#the idea of being able to etch your name onto something like that is so tantalizing to some that they're going to go for it
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moment's silence
#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]
— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.
Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.
— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3
All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.
"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."
He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.
Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:
"Anything."
Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."
If he never found a book, nothing would change.
If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.
That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.
You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.
Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.
Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.
It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—
Bookshelf.
One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.
It's not his thing.
Books — those are your thing.
Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).
It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.
Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.
Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.
That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.
"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.
He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."
"If my, uh... —
If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."
"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."
"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.
Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."
"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."
Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."
"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.
He does look.
One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".
He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.
They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.
"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.
It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.
Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.
If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?
When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.
That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.
Anything.
There was something Joel wanted, badly.
He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.
One second, you and Tess walked into his life.
The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.
You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.
In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.
Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.
Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.
Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.
He wanted you to be safe.
It was fucking ridiculous.
Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.
Quick, sharp, rational.
Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.
Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.
And here he was, facing Frankenstein.
Anything.
Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.
If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.
He couldn't fuck up this one.
Shit.
(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)
Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.
One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.
At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"
It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."
Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."
Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"
"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."
Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."
That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.
If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.
The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?
Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.
It's a nice one.
Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.
Bill's — he's okay.
Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.
He's also a little box of Pandora.
The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.
Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."
There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.
He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.
It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?
It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.
Either way, the book means you lost the bet.
Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER
The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.
Everything's open.
You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.
Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.
"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.
There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."
Tongue sharp as ever, then.
He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.
Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.
While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.
Stress cleaning — check.
"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"
"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.
The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.
You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.
Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.
"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"
"No, not yet."
Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"
"The one that intersects with the 5th?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"
He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."
"No way."
Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."
"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"
He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."
"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."
Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.
He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.
"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"
"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."
"Nah, we both know that's a lie."
"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."
Was he? Delusional.
Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.
After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.
Joel realizes that time passes only when you.
Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.
"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.
"What?"
"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.
"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.
After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"
Joel never says no to you.
Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.
It never came out.
He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.
The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.
He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.
You can't force her to stay outta business.
She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?
Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.
You do that when he sits on the couch.
Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.
When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.
"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.
Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.
"You're a shit liar," you say.
He scoffs. "No, I'm not."
"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."
At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.
"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.
In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."
"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.
"Something you told me I couldn't."
"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."
"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"
The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.
Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.
He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.
The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.
All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.
"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.
When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.
The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.
"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"
The way you breathe out the word.
A reverence. So sacred.
Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.
Kind of.
"It's whole," he confirms.
Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.
He's always comfortable in the silence with you.
That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.
When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.
Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.
He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.
You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.
"This means... you won the bet," you say.
Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."
"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"
Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.
Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.
"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."
You blink, utterly confused. "What?"
"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."
You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.
Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.
"Just tell me what you want," you say.
Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."
"How would you know?"
"I just do," he argues.
"Maybe you're wrong."
"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."
Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.
His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.
Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:
Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.
"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."
Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"
It hits him — the answer.
Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.
You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.
When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.
Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.
Joel sees it. He is delusional.
"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"
He's incapable of answering.
His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.
You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.
All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.
"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.
Joel meets you underwater.
The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.
It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.
Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.
Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.
Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.
Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.
He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.
He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.
Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.
Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.
This tastes like those moments.
It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.
It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—
He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.
Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.
Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.
Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.
Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.
He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.
With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.
"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.
All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.
He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —
"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.
When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.
He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.
This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.
Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—
When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.
"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.
"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."
"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"
Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.
Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.
"What?"
"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."
You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."
Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.
He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.
Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.
He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.
His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."
Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.
When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.
He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.
Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.
Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.
He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.
Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.
You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.
Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.
"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.
That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.
Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.
You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."
I need you, Joel.
"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."
"You want me on all fours?"
"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."
You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.
He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.
It's sinful how good the position is.
He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.
Your only response is his name.
"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"
"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.
He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.
He drags it out.
Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"
"Yes, please—"
"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."
"Don't stop," you cry out louder.
"I won't." He couldn't.
He doesn't want to. He doesn't.
Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.
When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —
He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.
He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.
He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.
Your fingers thread his hair during that time.
The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.
When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.
When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;
Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."
He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.
Joel thinks he might be dreaming.
"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.
Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.
"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.
There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.
"Scrambled."
"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."
"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"
"Yeah, baby?"
He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.
He laughs. "Fine by me."
🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖
⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back, you know... or what you thought of this one.. just saying... <3
#usernexusnyx#joel miller fic#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x you#joel miller drabble#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#nightskychallenge#joel miller fanfiction
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Could I request Wednesday with a male reader who's invisible? Maybe she's lamenting about not being able to actually see him.
Funny Enough I have something like this! They’re somewhat invisible but it would be better to call them a—
Ghost
Wednesday Addams X Male Reader
The sky was dark, blacker than usual. It was most likely due to the blood loss. Nevermores ground was seeped in your blood, You lied on the hard cold ground of nevermore, dying. A single stab wound to the stomach. You felt numb, cold, the rain slowly began to land on the ground and begin to welt on the earth, you slowly began to fade into the dark, before your eyes locked into one person, you couldn’t remember his name, only his last name is what was screaming into your brain.
“Gates.” You barely mutter, before it all went away. Death is an experience very very few can tell you about, due to how complicated it all is. But one thing is for certain, it isn’t always the end. As it was made plainly clear to you, 32 Years later.
Wednesday Addams. She sat in a dark room, dimly lit by candles around her as she held onto a black stone, reciting a dark chant into a hushed whisper. Her room door opens suddenly, knocking the candle lights out and calmly illuminating a single being beyond the door, Wednesday’s vision was limited by the smoke and dark but it sees she has her answer. Expecting her spectre, she was very disappointed to see it was her bubbly roommate, Enid Sinclair. Enid noticed that she was interrupting.. whatever Wednesday was doing.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your… Uh, do I even want to know?” Enid flatly gave up.
“I was reaching into the black maw of death to contact a relative.” Wednesday explained in her calm but deadpanned demeanor.
“Feels very on-brand for you.” Enid replies, walking over she noticed a name etched to the wood. Goody.
“You have a relative named Goody?” She inquired.
“She was one of the original outcasts.!Been attempting to summon her, but she seems to be ignoring my entreaties.” Wednesday explains.
“Oh, you thought about using one of my!scented candles? The aroma of steak tartare is to die for.” Enid offers and Wednesday folds her arms.
“Very.. hard pass. I just need to keep knocking, she will answer.” Wednesday said, confident, Enid was less so.
“Well, you might think you’ll invite someone you.. don’t want?” Enid said.
“Like you?” Wednesday always had. Knock for antisocial behavior.
“Funny. But I’m being serious, I heard from our Divinity teacher that opening a door on the other side might be hard to close.” Enid was obviously concerned for Wednesday, but little did she know, the door has already been breached.
In the void, an Empty darkness, You had awoken back up, but you could only see darkness, touching your face you felt nothing, as if you were and weren’t there at the same time. As this happens, night has crept up on Nevermore and the students are all sleeping in their dorms. Enid wasn’t, as the idea of a ghost haunting her room has kept her up, Wednesday was absolutely unbothered.
She peers from under her pink bed sheets to look around again, Enid hears the crack of a door and her eyes quickly dart over to the balcony door they have, a miasma of blue mist slowly emulated from the door, pouring in and Enid immediately was tossed into a panic, she hides under the covers, and then peeks out to a shadow, somehow standing outside. She covers her mouth before she could scream. She peeked over to Wednesday in a toss.
“Wednesday!! Wednesday!!!” She said, in fear and a whisper. Wednesdays eyes opened like a reanimated corpse.
“Enid, if you are waking me up at this time for something trivial—“ Wednesday started but Enid, on the verge of tears points to the balcony, Wednesday looks over as the shadow silenced her anger, it worked.
You rubbed your nonexistent eyes into the shadows began to fade, and you stood on the balcony of Nevermore, ironically enough it gave you the perfect view of where you died. In that ground, and for a moment your friends eyes flash before you. You looked at your hands, translucent and a loss of color, as if you came out of a photo from the 70’s. You had no real feeling in your body but you could sense someone’s presence. You calmly put your hands in your nonexistent pockets and turned around to face the approaching figure, your eyes lock with hers and you came face to face with a girl who looked almost as dead as you, pale skin, oddly deep black abyss eyes, and the cutest nose, but you pushed that last part to the back of your head. She was a mystery girl to you, it was obviously pretty awkward for the both of you. You decided to break the ice by asking arguably the dumbest question you could.
“Can I help you?” You said, the moment the words exited your lips you realized how dumb that sounded. She didn’t acknowledge your screw up and eyed you up and down.
“Are you meant to lead me in my ethereal conversation with Goody?” She asked, you had idea what the hell she was talking about.
“Goody?” You asked, confused. The girl looks away giving you a side eye.
“I suppose this is what Enid meant.” She then turned back to you, “I suppose I’ll be forced to exorcise you back to the depths of Hell.” She said plainly as if that isn’t going to be an absolutely painful experience.
“Or you don’t do that.” You suggest.
“Why not? You serve no purpose on helping me contact Goody Addams.”
Addams. That last name clicked something off in your brain, and it began to work its magic, you noticed that the girl is, oddly familiar looking. You leaned in as she took a step back, your translucent eyes glaze all over her.
“Hm.. you do look familiar.” You said, and she squints.
“That’s particular, because I do not know you.” She responds defensively.
“Yeah, you look like Morticia.” You said snapping your fingers, you knew you recognized the nose. “It’s the button nose and hair. I knew it looked familiar.”
“I unfortunately share the same genetics with my mother.” She admits, and the word mother hit you in the face like a baseball bat through your skull.
“Mother? You’re…” you trail off, unsure of how to feel. “Is your dad.. Gomez?” You asked, actually afraid of the answer.
“Yes.” She replies, and you for a moment for an odd psychosis of reality bending. You caught yourself and was in disbelief.
“I can’t believe those two.” You stammered. The girl raised an eyebrow. “What has you so enamured?” She slightly pouted.
“Because I know those two. They’re alive.” You jaded relief in your heart, happy that this wasn’t the end for them. The Mystery Girl was becoming less of a Mystery now.
“You knew my parents? How?” She asked and you showed your Old Nevermore uniform, and it clicks for her.
“Classmates.” The muttered.
“Long Story, but I know them.. I was just worried about what happened to them after…” you thought hard about it, after The Gates planned such a heinous crime.
“That’s not important… if you want to exorcise me, so be it.” You said, the girl hesitates before answering.
“Actually you might be of… some use.”
“..Huh..” you thought. “Okay.. how?” You asked.
“I could use an extra pair of eyes..especially ones that cannot be seen. Wednesday Addams.” She said, you gave her your name in return and accepted.
“That’s.. fine by me.” You mutter, you offer a handshake. “Deal?” You said, smirking. She doesn’t go for it. “I’m not an idiot I know you’d just phase though my hand.” She said blankly.
“Heh, your dad always thought it was funny.” You said, putting your hands in your pockets. “So… should I introduce myself to the girl cowering in those pink bedsheets?” You asked.
“Why bother with Enid?”
“Because she can see me, and it would be more civil.” You said and walk past Wednesday, you step into the room and hear the cowering in the bed. You stroll over and hear whimpering under it. “Oh, I must have startled you.. I’m sorry.” You knelt down to her bedside.
“Excuse me? Could, we talk?” You asked.. you waited as she slowly opened her covers to see her beautiful blue eyes. You smile and trying to look the least bit intimidating.
“Hello there, I’m sorry if I scared you.. didn’t mean to. I promise I’m not here to haunt your room or your roommate.” You reassure her, the girls eyes looked you up and down and she slowly sat up out of her bed.
