#and how her only friends seem to be interested in her status as one of the smart cookies
Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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yang jungwon fic recs!
★ the language of flowers - @soobnny (jungwon’s just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its owner’s grandson finds solace in you.)
★ GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST - @snowbabys (you heard jungwon isn’t one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and it’s not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.)
★ ❣︎ ⎯⎯ you’re mine . - @goldenhypen
★ infrunami - @jennaissantes (PROMPT: ‘fixing their tie’)
★ LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU - @hanniluvi (BREAKING NEWS! valentine’s is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didn’t think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where you’ll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints you’ve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. there’s no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe it’s just fake or actual love news?)
★ ADMIRING YOU ! - @hanniluvi (You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma café. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?)
★ nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw - @delcakoo (when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…)
★ scaring a guy away - @delcakoo
★ cat boy - @jaeyunverse (yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.)
★ i’m your cat, meow - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (in which jungwon is jealous of a cat)
★ classmate au | yang jungwon - @soobnny
★ Baked with Love - @demusewriter (You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place.)
★ in my head - yjw - @j1nniee (you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.)
★ A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART - @snwpcktz (the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?)
★ ⌗ attractive things jungwon does ⨾ - @aakomii
★ super shy - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (jungwon isn’t used to having company when he’s studying - especially when the company is one of the most popular girls in school)
★ ♡𓂃 START NOW ! - @loveywon (you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in.)
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Another twst oc introduction 🏃♀️
Jaseem
School : Royal Sword Academy
Favourite food: Rice dishes, Shawarma
Pastime: Playing with his pet tiger Rana, Visiting Kalim, Discovering wildlife
Family: Father, Mother, Kalim(Cousin)
Role: Dormhead
Jaseem is a third year at RSA. To most people he may seem like a lone wolf who despises making friendships, but underneath the surface is a gentle boy who longs for freedom.
Being born from a wealthy family with relations to the Asims, Jaseem’s status is nothing new to even the freshmen. Every year groups of students and parents from high status families would flock around him offering their sister/daughters hand in marriage.
Before he was allowed to bring Rana to school (don’t ask me how he did it-) Jaseem had no choice but to either 1. Run as fast as possible or 2. Teleport himself to a safe spot. Now with Rana, a fearsome tiger donning an expensive turquoise silk ribbon, nobody dares to approach Jaseem anymore.
Personality wise, Jaseem is extremely sharp-tongued and will not tolerate a single second on people he deems as childish. He is capable of cooperating with others but would prefer to work alone. Despite the cold exterior, if one can prove that they love tigers as much as he does.. maybe they’d stand a chance to win his attention. And if you can win his trust, Jaseem is probably the most loyal ally/friend you will ever get.
Having attended many arranged marriage meetings, Jaseem is already accustomed to how he must act around the ladies even if he dislikes interacting with them and entertaining their thoughtless comments about his wealth.
He is actually really bad at conveying his feelings, particularly romantic ones. He can no longer grasp the real meaning of love and has trust issues about whether someone is genuinely interested in him. This only numbed Jaseem more over the years hence brushing these feelings aside.
Jaseem has a general disliking towards women due to his past, but he will respect those who deserve it and mean their words. He won’t voice his opinions unless the situation gets on his nerves.
Jaseem’s mother was hospitalised when he was a young child and has been living there for many years, only visiting for a few days when the doctors deem her suitable. Due to schoolwork and other business matters, Jaseem is unable to visit her as much as his father. But he tries to make time for her as he feels most comfortable and at ease when talking to her about his troubles.
His father already told him that he will never marry another woman as he loves his wife very much, this made Jaseem envious as he hopes to be able to find someone he can stand by faithfully someday. While he feels that his father can be rather strict, both father and son have mutual respect for one another as they only want the best for the family.
Backstory
Back when the life wasn’t as complicated, Jaseem was extremely cheerful and lived every day to the fullest with the vast amount of wealth his family possessed.
However when he had reached the age of 10, his life began to fall apart. As the only son, Jaseem was forced to find a future wife sooner or later. From then on he had to attend countless numbers of arranged marriage meetings, parties while attending his father’s business conferences. Jaseem thought he could shoulder this responsibility , but that pressure would just build up later as he grew older.
Arranged marriage meetings were the worst. Jaseem learnt how shallow and sly people could be, faking their entire personality to coddle up to him for the sole purpose of attaining his family’s wealth. “But that’s just the reality of being the only heir isn’t it”, he thought. Jaseem became increasingly saddened over the fact that no one genuinely TRIED to understand his hobbies or know more about him, only throwing empty praises about his home/accessories/looks.
Since young Jaseem has been fascinated with tigers and his mother was the one who encouraged him to take care of one ( much to his father’s reluctance), thus Rana became his new family member. Many of his suitresses cringed at the sight of Rana whom they saw as a dirty, wild animal. Sometimes Jaseem’s father had no choice but to order the guards to take Rana away in order to force Jaseem to follow his schedule , which made him even more depressed.
Eventually, Jaseem had reached his breaking point during one of the parties and wanted to escape his “cage” even bringing Rana with him. It was then he met a young, white haired boy in the greenhouse. Jaseem couldn’t hold back his tears when the boy comforted him, claiming that he can share the same sentiments. It was after they were called to the main event where Jaseem learnt that the boy was no other than Kalim Al Asim, the oldest son and soon-to-be heir of one of the richest families in the world and his cousin.
From that moment onwards, the two spent their childhood days together basking in the sunlight and running around the mansion. They confided in each other, became each other’s source of strength to keep doing their best( this was especially stronger for Jaseem towards Kalim). They drifted a little after entering higher education, but still keep in contact.
For Jaseem, Kalim is the definition of the sun. Had he not met this smiley boy showing off his unique magic and telling him how he must continue to do his best as not only the heir but as an older brother too, Jaseem would have had a different fate and never face his reality. This explains why he hates Jamil to the core after knowing what he had done when he overblotted.
Current lifestyle for Jaseem was no different from his younger days, he still attends arranged marriage meetings (fewer due to school) and gets numerous phonecalls from his father about countries they have to fly to for business conferences. Jaseem became more adept at his dealings with women and can twist meetings to end faster to save his time to do something useful.. like picking a new silk ribbon for Rana. 🐯
Relationships
Kalim
Cousins by blood and childhood best friends. While many students in NRC thinks Kalim is way too carefree, Jaseem would cut in and tell them off as Kalim is not the oblivious rich boy many thinks he is.
He respects Kalim’s motto to be kind to others, lend a helping hand when needed and staying positive despite the challenges life throws at him. Jaseem wishes to protect this precious spirit, praying that Kalim will have nothing but happiness in his life. Jaseem truly looks up to Kalim for being able to smile through everything he’s been through, believing that he wouldn’t even survive a day in that household knowing he might not live to see the next day.
Jaseem can be extremely over protective of Kalim especially when Jamil is around. “I can’t let that damn snake cause any harm to my cousin..”he would think angrily while glaring at Jamil💀
Jamil
If not for the sake of his family image and Kalim Jaseem would have pummeled Jamil to the ground for the things he said and had done to Kalim. While he tries his best to understand Kalim, Jaseem still cannot fathom why he’d want to keep this traitor who doesn’t even consider him a friend by his side.
Unlike his caring and soft self when he is with Kalim, Jaseem treats Jamil like a mere servant and only replies with direct commands. Sometimes he would mock Jamil for the sake of belittling him, but would not stoop as low as to bring his family into it. The atmosphere around these two can be very intense indeed.
If Jaseem learns to see the overblot incident from Jamil’s point of view, perhaps he will come to understand that the two of them aren’t so different after all.
Najma
One of the few girls he respects, Jaseem is like a second older brother to Najma. Of course Najma catches on quick and can tell that Jaseem isn’t exactly fond of her brother, so she has to constantly remind Jaseem to stop frowning whenever he spots Kalim and Jamil together. He tries his best to be nicer to Jamil, but only because Najma wouldn’t stop nagging at him 🤣
Bonus: Rielle
If you’ve seen my old comics about my RSA ocs i often draw Jaseem and Rielle bickering 🤣 Jaseem thinks Rielle is incompetent and has dad issues while Rielle views Jaseem as a weirdo who is way too protective of his cousin, also why would any sane person bring a TIGER to school??
Fun facts about Jaseem’s design
He carries a waist pouch filled with Rana’s treats, various silk ribbons, water dispenser, comb and toys ( just to name a few). The pouch is magically altered to carry many items.
The tiger plush keychain was a gift from his mother when his parents brought him to an amusement park on his birthday. Jaseem did not have the best experience as he was constantly surrounded by guards and journalists, no other children wanted to play with the renowned heir too.
His seemingly blue day turned upside down when he spotted a cute tiger plush in the souvenir shop, thinking about how it looks exactly like Rana. Jaseem’s mother noticed his adoration for the fluffy toy on the top shelf and asked the staff to order one for Jaseem. Even though this silly fabric toy could not compare to the vast amount of gold and expensive gifts Jaseem received, he saw his mother’s gift as something invaluable that money can’t buy.
Till this day he still brings his tiger plush around with him chained to his waist pouch. Though it looks rather dull after being used for years, you can still tell how well washed and cared for it is by its owner.
I struggled trying to incorporate Jasmine’s hairband into the design but for now its a turquoise strand of hair that starts from the top of his head so it looks like a hairband! Its also Jaseem’s way of exploring with his own style knowing that he is far away from his home and strict upbringing. The first time Jaseem dyed his hair he thought “So this is what its like to be rebellious..interesting” 🤣
His earrings are different, the one on the right is a slightly thick gold piece ( OG Jasmine) while the left is a decorative earring with small, dangling chains and a huge jewel ( Live action Jasmine). I thought it would be cool to incorporate both earrings as I couldn’t settle on one.
END
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Jaseem too, I’m really happy with the response for Alison haha 😭 Till next time!
*Also I know someone addressed it before but I mean to express Jaseem’s love towards Kalim as familial, nothing more. How you choose to see my OCs is up to your interpretation so long as you don’t twist my words and stories i wrote for them :)
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law + gossip
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @eelnoise @kaizokuniichan @mirillua @atanukileaf
having been with law for a very long time, it was only natural that you would keep secrets for him; some were serious, and others... not so much, with the silliest of these secrets being that law loves to gossip with you.
he justifies it as a side effect of being the captain—he simply wants to be informed on everything that goes on aboard the polar tang. and his point was defensible, to an extent, until one considers the fact that law knows nearly every single detail about bepo's tiny spats with hakugan as they drive the submarine together, penguin's unfortunate love life, and he could write out a comprehensive timeline of shachi and ikkaku's tumultuous, years long on-again-off-again relationship with his eyes closed. maybe he enjoys the tiny tingles of schadenfreude coursing beneath his skin, or is simply curious about what his friends do when they think no one else is looking, but whatever the reason, it's relaxing to talk his ear off—and you've got an interesting piece of information for him today.
"you busy?" you ask law, as you step into his office, a small smirk on your face as you close his door. he's poring over some messily drawn maps of the region that bepo has cobbled together, but he shakes his head, mumbles out a no, and waves you over, craving some soothing company while he works. flopping down into the armchair across from his desk, you can barely contain your giggles, eager to relay the details of shachi and ikkaku's argument from this afternoon.
"shachi's in trouble again." you inform him. law's head snaps up from the map on his desk to meet your gaze, his full attention resting in the palm of your hand.
"things were going too well. what did he do this time?" law asks, leaning forward and resting his chin on top of his folded hands. a few chuckles escape his lips as you tell him, in colorful detail, how ikkaku had overheard shachi and penguin making some distasteful comments about wanting to catch a glimpse of the women of amazon lily—their argument had started over her accusing him of not respecting women, but snowballed into her criticizing his tendency to let his eyes wander.
"what'd he say to that?" law pries curiously, holding his opinion until you finish relaying the entire story as per usual, though the smirk that creeps across your face tells him that you're about to get to the good part.
"he said—and i quote—'why does it matter who i look at? you're not my girlfriend.'" you say, drinking up every bit of law's incredulous reaction with amusement spread across your face.
law pulls in air through his teeth as he lets out a disappointed sigh; the two of you had been rooting for them to finally get together for real this time, and it had seemed like things were so close to coming to fruition. "tch, he's such an idiot. so we're back to square one then?" he asks, a smidge dismayed.
"for now. you know how it is with them." you reply indifferently; the status of their relationship changed like the phases of the moon, and you knew that the push and pull of the tide would draw them back together at some point.
and, stable as the warm, bright sun rising in the east, you and law would sit back, content to watch them ebb and flow.
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Can you do an Eddie x reader angst where reader is a cheerleader that has a MASSIVE crush on Eddie. She asked him out but because she’s a cheerleader he thinks it a joke and mocks her etc
a/n: hey sweetheartss- thank you so fkn much for all the love on my last Eddie post. This is sorta similar but a different scenario- hope you enjoy <3
warnings: kinda mean!eddie in the beginning obv, reader feeling humiliated, super mega fluffy cute ending!!!!
Nice fucking try - e. m.
—☕️
He was never at any of the games- which fair enough, why would he be?
Yet you couldn’t help the disappointment when you scanned the crowd for a specific mop of curls with no luck. You had practiced the fuck out of this routine and yet no one would probably be looking at you- they’d all look at chrissy instead.
