' or 'oh, hi. Thanks for checking in I'm still a piece of garbage' or anything of the sort this fossil couldn't care to understand. Well, even if he did care, his old mind cannot handle the millennial jokes.

Raising his hand to knock on the door, he stops when he heard a familiar voice. 'It sounded like Solomon', he thought but shakes his head. Maybe he's imagining it which is something he highly thinks is possible seemingly that he's so sleep deprived that he can't think straight most of the times.

But when his knocks went unanswered, he grows impatient. "I'm coming in!"

Upon opening the great wooden barrier between your room and the horrible outside world, there stood both you and Solomon. One of Lucifer's stolen cloak draped around your shoulders, a mask covering the top part of your face and your hands covered with black gloves. Solomon, on the other hand, is wearing one of Asmodeus's dress and a wig.

"Sing, my angel! SING!" Your voice horribly deep and your singing is not making up for it as it sounds like a dying walrus.

Not that the sorcerer was any good. His high-pitched singing sounds like a screeching banshee and nails scraping a blackboard combined but somehow, the both of you weren't bothered by the fact. Well, no shit. Both of you are horrible singers that are perfectly in terrible sync. I'm sure you can make the Demon King pray to God for you two to stop and even then, God wouldn't even be much of a help since your singing might blow up his eardrums so the Demon King's prayers would go unanswered.

Which is true to my statement when Lucifer himself is covering his ears and maybe silently praying to his father that you two would stop to which you two didn't.

"What the blazes? What the hell are you two doing? And how did you get in here Solomon?" The prideful demon asks, not taking off his hands off his ears in fear that you might use your majestic (not) voice to make him deaf.

"I have my own ways." Solomon places a hand on his hip, the dress perfectly fitting his muscular but feminine figure. Someone, please draw this.

"What'chu here for, Lucifer?" You ask.

"Oh, yeah." Your singing might've caused him a small brain damage. "These are the essays you need to do. Lord Diavolo's-"

"Fuck that!" You curse, cutting off the demon's sentence. "F to the U to the C, K, that!"

Lucifer sighs. Help this old man. He's a single mother taking care of seven crackheads who's working under his future (please) husband and he's denser than THE Karasuma Tadaomi whenever Diavolo is flirting with him. "MC, this is Lord Diavolo's orders."

"And call me Obama's twin sibling cause' fuck that shit!" You immediately refused.

"MC."

"This calls for drastic measures."

You quickly open the window and drag Solomon with you then dramatically swing the cape around you and the sorcerer knew what you were about to do. With the deepest voice you could muster, you say, "I am Batman."

And jumped out of the window Papyrus style with Solomon tailing behind you. Lucifer, panicked, runs towards the window and looks out because there's no way a human could survive a two storey fall, right? Well, you proved him wrong when you and Solomon did a front flip and landed on the ground, laughing, "Hee hee!"

The two of you are now Naruto running towards wherever you two want to escape to. A Batman wannabe and a magical girl running off into the sunset, holding hands while laughing like Micheal Jackson. Truly, a romance better than Twilight.

I have no idea what I wrote. I might've been high while writing this but I hope you enjoyed!

#obey me solomon #obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #solomon is a crackhead #mc is also a crackhead

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 47

Well, I’m going to keep this intro short today. There isn’t really a lot of ways I can set up leading into today’s scene. So, please jump straight into...

    “Hee-hee! It’s really you!” Rosy giggled and could not keep herself still. She fidgeted all about and her tail was wagging with more energy than usual. Then, in an explosion of joy she flung herself at who she was speaking with. “TAILS!”

    “Ha-ha!” Tails laughed and struggled to keep himself balanced as Rosy embraced him in a huge diving hug. “It’s good to see you too Rosy! Woah!”

    Spun about by the force of Rosy’s embrace, Tails put his namesake twin tails to use and flew up with Rosy joyously hanging on to him. The sight was almost too much for Draw and Blister.

    “My, he’s an interesting one, isn’t he?”

    “Is he… I mean… how exactly…,” Draw stammered in comparison to Blister’s smooth handling of her surprise. Though that could have been partly due to her being a pirate and a merchant, or just the deliberate and sleepy sounding way she spoke.

    To calm Draw down, Sonic gently rapped his knuckles against his head. Clutching his head, the koala angrily turned onto Sonic. “What was that for!”