“So, you aren’t gonna possess us?” She said. You raised an eyebrow wondering if you can even do that. “Of course not. I promise. I’m a family friend of Wednesday.” You said, The girl looks more relieved.
“That makes more sense.” She says, and leans in to whisper, “Shes.. really unique.” Enid said, which made you smile. “She definitely is.” You turned back to Wednesday who was a bit unsure about you, but now more confident.
“So.. what do you need help with exactly?” You asked, and Wednesday gave you a pretty harrowing answer.
“What do you know.. about the Gates family?” She said, a flurry of dark painful emotions poured into your soul and although you had no physical body the anger you felt was human, it was real.
“A lot.. and good riddance to them, because they’re the reason I’m dead.” You said in a haunting whisper.
“Interesting, we’ll have to converse more about this tomorrow, but tonight I must sleep, you may leave.” She orders.
“Leave.. where?” You reply. “It’s not like I can go back. And why would I need to leave anyway?” You ask, Wednesday looks past you.
“Because you’d be creeping late at night in a dorm with two girls.” She responds, which You didn’t have much of a response to.
“Well.. when you put it like that… fine.” You give in and walk to the door, calmly phasing though the door and sitting at the other side of the hall. You stare at the door, knowing that when it opens the next morning that this will be an adventure that you would have never expected to be a part of.
#male reader#netflix#wednesday#wednesday addams x male reader#wednesday x reader#reader insert#wednesday addams x reader#wedensday x you#enid sinclair
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Hi love I was wondering if you could please do a Shuri x black! fem!reader where the reader is jealous of riri but Shuri just reassured her with lots of fluff I’m so sorry if this is a bad idea but thank you for reading!!
𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞.
pairings : shuri x fem!reader.
" i don't care how long it takes,
as long as im with you ive got
a smile on my face. "
Your attention the whole day was on Shuri and that african-american girl she apparently saved. She hadn't even spent an hour with you this day because of how she clung onto 'Riri' the whole time.
How upsetting.
Yeah, yeah, Shuri had to protect the girl. But was she that into protecting the girl to the point she can't even spike up a conversation with you anymore? You were practically being taunted by their echoing laughter inside the laugh.
God you almost wanted to tear off your ears from its place.
It's not like that girl isn't capable of protecting herself after all. She has the brains to protect herself. She even created a whole Walmart version of Iron Man(no offense) for goodness sakes.
You rolled your eyes with a scoff when you hear Riri laughing at something Shuri says, tearing your eyes away from them. Okoye, who was standing beside you the whole time only looks at you unamused.
"This is a whole new side of you, (name)." She perks up. You peaked a glance at her direction, puffing out your cheeks childishly. At least someone still wanted to talk to you.
"I don't get what you mean."
Okoye gave you her usual taunting look, acting as of she was oblivious as well. "You're normally a laid back type of girl, but today.. You're scoffing, rolling your eyes, muttering and huffing alot." Okoye states.
You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. "It's nothing."
"You just did it again."
"Did what?"
"Scoff."
"I don't scoff."
"You do, and you just did."
"It's a habit."
"Right.." Okoye hums, not believing every word you're saying. She looked at the direction the Queen and Riri was, raising her brows at the scene, and then back at your sulking aura.
"Oh my.. is the tough, cool, laid back (name) jealous?" Okoye taunts, a big grin etching on her pretty face. Her spear remains next to her as she leaned closer to your face, watching as your reaction looked as if you were mortified.
"Jealous?! God, no. Ew." You hurriedly refused, shaking your head at the atrocious idea. You and jealous dont go well at all.
Okoye only looks at you dumbfoundedly with her brow still raised, her expressions practically screaming 'yeah right' in a taunting way.
"Seeing new versions of you is certainly entertaining." Okoye states, only getting on your nerves even more now. You irked at her, and suddenly the air was hot.
"I'm glad you think I'm entertaining."
"Oh no, not you. just the other personalities that we rarely see."
You let out a frustrated sigh. Okoye snickered at your frustration, leaning on the counter behind her. "You don't have to hide yourself, (name). Almost everyone on the Dora Milaje practically knows your feelings for the Queen."
"What feelings? Were just friends."
The general scoffs at that, shaking her head at you stubbornness. "Yeah, you've got somethings to figure out, huh? Goodluck on that." She snarked, spinning her spear before taking her leave, leaving you standing alone dumbfoundedly.
What was she on about? There was certainly nothing going on between you and the Queen. If something were, you're sure you would have just jumped off a cliff. You'd rather bring your feelings to the grave than make a literal embarrassment out of yourself.
Your gaze then went back to Shuri and Riri, seeing how they were still talking and certainly looked like they weren't stopping anytime soon. You blew raspberries, grabbing your own spear that laid on the white counter and walked away. Away from the sight of those two together.
It was almost dark out and Shuri haven't been able to talk to you yet. It seemed like you were avoiding her for some reason. Had she done something wrong? You looked upset when she came to greet you a hello earlier.
Okoye practically makes a face as the Queen continued to harshly drag a pencil on the table.
"Is something bothering you, Shuri?"
The said girl nods her head hurriedly at that, immediately dropping the pencil with a loud sound. "(name)'s been avoiding me, and she looks upset whenever I go near her. I saw that you two were talking with eachother earlier, so I assume you know." Shuri rambles.
Okoyes brows raised, surprised at the fast pace of speaking. "..Yes, the girl is upset.. and yes, we were talking earlier.. and yeah.. I do know why she's acting that way—"
"Why?"
Okoye hummed unsurely. Should she just say? If she does, you'd probably come storming towards her with your spear, looking like an angry bull ready to pounce.
"Well.."
"Well?" Shuri imitates, impatient.
"She was upset about how you weren't talking to her anymore. And by upset, I mean jealous." The general spills. Shuri pauses for a moment, letting the woman's words in her sink in.
"She's jealous? That doesn't sound like her."
"That's what I said as well. She doesn't like how you've been with Riri more often, that's all I know. I've said too much." The general mutters the last part, disappointed that she couldn't keep your small secret to herself for even a single day.
"...are you sure we're talking about the same person..?" Shuri questioned. Whatever the general was talking about didn't sound like you at all. What happened to the cool, laidback (name)?
"Yes. She said it to me herself, even I was surprised. But you didn't hear this from me, okay?" Okoye hissed, giving the queen an fierce 'understand me?' Look.
The Queen nods, unsure of what to do. But now, she has to try and find you to confront you about what you were upset with. Or shall she say, jealous.
Shuri finally finds you in the gardens, seeing you just standing over the flowers with the most bored look she's ever seen. She might be very tired right now, but she could've sworn she heard you talking to the soft colored petals.
"Hi."
You swiftly stood up, a surprised look on your face at the sudden sound of a familiar voice. "Shuri? Hi!" You greeted at an unnecessarily loud volume. Yes, you were in fact talking to the flowers. If the Queen heard you, you might as well just drop down on the ground right now.
"I noticed you've been ignoring me." And at the Queen's words, your mood drastically changed. You looked at her blankly, as if remembering her actions earlier.
"Oh yeah."
Shuri slightly tilts her head at that, unsure of what to say. "..so, is that a yes about you ignoring me..?"
"Yeah."
The Queen was amused by your straight-forwardness. She let's a smug and amused grin show on her face, looking at you up and down. "Okoye told me why."
"She did?," You perked up, and the as if a light switch just flicked inside you, you realized what she said. "She what?!" You incredulously yelled. Shuri chuckles at your shock, noticing you slowly begun to feel an embarrassed furiousity.
"I've got to say, jealousy somehow doesn't fit you, but it is amusing." The Queen states, watching as you looked at her in annoyance.
"If you're here to pick on me, then I'm gonna go take my leave." You huffed, gripping on your spear with annoyance. Shuri stops you from walking away, looking at you apologetically.
"I'm just kidding around. Please don't leave, I'm not here to pick on you." She pleads. You hummed, pleased by her change of persona.
"Go on."
"I get why you're jealous, and I'm sorry. But I promise you, I won't do that shit ever again. You're the only one for me, (name)."
"You make it sound like we're together." You mentioned, completely unserious of the situation. Shuri looks at you, confused. "We aren't?" She questioned, raising a brow.
Your whole body stopped momentarily, letting her words sink into your thick skull. "What's that supposed to mean..?" You hissed, flustered. Shuri let's a coy smile form on her face.
"I'm saying I like you."
Your jaw dropped slightly, not believing your ears. The Queen of Wakanda, is out here, confessing her feelings for you like it's nothing.
Shuri steps closer to you, looming over your slightly shorter form. "You don't have to respond to my confession now, I completely understand, but I just wanted you to know about my feelings."
"I'll understand if you don't reciprocate my feelings, but im done pretending like my feelings for you don't exist. I like you, (name), not her. Not Riri. I wouldn't dare replace you with her after all the things we've been through together."
You felt like the air in your lungs had been knocked out. Shuri had just spilled her feelings out for you and you could barely react. You were speechless, you didn't know how to react.
You can't even figure out your own feelings yet, how do you respond.
Seeing your pressured expressions, Shuri gives you a reassuring look, grabbing your attention once again by holding your hand with her own. "You can think about it, 'kay?"
You only stood still. Shuri let's go of your hand, although she was disappointed, she couldn't force yourself to respond to her sudden confession. She turns around, beginning to walk away.
You wanted to reach out to her hand when she began walking away from you. You wanted to hold her hand and tell her your feelings as well. You wanted to tell her you like her.
But you can't.
yet.
idfk how the hell this turned into Shuri confessing instead of fluff wtf😭 also no hate directed to riri<3
#shuri x reader#black panther shuri#fanfiction#shuri black panther#princess shuri#shuri udaku#character x reader#black panther wakanda forever#reader insert#fanfic#wakanda forever shuri#wakanda forever#black panther fanfiction#black panther#—aoifics
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disclaimer: this spawned off a twitter thread i made a while back, which itself came from something i’d noticed time and again within the xiv community: the idea that photography isn’t possible there. i’ve seen this a few times, and ultimately what i felt to be the truer statement is that digital photography as we know it in our phones, no. that is not a very accessible thing. most eorzeans aren’t getting a garland ironworks tomephone.
but that doesn’t mean they aren’t taking pictures.
A Case for Eorzean Photography
In the case of our modern world, the art of capturing an image onto paper directly from life dates back to the 1820s. It was called heliography. A wikipedia article on it can be found here. Heliography came about because its inventor wished for an efficient way to reproduce lithographs, engravings, and relief prints, three different illustration styles that had existed by now for varying lengths of time, but all still in use and being the choice method for adding images to text. I’m going to give a short bit of information on each style, because they are also very likely quite prevalent.
Woodcut (Relief)
Woodcut is as its name implies -- you carve your image into a block of wood, coat the raised portions with ink, and then use it in the press. Accessible to learn, accessible to do, if you want rp flavor there’s likely illustrators in every city-state employing this for the newspapers or illustrated editions of books.
Intaglio (Engraving)
Intaglio is my favorite printmaking method for illustrations, and probably also my favorite for FF14 because it involves playing with chemicals! Let’s get the alchemist roleplayers we know something cool to do. Anyway, with intaglio you’re using acid to burn an image into a metal plate, and the deeper the etchings the darker the shadows. Great for values, great for depth, and have I mentioned you’re just being a little scientist and an artist at the same time?
Lithography
Lithography is the one you’ve seen the most, even if you aren’t 100% sure how it works. It became very popular in the late 19th and early 20th century -- if you’ve ever gawked at vintage illustrations by Mucha or Leyendecker, those are lithographs! Some of the big plates used for them are just big rocks! Miners could 100% mine up limestone slabs for this.