It was like this often. You’d search for Eddie, and when you finally caught him, you’d sit and watch his sporadic movements and tales, admiring him from afar. He had sent a couple of sweet smiles your way; that was your only lifeline to him and you being a possibility. You were a cheerleader after all, and you knew how the basket team treated people like Eddie. You knew he probably thought the same of you but you were aching to prove him otherwise.
You had to do something about the way your heart was on fire for him, a bird beating itself to death in a cage, a moth around a lamppost- you couldn’t keep letting it burn until there was only ashes left.
You knew he had his usual hellfire club meeting today, and suddenly the routine you were doing was the least of your concerns- you even stepped on someone’s toes in the process but it didn’t matter. You were going for it. You were gonna give him the sweetest smile and the most sincere smile and ask Eddie Munson on a date, no matter what any of your friends thought. No matter to what depths your social status would go. You would risk it for him, you were head over heels after all.
After changing quickly while ignoring the annoyed look from your friends ‘cause of your routine slip up, you hurried to the hellfire club room.
Rocking back and forth in your converse, you leaned against a locker while fiddling with the strap of your gym bag. No sooner did the door fling open and several members left the room, mainly ignoring you or giving you a suspicious side-eye, except Mike who waved to you, since you knew Nancy. She was one of the few people who you trusted with your feelings about Eddie. When all had left, you stepped inside to see Eddie packing up from the campaign.
You didn’t say anything, heart suddenly in your throat and palms sweaty. The fabric of his white t-shirt was stretching over his back and he reached over the table, not yet noticing your presence.
“Eddie?” You asked softly, but he still jumped at your voice, a few dices clattering to the ground. The room was ominously lit, casting amber shadows over his pretty face.
“Uh, yes?” He asked slightly confused- suspicion already bleeding from his tone. He picked the dice off of the floor and continued to pack everything away while you stood.
“I uhm- well I don’t know if you know my name-“
“- y/n, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, not seeming particularly interested in what you had to say. You tried not to let it defeat the courage that had etched into your skin, dripping on your tongue.
“Was it a good… campaign?” You asked with a weary voice. You had secretly picked up a little starter guide to the dice game Eddie seemed so passionate about, to try and understand him better.
He scoffed. What kind of fucking foolery was the jocks up to now?
He didn’t even bother replying, knowing that wasn’t the reason you were here, was probably a fucking trick question already. You cheerleaders were like little heathens.
When he didn’t reply you felt your face flush in embarrassment- had you said something wrong?
“Okay well uh- I was wondering if,” you stuttered, fumbled over all your words as you kept fidgeting with your bag. The bird in the cage surely almost done for. The moth was growing tired.
“- if you’d like to do something with me sometime? Like hangout? On- on a date or something like that?” You asked. Your voice was breathy and the words came out a lot faster and unsure than you would’ve liked.
Finally he diverted his attention to you, his figure turning torturously slow, a finger raised in the air in front of him. “You’re asking me out?” He asked incredulously. He didn’t believe they would try such an old trick on him.
“Nice fucking tryyyy Princess,” he said loudly, voice dragging out the words- in case any of your friends were on the other side of the door laughing their asses off.
“What, you’d take me out to a nice dinner, laugh at my jokes and let me take you home to my scrappy little trailer? Is that what you want?” He laughed humourlessly, tongue rolling around his cheek while he stalked towards you.
“I- I mean that sounds fine to me?” You tried, voice more unsteady than ever. You couldn’t tell what was happening but the bird and the moth were lying helplessly in your heart and hot tears tickled the corners of your eyes.
“That sounds fine to you? I’m not falling for this shit, little witch. Run back to your friends, will ya?” He didn’t even spare you another glance as he finished cleaning the table and flung his leather jacket on.
You stood motionless, throat bobbing in an effort not to cry. He hadn’t just rejected you, he had completely misjudged you with no after thought- discarded you because of prejudices. You stormed out of the room with a horrible mix of rage and shame washing over you.
—☕️
“Something sick happened when all you little sheep left hellfire yesterday,” Eddie began as he placed his lunch tray drown dramatically. He glared over to the jocks table, surprised to instead find you sitting alone, sulking.
“What’s up?” Dustin asked curiously, biting into his apple.
“Little miss y/l/n tried to ask me out yesterday. Tried to humiliate me- but this mighty fucking game master didn’t fall for it,” he said almost proudly, digging into his lunch.
“Woah she asked you out? Was that why she was outside hellfire?” Mike said, voice borderline serious in a way that caught both Dustin and Eddies attention.
“Yes, so? Was expecting me to waltz right into that little trap,” he scoffed.
“Y/n asked you out? Dude she likes you! Seriously- I heard Nance and her talking about it a couple weeks ago in the car. She’s like over the moon for you, man.” Mike gestured around wildly to punctuate his words and their meaning.
Eddie stopped eating instantly, whatever was in his hand clattering to the tray as he looked over to your hunched figure again- head down, not eating, not talking.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- please tell me you’re joking kid.” He tried desperately, looking between Mike and Dustin who didn’t waver at all. “Nope. No joke. Can’t stop talking about you I swear.”
Eddie buried his head in his hands.
A pretty, nice cheerleader had asked him out- had a fucking crush on him and he mocked her like that? Scared her away? The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks as he dragged his palms over his face and through his hair, reliving the whole experience yesterday; how nervous you had been, how you asked him about this campaign.
Before his mind could prepare him more, he jumped from his seat and ran through the cafeteria, nearly stumbling and drawing all eyes to him as usual.
You looked up, throat twisting into knots as you saw Eddie sit, literally, on his knees on the floor next to the bench where you sat in your solitude.
“Y/n-“ he said, almost out of breath. His eyes were so big and soft, so pleading and glossy, it touched your heart despite the way he broke it yesterday.
“Y/n I’m so sorry. I thought you were messing with me yesterday. Thought it was some kind of joke from your friends or- I didn’t- I didn’t know you meant it but Mike-“ he breathed again, pausing. Everyone was looking at the two of you, your eyes wide at his hasty, guilty confessions.
“Hey, hey-“ you said, placing a hand on his shoulder “-lets uh- go somewhere else, hm?” You tried, standing from the bench. He swallowed loudly before looking around.
“Yeah, yeah okay,” he breathed. When he looked at you then, he swore there was a gleam of something in your eyes.
It was hope.
You took his warm hand and dragged him out into the hall, ignoring the mocking from where your former friends sat. Where you used to be.
Eddie stuck his tongue out devilishly as you passed them before disappearing into the silent hall with you.
“Hi,” you said then, a soft smile splaying on your lips. It made Eddie’s insides flutter, knowing you were being genuine.
“Hey,” he replied with a huff, a broad grin adorning his features now too.
“I’m sorry-“ he began again but you cut him off quickly; his dramatic cafeteria gesture was enough of an apology to you, and you couldn’t even blame him for thinking like that with you being a part of the cheer squad.
“It’s okay, Eddie. I know I don’t seem like the type, but I promise you I- I think I really like you,” you confessed nervously, eyes darting around the tile floor “and I’m not friends with those dickheads anymore. Swear.”
The bird was beating around the cage, wilder and wilder and the moth dances excitedly around the bright burning lamppost.
“So the offers still- its still on?” He asked hopefully. You couldn’t possibly resist those puppy dog eyes he flashed you, the way his hands fidgeted with the rings adorning his slender fingers.
You nodded eagerly, not daring to believe any of this was really happening. “I’m not much for dinners, though” you added. He laughed. A warm sound you could see yourself getting very used to.
“Me neither. We’ll figure something out, hm?” He asked rhetorically, head tilting to the side to peer down at your hopeful face. Your expression made the guilt from yesterday wash away from his conscience, albeit slowly. God you were gorgeous, and he had half a mind to believe he was dreaming in this moment.
“It’s a date, then.” You stated. Before he could reply, you raised to your tiptoes and kissed his cheek gently.
A furious red blush crept up on his cheek and neck, his lips parted in surprise.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s uh- it’s a date,” he smiled, flustered as he squeezed your hand.
So damn gorgeous, he thought.
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not my car!
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: reader gets angry with spider-man, male masturbation
author’s note: i wasn’t planning on making a valentine’s day post (just because i’m a big hater LOL) but i decided to mix these two together, hope y’all enjoy <3
word count: 4.7k
Valentine's Day.
What was supposed to be a day dedicated towards expressing your love towards your friends and others was a day that you'd be stuck at work. Not the holiday had really made a difference towards you, all of it just seeming like a capitalistic ploy to get people to spend more money just to prove who loves each other the most. Or at least that's what you told yourself at the lack of a Valentine once more this year. While it wasn't out the norm for you to spend it alone, you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the reminder of another year without achieving that relationship status.
But despite the fact that you weren't technically anyone's Valentine, you'd still managed to get a date for tonight. You'd joined a dating app in hopes to find a date before tonight months ago, without actually having much luck until a couple days ago. All the men that you'd swiped on were either interested in something completely different from what you were looking for or they were just complete assholes. You'd been talking to a moderately good looking guy with biceps that looked like they could choke you for a while, the two of you making plans to go out tonight before he got caught up in work again. Despite the fact that he was more sarcastic with his sense of humor, you couldn't help but enjoy every joke exchanged and every conversation you two held.
You'd gotten so caught up in the thought of how the date would go tonight, already planning out what outfit you'd be wearing and what type of makeup you'd like to try that you hadn't realized you were starting to run late for work. You quickly finished with getting dressed, making sure to button up your shirt correctly before making your way out of your apartment. "Buenos dias, mija," your elderly neighbor called out, sweeping the floor outside. (good morning) "Buenos dias, señora," you responded back, giving her a small wave once you finished locking up your door. While you usually made it a point to try and have conversation with her, you were already in a rush to get to work on time.
"Come on, baby. Don't fail me now," you pleaded with your car, turning the key on the ignition only to receive a mocking sputter in n response. You took the key out, counting in your head up to three seconds before sticking it back in. You'd gotten used to these little kinks and tricks in the car, learning to adapt quickly to its ways to save yourself some money. Whether it be smacking the dashboard to get it to turn on or simply taking the key out, you were determined on riding the car until it's last minute. You assured yourself that your car was still fine despite the noises that it made while it was driving, almost like every piece of metal inside of it was loose.
And while the car wasn't much, it was one of the few things that you'd be able to claim that belonged to you after you finished paying it off. Your wage had made it difficult to manage living alone with an apartment but it was achievable if you cut back on the amount of expenses that you had. You were simply surviving up at this point, making sure that you weren't spending more than the basic necessities to stay alive so you'd have enough money to be just above the debt line. But while everything else in your life was rented, the car was the one thing that you could be able to claim as your own. Well, after you finished paying it off at the end at the year.
You let out a small groan as you saw that someone else had taken your undesignated designated parking spot. While the parking spots didn't belong to anyone particularly, everyone seemed to have a silent understanding not to infringe on other's spots. You looked around to see if a spot was available before reluctantly pulling out of the workers' parking lot, deciding to just park it out on the street for the day. You opted to park in the back so you wouldn't have to walk the distance, unable to go in through the front door. You went through the motions of clocking in, washing your hands and sanitizing them before making your way over to the counter.
"What can I get for you?" Your voice came out tired as you spoke, the only thought on your mind being what time you would get out of work. "Some service with a smile would be nice," the person retorted, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. You definitely didn't get paid enough for this shit. You repeated the same question back to them, forcing an unnatural smile to make its way to your face as you waited for their response. "I'll just get a small diet coke," they finally responded, inserting their card into the chip reader. You had half the mind to throw the empty cup at their head for making a big deal out of your customer service for what they'd ordered.
You resisted the urge to test out how good your aim was, opting instead to keep your job for a bit longer. You slid over the cup once you were done filling it up, going back to the register to take any other orders. It was slow, only a couple stragglers making their way inside to get a light breakfast before their shift at work. While Nueva York was known as one of the more dangerous cities to live in with all the villains crawling on the streets, the area of the city that you lived in was moderately calm. Only a few robberies here and there, one or two gang-related homicides. To say that you were used to these slow mornings was an understatement, getting used to seeing tourists' disappointment when this part of the city doesn't meet their level of excitement.
You headed out for a break outside of the restaurant, unable to stand the smell of grease lingering onto the kitchen. You weren't able to escape the smell much though, the stench clinging onto your clothes like it wanted to remind you of your place. You let out a small groan upon catching another whiff, taking your phone out to check the forecast and a couple of the news just to see if you'd be able to go on your date tonight. It was then when you saw a reporter broadcasting from the building across the restaurant, a man on a hover board playing with a couple bombs like he was juggling at the circus. You felt the impact before you saw it on your screen, the screams making themselves known in the chaos.
You headed over to where the news reporter had been standing just a couple seconds ago, a small crowd already gathered around to get a glimpse of the Green Goblin. The way they spectated around it made it seem like they were expecting for a celebrity to show up, the crowd bursting out into cheers after Spider-Man's red webs came into view. "Get him Spidey!" You heard in the background, the people breaking out into cheers of his name while he made his way over to the Green Goblin. You weren't sure how it was that these people managed to like him one day and dislike him the next, choosing instead to stay quiet and just watch the event unfold.
You looked over at Spider-Man as he dropped down to the floor, a brutal punch from the Goblin sending him rolling on the floor. He seemed to be looking around at the cars parked outside, almost like he was picking one out of a magazine offer to throw at him. 'Not my car, not my car,' was the only thought running through your head like a mantra, watching as Spider-Man approached the vehicles to take his pick for the Green Goblin. You knew that it was selfish, but you figured that the BMW parked next to your car could definitely afford to get it fixed if they were driving that around in these areas of Nueva York.