    “Just lending a hand,” Sonic laughed as he really did mean Draw no harm. As Draw was blunter than Blister and was not familiar with Tails like Mighty and Gill, Sonic did have to take a moment to be a little more serious. “And you can help him out by not making a fuss about them. Until you’re used to them enough to consider them normal, and by then you shouldn’t have a reason to.”

    “I get it, just don’t hit me!” Draw complained, even though he knew Sonic meant him no harm. Still, he had to get the last word in. And Sonic let him, though his smug smile told Draw it was not his victory. There was no time to keep at it though as everyone fully disembarked from Blister’s airship and moved to greet Tails.

    ~I’m so happy to have caught up with Tails, and of course he’s being as amazing as ever!

    ~Picking up his Ring Radio was a total surprise as Blister was simply trying to make sure hers was properly integrated with her ship. It’s something we can ask Tails to double check on later, but he’s been pretty busy. Being amazing of course~♥

    ~The last we knew, Tails was looking for another pit of radio signal boosting crystals like the ones at Radio Point. What he found instead was a whole medieval castle town, and not a normal one! This one was built entirely upside down on the underside of a giant land bridge. Maybe…~

    “It’s pretty wild Sonic,” Tails happily explained to Sonic as he gave the whole group a tour of where he had been researching. Despite having been separated for so long, it was impossible to tell with how naturally he talked about his findings. “It looks like the city was built upside down, but what purpose would that serve. If my research is right, then it was actually put here by a Ring Shift.”

    “So, what about the people who lived here?”

    Looking around as Tails led the group across the underside of a bridge, Sonic was not wrong to ask. The castle town itself looked like it could have easily supported quite a large population, however, there was no sign of anyone. Tails was more than glad to share his latest hypothesis though.

    “That’s the thing Sonic, there’s no way they should have tried living here, but it looks like they did and probably moved out on their own when it got to be too much.”

    “How is that possible Tails?” Rosy asked, genuinely curious.

    “You want to find out?”

    “Yeah!”

    “You two aren’t about to cause us a lot of trouble, are you?” Sonic asked, scratching inside his ear.

    “It’ll be fun, I’m sure!” Rosy threw all her faith into Tails. “Tails wouldn’t tease it if it wasn’t.”

    “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Draw asked and received a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mighty.

    “I would say it’s because it’s what those two do. Keeping them out of trouble is as hard as keeping the wind out of a storm.”

    “That’s impossible,” Draw stared at Mighty disbelieving as he replied.

    Mighty’s smile and lone bead of sweat down his cheek did nothing to alleviate his concern, and Gill spoke up to make matters worse.

    “That should give you an idea lad. Last time I accompanied them things just kept getting worse. And I still don’t see how they’ve gotten better.”

    “If you’re so worried about being in danger, you could always leave,” Blister suggested and earned a scowl from Gill.

    Rosy was too distracted to keep the mouse and frog off each other as she took Tails’ offered hand as the fox took off. Flying up towards the deserted city street above, Rosy suddenly felt gravity shift and would have fallen into Tails if he were unprepared.

    “W-O-W~!” Rosy squealed with delight. “This is amazing Tails! But what’s going on?”

    Looking up past the now gravitationally righted Tails, Rosy saw Sonic and the other’s standing on the underside of the bridge above her, and the cloudy sky beyond.

    “It’s some type of anomalous gravity field,” Tails explained. “But it doesn’t affect the entire city equally. And you can tell people tried living here for a while after the shift due to the various twisting roads and bridges throughout the city.”

    “If they were building things–”

    “Then they must have lived here for a while,” Tails finished Rosy’s thought. “But that isn’t the only thing that could have driven them out. Do you remember where the others are standing?”

    “Yeah,” Rosy answered confused and looked back towards Sonic and the others. She missed Tails’ smile and thus was shocked when she turned back forward to see Tails flying straight for a brick wall. “Kya~! Tails watch out! We’re going to crash!”

    ~The crash never came. Ooh~! I’m so mad at Tails for giving me such a scare, even if it turned out to be fun as we flew at the wall but almost crashed into Sonic and the others.

    ~According to Tails, the whole city is full of these weird little ‘dimensional disturbances’. He figures its part of what has been interfering with Ring Radio signals in the lands under Yolk since they transmit across dimensions. It isn’t what he was looking for when he headed out from Radio Point, but it was a great find for him.