Anyway, back to photographs. After heliographs cracked the capture nut suddenly everyone was getting in on it. People were mixing all kinds of chemicals to capture the world as it was at a moment onto a plate of glass (or others! they liked silver too).
Physautotypes used lavender oil as its photosensitive agent. Tree resin was also popular. Both things botanists would routinely be able to harvest and crafters able to distill. I can only imagine how it smelled to make photographs with this, I hope it was nice!
About 20 years after the earliest heliograph came daguerrotypes. Made on silver plates with a copper substrate, daguerrotypes were pricy but popular -- and they had their own special camera made rather than using a camera obscura.
Daguerrotypes were also when spirit photography came into prominence.
youtube
Ambrotypes came on the heels of daguerrotypes as a cheaper alternative made with less costly materials, and was followed by their even cheaper brethren the tintypes. Bit by bit, photographs were becoming more accessible -- not always the equipment (or the supplies), but in terms of a person or group of people having a portrait made you were starting to see that become more common.
Ambrotype above, tintype below
Let it be said also that less costly materials does not mean lower quality image -- each method had its own charm. Tintypes were sturdier than ambrotypes, but both developed quicker than daguerrotypes. Ambrotypes could also have spot colors added to them!
Albumen prints made it to paper, and until we went digital that’s where photographs stayed, on paper! And one of their key binding materials was made from eggs, beautifully common eggs.
So Where Does This Leave Eorzea?
So why did I go into this much detail, with visual examples and links to references that include their materials? Because all these materials exist already within FFXIV. Glass, plates, the types of metals used, the types of chemicals.
They’re part of crafting logs, and gathering leves, and dungeon drops. Alchemists can make these chemical components, goldsmith quests have you making lenses and other more delicate mechanisms, carpenters could easily build boxes for camera obscura (and cameras!).
Different styles of photography and different materials used for them reflect availability of the materials -- where does this character live, what are their cultural beliefs, do they travel much outside of their home region? How much money do they have?
What if using unaspected crystals creates a different effect on the plate? With the right kind of aetherial charge, don’t you think you could photograph ghosts in actuality rather than trickery? There’s a whole quest in 1.0 where an NPC sees the ghost of the city of Sil’dih -- a ghost city!
At any rate, I just think it’s neat to look at what materials exist in this game, and how things from this world may translate to that with the understanding it will not be 21st century. We have a lot of technology that’s existed longer than we sometimes recall or acknowledge -- and it’s good material! Use that stuff! Have fun with it!
#not really lore so much as half mad rambling#this and discussions about printing have been a pet peeve for me for years#god don't get me started on banri oda talking about copy books with glamour prisms don't do it
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On Stranger Tides
Pairing: Scarlet Witch x Fem!Reader // Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader // Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader
Summary: This wasn’t your best friend-- not anymore-- but as you stare in the green gaze, flecked with shimmering red, you couldn’t stop the feelings that plagued your mind. Of everything that could have been if you both had been strong enough. (Based off this request.)
Word Count: 1,780
Warnings: Angst (with a hopeful ending).
Author’s Note: I hope I gave your idea some justice, as I absolutely adore it, and that you enjoy reading this! My original idea for this shifted as I began writing for it, but I enjoy the direction it ended up taking. (Maybe, I’ll write my original idea for this one day too.)
“There’s no need to hide from me, Y/N/N.” The almost teasing voice calls out from the darkness; its cadence being one that you’d recognize from anywhere, but the almost frigid undertones was something you would never be able to rationalize as belonging to your best friend. Faint flashes of red follow as the figure gets closer and closer to where you were pressed up on the ramshackle remains of a house. “I won’t hurt you; I promise.”
You knew your heart was practically in your throat at this point-- fear making your body freeze-- as the footsteps grow closer. This was just a big game to her, as you knew she knew where you were, but she wanted to make you squirm. She wanted you to know, to understand, that no matter where you went, she would find you.
“You finally get it know, detka.” Warm breath ghosts across the shell of your ear, and you fight the instinctive reaction to flee; it was pointless now. There wasn’t anywhere else left to run. The answering chuckle was the final nail in the coffin to that point. All you can do is watch as your best friend kneels down in front of you; her multi-colored gaze never wavers from your own as she, almost reverently, cups your face. “You finally understand that there’s not a universe I wouldn’t find if it meant having you. A universe that I wouldn’t destroy if it meant that I got even one more moment with you.”
“Wanda--”
A snarl erupts from her lips, her head shaking almost violently, as her grip tightens ever-so-slightly on your cheek. “Don’t say my name like that, detka.” Her nose wrinkles with disgust as she practically spits out her next words. “As if I’m some sort of charity case you need to help. I’m not someone you should pity, Y/N, we both know this.”
Your heart cracks at the declaration. You know that Wanda had been through so much, suffered more than anyone should, but you can’t comprehend that it had ended up like this. Where her familiar green gaze was as alien to you as Titan had been; the usual comfort you felt dissipating as Wanda’s magic began to take control of her. It was a sight that brought tears to your eyes as you know the damage had been slowly wearing her down for years; it was only a matter of time before everything crumbled into dust.
Wanda’s eyes flare red-- the presence of her in your mind becoming tantamount-- as another snarl rips from her lips. “I’m exactly what I need to be, detka.” Despite the harshness of her words, that rip through you like sharpened daggers, her hold on your cheek remains loose; or looser than it had been previously. “I’m exactly what I’ve always needed to be in order to have you.”
Tears prick the corner of your eyes at her words, you couldn’t voice all the thoughts that were running rampant through your mind-- not that it would matter in the end if Wanda had her way-- but you know your devastation was etched clearly onto your face.
“Why--” You clear your throat against the onslaught of emotions that try to stifle your voice. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner, Wanda? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You don’t think I tried?” The Sokovian questions, her eyes narrowed into slits as her own displeasure makes itself known. “I tried for years to make you notice me, but I was never enough.” Wanda settles back on her heels, the sudden absence of her touch brings a chill down your spine, as she runs a frazzled hand through her hair. “Apparently I wasn’t the magic user you envisioned yourself with.”
At the mention of Stephen, you flinch. Images of bright blue eyes staring at you with guarded affection, salt-and-pepper hair tousled by the wind, a smile that became more and more genuine as time wore on, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your body as he held you tight. You had never imagined yourself with anyone, but Stephen had snuck into your heart just like you had done to him.
“Enough,” Wanda hisses, her face contorted with misery as she’s privy to all of your memories with him. “I refuse to lose you to the likes of him. Not when I know I can treat you better. That I would move the heavens and earth if it meant keeping you by my side. You just have to give me a chance.”
The thought of being with Wanda was always in the back of your mind; a constant taunt that haunted you as it hammered home the point that you’d never get to be with the gorgeous Sokovian. Now, Wanda was offering you everything you had always wanted, on her knees before you, as she clearly paints out the picture that she’s been in love with you too. That she has always wanted you just as you have wanted her. If this had been only a few months before then you would have jumped at the chance, but it wasn’t, and you weren’t in the same place you were back then.
You couldn’t betray Stephen in that way. Couldn’t bring yourself to break his heart after you had promised to take care of it.
“Wands.” You try not to break as the old nickname falls from your lips; bringing memories of a time you’d never get back to the forefront of your mind. “You know that I can’t. I can’t turn my back on everything that I’ve fought so hard for, I can’t turn my back on my morals, and I can’t turn my back on the people who are counting on me back home.”
Her brows furrow. “But you can turn your back on me?”
You shake your head at that; you could never imagine doing that to her. “Never, Wands,” you murmur, shifting from your seated position onto your knees-- mirroring her-- as you gently place your hand on her knee. “I will never turn my back on you, but I can’t be what you want me to be. Not right now.”
Hope blossoms in her relatively lifeless eyes. The spark allows you to see that your Wanda was still in there; just hiding behind her magic to not have to bear the brunt of the pain anymore. “You’re saying that I have a chance?” She tilts her head in the way that always makes you want to hold her. “That we might be able to have a someday?”
An answer doesn’t come to mind right away, but you know what it was long before you could find the words. “Yes,” you agree softly, offering her a timid smile. “I think we can have a someday, but I want you to find yourself again. I want you to find what makes you happy and go from there.”
“You make me happy.”
Fighting the urge to melt-- Wanda always knew how to do that to you-- a gentle, yet firm, touch is applied to her cheek to make her meet your gaze fully once more as it had dropped when you had been speaking. “You make me happy too, Wanda, but I want you to figure out how to be happy without me too. I want you to have a reason to live on.”
There’s a moment of silence before Wanda’s lips quirk into a slight smile. “Are you telling me to get a hobby, Y/N/N?”
Laughter-- pure, unadulterated laughter-- spills from your mouth at the words. It was such a Wanda thing to say, and you didn’t know how much you missed hearing your best friends teasing voice until now. You hadn’t even realized you had been drowning without them. Hearing them now?
It was like a breath of fresh air.
At your joy, Wanda’s countenance softens as her eyes finally shift from fluctuating red-green to the pure green you had grown to adore. Her hand, once again, rests on your cheek as a look of pure adoration flits across her face; a look you hadn’t been privy to in a long time.
“I promise,” she murmurs, whisps of auburn hair falling around you as she presses her forehead against yours. “I promise I will make myself worthy of your love once more. I promise I will find you again and we will have our someday.”
Your hands shakily grasp at her back, pulling her as close as your current positions could allow, as you nuzzle your nose against hers; letting yourself live in the moment, forgetting about everything else, just this once. “You will always be worthy of my love, Wanda.” You press the lightest of kisses to her full lips-- pulling away before it can grow anywhere past chaste-- as you frame her beautiful face in your hands. “You just need to find it within yourself to be worthy of your own. To find the light within yourself that I have always seen.”
Wanda lets loose a watery chuckle as she disengages from you-- causing your eyes to flutter shut at the reality that was crashing down onto you-- as the both of you were well aware that your time alone was up, which leaves you cold without her warmth. Without her familiar, and grounding, scent soothing you in a way you hadn’t been in years.
You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, couldn’t bring yourself to see that she was truly gone as the sound of portals opening surround you-- Stephen had finally come-- as you fight through the heartache that wished to drown you once more. You knew that this was for the best but that didn’t make anything easier.
Her last words, that had been whispered against your ear like a phantom caress, replaying within your mind: “I will find you, detka, and I will make sure we will have the happily ever after that was taken from us. I love you.”
‘I love you’, you mouth the words as you lean back against the decrepit wall. It was the sweetest thing she had ever said to you-- a message that would haunt your dreams until you were able to see her emerald gaze once more-- and it filled you with hope, however misguided it may be, that maybe your someday will happen.
That one day your best friend would return to you, and everything will right itself with the world. For now?
You just had to roll with the everchanging tides of the sea that was your life. Simply hoping for the best.
Hoping for your someday to become your forever.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff imagine#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch#scarlet witch imagine#stephen strange x reader#stephen strange x female reader#mcu imagine#marvel imagines#avengers imagine#on stranger tides
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Hello!
Can I request a TADC X NiGHTS Fic please? In which NiGHTS meets everyone
Ooh! Nice!
In the Digital World, everyone was fast asleep. While it was true that they didn't need to sleep, it did feel nice to kick back and relax after a long day. But, despite all of this, whenever they slept, they would dream.
And dream they did on one particular night.
When they awoke, they found themselves no longer in their rooms, but in a strange world that wasn't there.
"Wait, where are we?" Ragatha asked, looking around. "How did we even get here?"
"Is there an insect collection here?" Kinger asked.
"Well, what do we have here?" A female voice asked, grabbing all of the group's attention. Everyone turned and saw a flying…humanoid being with a purple striped jester hat approaching them. They had a playful smile etched onto their face.