You let out a small whine as you saw him pick up your car with ease, swinging up to get some leverage on the villain before throwing it full speed ahead at him. All you could do was stare as your car flew in mid air, the people in the crowd only seeming to cheer even louder at how chaotic the fight was starting to become. The ringing in your ears got louder, every part of it blocking out except for the fact that you'd soon be without a car once it made its way back to the ground. The Green Goblin managed to get out of the way before your car hit him, the vehicle hitting the window of the building before slowly starting to make its descent. The shocking asshole didn't even make the shot.
"Can't help but feel bad for the poor loser that owns that car," you heard behind you, a couple of the people standing around making commentary like it was the hottest sports event they'd been to. "Think he's doing them a favor, can you imagine driving a piece of junk like that?" You heard another retort, your annoyance towards the situation growing even further. You glared over at the two of them, though the expression was ignored since their attention was solely locked on the maniac hovering amock on top of the building. You knew that it should be him that your anger is directed towards, but you couldn't help but be angry at Spider-Man for using your car without a care in the world. The way that he handled your property knowing that he couldn't get prosecuted for it just served to anger you even further.
For shock's sake. All you could do is stand there with your mouth agape as your car crashed down to the concrete, a wheel rolling off to the side. You weren't sure if you wanted to burst out into tears or if you wanted to start yelling at the mask-wearing asshole for not even making the shot. You looked over at your car, trying to convince yourself that the damage wasn't that bad. Well.. it might take a couple weeks of overtime but you were sure you could handle it. That was until a large piece of rubble from the building fell onto your car. You were dumbfounded, all you could do was simply blink as your car got crushed into mere metal. And if all the hope that was inside of you hadn't diminished yet, the engine burst out into flames a couple seconds afterwards.
Now you could definitely understand all the slander that J. Jonah Jameson had written about him. Shock, you were thinking of joining the Daily Bugle just to write your own article about him. The fact that your car was basically useless at this point and that you'd still have to continue paying for it kept ringing through your mind, every single outside noise making itself unknown as you looked at the pieces of metal sticking out from underneath the rubble. You were even thinking of getting an oil change soon. Well, not soon. But as soon as you managed to get a bit of disposable money. All the modifications that you'd planned for your car seemed pointless now, the one thing that you would be able to have in your name now destroyed.
The crowd burst out into cheers while you were still in the middle of seething to yourself, your mind calling Spider-Man a flurry of curses as you wrapped your mind around the fact that your car was destroyed. It didn't help that Spider-Man seemed so proud of getting back at the Goblin, stopping by the crowd and taking some pictures. The people immediately rushed over to his side, their phones out as their cameras flashed to try to snap a picture of the elusive hero. You stood off to the side, your arms folded as you waited to give him a piece of your mind. You were determined on getting some form of compensation after he'd fucked up your car, holding him responsible.
"Sorry, did you want a picture? We'll need to make this quick," Spider-Man spoke up when he saw you standing by the side, his large figure seeming more intimating as he stood in front of you. "No, what I want is my goddamn car back! It wasn't a damn ball for you to use! And you didn't even hit him with it!" Your voice came out frantic, more jumpy than you would've liked for it to be. You wanted your voice to portray the anger that you felt, but all you could feel is fear. Fear that you wouldn't have anything to navigate around the city with. "Oh. so you see.. I'm actually protected from anything involving public property. Lo siento," his voice didn't carry any sense of apology as he spoke, infuriating you even further.
"What the shock am i supposed to do with 'lo siento?!' And it wasn't public property, it was my private property!" You continued scolding at him, the annoyance that you felt starting to peek through the fear. "Is it really private property if you haven't finished paying it off yet?" He retorted, leaving you without an argument. He swung away before you had the chance to continue yelling at him, his red webs flashing across the buildings before disappearing completely. You couldn't help but stomp your foot in the ground, getting your phone out to call your insurance company to see what you could figure out about this situation.
"So, according to our system, you ended up getting our cheapest insurance option and unfortunately that means that your plan doesn't cover these types of damages. Your plan only covers Avengers-level threat and well.. the Green Goblin doesn't really qualify as one of those," the woman on the other line spoke up after clicking a few buttons on her computer, a groan threatening to make its way up your throat. She sounded sympathetic enough to the point where you didn't want to start complaining, but you couldn't help the hint of desperation that crawled up your voice when speaking.
"So is there anything else that I can do?" You asked her, your foot anxiously tapping on the sidewalk below you. "Hold on, let me connect you to someone else," she responded, the tapping on the other end resuming. “I don't want to speak to another rep-" your words got cut off by an elevator jingle, a couple advertisings being made here and there. What was supposed to be a calming waiting experience only served to stress you out further, your foot seeming to be tapping against the floor at a hundred miles an hour. Your eyes flickered around the mess, waiting for the elevator jingle to fade into good news.
"There's actually nothing that we can do in this situation," another voice came through the line after what seemed to be an eternity of waiting. "And you had to keep me on hold for the last five minutes just to say that?" You responded, starting to feel more tired than annoyed at the situation by this point. "Sorry about that. remember that your car payment's on the fifth of next month," the voice reminded you of your impending debt, a loud click sounding before the line ended. You made your way back into the restaurant, forcing a smile on your face as you took orders despite the fact that you wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry. Or yell. Whatever would help you feel better.
"Jess, can you come into my office for a second? It's a matter of life or death," Miguel spoke into his gizmo, waiting for a confirmation before he turned it off. Jessica appeared into his office in a couple seconds, her eyes widened in alert as she looked around for what was the life or death urgent matter. "So, walk with me through a hypothetical. Imagine you're broke and Spider-Man destroys your car. and you have a date with Spider-Man's alter ego. Except you don't know that it's Spider-Man until he decides to show you. How would you feel after that revelation?" Miguel asked her after the platform made its way down, Jessica’s face morphing into annoyance almost immediately.
"This isn't a matter of life or death first of all. Second of all, think I'd just drop kick you after the revelation. Did you even manage to land the car or not?" Jessica responded, making Miguel let out an annoyed huff as he ran through the possibilities in his mind. Though he'd had the same idea that she had, he didn't enjoy having them confirmed by someone else. "No," he admitted, glaring over at her when she started to laugh. "Good luck with that," she advised him, leaving the room to let him be with his own thoughts. He was more than certain he would need more than luck for this to work out in his favor.
He pulled up the tab for the dating app that Peter had signed him up, scrolling through your pictures like he wanted just the slightest sign that you weren't the same person. The more and more that he looked at the photos, the more that he tried to convince himself that something was off. Maybe that the angles didn't match up, that he believed he saw a beauty mark on the picture without having seen it on you today. But no matter how hard he tried, he knew that deep down, he'd destroyed his date's car. Even if he could get himself to disregard the fact for the date tonight, he knew that it would be haunting him later on. He felt the need to be completely honest with you in the ways that he could, wanting to show you every single part of him. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
While he'd been reluctant to actually giving in and trying out the app given the fact that he didn't have that much time to put into a relationship, he almost thought of himself as lucky for stumbling onto your profile. The conversations between the two of you was something that he looked forward to when he woke up in the morning and when he went to sleep at night. You were easy to talk to, someone that understood his dry sense of humor without taking offense to it. You'd even offered him some solutions to the problems he had going on despite not having much knowledge about the topic of hand, making sure that he'd put his well-being above anything else. He'd grown to care about you more than he initially anticipated for.
He'd never admit to it if you asked, but he found himself looking back at the nude photos that you'd exchanged with him. The way that your body sprawled out on your bedsheets, your lingerie clinging tightly onto your curves like it was begging for him to take it off. The teasing smile on your face as you looked up at the camera, making all the thoughts in his head disappear. All that had been running through his head upon seeing those photos was what he wanted to do you, his lips tracing every inch of your body as he worshipped you the way that you deserved to be. If he would have it his way, he'd make sure no inch of your body was left untouched by his lips.
He'd spent many nights with his hand tightly fisted around his cock, wishing that you'd be in the same room with him making him feel that level of pleasure. The sounds that you let out in the video you'd sent him were heavenly, a sensation coursing through him that he wouldn't be able to achieve even with the best produced porn video. It filled him with a sense of pride that it was him making you feel so needy, the small whimpers of his name making every nerve in his body short circuit. He knew that his hand wouldn't be able to compare to the way that you felt, the way that it would feel slipping inside of you for the first time. Your walls clenching tightly around his cock as you welcomed the intrusion, his pace gentle as he eased you into it.
He'd ignore the voices outside of his office just to get off to the thought of you, his fangs digging into his lower lip as he tried to muffle every sound that was eliciting from deep down. A quiet 'shock' here and there escaped from his lips, nothing that would alert any of the other members in the Society. The grip around his cock would tighten, like he was trying to do justice to the way that your pussy would tighten around him. His reddened tip kept leaking out precum, lathering his hand with every stroke that he gave himself. You'd become the object of every fantasy that he had, his work starting to get sloppy from the way that you'd been clouding his mind for days now.
Ropes of cum shot up to his stomach, a temporary relieve of the desire that had been brewing inside him. It was only a fleeting moment, before his thoughts returned back to you. It was a constant cycle of desire brewing morphing into a couple seconds of fleeting satisfaction, a burning inferno inside of him begging to be tamed with your fingers. To have your nails raking down his back, to seize every little gasp that you'd let out and every expression that would you make in the moment. He felt frustrated, at himself mostly. For letting himself get so pent up to the point where even the thought of you was a desire he couldn't fan down, of letting himself get so needy just for your touch.
To say that he was looking forward to the date with you was an understatement, having bought a new button down to prepare for it. He'd planned on taking the day early, taking the time to make sure he was well prepared for the date and going to buy you some flowers before he had to be at the restaurant. Every hope that he'd had towards the date quickly faded away, reminding him of what could've been. He almost wanted to kick himself for not picking the BMW parked next to your car. He hesitantly clicked on the 'block' button, though deep inside, he knew that you deserved more than just getting ghosted without any reason.
You ended up getting home later than you expected, getting lost in the subway system a couple of times before you managed to find your way. The date that you'd been looking forward to no longer seemed that exciting with all the events that had gone down tonight, and even if you were excited, you doubted you would be able to make it on time. You took out your phone to text Miguel that you wouldn't be able to make it, the text bubble turning green after you sent it. You wanted to lie to yourself and say that he didn't have any service, make any excuse for what you already knew deep down. A part of you didn't want to believe that you'd been ghosted, the conversations that the two of you shared almost seeming like out of a fairytale.
You tried sending him another message at a later time, only to find out that it met the same fate as your previous text. You slowly came to accept the situation for what it was, accepting the fact that you'd just been discarded like a toy. Though you weren't a stranger to getting ghosted on dating apps, this time, it seemed to sting more than the previous times. Maybe it was because you truly believed that it would go somewhere this time, that the two of you had formed a connection. You'd had the hope that he'd be the one you'd share those corny couple moments with, be the one who you'd go on dates with and have intimate moments with.
You ended up calling it a night early, all the lights in your apartment turned off as you snuggled with your fluffy blanket. You had a corny romance movie playing on the screen to get your mind off your current dilemma, to give you the chance to critique someone else's problems rather than dealing with your own. You'd bought a box of chocolates for yourself since they were a pretty decent price and it allowed you to indulge in the same things other people had on Valentine's Day, sticking them into your mouth as you watched the movie. You were doing everything in your power to avoid looking at your phone, to look through the messages you'd shared with Miguel just to have a reminder of what you could've had and of the texts that you'd romanticized so much in your head.
"Oh for fuck's sake, just say you love her," you muttered at the tv screen, rubbing your temples at just how overdramatized the whole plot was. Even after a while, the whole idea of making fun of fictional characters' problems lost its appeal. You turned off your tv, darkness enveloping your room instantly. You got up and cleaned up after yourself, making sure you hadn't left any chocolate remnants on your bedsheets or fingers. Despite having eaten half the box of chocolates, sleep washed over you with ease once you laid down. The grip that you had around one of your teddy bears was unrelenting as you slept, seeking out for some kind of comfort. Just having something there that would let you know it would be okay.
With all the hectics that happened last night, you'd forgotten to set your alarm early to make it to the subway on time. Despite the fact that you were basically working for minimum wage, your boss ordered you around like your service was what kept the restaurant running afloat. You got up from your bed after a couple minutes, already running the different excuses that you'd use. You figured that he wouldn't be exactly receptive to 'Spider-Man destroyed my only mode of transportation.' Your actions were slower than normal this morning, your fingers nimble as you buttoned up your shirt. The task had taken unnecessarily long, your mind constantly blanking out and forgetting about the task at hand.
You glanced over at the parking spot that your car used to occupy to notice a new suv parked in the spot, a red bow on top of it with a paper attached to the back of it. Your curiosity got the better of you, wondering who'd been so bold to park their car in your spot merely a day after it was unoccupied. You picked up the note, your eyes widening after you'd finished reading it.
'Sorry I messed up your car yesterday. I hope this makes up for it.
P.S. The keys are in your mailbox
P.P.S. Don’t worry about paying off your other car
- Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man'
You wanted to stay mad at the webbed asshole for treating your car as his personal play-toy but you couldn't deny the fact that this car was much nicer than the one you used to drive. It was nice enough where it would get you from one place to another with minimal bumps but not flashy enough that it'd get broken into. You folded the note and set it in your pocket, heading over to your mail room to get the keys. Sure enough, the keys to the car laid inside on top of the mail that you'd forgotten to get. You picked up the keys after a couple seconds, walking back over to your new car to get going to work.