    ~I’m so happy for Tails, and I know that he could study this stuff forever, but now that we’ve met back up… Well, it means we have to find Zooey and Fang and get back to working on going home. Though we may need to figure out the Gear Star Ring in my eye first. Hee-hee! It hasn’t replaced my left iris at all since finding Tails, so I nearly forgot about it. Really, seeing Tails again after so long, I nearly forgot about everything.

    ~Reality is such a bully though!~

    “So, that’s your ship Ms. Blister?” Tails asked as they made their way back around the undersides of bridges and roof eaves to where the half avocado shaped airship was effectively moored.

    “It is,” Blister nodded proudly. “It’s my pride and joy! The Avocado Green I call it!”

    “That name is certainly… flavorful,” Tails nervously attempted to be kind about the strange name. Not having the courage to look the mouse who captained it in the eye, Tails looked at the ship and found a topic of conversation to switch to.

    “And it looks like you have quite the crew. I can hardly believe your ship can hold them all.”

    “What are you talking about?” Blister asked and turned her eyes onto her ship. “Oh dear, it looks like I’m being raided actually.”

    “Raided!”

    Tails shout drew everyone’s attention and in no time, they were all aware of the variety of autogolems crawling all over Blister’s vessel.

   It was not Draw’s first time seeing autogolems that looked like they were crafted to resemble the armor of medieval knights, and he knew there was troubling waiting for them and reached for his bow. “Those aren’t yours, right?”

    “No, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wreck my ship. Ms. Rosy has told me about your penchant for explosives.”

    “I guess that’s your cue, Sonic,” Mighty offered Sonic a smile and received a confident smirk in return.

    “Why not. Bashing bots is kind of my thing.”

    “Can I join you!” Rosy clasped her hands together and asked with excited eyes and wagging trail.

    “Sorry kid,” Sonic denied her request and ruffled her bangs. “In this terrain we can only risk Tails having to catch one of us.”

    “Ooh~! Well, you better put on a show then!”

    “Heh,” Sonic laughed and pointed a thumb at himself. “You know you don’t have to worry about that. Just who do you think I am?”

    “Sonic the Hedgehog of course!” Rosy cheered and thrust her balled up hands into the air. Opening her eyes and bringing her arms down, she cheered Sonic on. “Go get them!”

    “No problem!”

    With an instinct that bordered on supernatural, Sonic took off for the airship at a pace none could match. And not because they didn’t have his speed, but no one could use it like Sonic. Surely the auto golems would soon be helpless scrap before the coming streak of blue. Except…

    “Ho!”

    It was the first time any of them were seeing Claymore the Purple in person, and the towering purple autogolem at his full three meters did not disappoint as he stopped Sonic in mid-air.

    “What in the–?” Sonic questioned as a force pressed him tighter into his curled form and kept him rotating.

    “Impressive to see a Ring Mage choose to enter a melee,” Claymore remarked, as his outstretched hand kept Sonic held in a slowly shrinking ring of purple light. “But no matter. I’ve come for the medium. Well, having interrupted your Ring Radio transmission. Ho! How fortuitous I am this day!”

    With a flick of his wrist, Claymore launched Sonic deep into the castle town and turned his glowing purple eyes on Rosy.

    “Ho! Forgive my rudeness Lady Medium. I am Claymore the Purple, Knight of the Order of the Swords. Now be so kind as to come along peacefully.”

Scene 47 · CLEARED Reunion Knight, to be continued

----

I find myself wanting to laugh just like Rosy did at the start of this. Obviously by the end it wasn’t too cheerful anymore, not with Sonic being yeeted off to who knows where. But, Tails is finally here again. It’s actually kind of wild writing with him involved as he really feels like the glue of the AU. His smarts and enthusiasm for his research; it’s just amazing to write really. Hopefully in the future it will be just as easy and he’ll help tie everything together nicely with that Sonic feel I sometimes feel like I’m missing.

Thank for reading everyone! I hope you’ll be back for the next scene!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Blue Skies – Tsutomu Narita – Granblue Fantasy Story Music Tracks

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fan fiction #sonic au #sonic au series #sonic ring bond #the journey #classic amy #amy rose #rosy the rascal #au amy #amy redesign #miles tails prower #mighty the armadillo #sonic oc #mach frog gill bradley #patch #draw the koala #mote the fairy #blister the mouse #claymore the purple