"Oh, look," Jax said teasingly to Pomni. "Another jester like you, Pomni. Isn't that convenient?"
"Jax…" Zooble warned, slightly glaring at him. "We have a new guest. So be nice."
"Woah!" The being blinked in astonishment. "I've never seen Visitors look so colorful!"
"We come from a different world," Gangle said. "I'm Gangle. Who might you be?"
"I am NiGHTS," NiGHTS replied in a proud tone. "Guardian of this place; the Night Dimension!"
"So that's where we are?" Ragatha asked.
"You bet, Visitor." NiGHTS formed a relaxed position while flying. "This dimension is not like any other place you've been to before. In order for you to access this place, you have to be asleep. In other words, you guys came here when you started dreaming. Hence why this place is also known as The World Of Dreams."
"So what happens in this "dream world", NiGHTS?" Caine asked.
"Pretty much anything can happen," NiGHTS said. "Whatever you Visitors dream of, I'll be able to see." They looked at the group of six. "Say, I haven't caught your names. Aside from Gangle's, that is."
"Why, I am Caine," Caine introduced. "I am a ringmaster of The Amazing Digital Circus! From left to right are Kinger, Zooble, Pomni, Ragatha, and Jax!"
"Say, NiGHTS?" Jax asked, grinning mischievously. "Do you like pranks? This Balan man told me you did."
"Ah, I see you've met my two cousins, Balan and Lance!" NiGHTS flew closer to Jax. "But to answer your question, I sure do!"
"Balan also revealed that he had another cousin…" Zooble pointed out.
"He was talking about my evil twin sibling, Reala," NiGHTS replied, frowning. They crossed their arms. "Frankly, I think it's a good thing you've never met him."
"J-Just to be on the safe side, where is this Reala person?" Pomni asked, stuttering.
"If he's not in his domain or Nightmare, he's probably in his girlfriend's Nightopia giving her a kissing session." NiGHTS chuckled at the last part.
"Nightmare? Nightopia?" Gangle asked. "What are those places?"
"I didn't know your evil sibling has a girlfriend," Jax said. "Now that just gives me ideas." He chuckled.
"Well, Nightmare is one place that you guys do not want to go to," NiGHTS explained. "Ever. It's practically the birthplace of fear itself in my opinion. As for Nightopia? It's a paradise that is created from a Visitor's heart. In order for it to happen, the Visitor must have something called Ideya."
"And what exactly is Ideya?" Ragatha asked.
NiGHTS smiled. "I think it would be better that I show you guys."
#nights journey of dreams#nights#the amazing digital circus#jax#ragatha#pomni#caine#kinger#zooble#gangle#fanfic
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That's All She Wrote - Chapter 18 (Part 2)
Previous chapter
Find me on wattpad + ao3!
Show: Big Time Rush
Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character
Chapter 18: Jump Then Fall (1.18 - Part 2) ~ 13k
“So… There might have been a few things I lied to you and your dad about.”
Those were certainly the words Roxy wanted James to say to her as they stood outside the door to apartment 2-J.
After a particularly harrowing plane ride, something about it being a red-eye flight had made it far worse for Roxy’s airsickness, the only thing she wanted to do at the moment was get all her stuff into her apartment and take a nice, long nap in her wonderful, fluffy bed. It had been quite some time since she last slept and since James had been kind enough to stay up on the flight to make sure she was okay, she assumed he wasn’t feeling all that great either.
In lieu of a response, the girl only coked her head.
“First of all, it doesn’t seem like Hawk has the same kind of funding Gustavo has… So when we visit the record company tomorrow, I’m not sure how much he’ll be willing to pay you for your, um, assistant job.”
She wasn’t fond of how easily he had cut “songwriter” out of her job title, but Hollywood was Hollywood. It’s not like she was a songwriter-assistant when she first started at Rocque Records, simply an assistant who also wrote songs. There, Roxy had earned her title and she would gladly do it all over again if it got her closer to the music James would be making.
“Next, here’s your room key.”
Holding up the small brass key, James flashed a sweet smile before dropping it into her palm. Upon closer examination, she noticed 2-J etched into the bow when she nervously twirled it around between her fingers.
It made her laugh a bit, before she held it back out to him, pointing at the other key he was holding. “You mixed them up, silly, this is the one for your apartment. Give me the one you’re holding.”
Silly? Since when am I the kind of person to say ‘“silly?”
“Remember what I just said about funding? One newly renovated room at the Palm Woods is cheaper than two.” The boy deadpanned, taking the key in his hand and sliding it into the lock. “Welcome to Casa Diamond-Somerset.”
At the notion of sharing a hyphenated last name, Roxy had to steady herself on the handle of her suitcase.
“Ah…” The writer gently said, following him into the refurbished apartment as she did her best to look anywhere besides where James was standing.
Instead of the traditional Crib she had been so used to spending her days in - bright, flashing arcade games, guitars lining the wall, giant, yellow swirly slide - she was met with a modern sleek-style layout. Dark oak floors with ocean blue and stainless cool grey steel accents were littered around the apartment, complete with a large portrait of the wannabe on the back wall of the apartment… James had 2-J transformed into the bachelor pad of his dreams without even consulting his brand-new roommate.
All she was able to manage to get out as she gazed up at his gigantic picture was, “Good thing you didn’t mention that bit to my dad.”
“It’s probably a good idea to keep it that way since my mom isn’t coming, either.”
At this point, Roxy had done a pretty good job at concealing the slight tremor popping up as she spoke, and her shaking hands gripping the box of tapes she had carried up to the moving van to kept any unsettled movement from showing, but with that new piece of information, all her progress was lost in a matter of moments.
“W-what?”
The box practically slipped through her fingers, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Most of the tapes overflowing the top of the box clattered out onto the wood, scattering this way and that under the new modern appliances and furniture Hawk had installed.
“Aw, Roxy, are you that tired? Why don’t you go pick out one of the rooms and go to bed or something - you look like you’ve been up for ages.”
She had been up for ages, considering she couldn’t sleep when the only night they spent back in Minnesota was interrupted by an impromptu cross-country flight with an expected layover, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. Squatting down to pick up as many of her tapes as she could, she did her best not to dwell on the fact that she and James were now both living and working together. That, and the concern she felt radiating off his words.
I need to see Jo and Camille, was her first thought, but considering their flight had landed around 3 am and she was still fighting off the jetlag, she decided to heed James’ advice.
“Good idea.” The assistant smiled toward the ground, finally standing again once she had gathered what she had dropped. “I’ll probably take Carlos and Logan’s room… It’ll be nice to have a window facing the pool.”
For a moment, James' smile flickered at the mention of their friends. “Got it… I’m gonna try out the new entertainment system; I’ll keep the volume low so it doesn’t wake you.”
With a thumbs up, she went to grab the handle on her suitcase and move towards the hallway, but James cleared his throat.
“Oh, I forgot, to tell you, Hawk mentioned I’ll have some sort of butler on retainer, so he’ll be here in the morning.”
In response, the girl yawned and nodded, even with her back turned to him.
Finally getting down the hall, she turned left at the door that connected 2-H and 2-J and into the new space she would be calling her own.
When Roxy flipped the light on, the emptiness of the room startled her.
Only one day ago, the colorfully painted walls held decorations fit to both Logan and Carlos’ tastes - sports posters, science diagrams, pin-ups of beautiful movie stars - and now, it was empty, void of any signs that anyone had lived there up until now. Logan’s overflowing bookshelf was missing from its usual corner, Carlos’ hockey jersey display and helmet rack weren’t hanging beside the window, and the glow-in-the-dark stars she had put up for them their first week in town while precariously balancing on James’ shoulders were nowhere to be found.
It’s wrong. She told herself. This is wrong. All of it. Everything.
Barely even setting her things down, Roxy found her legs moving without her permission, dragging her back out straight through the hallway, and into James and Kendall’s room.
Similar to what she had found in the other room, this space was also lacking signs of life. Kendall’s neatly lined binders of sports trading cards were absent from the nightstand beside his old twin bed, not to mention the disappearance of the framed pictures of him and Jo covering the walls above it. The vanity James had installed on the opposite side of the room by his bed was also gone, most likely moved into the master bedroom by Hawk’s renovations, though there was still the faint smell of his cologne hanging in the thick air.
I can’t do this.
Now Roxy was on the move again, pacing back to the other room and picking up the only CD in her box of tapes she had been desperately trying to hide from herself. If she hadn’t dropped everything BTR, Big Time Rush’s first and only album, wouldn’t have made its way from the bottom of the pile to the top. Holding on tightly to the sides of the plastic jewel case, the girl blinked back the well of tears filling her eyes and ignored the pain knotting her insides as she stared at her friend’s smiling faces.
James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan all looked right back at her and the memories of their months in Los Angeles came flooding into her mind. From being fired on their first day at Rocque Records, to meeting Jo and Camille, to mansion-sitting, to chimp-napping Lo-Lo, to every other little thing that made their time together so special…
Hardly able to control where her mind was spirling, the girl found herself tearing through the hallway and into the living room, not stopping until she found herself directly in front of a very confused James who was trying to get through a round of Biohazard Blast.
“Roxy?” He tried, squinting at her before setting down the platinum controller. “Is everything-”
Flinging her arms around his neck, she practically fell into him, feeling the soft plush of the couch break their fall. Right now, nothing about how she felt about him mattered; she needed a friend, one of her best friends, to hold her, and tell her everything was going to be okay.
“We can’t do this without them. It’s not right.”
A light stream of tears began to flow down her cheeks as she buried her head into the crook of James’ neck.
Beneath her, she could feel his muscles tense, from shock at her actions or anger at her words, she didn’t know, but after a few moments of processing, James wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. His game all but forgotten, the boy gently rubbed circles on her lower back, giving her time to get all her emotions out.
All the alarms that normally set off in her head, telling her she was too close, too emotional, too irrational, dissipated at his comforting touch. The warmth radiating off his fingertips combatted the chill from the air-conditioning vent blasting air out above them; the only sound heard in the room over the sobs raking Roxy’s body.
“We’re in this together, okay? You and me, Roxy. That’s all we need.”
Time seemed to blur for her, his hands on her back, running through her hair, wiping the drops streaming down her cheeks, until eventually, she didn’t feel anything at all - just the calming lull of sleep beginning to overtake her senses as she finally closed her eyes, allowing her body to tell her exactly what she needed.
***
At the sound of an annoyingly loud gong going off, Roxy felt her pillow shift under her as she snuggled deeper into it, squeezing the sides to fluff up the area in which she laid her head.
Despite not opening her eyes, she could lazily tell the sun had risen as the sunlight flooded through the window and reflected on the back of her eyelids.
Perfectly cozy, she tried to drift back into sleep before she heard, “Rox, I’m not gonna be able to breathe in a second.”
Her eyes shot open, the memory of last night filling her mind.
Where did I end up?
The answer, of course, was on top of James Diamond.
Sharp rapping at the door brought her out of her head as she sat up, scrambling onto the cushions of the black couch as fast as humanly possible. Trying to look anywhere but the couch below her, she glanced toward the windows only to find the large portrait of James staring back at her.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Thankfully, he didn’t say anything more as he slowly picked himself off the cushions and trudged towards the door, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
With his back turned to her, the assistant was able to slip out of the room and back into the one she was supposed to have taken refuge in; a million thoughts running through her head, mostly centering on how good his arms felt as they had tightly encircled her, how hot his hand felt as it settled on the center of her back under her loose t-shirt.