—
tag list: @nixinluv02 @yournextbimbogf @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nympholove @pxtched @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow
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Do you really think all of ML's problems would be fixed if Adrien never existed?
Good heavens, no.
Adrien isn't the problem. He's just a symptom of a much larger issue. That issue being laziness and poor writing that comes in the form of "tell, don't show", plot threads that go nowhere, and lack of character development or plot progression that leads to a setup of "Status Quo Is God". Removing Adrien wouldn't fix all of that. Heck, it wouldn't fix any of that.
I can't fault the writers for replacing Felix with Adrien. Even if I and others could write out a plot with Felix, that's not to say everyone could or that the writers could. It could very well be that Felix as he was in the PV simply didn't work for the setup they had in mind.
...the issue here is that the setup they had in mind seems to require stagnancy. Where Hawk Moth attacks without winning and the heroes fight off the akumas without really trying to track him as the source and the two leads chase each other around in circles without anyone making any headway in either of these battles. Marinette wants to date Adrien. Chat wants to date Ladybug. It's why all her plans to ask him out fail while his attempts to express his feelings aren't taken seriously. And there is no forward movement, whether in their arc or in the fight against Hawk Moth. There wasn't even build or lead up to the two falling in love. They just started out episode one with crushes on each other and remained having crushes on each other until arguably season 5.
But no good story is stagnant. In this setup, characters need to do things and there needs to be a feeling of forward momentum.
Break it down this way: What is Adrien's problem? What is his goal? What is the obstacle to his goal?
Yes, we could say Adrien's dad being a supervillain and a neglectful jerk is Adrien's main problem, but it's not the problem Adrien is actually focused on in the show. Instead, if we could say Adrien has a problem, it would be that he wants to date Ladybug. And his goal is to date Ladybug. And the source of the problem and obstacle to his goal is...Ladybug.
So his problem, his goal, and the obstacle are all the same thing. This ultimately seems to make his problems Ladybug’s fault then because the problem would be solved if she gives in to his wants rather than by any real effort on his part.
Adrien as he is in the show doesn't do anything. And he doesn't need to do anything because he is at his base a character that things are done for. He doesn't have a goal or direction or drive. He just comes out to deal with akumas as needed, flirt with Ladybug when he can, and then be sad because his life is so hard when he doesn't get what he wants. We don't see him doing anything else. We don't see him making friends. We don't see him engaging in school. We don't even really see how he interacts with the classmates he only recently met. Things happen around him, but he is not a driving force in anything in the show.
But Felix in the PV is a very driving character. He had a problem: he's cursed. What does he need to break the curse? A kiss from Ladybug. What are the obstacles to his goal: Ladybug refusing to kiss him and Hawk Moth trying to kill her. How does he get that kiss? By flirting with her and trying to earn her affections while protecting her and making sure she doesn't DIE against an akuma before he gets that special curse-breaking kiss.
It's the start of Felix's journey. His goal and the various obstacles to that goal that make his story interesting and his growth possible. As such, I see him as a character who would progress in his attempts to obtain his goal as well as one who would progress the storyline...which is also accurate of 3D Felix since that's kind of what he's done more in his relatively few appearances than the series has in 5 seasons.
Adrien didn't have to have Felix's personality. He didn't have to have the same goals or level of drive. But he could still have had things where he grows and helps to push the plot forward.
Adrien...
...just started school. He has no friends, knows no one, and is trying to learn the ins and outs of public education. How is he doing in the different setting with teachers instead of tutors? How is he trying to get along with his classmates? Does he experience bullying? Does anyone NOT like him? What is he going through as a new student who had been homeschooled all his life?
...is friends with Chloe. What's it like learning his "only friend" is a bully? How do people respond to this? Does anyone (besides Marinette) fear him or avoid him because if he's friends with Chloe, he must be just like her?
...is a superhero. He could have been spending time learning the history of the ring and trying to develop his powers. Trying to get stronger? Trying to get to know Plagg? What is he experiencing as a highly known model who is also a superhero and having to juggle those dual identities?
...has a dead mom who died of a "mysterious illness". Given that this loss supposedly occurred about a year prior, he could still be mourning her. Maybe trying to learn what happened to her.
...has a neglectful father. How is he trying to interact with his dad? How does he feel about his dad not being around? What is he doing to try to resolve this?
...has a supervillain father. Like, I cannot stress this enough! His dad is a SUPERVILLAIN! His dad is THE SUPERVILLAIN THEY ARE FIGHTING! People were predicting him finding out and joining Gabriel to try and revive his mom! People were living for the eventual heartbreak of when Adrien finds out the truth! Entire AUs, fan arts, and fanfics were born of this very idea! Going into the drama and struggle Adrien would be experiencing being caught between the "right thing" and the girl he loves and his duty vs his father and his mother and his family. HOW CAN THEY JUST IGNORE THIS?!
But we don't get any of that. Instead, we get Adrien...
...just acclimated with no issues in school and automatically friends with everyone. Good for him, I guess. Wish it was that easy for the rest of us.
...doing little besides occasional comments to Chloe as she is completely horrible for five seasons including Chloe stealing from classmates, getting the entire school punished for something she did, stealing a Miraculous, trying to crash a train, and betraying the city to Hawk Moth. But it takes him learning about something she did to Marinette a year ago for him to finally decide enough is enough and drop her as a friend.
...only goes out to deal with akumas as they come but does nothing to try and figure out his powers and history, get stronger, or try to track Hawk Moth.
...just moves on from dead mom. No relevance here aside from wanting to see a movie she was in or making a passing comment about how she got sick. No attempt to find out what happened to her. No questioning what she may have wanted for him.
...is just sad about his neglectful father neglecting him but seems to get over it rather quickly.
...never learns his father is a supervillain. Okay, I take it back. He learns twice and those timelines are erased with no real repercussions other than trauma for Marinette, so it really doesn't feel like they count. The pieces are all there, though! He knows his dad has the grimoire but never questions him about it! Never asks his dad what the deal was with Tibet! No question about how mom died or what is going on with Nathalie or what he's doing with a hidden mechanism in mom's portrait.
Adrien has potential. He has plot threads and aspects that could be used and goals he could have. But the writing does nothing with him, so while he has a number of things he COULD do to move forward and progress as a character or for the plot, nothing comes of it.
And that all boils down to a problem with the writing.
Adrien was chosen over Felix as an "easier" option to keep the story at a standstill so they could drag it out for as long as needed. That doesn't mean it should have been. There were so many paths that could have been taken, but Adrien was given the personality of a wet noodle, so he acts on none of them because that was what the writers wanted out of his character.
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Hi! I wish you further growth and inspiration!
My choice is pussy eating and sex toys.
Good luck! 💦💦💦
Fever
— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
— SUMMARY: You love going out and having dinner with Patrick, but not when his friends come along, they always make you feel so uncomfortable and insecure. Good thing he has his own ways of reassuring you, right?
— CONTAINS: Smut, established relationship, sex toys, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), Daddy kink, Praise kink, Degradation kink, pet names, a lot of cum, nipple play, choking, biting, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, dirty talk, Patrick being a manipulative dickhead.
— WORDS: 3.2k
— SONG REC: Babydoll x the Perfect Girl
— A/N: This day finally came, and I finished my first writing challenge, which I started to celebrate my 200 followers! Thank you so much, guys, for standing by my side. I love you and I hope you like it!🖤
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [BWC MASTERLIST] [support]💗
Dorsia, just the mention of the name of that establishment was enough to make Batman frown and clench his jaw in annoyance. Nonetheless, that was the exact place you and him wanted to spend that evening, and when you finally took your seats at the best table in Dorsia, Patrick's face was like a wax statue, it was impossible to read any of his emotions.
Tim, Craig, David and their bimbos couldn’t stop rumbling even for one second and that actually annoyed Bateman, but on the other hand he used it as an opportunity to whisper filthy things right into your ear, taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention due to the ruckus.
“Did my good girl do her homework while I was away?” He nuzzled against your neck, and you fidgeted on your chair uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed. “I can’t wait until we get alone.”
“I bet you do.” You reply shortly, without breaking eye contact with him.
Pleased, Patrick leaned on the chair back, his sly smile speaking for itself. Sneakily, he placed his palm on your knee to play with the hem of your cocktail dress, only to tease you and induce you to try closing your legs. With a muffled gasp, you caught his dexterous hand just at the moment everyone looked at both of you.
"So, Bateman. How was your business trip?" Craig asked with a cheeky grin. "Did you enjoy LA? I hear the chicks there are pretty hot."
The men started laughing together as if they shared the same brain cell, and you used that moment to brush Patrick's palm away, which actually made him a little upset, so he paused and coughed a little.
"McDermott, you can go to LA and see everything with your own eyes!" Patrick scoffed and took a sip of his drink. "I don't want to give any spoilers."
Sighing, you pulled yourself together as you repeated to yourself over and over again that you wouldn't let their childish behavior get under your skin. The girls — models, supposedly — looked at each other in frustration, but neither Bateman nor his colleagues seemed to care.
"God, Bateman! Now I'm intrigued!" McDermott chuckled before lighting his cigarette.
With a mischievous smirk, Patrick hugged your shoulders when he saw a glimpse of sadness in your beautiful, big eyes, and you couldn't help but smile timidly at David's comment:
"Look at them, just two lovebirds."
"Oh, shut up," Bateman blurted out jokingly. "Being jealous isn't a good thing."
Van Patten rolled his eyes at Patrick's remark, but immediately lost interest when the girl next to him leaned down to his neck and whispered something.
"Patrick?" You called his name so softly that it elicited a muffled gasp from his broad chest.
"Yes, dear?" He replied, looking at you lovingly and moving even closer so that you could whisper in his ear.
"When are we going home?"
"Do you want to go?" He 'accidentally' touched your cheek with his perfectly shaped nose, making your heart skip a beat.
"No, I was just asking."
"It's not a problem, honey." Bateman leaned even closer to kiss the area behind your ear. "Besides. I'm starving."
"But we just ate." You almost squealed when he discreetly pinched your thigh under the table, his dark grin sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him.
“You know what I mean, babydoll.” He crooned in a low voice, not giving a fuck about how attentively his coworkers were looking at both of you.
“I–” You wanted to talk back to him, but he suddenly cut you off, standing up and removing the napkin from his knees.
“Gentlemen, sorry, but we have to go.”
“So soon? What happened, Bateman?” Craig tried to sound sassy, but when he didn’t get any attention, his face went plain.
“Don’t worry, McDermott. We will get back to our conversation one day.” Patrick winked at him and offered you a hand, expecting you to take it. When you did, he pressed a brief kiss on the back of your hand.
Tim whistled at the sight and you ignored him, but you couldn't stop Patrick from shamelessly grabbing your ass as you two were leaving.
“Have fun, Bateman. But don’t make your neighbors call the cops.” Bryce added, making everyone laugh. Frowning, you looked at Patrick, expecting him to say something that would calm his coworkers down.
“I’ll call them if you don’t return those porn videotapes I gave you last week.” Bateman crooned with a cheeky smile and after that, he led you to the exit, so you could only catch a glimpse of Timothy’s blank face before you eventually left Dorsia.
In the taxi you both remained silent. You couldn't help but feel a little offended by the way his colleagues behaved, and the thing you hated the most was that you knew that if you told Patrick about it, he would just shrug it off and say that there was nothing special about it.
"Honey?" Bateman suddenly interrupted your train of thoughts with his playful voice, as if he could read your mind. Sometimes it was even scary how perfectly he could sense your mood.
"You have terrible friends, you know that?" You replied, disregarding his flirtatious tone.
With a cocky chuckle, he wrapped his hand around your shoulder when he saw you crossing your arms defensively over your chest.
"Well, I know they're not the greatest people..." He paused, wondering what to say to cheer you up.
"And I don't like it when you treat me like I'm one of those stupid bimbos," you finally turned to him and pushed his hand away harshly. "How many times do I have to explain this to you and—"
His tight grip on your throat made you choke for air, and you nearly shrieked at his unexpected roughness.
"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, little girl." Patrick growled into your ear, and you thanked God that the partition in the taxi was closed. "How many times have I told you I don't like this kind of attitude?"
Closing your eyes, you whimpered from lack of oxygen and tried to say something, but he didn't even give you the chance to do it as he covered your mouth with his greedy one. Bateman reveled in all your muffled, pitiful sounds, kissing you hard while his other hand slipped under your dress to possessively get a handful of your soaked pussy. Damn it! Instead of being scared, you were so fucking aroused and that only made the whole situation worse, because after Patrick let go of you, he sneered in the most arrogant way and brought his long fingers, coated in your flavor, to his lips to taste it.
"Don't ever compare yourself to those bitches," he reminded you, fixing the hem of your dress and gently stroking your leg; his face softened as he let out a disappointed sigh. "After all, I missed you so much, (y/n). And I thought you missed me, too."
"I missed you, I really did!" You panicked a little. Patrick was such a master of manipulation, a few moments ago you had accused him and his friends of having bad manners, and now you felt guilty about making that scene.
"So why did we have this shitty conversation about my colleagues and their whores instead of talking about us?" Patrick replied in a challenging tone, his big palm was still on your knee, but this time you didn't dare to brush it away.
"Because it makes me sad!" You blurted out and looked at him, now staring at the scenery through the taxi window.
"Fine, I won't take you to dinners like these anymore." His annoyed voice echoed in your ears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking at his comment. You lowered your head down and cried, barely audible, but somehow Bateman immediately noticed.
"Are you crying, (y/n)? Seriously?"
"Patrick, maybe I should go home? I don't feel well and I don't want to disappoint you with—"
"Enough of this bullshit, okay?" He suddenly pressed you against his chest, letting you hug him around his waist. "I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever."
Where was your good mood and that sparkle that set your body on fire when you were in the restaurant? God, you hated yourself for acting like that, but his friends — those stupid yuppies — always made you sick to the stomach, but this time you really had lost your patience. And even though you calmed down now and hid your face in the crook of Patrick's neck, the tension between the two of you was still in the air, and you didn't really know what to expect when you arrived at his place.
After almost an hour, you were sitting on his big bed, completely naked and still shivering — you could still feel his touch on your most sensitive spots as Bateman had just washed you in the bathtub, rubbing and massaging you everywhere.
When you heard a soft click of the bedroom door, you raised your eyes to see him coming in, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, his red tie loosened and some of the top buttons undone.
"How do you feel, babydoll?" Patrick asked you teasingly, shaking the glass in his hand and leaning against the door.
You swallowed hard when his super dark eyes glided over your exposed curves, and you had to hold back your rapid breathing, because you were so damn excited. " Much better, thank you."
Bateman let out a low chuckle before placing his drink on the shelf and coming a little closer to you, puffing on his cigar.
"Good," he smiled and blew a few rings of smoke. "Now show Daddy how you learned to use my gift."
His words forced the blood in your veins to curse faster, making your skin burn from the inside out. With a loud gasp, you lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows and spreading your legs wide, so he could see your succulent pussy.
As soon as you did so, Bateman clenched his chiseled jaw and almost bit down on the cigar, but he kept watching your little hand slide between your thighs, and when it reached your soaped slit, he couldn't help but growl — he'd been rock hard all this time, but now it was getting really painful.
"P-Patrick, I'm scared..." you whimpered abruptly, taking the pink silicone dildo — the one that has been laying beside you on the bed — and rubbing it along your taut lower lips to lubricate it. "It's so embarrassing."
"Oh, I know, honey. I know," he purred in his usual seductive voice, and unbuttoned his blue shirt. "But you don't have to be embarrassed. Trust me, baby, Daddy knows what's best for you."
Damn, that was too much.
Gulping and closing your eyes, you threw your head back and tried to let it go, placing the dildo at your dripping entrance, and the next second you cried out from the feeling of fullness as you pushed it deep into your womb.
"Such a good girl."
"D-Daddy!" You let out a high-pitched wail, focusing on his raspy voice as you were too embarrassed to open your eyes.
"Go on," Bateman exhaled sharply, putting the cigar in the ashtray, and then he unzipped his pants, his hot flesh literally pulsating. "You make Daddy so proud."
"Mhhm," his words made you arch your back, and you began to pump yourself with the sex toy, sensing a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen. "Pat-Patrick, please… talk to me!"
He didn't answer at first as he continued to undress, slowly stroking his engorged cock. "Ahhh, this is so fucking sweet," Patrick grunted, smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip. "Can't do anything without my guidance, am I right, my babydoll?"
"Awww—yes," you gasped, your legs already shaking. "N-need you, Daddy! Need you so much…!"
At that moment, you didn't care about anything in the world, just the buzzing feeling in your core. There was only one person who could give you that vital release you needed so desperately, and you were more than ready to beg him if he asked you to.
"You know what," Bateman murmured as he finally undressed and joined you on the bed, and when you felt his big palm on your hip, you thought you were going to combust, but he gently stroked your cheek, soothing you a little, whispering: "Shh, my little one. Not yet."
You literally writhed on the sheets like a trapped kitten, afraid to breathe, afraid to say anything that would ruin this moment.
"Patrick..."
"Yes, dear... I'm here," he covered your hand with his bigger one, pushing the dildo even deeper, making you scream. "That's it, that's how you do it!"
"Awww, oh my GOD!" you tried to close your legs as the friction became too intense and Bateman just snickered at your pathetic attempt to stop him, so he just grabbed your throat and yanked it a little against the bed. "D-Daddy, it hurts!"
"Oh yeah?" Patrick couldn't hide his excitement when he saw your eyes watering, but his inner beast craved more. "I really wanted to be nice to you today, but you made me change my mind."
"Ahhh!" You clawed at his hand, which was choking you hard, but this man was too strong. "I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'M SO SORRY!"
The way he shoved the dildo into your bruised cunt was so fucking brutal that for one second you blacked out as the apex of it hit your cervix pretty brutally.
When you opened your eyes and yours met his, all you could see was lust mixed with rage. Huffing, Bateman suddenly moved down to your face to nip at your lips, then suck them and lick your cheekbone as he relished having such control over you. With a devilish grin, he continued to squeeze your neck, forcing you to fuck yourself with the dildo that was now completely covered in your juices.
"Do you hear that sound?" He taunted you, hovering over you and pressing you down with his massive muscles. "You're dripping like a fucking waterfall! So don't try to pretend you're not enjoying it, slut!"
"I'm going to explode!" Was all you could manage to scream as your whole body tensed like a spring.
"Awww, you're going to cum from fucking yourself with a cheesy sex toy, what a pathetic little whore!" Patrick almost barked these words in your face, but then he suddenly released your neck and went down to your collarbone, leaving wet, red marks here and there. "Keep going and don't you dare stop!"
Your eyes rolled back in your head when his wet tongue began to play with your swollen nipples, not to mention when he took one of them into his mouth and sucked it so eagerly that you cried out in pain. Trembling, you let him use your hand to set the pace, your inner walls aching every time the dildo brushed hard against them.
When Bateman noticed that your little frame was quivering too much, he quickly slipped down between your legs to suck on your clit and holy shit, he was so good at it, he definitely knew what he was doing.
"I—mhm, I'm gonna cum… Daddy, p-pleaseeee!" You were no longer moaning — at this point you were literally screaming, and your throat was burning, but that only spurred him on to eat you more fiercely.
"Mmmm, I've been thinking about tasting this pussy," he tugged on your sensitive bud before swirling his tongue around it. "For so fucking long."
Another deep thrust, followed by his merciless lapping at your oversensitive cunt, made your orgasm wash over you like a huge ocean wave. Shaking, your half-opened mouth froze in a silent cry as all your insides spasmed too intensely, and this sensation lasted so long that you almost fainted.
"Jesus, what a dirty girl you are," Patrick chuckled after he pulled away from your pussy and removed the dildo, his face covered in your wetness, it was literally running down his chin. "Look at that, you fucking cummed all over my face!" He forced you to look at him, and your dazed glance coaxed a loud chuckle from him. "You think I'm done with you?"
"I..." You tried desperately to pull yourself together, but the overstimulation hit you so hard that your brain refused to function at all.
"Yes, I'm talking to you!"
"Aww, w-wait!" You wailed loudly as he grasped your head and forced you closer to the edge of the bed. "Daddy!"
"Don't you 'Daddy' me," his ominous intonation was kinda scary, but you had no choice but to submit. "Don't worry, honey... I'm just going to play with your mouth a little..."
With a quick thrust, he pushed himself into your mouth, since you didn't really have any power to protest. Although it would have been pointless to do it anyway. You expected him to face fuck you really hard, but instead Bateman gently took your chin for support as his hips began to move faster, petting your head each time his red, swollen tip hit your throat.
"Arghh, your mouth feels so good, I missed that."
Patrick stroked your cheek almost lovingly, ignoring the way that you were almost gagging on his thick cock, savoring his cum and keeping eye contact with him. Grunting, he didn't last long as he collapsed into your mouth, rolling his hips and spilling his sticky liquid deep down your throat, and you didn't make any pathetic sounds, no whimpering or sobbing — you just took what he gave you. With your eyes closed, you drank him dry and heard him murmur:
"For now, I forgive you."
Slowly, Bateman pulled out from your abused mouth, leaving a trail of his cum and letting a few drops fall on your breasts.
"Clean them," he pointed at your tits, pumping his still hard cock and watching you catch the drops of his cum with your fingers. "Now get on your knees and spread your legs wide."
Whimpering, you obeyed and Patrick didn't waste any time, positioning himself behind you and wrapping his strong hands around your waist.
"Ahhh, Patrick..."
"Shush," he cut you off, rubbing his creamy cock between your ass cheeks. "I'm not going to fuck you in the ass, even though you really deserve it."
He rammed into your aching pussy without any mercy, stretching you even more from the inside and making you cry, your hands helplessly creasing the sheets beneath you.
"IT HURTS! AW!" You squealed as he pinned you down, forcing you to lie on your stomach as he trapped you under his massive body, relentlessly drilling your little hole.
"What? My dick is way bigger than that dildo, huh?" Bateman mocked you shamelessly, the slapping sound your bodies made was like music to his ears. "Ohh, what a poor little girl… mmhhm… I promise you… by the end of this night you will be so fucking full of my cum — that it will pour out, but I won’t stop… even if you beg me to!"
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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So I was rereading Nevermore and I kept thinking about the difference in character dynamics between Lenore and Annabel Lee in the flashbacks and in Nevermore Academy. I always kinda felt like there was some sort of mirroring going on and I think I am beginning to see a bit of a bigger picture in it.
What interests me the most is that Annabel Lee and Lenore, while staying the same people with the same personalities, have switched rolls completely after they died. I will jabber about this now.
Annabel Lee and Lenore have like I just said kept their personalities. Both pre- and postmortem Annabel Lee are bored by most things, silly and cheeky to the bone (probably to cope with her boredom and anxiety), careful, calculative and a manipulative people pleaser who thinks it's better for herself to mask all the time. She seeks barely anything except for a game, gambit or other thrill that can distract her for a second.
Lenore is both pre- and postmortem a stubborn, headstrong, straight forward and brave woman, who acts mostly out of impulse and really doesn't care to see the greater picture, who keeps letting her pride and temper get the better of her. She hates playing games, jumping around the bush and pretending to be someone she's not (character wise, impersonation is on the table).
Now here it gets more interesting. Like I said, the two of them switched roles entirely.
Lenore was the one who had nothing to lose except for Annabel when they were alive, Annabel has nothing to lose except for Lenore now that they're dead.
It was Lenore who burned down her family estate and did seemingly not care about the staff possibly burning to death. It was Lenore who got desperate and willing to throw everything away when it seemed like Annabel would be lost to her. It was Lenore who decided to be someone else (Leo) so that she and Annabel can get a happy ending. It was Lenore who was a threat to the things that Annabel had to lose and assumed/hoped Annabel would be okay with it. Meanwhile Annabel Lee made it clear to Lenore that she can't misbehave too much, that her disposition and the status of her father are a top priority to her, something Lenore completely ignored by showing up as a man and proposing to Annabel, making a fool out of Annabel and her father if it ever came out.
Annabel is the one with nothing to lose now. She made it clear from the start that she's not here to make friends and will throw each and every person that isn't Lenore under the bus the very moment it is convenient. It is her, who's willing to give her life if Lenore doesn't trust her. It is her freaking out completely when Lenore seems to be lost to her. It is her deciding she will pretend to be someone completely different to get a happy end with Lenore. It is Annabel who is a Danger to the things Lenore has to lose, because she assumes/hopes Lenore has the same dedication to their relationship. Lenore however now has friends that she cares about deeply and has made this clear to Annabel.
I think this is also a big part of why Annabel is so okay with ignoring that Lenore said her friends were important. Because Annabel thinks she perfectly knows Lenore and that Lenore will get over a few casualties and not care that much in the end. She thus far remembers only the Lenore who is willing to go over a few corpses to be with her, she does not remember why Lenore was like that. She may remember that there was noone to care about for Lenore, she does however not remember just how desperate Lenore's situation used to be and that her actions have been made not only out of love but also out of that exact desperation.
I am excited to see if this will continue and how or if they will break out of the very uneven codependency that followed them into death.
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TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !
summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.
notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread
PART 2! • taglist (click here to be added!)
you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.
he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.
the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.
well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.
but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.
in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.
sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.
what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.
“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”
“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.
“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”
you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.
“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”
“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”
“why did you- how did you-?”
“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.
you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.
the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.
“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.
“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.
and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.
“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.
“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.
“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”
“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.
“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.
“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.
the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.
however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.
“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”
“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”
he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”
the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.
however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”
you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.
“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”
“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”
“you like classics?” you nodded.
james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.
for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.
this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.
james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.
“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”
he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.
“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.
“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.
you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”
“twice.”
“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”
“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”
“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”
“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.
you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.
“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”
“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.
the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.
fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”
“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.
“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”
you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”
and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.
“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”
“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.
“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”
“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”
you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.
it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.
however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.
you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.
love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.
“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.
but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.
“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”
“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”
“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”
“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”
well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.
he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.
you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.
and then you saw your brother’s face.
oh fuck indeed.
he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.
“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”
“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”
“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”
“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”
“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”
you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”
“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.
you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.
“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.
“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.
“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.
“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.
“it’s us against the world right now, love.”
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Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff
Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?
Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig
Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic
wc: 1.3k
notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)
-⧗-
Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.
It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.
And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.
Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.
There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.
For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.
However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.
Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.
Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.
But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”
Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.
You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.
What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?
You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.
It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.
You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.
Everyone loved her.
Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.
A try hard in a room full of effortless people.
Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.
You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.
You wanted that so badly it hurt.
But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.
Maybe it’s for the best.
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Ink and Smoke I Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader
Summary : Reuben's wife wants to play matchmakers with Bob. It usually fails until the whole squad has a tattoo appointment.