There was the sound of a handful of individuals speaking in the other room, but for now, Roxy just tried to run through the events of last night. It wasn’t like her to do anything like that, yet, for some reason she had, and it sent her insides spirling into a twisting, turning mess. What few thoughts ran through her brain were hard to decipher, but they all lead down the path to What will he think of me? and I need Camille and Jo.
Kicking the pile of items she had left in the room from the night before, the girl frantically searched for her phone inside her bag, which she quickly found underneath the sweatshirt she had worn on the plane.
When she opened it, she noticed first of all, that it was the middle of the afternoon, and second, that she had a handful of unread messages from every single one of her friends.
One day back in Hollywood and she had wasted half of it sleeping in when she should be helping James grow into the pop star he deserved to be.
Ignoring the messages from the boys back in Minnesota, she quickly scanned through the group chat she shared with Jo and Camille.
J: Bitters just told us the worst thing…
C: he came right up to us at the pool, grimace on his face, and told us you and james moved back into the palm woods
J: But we said that obviously couldn’t be true considering you didn’t tell us at all!
C: as if he could prank us that easily
Those messages had been sent mere hours ago and when Roxy moved to type out her own message, she couldn’t even begin to formulate all that she wanted to say.
R: Hi, Bitters is right. We got back into town early, early this morning and I ended up sleeping in much later than I wanted to
R: I really need to see you guys, when can we meet up :)
While their responses were normally immediate, she didn’t receive any back in the usually short time span.
So, until they did, she resigned herself to get ready for the upcoming day and map out their schedule for their meeting with Hawk in the afternoon.
Though she hadn’t spoken to him at all herself, James described him as an odd man who was very obsessed with himself - which she thought to be quite funny coming from the wannabe. As he had told her, Hawk’s scheduling was much different than Gustavo’s, preferring to work in the afternoon rather than the morning. While everyone in Hollywood certainly worked in different ways, she found it strange she hadn’t even met the man responsible for bringing her back to L.A. yet and eagerly looked forward to their meeting.
After making it through her morning routine, Roxy made her way into the front room in order to reach the bathroom through the kitchen, but instead found a pair of sushi chefs clogging up the walkway as they prepared James’ lunch.
I need to speak with Hawk about his overspending…
“Sebastian! Stop the car,” She heard James call, spotting him back in front of the TV, however, this time, an older man was sitting in front of him holding a remote control steering wheel. While her friend had taken time to change into a nice, blue robe to kick back in, Sebastian was dressed in a very sharp gray and black uniform. “There’s someone I need you to meet.”
The girl wasn’t able to squeeze through the fast-paced chefs running around the kitchen before James caught her arm and pulled her over to meet his new butler. At his touch, she felt her heartbeat quicken and did her best to keep her breathing under control as he presented her to the man in front of her.
“This is Roxanne - Roxy - Somerset! Anything she needs, she gets… Got it? Oh, and speaking of there's someone else here you need to meet…”
Whatever he said next, Roxy accidentally tuned out as his words inadvertently sent her heart into overdrive once more. Sebastian was his butler, after all, that was a very thoughtful request of him to make.
Anything I want, I get… And if I want our friends back?
“Of course, Sir,” Sebastian answered in a perfect British accent, giving Roxy a small bow.
At his actions, the girl held out her hands, shaking them in an attempt to stop his motion, “Oh- Oh, wow, that’s too much, Mr. Sebastian… I’m here to help James, just like you.”
“Would you like me to ask the chefs to prepare you a meal as well, Miss?”
That seemed like quite a bizarre question.
“They’re… Right behind me… I can ask myself.” Turning her head to the boy beside her she chided, “Don’t let this newfound fame go to your head. You’re not too good to speak to anyone in this room.”
Shrugging, the wannabe brushed her off, “He’s just doing his job. Speaking of, wanna take a drive through L.A. with me? We’ve got it all hooked up to the TV.”
Buzz buzz
Having to ignore her messages for a minute, despite how her hand twitched to grab her phone from her back pocket as it buzzed, Roxy cocked her head, confused.
“The game is quite fun, Miss. Much easier than driving around the real streets of Los Angeles.”
What she wanted to say next was swiftly cut off by the sound of the gong doorbell once again resounding off the walls of the apartment.
“Sebastian, can you get that? I want to try my hand at a dramatic entrance from the staircase!” James called, reminding Roxy of his usual self as he ran up the steel steps to the loft once housing the swirly slide.
Without anywhere to go herself, the assistant resigned to take a seat at the breakfast bar to relax for a moment and check her phone.
C: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE BACK?
J: So weird, Carlos, Logan, and Kendall stopped by to say hello before you did…
R: Not fair to try and prank me either :( Where are you two?
When Sebastian opened the door, Roxy heard a collection of shocked gasps.
“May I help you?”
“Yeah…” A familiar voice spoke out, though with a very questioning tone as he looked into his former apartment. “We’re looking for Roxy and James.”
In a flash, the girl was out of her chair, listening to Sebastian invite the newcomers in.
Once the man moved, Roxy found herself smiling ear-to-ear as she gazed upon Logan, Carlos, and Kendall.
Anything I want, I get.
“You came!” She practically screamed, launching herself into Logan and nearly toppling him over through sheer force.
After a small “oof!” Logan was happy to return her hug, “Well, considering you called us about a hundred times, we figured you were up to something important.”
“A text message works just as well!” Carlos added, practically pulling his friend off of Logan and into his own arms.
“Sure,” She jokingly grumbled, “I was just a little bit upset with you three.”
Rolling his eyes, Kendall let out a small chuckle as Roxy let go of Carlos and wrapped her arms around his waist, “Understandable, but we did make the right choice in the end! Now… what did James do to our old apartment?”
“Irasshaimase!” The two chefs in the kitchen called, welcoming them to the space and holding up full plates of food.
It startled the boys, causing their heads to turn and examine the new, tricked-out kitchen, with Logan expertly stating, “Those are sushi chefs…”
“Well, our producer is doing all he can to make sure his new star client is happy - including feeding him his favorite food 24/7.” The girl shared, gesturing towards James, who was now dramatically making his way down the steel stairs.
This, however, was the least interesting thing about where Roxy was motioning as Carlos let out a small scream, “Oh! What happened to Swirly?”
His comments were quickly forgotten as James practically skipped down the stairs toward his friends, a smile plastered to his face, who he also wasn’t expecting to see so soon, “Hey! What are you guys doing here?”
It warmed the writer’s heart to see him so happy to see the boys, but felt her stomach drop when he tried to mask his smile with a distinct frown, “I mean… What are you guys doing here?”
“Big Time Rush is back together!” Kendall proudly shared, glancing between the pair as the news set in.
“What?!” Roxy whipped around, eyes wide as she found herself jumping up and down in excitement. “That’s incredible!”
“Yes! So…” Logan gave James a quick glance up and down, “Let’s get dressed and go.”
Feeling a comforting hand slide onto her shoulder once the boy reached the end of the staircase, Roxy finally settled down, turning to James with an irreversible grin, waiting for him to agree.
“And what happened to Swirly?” Carlos asked again, more upset this time as if the answer weren’t obvious.
Still looking back at her friend, Roxy felt her heart skip with anxiety as the boy stuck out his bottom lip in thought.
In an attempt to hurry whatever James was going to say next, Kendall motioned towards the door. “We gotta get back to Rocque Records to get ready for the concert.”
“Yeah!” James lit up, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm before following with, “No! You see, Hawk wants to sign me to a three-record deal, modified the crib to suit my new personal style, and gave me… Sebastian!”
From the hallway leading to the bedrooms, Sebastian emerged with a silver tray full of fluffy white cloths. “Hot towel, anyone?”
As if the conversation at hand wasn’t incredibly important, the three newcomers let out a chorus of “thanks!” as they accepted three towels. Though, when they unfolded them and laid them over their faces, a distinct sizzling sound echoed off their skin as the boys let out pained shouts before falling to the floor.
Immediately, Roxy was at their sides - even if she loved the feeling of James’ hand on her shoulder - to help them remove the source of their pain.
Without as much as a blink in their direction, James continued, “Ooh, and, as I recall, you were the ones who told me to get real and move on, so I did.”
“Seriously?” From where she was kneeling, Roxy looked up at the wannabe in protest. “They came all this way-”
“Megaphone for emphasis, Sir?” Sebastian asked, coming to James’ side in the blink of an eye with a large megaphone on a different silver platter.
With a smile, James graciously accepted the device as his friends finally collected themselves off the floor.
“I rock!” He yelled into it, sharp electrical sound pulsating in the teen’s ears at his misuse of the speaker.
Taking a moment to collect himself, Kendall uncovered his ears with a sigh, practically pleading with his best friend. “James, I was mad, okay? We shouldn’t have broken up the band, but we’ve always promised since we were peewee hockey players that we would stick together! We even made Roxy promise the same the first week we were here!”
“Ooh, and you’ve never broken a promise?” James bit back, absentmindedly playing with the collar of his robe.
For a moment, it seemed as though the three were pretty sure they hadn’t, before their faces fell, eyes widening as though they had just remembered something incredibly important.
Glancing side to side, Logan noticed Carlos and Kendall were feeling similarly, before straining, “We might be horrible people-”
“We’ll fix it!” The blond cut him off, “But first, we need to fix the band. James, Roxy, we’re sorry… Now, let's go!”
“Come on!” Carlos agreed, pointing towards the door.
The minute the boys had walked in the door, Roxy had forgiven them for everything they had said in Minnesota, but she wasn’t ready to discount James’ feelings about the situation either. They had come here together and she intended to leave there together on the same path to the greatness she know he deserved.
Besides, this was a disagreement between him and the other boys, it had nothing to do with her, and that was made evident by the hostility with which James spoke to his friends.
Turning to face him and gauge his thoughts, Roxy noticed two figures making their way down the steel staircase.
“He’s not going anywhere,” A well-dressed man declared, voice clear and commanding as he grew closer to the teens. Despite being indoors, he wore dark sunglasses, ones that matched his dark hair and clothing. Behind him, a younger, beautiful, blonde woman followed, carrying a black ledger to match her black dress and leggings. “Because he’s got everything he needs here. Right James?”
Immediately, she knew this to be Hawk, and the way he clapped James on the shoulder, pulling him away from the rest of his friends made her stomach turn.
Before James was able to answer for himself, Sebastian was at his side once again, “Some toys or money, Sir?”
Take the money and run!
Grinning, James picked up a Rubik’s cube, earning Hawk’s praise, “Excellent choice!”
Standing between the two groups - Hawk Records and Rocque Records - Roxy could feel the tension between them. Three of James’ oldest and most important friends had been very clear in their feelings towards his dream, and when James had heeded their words, suddenly they up and changed their minds. She couldn’t possibly imagine what it would feel like to be in his position, but she would stick by him in whatever choice he made.
While her own decision entirely, that choice scared her quite a bit.
Across the room, she locked eyes with the singer and gave him a subtle nod to convey her feelings. We’re in this together. You and me, James. That’s all we need.
Shuffling a few lines of the cube in his hands, he glanced upwards towards his friends. “You guys told me to move on, so… I did.”
“And now my assistant, Rebecca, will show you the door.”
The blonde woman beside Hawk smiled, showing off her perfectly white teeth.
At the notion of being kicked out by such a gorgeous person, Carlos scoffed, pointing between the band and the assistant, “She’s gonna show us the door?”
That comment was enough to upset Roxy just a tad as she scooted over to the side of Hawk Records - though she desperately wished to leave and join team Big Time Rush.
It was just a bit funny to watch Rebecca kick the absolute crap out of the three boys who underestimated her physical prowess out into the hallway.