TW : none, full fluff, hyper self indulgent
Length : 3664 words
AN : maybe it's kind of a self insert fic because of the whole "reader is a tattooed girly" and maybe the bee tattoo is the one I have. Maybe.
posted on AO3 November 8, 2023
A few months had passed since the uranium mission and the squadron was settled to San Diego for good, and Bob had never been happier. He finally had everything and everyone he needed in one place. The squad was a new family for him, he grew close to each of them, even Jake.
Work was easier now that he was permanently stationed here, and he was glad that the squadron was a permanent unit as well ; they were always working together and getting missions as a special task force. He was able to teach new graduates with Phoenix, and he enjoyed being an instructor.
Life was good. His little found family fell into an easy routine of Sunday brunches at each other's houses, days off at the beach playing dogfight football, evenings at the Hard Deck. Each of them got to meet the family of the others ; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners… Reuben was the first to introduce his wife, Josie, to the squadron and everyone loved her. They were expecting their first child and Mickey had appointed himself as godfather (not that Reuben had anything against it, but he had to talk it over with his wife). Josie had some sort of maternal aura that made them so comfortable, much like Penny ; even Bradley opened up to her about his past, and Jake always seemed to calm down when the pregnant woman gave him the "mommy" look.
As for his own love life, Bob’s friends had tried so many times to set him up on dates, and each time it had failed. The girls he was set up with had nothing to do with it for the most part ; Bob was sure they were great people, but they were always too much for him. He was a discreet and somewhat shy type of guy, he wasn't really comfortable with their extroverted behavior. And it wasn't like he was actively looking for a relationship; he liked being single most of the time. He had his ways, his habits, his comfort zone, and he wasn't in any hurry to leave it. His life was perfect as he saw it. But he couldn't deny that sometimes he felt lonely. He felt that way when he couldn't go home to his family, when he was on leave from work, or when he was asked to write his marital status on some paperwork. He felt that way when he listened to Natasha talk about her dates with her pretty hairdresser and how everything was going smoothly. He felt that way when he saw the girls at the bar only looking at Bradley, Javy, Jake or Mickey; he was right there but invisible. He felt that way when he was the last of his siblings and cousins to be single; his younger brother even got married this year. He felt that way when his father seemed to have to remind him that his last relationship was from before he left for naval school, and when his mother whined about her baby being all alone in San Diego.
Other than that, Bob didn't feel lonely. Not too much.
When he arrived at the Hard Deck after another failed date, Josie sighed with a confused pout.
"Why didn't it work out this time, Bobby?"
He shrugged as he sat between her and Natasha on the stool across from the pool table where Jake and Bradley were playing. "She's just passing through San Diego and she... I don't know, she talked a lot about herself, I didn't have time to get a word in. And when I did, she didn't seem too interested in what I had to say."
"Yickes," Natasha grimaced, "you did well to leave that date early."
"Oh, well, in fact, I didn't... She actually was the one who cut it short, she had to meet a friend apparently. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled slightly at the girls, and Reuben’s wife rolled her eyes before finishing her ginger ale, rubbing her round belly.
"I give up, Bob. You'll find someone eventually, but I'm done trying to set you up. I hate seeing you like this."
"Like what?" he frowned a little, not understanding.
"Like a puppy that's been thrown out," Reuben said as he kissed his wife's temple, joining their conversation. She rolled her eyes, half amused. "That's the idea. You always look so disappointed and sad after these dates. And I know it makes you question your self-worth, and I don't want that. So we won't set you up anymore, consider this my early birthday present to you," she smiled.
"Finally - Ouch!" he chuckled, stroking his side where Josie had elbowed him. She sighed with a smile and they moved on to more casual conversation. It was another casual night, and Bob was loving it. The brunette was right, he'll find someone eventually, why force fate?
As the night went on, one particular topic was brought back to the table; their matching tattoo project. The seven of them still hadn't decided what to get, but Reuben had already made an appointment with a tattoo artist that he and Josie had been to a few times; she had four tattoos, and three of them were by that artist. It was fine line, discreet; that style was perfect for the squad.
"So, except for Reuben, this will be everyone's first tattoo?" Mickey asked, reading everyone's ideas again on Javy's phone. They all nodded and Natasha scoffed.
"Robert Floyd, stop lying to us! You have a tattoo!"
Bob blushed under the curious gaze of his friends, and if his eyes could throw knives, Phoenix would be dead.
"Come to think of it, we've never seen him without a shirt on," Mickey remarked, narrowing his eyes. The other boys agreed and Jake grinned.
"What kind of embarrassing ink you got Baby on board?"
"If it's the name of an ex-girlfriend, I swear we'll ask for the whole story!" Javy insisted. Everyone tried to guess, making Bob more and more embarrassed and Natasha smirked, proud of her. She saw his tattoo once, after a water fight.
"Come on Robby, show them, it's not that bad..." she encouraged him, gently squeezing his forearm. The blond man pouted and sighed, pulling out his phone to find photos. He showed the screen to his friends when he found the picture he was looking for. The tattoo was on his ribs and it was a quote with a carnation flower underneath. Mickey couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he read the quote, his eyes shining with admiration, "Is that a Star Wars reference?"
"It is..." Bob muttered, "And my older cousin has the other half of the quote."
He swiped and showed them a picture of their tattoos side by side; his cousin’s said "Do or do not." with the flower above it, and Bob’s one said "There is no try."
"Nerd," Jake snorted, earning a nudge from Reuben.
"In our defense, we were barely eighteen when we made them, just before I went to naval school," he shrugged.
"I think it's cute," Josie smiled and Bradley hummed in agreement, siping his beer.
"How come you never told me you were Star Wars fans?" Mickey accused, "What do you think of the series? Without the last three movies, of course. They don't exist," and he chatted with Bob for a good half hour.
Bradley cleared his throat to stop the rumbling, "Can we get back to the tattoo topic? We have less than fifteen hours to decide".
After some discussion and a few scribbles of their ideas on some napkins, they settled on three designs that the tattoo artist would be able to work with.
Bob carefully saved the napkins, and one by one the group went home. He decided to take a walk on the beach before he left.
He liked the silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the waves and the wind. His week had been exhausting and quite stressful, and being here soothed him. The moonlight guided his steps home. As he made his way to his little house, he lit a cigarette. He was not much of a smoker, but every now and then it helped calm his nerves. Truth to be told, he was a little nervous to get tattooed. He wasn’t a big fan of needles. He just hoped that the final design would be simple enough so he didn’t have to stay too long under the hands and tools of the tattoo artist.
The next day, after a nice lunch together, the group finally went to the tattoo parlor. Josie was with them, even more excited than they were. They walked in, making the little bell above the door ring. Soft rock was playing at a low volume, and some of the artist's work was hanging on the walls.
Bob looked around curiously. This parlor was nothing like the one he'd been in with his cousin almost twelve years before. Here, the large windows let in daylight, and the reception and waiting areas were beautifully decorated with green plants (though Bob suspected they were fake). On the coffee table across from the couches was a binder containing the flashes that were still available. And on the walls were photos of several finished tattoos and some awards the artist seemed to have won at conventions around the country. The whole atmosphere was comfortable and reassuring.
"I'll be there in two seconds!" your voice came from the back of the room.
The curtain at the back of the shop opened and you stepped out, dusting your hands. Your arms were covered with tattoos of all kinds; some colored, some not. Bob watched you for a moment, impressed by the number of tattoos you had. His eye fell on the one under and on your collarbones; two daffodils with a bee in the middle. He found it gorgeous.
He was jolted out of his contemplation when Josie threw herself in your arms.
"Bee! It's so good to see you!"
"Hello to you too, Jo’ !" you chuckled, returning her hug, "I assume this is the famous Dagger Squad you've been talking about."
You gave them your real name with a smile and shook hands with everyone, "You can call me Bee though, it doesn't bother me!". Your eyes locked with Bob's for a few seconds and he thought he saw you blushing a little. But maybe he had hallucinated.
You offered them some tea or coffee while grabbing your sketchbook and pen. "Okay, so what were your ideas? Jo’ and Reuben here told me you had quite a few," you asked with a smile, and the group began to explain what they had in mind. Bob, sitting in front of you, wasn't listening. He was mesmerized ; you had such a sweet voice and a warm, inviting aura. Your eyes shone with interest behind your glasses as you took notes on what Bob's friends were saying. Your soft smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears blush whenever he made eye contact with you.
He was drawn out of his contemplation by Bradley, who nudged him discreetly. You had asked him something, but he didn't seem to have heard.
"Sorry, what?"
"Your friends said you had some papers with your ideas. May I see them?" you chuckled with a sweet smile.
"Oh... Oh! The napkins, yes!" he mumbled and took them out of his pocket. He displayed them on the coffee table in front of you. He blushed as your fingers brushed over his, and Josie and Natasha noticed. They looked at each other and wiggled their eyebrows. An idea had blossomed in their minds…
***
A few sketches later, you had a design that everyone in the group loved. It was simple enough that you could make the seven of them that afternoon. While you were getting everything ready, the Daggers argued about who would go after Reuben, who volunteered to go first. But Bob seemed a little lost and couldn't say anything. Josie sighed and intervened, hands on hips, like a mother scolding her children.
"Okay, everybody, calm down. Jake will go second, Mickey third and then Javy."
"But why?" Jake gasped and Mickey pouted.
"Because you three are too afraid, I can feel it. Look at it this way: the sooner you get it done, the sooner it's over."
"Good thinking..." Javy muttered.
"Thank you. Then Natasha, Bradley, and finally Bob. As soon as you're done, go to the little store next door and get yourself a snack, okay?"
The five nodded like children, but Natasha had a little mischievous smile on her lips that matched Josie's. But the boys, except for Reuben, didn't seem to notice. The latter gave his wife a knowing look and shook his head with a smile when she just shrugged.
Bob wasn't sure what to do. He looked at you a few times as you finished cleaning Reuben’s finished tattoo. You laughed with him and Bob blushed. He'd never seen anyone laugh so beautifully. His heart raced a little, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were mesmerizing, a work of art.
"... Bob?"
"Huh?" he hummed, still lost in contemplation.
"Bobby, stop staring, you're not discreet," Josie giggled and Bob blushed wildly. He looked around and to his relief the others didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. "You know, Bee is single... you should ask her out. You're totally her type."
"Am I?" he mumbled, blushing as Nat and Josie giggled, "I-I mean, I, uh… she’s-" Bob stuttered. He was busted. Natasha wrapped her arm around his and looked at you.
"From what Josie and Reuben have told me, Bee is really sweet," she said.
"She loves sci-fi, has two cats, builds Legos, and she absolutely loves quiet walks on the beach, just like you," Josie informed him with a smile, and Bob's cheeks turned even redder. He watched as you reassured Jake and explained how the machine worked. Your smile definitely made Bob's heart flutter. He wanted it to be directed at him. Not at Jake who was certainly flirting with you… although you didn’t seem that affected by it.
"She's a great girl, Bobby, and yes, I said I'd stop to set you up, but this isn't technically a date. It's up to you if you want to ask her out," Josie argued and he nodded, playing nervously with his fingers.
"I... I'll try?" he murmured, clearly worried about the situation, "but what if you're wrong and I'm not her type? Or what if I make it all awkward? or what if-"
"Calm down Floyd, it'll be fine! She won't reject you like that. Look at her, she's too nice for that. You have the whole afternoon to relax and just be yourself with her. We'll keep the others out," Natasha smiled as she gave him a friendly nudge. He sighed and nodded, trying to keep his composure. But then he frowned and turned to the two women beside him. "That's why you wanted me to go last?"
They just chuckled and shrugged. Bob sighed again and shook his head, "You two are a menace," he groaned.
As the afternoon wore on, Bob had to go out twice to catch his breath. He tried not to smoke right now, but the urge got stronger as his turn to get tattooed approached. He watched you laugh with Bradley as you tattooed him on the inside of his bicep. Then Bradley pointed at Bob and said something to you. You smiled a little and waved to him. He blushed so hard he thought his whole face was on fire. He shyly waved back and thought he saw you blush again. But you quickly turned your attention back to Bradley.
Bob's heart was pounding, he was filling up like a 10-year-old facing his first crush.
And finally it was his turn. Josie and Natasha managed to get everyone out by pretending to go shopping for dinner - which wasn't exactly a lie. Bob was worriedly silent as you cleaned your station. You turned to him and smiled.
"Would you like something to drink while I finish preparing the area? I have some ginger ale, Reuben told me you usually like it?"
Bob just nodded, speechless. How can you be so thoughtful?
He thanked you as you handed him the glass and watched you print the last stencil.
"Nervous?" you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, "Where do you want it?"
"Y-Yeah, a little bit," he swallowed and scratched his neck nervously, "I, uh... maybe here?" he gestured to his ribs, the side that had no tattoos.
"Josie told me you already had a tattoo, right? Do you want them mirrored, like symmetrical?" you asked as he took off his shirt. You blushed. This man was really, really beautiful. His friends were too, you'd seen Jake and Mickey shirtless, but Bob... Bob had this charming boyish face and a body that you could see yourself curling up against in your bed for a cuddle in rainy weather. He had that old American charm with his wire-rimmed glasses, that little curl of hair that fell perfectly on his forehead, and that shy smile. You wanted him to take you out on a date anywhere he wanted and listen to his surprisingly raspy voice talk about absolutely anything... but you had to be professional.
"Yes," he replied, "I think it could be quite harmonious..."