“Alright, James, get changed.” Hawk almost demanded as he lightly pushed James down the hallway of 2-J. “It’s time to get to work!”
***
The ride to Hawk Records was about three times as long as the one the teens normally took to Rocque Records - not only that but instead of the skyscraper that housed many divisions of the RCM/CBT/Global-Net/Sanyoid family, Hawk’s facility was more like a small office building.
As the group walked through the halls, Hawk and Rebecca led the way as James, Roxy, and Sebastian trailed behind, they admired the cool gray aesthetic of the interior. Similar to their previous place of employment, there were numerous posters boasting the talent working among them at the label though, none of them were as famous as anyone who had worked with Gustavo.
“And now,” Hawk concluded the tour as he stood next to a poster covered with a black curtain, “The newest addition to Hawk Record’s line of pop superstars… Jamez!”
With a woosh, the man pulled the curtain away from the larger-than-life image of the wannabe, Rebecca proudly holding her hand up to show off their handiwork.
Had the poster looked anything like her friend, Roxy might have found this to be an emotional, heartfelt moment, considering Gustavo hadn’t even put up a Big Time Rush poster in his halls yet, but whoever had done the photoshop work on this image had horribly butchered it. James' normal, perfectly proportioned face was now taken up by a large, noticeably fake pout of his lips, which were far too enlarged to look real. Not only that, they unnecessarily changed the spelling of his name, replacing the “S” with an unpleasant “Z.”
“Woah,” Roxy tried to joke through her own feelings about the poster, noticing James' face visibly pale as he looked at the image. “Someone went a bit too hard on the lip filler.”
With a nod, James bit at his bottom, normal-sized lip, “Yeah… and you spelled my name wrong.”
“No, I didn’t.” The producer affirmed, a sickening grin forming on his features as he faced the teens. “You’re Jamez with a ‘Z’ now. It’s ‘awezome!’”
“I don’t think anyone has ever used that term before, Mr. Hawk.” The assistant tried to add, but her comment was swiftly ignored as the man waved her off.
Beside the teens, Sebastian was also examining the poster, bringing up a great point. “Isn’t that technically Ja-Mez?”
Grin falling, Hawk quickly darted his eyes towards Rebecca; The woman gave him a strained smile back and a little nod, confirming the older man’s pronunciation.
“I don’t pay you to speak, Sebastian!”
Not bothering to defend his butler, James squinted, leaning in a bit more to look at the poster with a bit more scrutiny, “Circling back around… What’s wrong with my lips?”
“We added new ones,” Rebecca stated, British accent rivaling those of the Americans around her. “We wanted something fuller. Yours are too thin.”
Roxy had to bite her tongue to hold back her thoughts on his lips.
“And check out your new ‘zingle.’” Hawk shared, switching the subject, as he trotted over to a stereo system he had set up on a desk in one of the many lounges Hawk Records had to offer. Pressing the play button, a simple, yet very electronic tune filled the room. The words were elementary, repeating “Girl” over and over again, followed by “You so fine” to round out the melody.
“But I haven’t recorded anything yet!” James protested, trying to figure out how Hawk had already put something together for him,
“Not only that,” His assistant scoffed, “Those lyrics are so simple! A child could write something better.”
Shutting the tune off, Hawk swiveled back and forth in his chair, “Well, thanks to digital enhancement, James will never have to record anything and Roxy will hand her songs over to me. And together, we are going to crush Gustavo and Big Time Rush!”
Noticing the menacing tone the producer took, still swiveling in his chair, Roxy began to realize part of the reason Hawk had been so adamant about getting James down here. While they knew that Gustavo certainly didn’t like him, she didn’t think Hawk shared the same feelings - their old producer always dramatized parts of his life, and she had just assumed this feud was a result of that. Now, it seemed as though Hawk felt just as much disdain for Gustavo as Gustavo did him.
Gripping the straps of her bag a bit tighter, she grew more uncomfortable the longer they stayed in Hawk Records. It was James who brought her out of her head, stepping forward to level with his producer.
“But I don’t want to crush Big Time Rush. Those guys are our friends…” He said, glancing over his shoulder to give Roxy a weak smile which she was glad to return. “Or, they were.”
They are, She thought. No matter what.
“Music isn’t about crushing other artists… It’s about art and expression! Plus, my songs are my own. I don’t just hand them over and they don’t go anywhere without my consent.” His assistant added, stepping up to join him as they stared down Hawk and Rebecca.
“That too!” Agreed James. “No need for this digital enhancement stuff. I just want to record good music written by a real and awesome songwriter.”
It seemed that none of these important statements meant anything to their new producer or his assistant - certainly a major red flag that further compelled Roxy to try and get the hell out of dodge.
“Ja-mez, do you want to have friends or do you want to be famous?” Asked Rebecca, motioning to the numerous silver records Hawk had decorating the walls behind them.
Taking a bit too long to answer that question for himself, the boy just shook his head, glancing toward the carpet.
“And besides,” Hawk chimed in, handing this morning’s newspaper over to the wannabe. “If they were really your friends, would they be searching all over town for your replacement?”
Page open to the classified sections, James and Roxy spied the Big Time Rush logo plastered on the bottom right of the page.
Big Time Rush
Open Audition
Gustavo Rocque is holding an open call for a tall, athletic, pretty singer for a pop/rock group. Must be 16-18 and available immediately for rehearsals, album recording, and tour.
Please contact: Rocque Records
Reading the ad nearly broke Roxy’s heart. Did they think James could be so easily replaced? Could they even call it Big Time Rush without him?
When they flipped the page to see if there was anything more on the other side, Roxy felt her chest constrict when she noticed the logo once again on the top left page. It read similarly to the other ad, but something about this version told her the boys were in charge of the text, as opposed to Gustavo.
Big Time Rush
Open Team Position
Kendall Knight, Logan Mitchell, and Carlos Garcia are holding interviews for a new songwriter-assistant (emphasis on the songwriter). Must be 16-18, cute, play the guitar, write songs, and have a cool first name but go by a nickname which we will further shorten.
Please contact: Rocque Records
Serious Inquiries only.
Whatever the boys were planning, these ads were enough to light a fire under the singer, who threw the ad back down onto the table.
“I want to be famous.”
Not bothering to waste any more time, James promptly turned on his heel, grabbing his assistant’s hand, pulling her out of Hawk Records as fast as humanly possible.
As James had done this, Roxy, after a few moments of not being able to process anything but the feeling of his touch, thought this meant he was finally ready to forgive his friends. So much so, she began to ask Sebastian to route their stretch limo to Rocque Records, before the long-haired boy swiftly cut her off, asking to return to the Palm Woods for dinner.
Any time she tried to talk to him, maybe even nudge him in the right direction by asking him his feelings about the situation, he just let out a long-winded sigh. After a while, it started to feel like she was trying to talk to a brick wall. Knowing that she stood fully and completely with him was hard, especially when she was somehow also rooting for the other team. Now was not the time to play double agent, even though she had no idea what lay behind enemy lines.
When they arrived back at 2-J, the sushi bar was still open, prompting the writer to wonder if Hawk was just paying them to stand around in an empty apartment. James, who hadn’t said anything since his declaration, took about three full rolls from his personal chefs and moped over to the couch.
Requesting a fresh Philadelphia roll, his assistant grabbed two pairs of chopsticks and sat down next to him as Sebastian pulled a chair in front of them from the dining room table. Taking the steering wheel remote control once more, he booted up the driving game he had been playing earlier while his master took a sorrowful bite of his first California roll.
After a few minutes of aimless driving around the track, Sebastian confusedly asked, “Uh, where to now, sir?” as he kept the wheel steady.
“Just… Turn left here.” Responded James, the usual confidence with which he carried himself seeming to dissipate as he sighed. The sushi piece he had picked up to eat before he spoke was moved to the left, clutched between his chopsticks, almost absentmindedly hitting his assistant right in the face.
The sharp screeching of the virtual wheels on the track scratched Roxy’s ears, causing her to jump.
More silence followed until Sebastian asked, “Are you alright, Sir?”
James’ reply was immediate, though neither of the people in the room believed his words. “I’m good! I got Roxy, I got you, and I got sushi. Everything’s awesome.”
Click
Screen in front of them going black, Sebastian swiveled around in his chair, facing the teens as he stood. “Yes… And you seem so awesome.”
His actions were suddenly far different than they had been in the morning, the once reserved, level-headed man adding a different inflection in his voice causing James to chuckle, “Are you being sarcastic? ‘Cause you sound like Logan!... Who I don’t miss, just like I don’t miss Carlos or Kendall.”
“Of course, you don’t,” The butler agreed with a roll of his eyes, throwing his arms out to the side as he continued. “Just like I don’t long for a life away from the smog and shallowness of this town.”
Though a bit of a downer, Roxy thought she was beginning to catch Sebastian’s drift. Perhaps now was a good time to bring up her own feelings about the situation, and compare them against James’ to find somewhere they could agree.
As she went to open her mouth, James narrowed his eyes, setting down his plate of food. “We still talking about me here?”
“How do you teens say it today?” Now he was addressing Roxy, completely ignoring the wannabe as he tilted his head to the side. “Whatever, Ja-mez!”
“Hey! Hawk is gonna make me famous.”
“Sure he can, but don’t you think we always do better together?” His assistant murmured, catching the singer by surprise once he understood who she was referring to. “You and I aren’t the best problem solvers, like Kendall. Nor are we as brilliant as Logan, or as tough as Carlos. I think we all balance each other out.”
“A whole life with your friends or a whole life filled with fake lips and fake vocals… Wake up, James, and do enjoy a hot towel.”
Bracing herself based on how the last hot towel fiasco went down, Roxy covered her ears and ducked away from her friend, who screamed once the white cotton cloth met his face.
Thankfully, it seemed to have the effect Sebastian wished it to, as when the singer was finally able to pull it off of his red, splotchy face, he motioned to his assistant. “Are you sure this is the best idea for us?”
That was almost the last thing she expected him to ask her; just the fact he was checking in and making sure his decision mattered to her as well made her heart rate spike. That, and the word “us” used perfectly in his sentence.
“Gustavo’s only let us down once, and it seems like he’s trying to fix it… I certainly trust him more than Hawk.”
Hand moving to rub his jaw, James took in her words. “Sebastian, do you mind taking us to Rocque Records?”
“Not at all, Sir.”
***
Though the back of the stretch limousine was ultra-comfortable, as Roxy stepped out of the vehicle and shielded her eyes from the sun to gaze up at the skyscraper that housed their old recording studio, she couldn’t help but miss her bright red Pontiac GTO.
If everything went according to plan, hopefully, the keys would be back in her hands soon enough.
As the two managed their way into the building, pleased to know that their Rocque Records ID badges hadn’t been shut off, they were silent as they entered the elevator. Hearty dings filled the small space as they ascended, waiting for what felt like ages to get to the correct floor.
“Do you think they’ll forgive me?”
James’ words were sincere, and when Roxy glanced over at him, she noticed how intently he was staring at the numbered control panel.
Without thinking, she gently reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I think your best friends miss you… Besides, Big Time Rush is hardly Big Time Rush without one of its founding members. Try as they might to replace you, I’m not sure anyone else in the world has your wonderful voice, incredible sense of rhythm, or your effortless boy band-y charm.”
His reply was simple, calmly lacing his fingers between hers, “It’s not Big Time Rush without you either.”
“Oh, yeah?” Feeling the heat of his palm against hers almost sent Roxy’s knees buckling. For whatever reason, her first instinct was to try and deflect his comment, “Gustavo’s a great songwriter…. I haven’t even come up with any new song ideas recently, for Ja-Mez, Big Time Rush, or otherwise.”