"I think so too," you smiled at him and prepared his skin before placing the stencil. You let him check to see if he liked the placement. He turned to you and his crooked smile made you feel all warm inside. He was absolutely adorable.
"I love it," he said, excited like a little boy on Christmas Eve, "it looks amazing!"
"Well, let's get to work then, Lieutenant!" you chuckled and let him lie down. You put on your gloves and turned on the machine. You saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly; surely to calm his nerves. "Ready?" you asked quietly and he nodded.
He didn't flinch or move once during the session. You saw him grimace from time to time, but he was perfectly still. You tried to talk to him to ease the process without pushing him too hard, and to your own surprise, he was quite talkative. The two of you debated which was the best Lego set you owned - it was obviously the Millenium Falcon. He really made you laugh when he explained how Bradley accidentally broke his glasses and how Josie scolded them for being reckless while playing soccer on the beach. And you both agreed that Reuben and Josie would make great parents. He walked you outside when you said you needed a smoke break.
"I don't smoke that much, I'm trying to quit," you shrugged, "but some days are harder than others."
"Yeah, I get it, I'm not a heavy smoker either, but it helps... relax, I guess," he said, lighting your cigarette and then his. You smiled and agreed. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting, casting orange and pink hues in the sky. Bob blew his smoke slowly through his nose and sighed.
"I love sunsets," he said, "it's always a different color show..."
"I'm sure it's nicer when you're actually in the sky, isn't it?"
"Oh yes it is!" he replied excitedly, "Sometimes with the clouds it's like being surrounded by cotton candy. It's so pretty, but it makes me hungry."
You laughed and his smile grew wider.
"So you have a sweet tooth?"
"The worst," he sighed with a soft grin, "I think I might be addicted to sugar. I mean, we all are a little, but sweet things are my weakness."
The way he looked at you when he said that made you blush furiously. And he blushed too, surprised at his own behavior. But you didn't seem bothered, so he wasn't embarrassed. You bit your lip and sighed with a smile before looking back at him.
"So if I asked you to come with me to the fair and eat our body weight in candy and cake on Sunday, would you agree?"
"Yes," he blushed, surprised at his own eagerness to accept your proposition. He chuckled and nodded, "I would gladly agree."
"It's a date then..." you smiled and exchanged numbers. Then you resumed your conversation about whatever was on your minds. Bob had never felt so comfortable with anyone, and neither had you. Unfortunately, the rest of the Daggers made their way back to your shop to pay you for the tattoos and take some pictures of them. They were all happy with the results and Mickey promised to come back for more. Bob couldn't stop smiling and looking at you as if you were holding the stars, and neither could you. You said goodbye to everyone, hugged Reuben and Josie - asking their growing baby in her belly to behave - and kissed Bob on the cheek when he last existed. You had to stand on tiptoe to do it, which he found adorable.
"See you Sunday, Bob," you almost whispered.
"Gladly Bee, can't wait," he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
You waved him goodbye and he felt all light and happy on his way to his car.
The rest of the group was completely forgotten, but they were watching from a distance. They were surprised and so lost by what they had just witnessed, except for Nat and Josie who were really proud of their part in it. They discreetly high-fived and giggled.
"What did you do?" Reuben finally asked his wife, curious.
"Me? Nothing," she smiled at him before looking at Bob, who didn't stop smiling. She took her husband's hand on the way to their car and chuckled, "I just encouraged fate."
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Alastor's Bloody Valentine
Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special
Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.
Maybe there'll be a part deux?
It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!
New Orleans, 1932
There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts.
As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.
With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone.
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”
“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!”
You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar.
With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive.
Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”
You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker.
“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped.
Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face.
Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.
Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”
“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”
“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice.
Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes.
“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”
Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”
Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson.
“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”
Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so.
“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”
“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.
“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”
Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”
“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair.
In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor.
“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”
Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.
“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”
“You're a tease,” you swallowed.
Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”
A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream.
“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily.
You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”
Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”
Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”
“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.
Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him.
“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase.
Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck.
“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again.
You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer.
“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”
Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly.
The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor.
He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly.
You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you - so that everyone knew you belonged to him.
“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.
The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a whisper. “To be mine, forever?”
Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.
“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”
~~~
You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up.
There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned.
You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books.
The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not.
You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”
“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”
Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”
Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face.
“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”
“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”
“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”
Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it.
“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”
“Please put the knife do-”
You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.
Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago.
“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”
Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.
“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”
“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked.
Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.
Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.
“It's a date.”
Part Two
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talk to me about the theme of emotional isolation for zuko and aang
It's the main reason I'm obsessed with the show tbh.
Can we overstate Aang's isolation within the show. He's not only a survivor--a sole survivor--of a genocide, he's also knocked out of time and history. These are the facts of his physical isolation. But his emotional isolation is such a different beast. It began before any deaths did. He is set apart by the monks and by the whole world as a savior. Shortly after his status as the avatar is made known, his peers exclude him, his power too great. His humanity is denied because he's too divine. Only Gyatso seems to still regard him for who he is rather than his gifts. Of course, that's why the council decides Aang needs to be further separated from worldly relations like that, and vote to send him off. For Aang, it's the last straw. He can't bear further exile from others. To regain some sense of control, he tries to run away from the heavy burden and those who have put it on him. At least this time, he's the one choosing his loneliness. It has become so clear that no one can understand his feelings about the Avatar State.
This is the emotional state he enters the series with, icon rather than human. He starts off concealing his revered identity in an attempt to indulge in simple pleasures, penguin sledding, coy fish riding, etc. But the shame is secretly right there at the surface. He's lovable but mercurial. Friendly and animated with everyone when he first meets them but in a way that's fleeting. The knowledge that he will have to leave the village, in an episodic fashion, having helped the members of the town, even having sacrificed himself for their well-being, is an understood fact of the plot and his life. At most he sheds some of his grief by putting it into words with Katara's encouragement. But despite the whole world fighting through their own grief from the fire nation and Katara's sole-survival of her own culture's genocide, they each have people in their families and cultures who, however bitterly, hold them and hold the broken memories together with one another. No one is as physically isolated as Aang, but, more importantly for his character development, no one is as isolated by their significance to the world.
No one, except Zuko. Zuko, the banished prince. Isn't that what Aang as the Avatar is in many ways: a spiritual prince, an heir by birth to power and legacy, who has been banished from his inheritance. Only, Aang's inheritance would be peace. Zuko's would be the Fire Nation, but because of his humanity, Zuko, like Aang, is without a nation. This is one reason Zuko and Aang are such incredible narrative foils. Aang is rejected from humanity's compassion because of his divine status while Zuko is rejected from divine rule because of his human compassion and failures to demonstrate perfection. (If you're interested in this dynamic in media, Fruits Basket has fantastic explorations of these themes with Kyo vs. Yuki and Tohru vs. Akito.)
How early did Zuko start to notice the disappointment he brought to his father and grandfather? As early as we can see, Zuko seems alone. The episode with that phrase in the title reflects back on his childhood, which, noticeably, lacks the friends Azula manages to keep. He mimics and mocks her cruelty, as well, in an attempt to impress his mother. His insecurity seems already set, a sense that no one can understand. While Aang recognizes that everyone thinks he's too good to belong, Zuko lives in an environment in which he's not good enough to belong.
The reactions to their rejections correspond, too. Zuko's reaction of antagonistic pursuit of anyone and everyone--like Aang's reaction to run away (literally and sometimes emotionally with a smile or joke)--helps keep others in a framework of enemies so he can control his exile rather than the other way around. Yet these behaviors put them in dynamic relation to one another--Zuko is drawn to the endless pursuit of the strangely kind Aang, whose instinct is to behold others while remaining untouchable, while Aang becomes clearly intrigued by the person who refuses to treat him like an untouchable hero, the person who refuses to give up on the possibility that the Avatar can be flawed and fail, no matter how many times he slips away proving his divine destiny.
It's obvious that Zuko is supposed to hate Aang, as the Avatar. "The Headband" illustrates how education in the Fire Nation portrays him if the fact that Zuko's only possibility for regaining his title under his father is bringing the Avatar back isn't enough evidence for you. But Aang ought to hate Zuko just as much, if not more. Instead, they are drawn toward one another with an remarkable intensity, established within the first half of the first season, "The Storm" x "Blue Spirit" combo punch! In fact, the blue spirit episode really reveals what they can mean to each other. Not only in Aang's question at the end that invites Zuko back into the past with him, but in the way that Zuko is made to be the divine entity for a brief period while Aang is helpless in the fort. Then, that question at the end: "Do you think we could have been friends?" Isn't that the opposite of the isolation they feel. In the woods, without a nation or an allegiance, Aang, remembering the people and time that he was forced to leave asks Zuko, who has just betrayed the people who banished him, in another version of life where they were both simple people rather heirs of vast power, if they could have formed a kind of union that would have dissolved the loneliness that consumes both of them. But it's momentary and they have to return to the world that defines them as the Avatar and the Banished Fire Prince.
This becomes one of the cores of the show, as echoed in the finale, where Zuko and Aang consummate their friendship, but by then, through traveling the winding road toward one another and aiming to take on a part of what the other person represents, they have found a balance that refused the binaries of divinity and fallibility that had previously separated and defined their lives, binaries that exiled them from connecting with others, binaries that built towers to isolate them from the world. The victims and survivors of genocide, the subjects of colonial violence, nor the sufferers of abuse need be pure to claim their pain, nor must the people who want and work towards justice be saints to do that work. Harder for many audience members to absorb, despite their love for Zuko who's arc is meant to emphasize the point, there is a spark of divinity in everyone, from the most unloved to the most violent and tyrannical. This second fact must exist alongside the first, or else the premise won't hold. How you choose to act and engage with that spark of divinity is a human choice we each make on our own, but that does not deny it's existence. The divine ideals must be allowed to fall apart into comedy and tragedy, while the mundane, the profane, and the cruels horrors of life must be allowed to be seen as something that hold the possibility to become beautiful and part of a grander design. The Avatar must be allowed to be Aang and Zuko must be allowed to be the Firelord so that we can have Avatar Aang (the last title of the series) and Firelord Zuko (the most celebrated character arc of the series). They need one another to assuage the fear, isolation, and dread that black-and-white perfectionist thinking boxes us into.
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Lightning - PJM (18+)
Pairing: Heartthrob!Jimin X Fem!Reader
Word count: 1465
Summary: You don't understand why you find Park Jimin everywhere you go. Also, why his eyes stay only on you.
Theme: Smut, PWP
Warnings: Public sex (foreplay), fingering, panty keeping (idk what I am writing here), mentions of drinking, very vaguely discussed context, party/club settings, Jimin is a bit mysterious. MDNI!!
Part 2: Like Crazy
**************
"Lightning strikes everytime she moves..
Everybody's watching her,
But she's looking at you."
Yes, exactly. Lightning strikes everytime Jimin moves. He is the life of the party. When he moves everyone only stares. Sometimes you feel Jimin isn't even real. Does he even dance or does he just float on thin air?
When it comes to Jimin, age, gender, status nothing matters. Everyone is a fan, everyone is in love, everyone waits to be picked by him. Be it for a night or for a dance, everyone is ready to surrender themselves to Park Jimin.
Now as he dances or more likely grinds on his girl for the night, you stare at him from the corner of your eyes, sipping on your drink. Every pair of eyes are on Jimin but Jimin's eyes can't seem to leave you. Everybody is watching him but he's looking at you, only you.
"So, my place or yours?" The guy sitting beside you asks. He has been flirting for a good ten minutes now. Even though you have hardly been hearing anything he says you know he just can't ask whether it will be your place or his. You're not going to sleep with him.
You roll your eyes, "keep on dreaming" you say as you hop off the bar stool to head towards the exit. The guy blocks your way.
"Hey, c'mon. We can have a good night." He pursues.
"Sorry but I am not interested." You reply, you are already starting to get irritated.
"Oh really? So who are you interested in? Park Jimin? You think you have a chance with Park Jimin?" He chuckles rudely. Your eyes go wide. Who this little dick thinks of himself! How the fuck he gets to insult you like this? You are about to curse at him very badly but…
"That's for us to decide. Not you, Mr. Whoever you are." Says the man in question, Park Jimin. You didn't even register when he left the dance floor and came to you. You stare at him with blown out pupils as he brushes past you and stands between you and the guy.
"Leave" Jimin commands the guy and he leaves after glaring at you for a bit. You turn your heels to leave as well. But it's too late. Jimin is already holding you by your elbow.
"Mind having a dance with me?" Jimin says as his stare pierce directly through your soul.
"I- I can't dance." You fumble upon your words. It's the first time you two are exchanging words and it makes you more than nervous. You can't even think of dancing with him.
"I'll lead you, Y/N" he says before pulling you towards the dance floor.
Your eyes go wide again, how does he know your name?
"Wait, you know my name?" You shout over the music as you reach the dance floor.
Jimin wastes no time. He places both of his hands on either side of your waist and pulls you closer to him. Your body presses onto his, your tits onto his firm chest, his crotch onto your stomach. You can feel his bulge. Your breath hitches.
You have always admired him from afar. You have always known your place. You have always admitted that Park Jimin is a dream, a dream that can't take the shape of reality. You knew it all so you stayed away. You never threw yourself at him unlike others.
You two don't even attend the same classes nor do you share the same group of friends. There's a sky-to-earth difference that persists between you two. But somehow you find Jimin everywhere you go. Be it a party or a seminar or a random university get-together. You find Jimin everywhere. And his eyes seem to find you just like everyone's find him. You thought it's a mere coincidence but maybe you were wrong.