The sound of laughter filled the elevator for a second, confusing the assistant as she turned to find its source. James, who had pulled his hand away from hers only to cover his face, was now nearly doubled over at her words. “God, I don’t ever want to hear the name Ja-Mez again!”
Fighting back her own smile, Roxy felt her shoulders begin to shake as well, “Then don’t mess this meeting up! Play your cards right and Gustavo might be begging on his knees for your return.”
Though seeming to sober him up a bit, the boy was finally able to move a few of his fingers, peeking down at the girl beside him. “For the return of both of us, Roxy.”
If he noticed the small flinch in her posture as he rolled out her name, he didn’t say anything, though she did continue to feel his eyes on her until the final ding let them know they had finally arrived at the studio floor.
Before she stepped out, James caught her arm, pulling her closer to him.
The swiftness of the motion scared her a bit, trying to find any explanation written on his face as she met his gaze, though, she only found a flicker in his eyes, glancing down a few centimeters. She was just delusional enough to believe he was surveying her lips and slightly leaned in, just to see what he would do.
Her answer would have to wait for another time, thoroughly and unwelcomly interrupted by the elevator doors beginning to slide closed, as James moved to keep them open before exiting and rushing off towards the studio.
In an attempt to keep his pace, she managed to shoot off after him, trying to pretend whatever had happened between them, didn’t really happen.
There's no way… Right?
Chain of thought half-disrupted as “Famous” began to blast out of the speakers of Studio A, Roxy tried her best to focus on the song, not the one clear message running through her mind stating: I want to kiss him.
However, it was easy to ignore her own feelings, staring at James’ back as he got closer and closer to the studio doors, considering the vocal work the three boys were rehearsing sounded next to terrible. The high energy, adrenaline-pumping practices the band used to have sounded like a thing of the past; the spirit of Big Time Rush lost before they heard Gustavo’s signature screaming from the booth and the track cut.
Now would have been the perfect time for James to declare his presence, confidently saunter into the studio, and easily earn his old job back, but before he entered, he turned around. With a lazy toss of his head towards the commotion, he smiled at Roxy. “Ready?”
“As I’ll-”
“Oh, you’re such a turd…”
From the studio, the lifeless performance of “Famous” was quickly replaced by Kendall singing the opening bars to the tune he had written the night of their audition in Minnesota. Though the songwriter felt the words were a bit cheap, as Carlos and Logan began to join in, she could practically hear their sardonic smiles and the new life the song was breathing into them. Though the song was just a warm-up, they sounded much happier together this time around.
Even if it had stunned both her and James into silence, as the boys rounded out the small tune Roxy felt herself reach out both of her hands, placing them on the boy’s chest and shoving him into the studio. Without even discussing a plan, James immediately caught on, rounding out the last line with a beautiful drawn-out ending note.
Suddenly, a verse managed to wedge its way into Roxy’s brain as she watched on, frozen, recognizing the ear-to-ear grin forming on James’ face. He hadn’t looked that excited about anything in days, and now, his reunion with his best friends was practically causing him to shine. No doubt, the writer had many thoughts about this, but more than anything, it made her so elated to see him this way.
Not wanting to miss out on this critical moment in their friendship, but also not wanting to lose her verse, the writer managed to pull herself out of her daze, rip her songbook from her bag, grip her favorite red pen, and scribble out her thoughts. It was good to be back.
You, you walked into the room,
On a Friday afternoon,
That’s when I saw you for the first time,
And I was paralyzed.
Of course, it hadn’t been the first time Roxy had seen James, but as she read over the words echoing in her mind, she came to a long-awaited realization.
I have a crush on James Diamond.
Despite being rooted in place outside the studio doors, songbook clearly in hand, Roxy’s petrification was soon undone as Carlos rushed towards her, picking her up and spinning her around until she landed right in the middle of her best friends. A clap on the shoulder from Logan, a hand on her head from Kendall, and a wink from James later, Roxy was happy to stuff her book back in her mini backpack and savor the euphoric feeling of this moment.
Everything was exactly as it should be, captured best as Carlos let out an excited, “Big Time Rush is back together - Whoo!”
“Yeah, I felt bad knowing how much you all missed Roxy and me.” James quipped, giving his helmet-wearing friend a hearty slap to the chest.
Matching his sarcastic tone, Logan smirked, “And you’re not gonna miss the cool pad, the hot towels, and Sebastian?”
“Oh, I’ll miss Sebastian.” Roxy jumped in with a raise of her hand, loving the airy feeling in her chest. It felt like a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders as she let the energy of her friends flow through her.
With a nod, the long-haired boy pointed to her, before answering with his own, “Yes, no, and yes.”
“Well don’t sweat it, because once we nail the concert, we’re gonna go back to the Palm Woods and get our own Sebastian, right?”
Kendall’s question was directed towards Gustavo and Kelly, who had finally managed to make it out of the control room with Katie and Mrs. Knight in tow.
As his words sunk in, Roxy managed an excited, “The concert’s back on?” that overlapped with Kelly’s “And what about Hawk?”
Like normal, Gustavo let out an annoyed sigh at the influx of comments, “We’ll talk about your Sebastian later. And we’ve got bigger problems than Hawk: As in the concert is in two days and we haven’t sold a single ticket and all the advertisement posters are now wrong!”
Motioning towards the back of the room, the teens turned their heads to find the fliers Gustavo had made in James and Roxy’s absence. An image of the band, Carlos, Kendall, and Logan, stood against a sad white background, adorned with the Rocque Records and Big Time Rush logos in the bottom two corners. Hideous red text in the middle reading Sunday 8 pm @ The Music Box Theater was almost impossible to read.
Not only that but as Roxy finally took some time to take in her surroundings, she noticed the studio which was often filled with instruments and recording equipment was close to empty. In the place of the normal adornments, brown, cardboard boxes stood in their place.
“Don’t worry!” Mrs. Knight lit up as if a lightbulb had gone off above her head. “Katie will donate her posters!”
Taking one from one of the many hundreds of boxes her daughter had ordered full of Big Time Rush merchandise, the woman rolled out a brand new poster - proudly displaying James in addition to the other three.
With a scoff, the young girl rolled her eyes, “No, I won’t!”
“Katie, donate them!”
Letting out a scream loud enough to rival Gustavo’s, Katie was quick to concede to her mother's demands, popping out of the room as fast as her little legs could carry her to find the rest of the poster boxes.
Promptly moving onto the next topic, Gustavo glanced over to his talent scout. “Kelly, what money do we have left in the budget for street team advertising and local TV and radio spots?”
Rummaging in her pockets for a bit, and pulling out a few things, Kelly listed them out: “One, two, three, four, five bucks and a punch card for one free Schmetzel’s Pretzel.”
The noise their boss made sounded somewhere in between a shocked gasp and the silent, pained cries of an individual choking on their food.
“We’ll go back to the Palm Woods and get some street team volunteers!” A brilliant idea from Kendall.
Nodding, Logan offered, “And I think I may know a way we can get some free TV spots.”
“Don’t worry about the radio either, I’ll call up some local stations in the morning.” Roxy confidently stated, hoping her knowledge of call-in radio shows would be enough to skirt some free advertising in the Los Angeles area.
Once no one else brought anything to the discussion, their talk swiftly came to an end.
“Well, what are you waiting for? I can’t sell this band to investors if we don’t sell out the concert! Go! Go! Go! Go! Get out of here!”
***
Roxy had hoped that her reunion with Jo and Camille would have been more heartfelt and comforting, but as soon as she crushed her friends into a giant hug, promising she had important information to tell them later, she put her feelings on hold for the time being.
In the morning, she had appointed herself as the leader of the street team, and the girl was now far more focused on distributing the correct posters to multiple groups containing her friends and other Palm Woods residents - marking everything out on a lovely list in her journal and a large map of Hollywood spread out on the dining room of 2-J. Even among the chaos of everything, she had tuned into most of the local radio stations, waiting for them to share their call-in phone number, and derailing every conversation she had on air to mention the concert.
Big Time Rush had managed to put together an eclectic collection of people from the hotel, but everyone was more than willing to lend their help in putting posters up on street corners, handing them out in front of shops and restaurants, and even bringing ads to their own auditions or practices over the course of the next 48 hours.
While the teens were taking care of advertisements, Gustavo also had his assistant set up a handful of meetings with some of the largest entertainment investment companies on the west coast: Giant Corp, Huge Corp, and, of course, Huge Giant Corp.
While still running her command center out of the apartment, Roxy even managed to get on the streets herself, standing outside of Amoeba Records on Hollywood Boulevard and passing out colorful fliers to anyone who walked by.
At one point, she even caught a glimpse of the news show Mrs. Knight was watching on the large entertainment center of 2-J, where Camille, using her expert acting skills, managed to get some air time. After claiming to have been abducted by aliens, local anchor Ted Garcia was eager to televise her story, before he was cut off by a mob of other teens, all holding up sign advertisements for the concert, as Camille repeatedly yelled the time and location of the show.
By the time the night of the concert rolled around, though Roxy was exhausted, she still managed to get herself over to the Music Box and join the rest of Team Big Time Rush to watch the marquee be changed from “ON SALE NOW” to “SOLD OUT” right in front of their eyes.
As cheers roared around her, she felt like taking a good, long nap. Hopefully, after tonight, it would be one in her bed in 2-H.
Once the celebration died down, the band and their friends went their separate ways - both groups needing to prepare for the concert. In just a few hours, the band would be proving they have just what it takes to make it to the big time, but for now, they needed to sound check the venue and get oriented with their new surroundings.
Watching the venue staff inside rush around, much like they had been doing for the past few days, from the stage felt a bit strange. It was even stranger as the five took in the sight of their bosses; one furiously texting away on her blackberry, the other nit-picking every little thing about the room.
“Okay,” Gustavo finally sighed, looking up at his band on the stage in front of him. There was a moment of reminiscence to the first time he had met them in Minnesota. “All that’s left to do is - oh, right - the concert!”
“Gustavo…” Kendall trailed off before the rest of the band picked up his sentence. “Have we ever let you down?”
I need to get better at this mind-reading thing they have with each other.
“I’ll let you know after tonight… Now, get your butts to your dressing room and get ready to rock this place for your fans and for my big investors.”
With a motion towards the VIP area in the back of the venue, the girl felt her heart squeeze. All they had known was the parental company guidance of RCM/CBT/Global-Net/Sanyoid; hopefully, another company would be able to provide them with similar attributes.
Though once James wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled her towards the dressing room with the rest of the band, she felt her worries wash away. All the chaos surrounding the teens over the last few days gave her little opportunity to fully see him, considering he was staking out street corners with Carlos throughout the Hollywood area to hand out fliers, and now, even as she took in the sight of his arm reaching towards her, she was grateful for the few seconds of joy buzzing through her veins.
Entering through the two large, grey doors labeled Dressing Room: Big Time Rush, she didn’t bat an eye at the red velvet curtain they pushed through, leading to the minuscule room.
“No way this is supposed to service five people…” She managed to choke out just as James let her go.
On the same wavelength as his assistant, Kendall did a little 360 to examine everything, “Smaller than I imagined.”
As if on cue, something mechanical kicked in, the air conditioner maybe, and the slight walls of the room shook.
“And it’s rumbling?” Carlos questioned, before the telltale sign of an engine turned over, emanating from the back wall of the room.
That was when the four walls began to move, pulling away from the venue, revealing Hawk’s assistant, Rebecca as she emerged from behind the red curtain.
With an evil smirk, she daintily waved to the five, “Make yourselves at home-” before reaching above her head and pulling down what looked to be the back slider of a moving truck.