"I know a lot of things about you, Y/N. More than you can even think of." Jimin smirks. One of his hands reaches down to stay on the swell of your ass. You grasp at the sudden intimacy.
"How?" You ask him as you try to match his steps. Swaying your hips as his hands guide you.
"Do you really think it's a coincidence to find me everywhere you go?" His eyes stay trained on yours, once again piercing through your soul.
He leans down towards you, reaches your level, and whispers in your ear, "I have been chasing you for a long time now…. Finally you are in my claws."
Shivers run down your spine…. Park Jimin has been chasing you? Why? But before you could voice your question, he bites your earlobe. You moan out a little. You know it's probably not audible since the volume of the music is way too loud. But Jimin hears it.
His hand encircles around your waist tighter as he pulls you towards him even more. Your faces are inches away from each other. And you forget that the world exists.
His plump lips are so inviting that you give in and place your lips on his, giving him a chaste kiss. You hear Jimin groan when you part your lips from him.
"Fuck" he curses as he attacks your lips again. His hand leaves your hip and that reaches to grope one of your tits. He massages it gently but the kiss gets rougher and hungrier each passing moment.
Jimin rubs his erection on your stomach and you know he is quite hard already. He breaks the kiss and looks at you for a moment. You take the chance to admire his beauty. His black locks falling on his eyes, his plump glossy lips, his smooth skin, his Adam's apple and of course his midnight blue sparkle-y two piece dress, everything is perfect. Everything emphasizes his beauty beyond imagination. And for a moment you wonder, if it's another wet dream you're having. Maybe to prove you wrong, Jimin leans down again.
"Remove your panty" he whispers in your ear as you take a moment to register his words.
"W-what?" You ask, bamfuzzled.
"I said remove your panty, baby. Right. Now." His demeanor changes to a more demanding one. You can't help but feel yourself getting aroused. And you obey his words.
Scanning the surroundings for a bit you understand everyone's too busy to keep an eye on you two, since Jimin already found someone, no one is wasting their time anymore. So you take the chance and put one of your hands under your little black dress to remove your panty. As soon as the deed is done, you see Jimin's hand extending towards you as he points the piece of garment with his eyes. You place it on his palm. He puts it in his pocket while licking his lips, eyes staying on your face.
Then once again he pulls you closer to him. this time he attacks your neck, biting and sucking every inch of skin available to him. One of his hands stays on your waist when the other one pushes your dress slightly higher.
You moan out loud when you feel him nipping on your neck and at the same time his thumb presses on your clit.
"So wet and ready for me" he says between kisses. The pad of his thumb makes patterns on your clit as two of his digits slide into you.
"Ji-Jimin" you moan.
"Yes baby? You like that?" He asks. You nod your head as you're unable to form a sentence.
It's been long since you have had anything called sex. And the way Jimin's fingers are restlessly pumping into you, your body can hardly take it. Moreover, the fact that there are people surrounding you, all or most of them want Park Jimin for themselves but you are the one getting his fingers to abuse your cunt like this, is making your pleasure ten fold. As a result, you clench around him embarrassingly early.
"You wanna cum already?" He asks with a low seductive voice, staring at you.
"I'm close" you breathe out as he reaches to kiss your throat again.
"Cum. Make a mess on my fingers, here on the dance floor, Y/N" he commands and you comply.
You cum on his fingers. As he sucks a bruise on your neck. Then he parts his lips from your skin, removes his fingers from you, stands tall and stares at you with his siren eyes.
He brings his fingers coated with your juice to his lips and puts it on his tongue. He hums at the taste, you start to get wet again just with the view.
"Fuck. You taste so good." He says as he completes sucking his fingers. You bite your lips and release a shaky breath.
"Let me drop you home." He says as he starts pulling you out of the club.
**********
A/N: anyone want a part 2?
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life
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𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘧𝘦𝘺
౨ৎ ⋆。˚ Final timeline , valentines special , gn!reader , reader actually likes Valentine’s Day instead of despising it , reader is apart of the student council , delinquent/school council troupe , idk how many members black dragon had but ik the gang was HUGE so I went w 650 , izana knows he isn’t biologically related to the others for plot convenience , idk how old the kids are so Emma is four, mikey is five and izana is seven.
School was always boring, however the only time you found pleasure in attending your mundane school was during Valentine’s Day.
Girls gushing over the chocolates they’re either giving or receiving, and guys flushed from sudden confessions and giving flowers to their lucky lady.
The air in school seemed more lively with the coming of Valentine’s Day.
You were yet to acquire a partner to share this special event with, however that never bothered you too much. You were a fairly popular face around school, and had your fair share of admires (girls and guys alike).
However you were in no rush to run into a relationship. Your status as vice president of the student council already filled your schedule enough as is, and having some dense and clingy person begging for you attention wasn’t ideal.
And so, you smiled gently as you watched your student council friend get a batch of roses from her crush, hoping the very best for her.
Shinichiro, unlike yourself, was rather desperate to acquire somebody to love. Ever since middle school, he’d trail a pretty girl in the halls and ask if she was interested in going to grab a bite to eat.
And the response was almost the same with every girl.
“Sorry, Sano. I probably shouldn’t go out with a delinquent.” “Sorry Sano, I’m not interested right now” “Sano, please leave me alone this is the 3rd time”
As highschool came and past by, Sano had asked out a total of 16 girls and 7 guys before he eventually gave up. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to find his special someone?
It was in his 2nd year of high school before Shinichiro Sano would end up finding somebody to share his obligatory chocolates with.
It was a day like no other, however instead of pure oxygen, something else seemed to fill the air.
Love.
Couples and pre-couples littered the school. Girls flattened out their skirts and boys fixed their hair in anticipation.
You had decided that you’d come a bit earlier today, as you had some papers you had to finish off before class began. It’s not your fault your mother couldn’t pick up your little sister today, even though she had started middle school already.
“Little girls Like Keiko shouldn’t walk home alone, be a good older brother/sister and walk her home.”
Your mothers was just a liiiiitttttleeee over protective.
Only the sound of motorcycles pulled you from your daze as you stared at the entrance of the school. The bikes wernt an uncommon sound, after all.
The Black Dragons are infamous around school, known for their mischievous yet respected leader. Shinichiro was a celebrity amongst delinquents, a shining star for all to follow. The North Star of the sky, as one could say. He caused trouble, yet always cleaned up after himself. He has bad luck with women, however has been known to defend and fight for girls he’s never even met before.
In the eyes of many, he was a dumb and irresponsible boy who led more men than he could handle (650, to be specific). In your eyes however, he was a good man. Sure he got into trouble and messed around with his friends, but he never once laid a hand on someone who didn’t deserve it.
As the man of the hour walked up to the school, his 3 lackys in tow, he walked past you, a gentle smile plastered on his face.
Perhaps, he could be smiling at you?
As you left the council room, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking back, you see the hair of Shinichiro’s closest friend, Wakasa Imaushi.
“Hey, got a minute?” The blonde asked you, his eyes gazing your confused expression. You only silently nod, before following the gang leader to your possible doom.
As you walk through the halls of your school, you ponder to yourself silently. What could a delinquent want with the vice president of the student council?
Alas, you eventually come to a halt, you walk into the room, Wakasa holding the door for you like a gentleman. As you enter the room, an interesting sight beholds you.
Shinichiro is sat on a chair, his other two friends are leaning side by side. He would almost look like a king, if it wasn’t for his dopey expression that rested on his face.
“(Y/N) perfect timing! I have something to ask you.”
HUH???
You aren’t entirely sure why your mind went to the certain romantic event being held today, however the clear expression of shock on your face is enough to have Shinichiro put your mind at ease.
“I’m not asking about valentines, you can relax vice prez. I wanted to ask you about your sister.” He begins, his voice getting slightly more serious.
“Why? Has something happened to Keiko that I don’t know about?” You ask him, wondering that if you were correct, how did he know before you?
“She’s adopted, correct? How did that settle for your family.” He seems serious now, but not his scary and gang leader mode scary.
He’s never allow his crush to see him in such a state.
“Yes, she is adopted. We took her in 3 years ago. Why do you ask?”
“Well, there’s a kid my family had taken in from the orphanage recently. He’s a little older than my other two, and he’s not fully Japanese. I’m worried Izana might feel a bit excluded, given he isn’t related to Manjiro and Emma. I was wondering if you had some advice to give me, so I can discuss this with him without him getting uncomfortable or scared.”
You can’t tell if you’re more shocked about the fact Shinichiro Sano told you a very sensitive fact about his home life, or about the fact he’s taken in another sibling. You’re well aware of the other two.
But he came to you for assistance, and no matter what kind of student they are, it’s your job as vice president to help all students out.
“Well, if you wanted, I could bring Keiko around to talk to him about it? He might feel more comfortable talking to a child with similar experiences to him.”
“REALLY?? That would be AWSOME, (Y/N)!”
And so, you picked Keiko up from school and visited the Sano estate. It wasn’t too far from where you live, maybe a 5-10 minute walk, however the second you opened the door…
“MIKEY LEAVE HER ALONE”
“ITS A DOLL NOT A REAL GIRL SHIN”
A boy with blonde hair, no older then six, is standing on the couch whilst a little girl is sobbing in an attempt to get her doll back. Shinichiro is yelling from the top of his lungs at his brother, but isn’t currently in the main room.
“Uhmm… bad timing?” You peeped out, your little sister shuffling behind you. At once, three pairs of eyes land on you. Then, a fourth pair peep from behind a door. Two lilac iris’ stare into your own.
“Wow, a boy/girl” Manjiro says, taken aback by your presence in the house. Emma only looks at you with excitement in her eyes, seemingly noticing the presence of your sister in the house.
“SHIT! Sorry (Y/N) I completely forgot you were coming over today, please make yourselves at home. Emma, Mikey, BEST behaviour around our guests.”
Shinichiro orders his siblings in an endearing manner. It’s like his gang mode has a switch, and his usual personality shines through the curtains.
He’s such a sweet brother
Introducing yourself to the two gremlins, you eventually make your way to the boy of the hour, who was still watching you intently. You bend down to his height and take his little hands in your own.
“Hello, Izana. It’s lovley to meet you. I’ve brought my sister here to talk to you, wanna give it a shot?” His little head nods curiously, before you guide your sister over. Shinichiro orders everyone out of the living room, in favour of giving the two a comfortable atmosphere to discuss in.
Keiko was a bit older then Izana, with him only being seven whilst your sister was turning eleven this year, however you knew that they would click pretty quickly.
You offer to help make cookies for everyone to share, and with excitement in their eyes, the three sano siblings all eagerly get to work on making the perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies.
You and Keiko became a common sight at the Sano family house, with Izana becoming rather attached to your little sister. Itching at the oppourtunity, Keiko immediately took on her big sister role, and takes Izana out weekly to the park to play.
You find yourself talking to Shinichiro more, and in turn, he ends up coming to school slightly more often. The two of you are a SHOCK to the school, with most assuming the two of you would have it out for eachother. You helped him study, and in turn he made sure you had upmost protection when walking around at night.
You started attending his gang meetings as his honoured guest, and it was made known to the entirety of Black Dragons that you were of UPMOST priority. When you’re in the presence of the gang, not a scratch should lay on your skin, otherwise hell would be waiting.
You loved visiting his family, and his family loved you. Keiko would sometimes come too, for Izana, but it was often just you after school. You made sweets with them, cooked with them, helped them with schoolwork. You went to the arcade with them and even invited the three kids to go to the amusement park with your sister (mainly so you and shinichiro could go hang out together).
And just like that, a year had passed and it was valentines once more.
Love was, once again, floating around in the air. This year though, you had someone you desperately wanted to spend it with.
Shinichiro Sano.
School was nothing interesting. Well, I wish I could say that, however it WAS interesting.
BANG!!
The door to your classroom swings open with a hard hit, and the Shinichiro three lackys come tumbling in, dressed in their formal uniform.
“(Y/N), Let’s ride for a bit, Shin is waiting for us out the gate.” Takeomi grumbles, a knowing smirk on his face. All eyes were on the four of you.
“Boys, I can’t just miss class like you three, I actually have to graduATEEEEE-” lifted from your seat in courtesy of Keizo, you squeal as they abduct you from your learning. Hearing the commotion in the halls, many student come to watch what was going on.
By the time you four had made it to the gates, you had the entire school (including faculty bc let’s be real, they’re INVESTED) watching you.
The student council vice president with the Black Dragons??
Gently placed down, you notice Shinichiro standing tall and proud in his gang uniform. Then you finally see it. The ENTIRETY of the Black Dragon was standing behind him, all standing tall. Looking behind you, you notice his top three standing respectfully, as to not have their back towards their leader.
Nervously, you you walk towards the gang leader.
He meets you half way, and approaches you, a gentle smile on his face whilst still remaining proud.
He truly is mesmerising when he gets serious.
“(Y/N), I’m sorry for having your classes interrupted like this, but I thought “hey, why not invite the whole school watch me get rejected once more.”
HUH??
“Shinichiro, are you-” you’re cut off with the boy handing you a bouquet of roses, glitter shimmering on top of the petals. You’re then met with two men in uniform approaching you, a life sized teddy bear in their arms. Its fur is white with a red bow around its neck. It was massive.
And finally, Wakasa brings out a box of expensive chocolates. They look delicious.
And a slight tear is brought to your eyes.
“(Y/N), be my Valentine?”
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