“And it’s a trap!” Logan yelled, he and the band launching forward in an attempt to stop the slider from hitting the truck bed to no avail.
Watching, frozen in fear, Roxy felt the container begin to move faster, knocking her to the floor, while the rest of the boys let out pained cries, pounding on the back wall in hopes anyone would be able to help them before it was too late.
And too late it was, before 20 minutes into the drive - and Roxy’s subsequent claustrophobic breakdown - the engine finally turned off and the five were roughly hauled by Hawk and Rebecca into an empty warehouse.
Though, thanks to the Judo techniques Jo had taught Roxy in order to keep their sporadic sparring matches at the gym fair, the writer didn’t go down without a fight. After thrashing around as best she could, she successfully broke some skin on Hawk’s arm with a Judo-illegal biting technique and managed to pull out a fistful of Rebecca’s hair. Unfortunately, the two adults ended up overpowering her and her strong, hockey player friends, quickly subduing them in order to move them out of the truck.
Mini backpack left behind and cellphones pulled from their pockets, the five were helpless against the two adults.
What was worse, being tied down to the uncomfortable wooden chairs, ropes bitterly biting into their arms and wrists, or the single, bright spotlight casting light down on the middle of the room, blinding the teens as the adults shared a maniacal laugh, Roxy didn’t know.
First to voice his self-preservative concerns, James grimaced, tugging as best he could against the white chord holding him down. “Are… are you gonna kill us?”
“No. Don’t be stupid!” Hawk bit back, standing beside a now shocked Rebecca.
Oh, she definitely thought she was going to kill us.
The boys’ collective sigh of relief was much too soon as the producer continued, “But when Big Time Rush misses their first concert, your music careers will be dead.”
A blood-curdling scream emerged from James at the prospect of losing something more precious to him than his own life. Tied up next to him, Roxy didn’t appreciate the fact she couldn’t cover her ears as the sound echoed off the high ceiling of the facility.
“And more importantly,” Hawk was still talking, which allowed the assistant to catalog as many details about their location as possible. “So will Gustavo’s chances of ever topping me on the charts again!”
“You seriously needed to kidnap us to further your chances?” Roxy found herself laughing, laughing, at the man’s ridiculous words. “You hired a real, genuinely talented singer to make music but tried to use your stupid fake songwriting and electronic vocal producing machines instead. There’s a reason Hawk Records hasn’t ever produced a single hit, you idiot! Both you and your fashion-challenged sidekick will never be on the same level as Gustavo.”
She regretted her words the second Rebecca took a step toward her, fearing the woman’s vice-like grip that could easily damage any part of her body. Thankfully, the woman didn’t dignify her words with a response, only casting a sidelong glance at the five teens in front of her. “We’ll tell Gustavo where to find you and your phones once the crowd boos and abandons the concert.”
“When you mess with the Hawk, you get all ten talons!” The man finished, holding his fingers out in a claw-shaped fashion.
“Hawks actually only have eight talons.”
Logan’s factual correction was met with a scream: “I don’t care!”
“Okay… Just telling you…”
God, they should just kill us.
“But I do want to catch your concert so I don’t miss the look on Gustavo’s face when he loses everything.”
Producing another sinister laugh, and two strange caws, Hawk and Rebecca swiftly made their exit through a small door on the opposite side of the warehouse they had entered from - suggesting to the girl that was the way to the main road.
At this point, she had no idea what time it was, where in Los Angeles they could possibly be, and how they were going to get out of this with a viable career at Rocque Records.
However, any chances she had at forming an escape plan were instantly shattered as she heard James let out a cry for help. The raw emotion contained behind his scream sent a spike directly through her chest; so much pain, sadness, confusion… All things she was feeling, but his wail also contained something else she was having trouble deciphering.
“James,” She tried, in between his desperate attempts to regain air back into his lungs before another go. “Don’t damage your voice, please.”
Regardless of whether or not her comment was self-serving, she tried very, very hard not to think of what his raspy voice might sound like.
“Don’t worry, best friends of mine!” Carlos interrupted her train of thought, which was welcome considering they had bigger issues at the moment than Roxy trying to sort out her confusing feelings. “For this looks like a job for-”
Using all of his strength, he was able to hop his chair toward the right side of the warehouse, letting out a little “Hup!”
“Carlos, not now.” Kendall tried, his tone of voice sounding utterly defeated as well.
“Yes, now! ‘Cause it’s time… for…”
This time, James cut him off. “Carlos!”
“I can do this!” The boy continued, still moving farther and farther away from his friends as he did his best to get his superhero act together.
Watching his movement, the other four teens registered his quick pace and were in awe he had managed to get so far away from them. There was only one problem; he was heading towards a wide-open door, which boasted a cautionary sign reading STAIRS.
Even if it lead to their salvation, there was no use in getting out of the warehouse with broken limbs or cracked skulls.
Good thing Carlos is wearing a helmet.
“Dude!” Roxy called, a bit of hope hidden behind her concerned cry. “Keep going!”
“What?” Logan hissed, whipping his head around to face her. “No, Carlos,” His attention was back on his friend again, “You don’t understand!”
“No, you don’t understand!”
Kendall’s annoyed tone bounced off the walls again, “Carlos, we’re trying to help you.”
“I’m trying to help you!”
“And you are! Just a bit farther-”
“You’re not looking where you’re hopping!” Cautioned James, brow furrowed in worry.
Finally at the doorway, Carlos let out a few shallow breaths, no doubt tired from his sudden display of athleticism across the warehouse floor. “I can do this. It’s time for… Ahh!”
There was clattering, shouting, crashing, rattling, and even the sound of a pained cat’s yowl before there was silence. No sign Carlos had broken free, or at this point, even managed to survive the fall unscathed.
“Well, we tried to tell him.”
“Is this really the time for sarcasm, Logan?”
“Oh, big talk coming from the girl who insulted our kidnappers.”
“They deserved it! Hawk’s a loser and Rebecca’s dress and leggings combo is so 2003-”
Rustling from the doorway alerted the teens to someone entering the warehouse on foot, turning their heads to see Carlos, and rope, and shattered pieces of a wooden chair, standing triumphantly in the doorway.
Excitement swirled in the assistant’s chest, she knew he would get it, as James practically shouted in her ear, “You really are a superhero!”
“No!” Carlos’ tone of voice changed, deeper, and more confident as he stood, arms at akimbo facing his friends. “I’m a pop star… Who wants to rock that concert, get our album released, and get chased by lots of girls.”
Aw… The power of the boy band.
“Then untie us!” Kendall screeched, uncomfortably straining against the ropes burning into his sides as his friends joined in a chorus of agreement.
Roxy had never played the guitar with robe burn around her wrists. Hopefully, it wouldn’t affect her performance.
This was the perfect chance for Carlos to boast about the knot-tying merit badge he had earned in boy scouts, which he promptly reminded each of his friends about as he ran around untying them. Thanks to this, in no time, the five were barreling out the door Hawk and Rebecca had taken and found themselves on a busy street with a bus stop a few yards away.
The sun was still setting, and though Roxy wished she and the boys had the time to admire it, this told them the show was supposed to start any minute now. Without their phones, they were practically stranded in a random part of town, unable to call anyone to come pick them up and race them to the venue. Even the map at the bus stop was hard to read, riddled with sun-bleached spots bubbling off the glass and cigarette-burn rings.
Logan was the first to figure it out, unable to mask his anger as he let out a frustrated growl, “Oh, we’re downtown! We’re never gonna make it to the concert in time!”
“No concert means no album means no Big Time Rush!!” James astutely pointed out, adding his panicked cry to the mix.
“Guys, we’ll make it, let me go flag someone down and ask to use their phone-”
Cut off by a large, black limousine pulling up to the bus stop, Roxy was more than happy to shut up the moment the driver rolled down the window. There, in front of them with a more than optimal vehicle to take them uptown was Sebastian, looking as wonderful as a fairytale knight in shining armor.
“Anyone need a ride to the Big Time Rush concert?”
Just as shocked as she was, James was a bit weary after their kidnapping encounter, questioning, “Sebastian? You- You work for Hawk.”
With a shrug and a wry smile, Sebastian simply stated, “I quit. Now, get in.”
Not wasting any more precious seconds second-guessing the decision, the five teens piled into the back, practically vibrating with anticipation. Bracing themselves for a speedy getaway, they buckled in, before realizing they were almost surrounded by the sound of honking horns and screeching tires.
In an attempt to ease some of the tension he could feel from the backseat, Sebastian chuckled, “Oh, how I hate L.A. traffic… and superficiality and-”
“Sebastian, we’re late!” Kendall, Logan, and Carlos chorused, sending Roxy’s leg into an anxious bounce overdrive. It also didn’t help that James had taken the seat directly next to her, squishing her so tightly into the curve of the seat that his acid-wash jeans roughly hit her calf with every bounce.
Her anxious movement seemed to literally rub off on the boy. “We have to get there! Just, please!”
Loudly swallowing, Sebastian simply nodded and put on a pair of dark-tinted shades. “I’m going to lose my California limousine license for this.”
How he could still be cracking jokes at a time like this, the assistant found herself in admiration of, following his lead, “You never liked it here anyway, did you?”
“No, I didn’t, Miss. How hang on.”
Tires screeching loud, and the smell of burning rubber filling the backseat, their driver sped off, practically flying down the streets of Los Angeles.
At some point in the ride, Roxy felt her motion sickness coming on - be it from nerves or reckless driving - and placed her head in her hands for the remainder of the ride. Looking out the window would probably do her more harm than good.
Seconds, minutes, hours, maybe even eons went by before someone slipped their hand into hers and roughly pulled her out of her seat.
Weakly letting out a “Thank you!” Roxy made a mental note to send a fruit basket courtesy of Rocque Records to Sebastian. Hell, at this point, she’d even write a song about him if it meant expressing her undying gratitude.
Just as she was trying to figure out the best way to get his address, the band pushed her through the back doors of the venue, through the winding hallways to the stage, and up a small set of stairs before she found herself trying to hold up a fainting Gustavo.
There was a chorus of comforting words from the band as they pushed their producer back into the upright standing position, and in front of them stood Hawk and Rebecca, mid-evil laugh.
The look on their faces was priceless as they realized the band and their assistant had escaped their trap, jaws dropping to the floor, hands gripping the hems of their clothing… It was a wondrous sight to see, that Roxy wished to savor longer, but had to pretend to ignore as they prepared to make their way to the stage.
“Sorry we’re late, Gustavo!” Kendall apologized, giving the man a few reassuring pats on the shoulder.
Nodding in agreement, Logan said “Yeah, we got a little tied up,” before shooting the nastiest death glare toward the two adults in front of him.
“About that,” Roxy sucked in a breath, “Can one of you call the cops? We’d like to report a kidnapping.”
As Gustavo and Kelly went wide-eyed at her words, something distracted them.
“Oh… The people are leaving!” Carlos expertly noticed, examining the room behind their kidnappers, a flash of panic in his eye.
Roxy knew this was her cue, but as more and more people continued to turn away from the stage, she felt herself freeze.
They had survived a horrific band break up, a terrible solo break out, a wonderful best friend reunification, a haunting kidnapping, and the dangerous Los Angeles rush hour traffic, and a crowded room of people leaving the concert venue had been the thing that sent Roxy over the edge.
Feeling her blood run cold, she gaped a bit like a fish out of water, especially as her chest constricted, making it more difficult for her to breathe.
Our last shot at the big time… and everyone is leaving.
It wasn’t until James covertly slipped his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together with a tight squeeze, that Roxy was able to find herself back in the present.
“We’re gonna need some microphones,” was his gentle reminder ghosting the shell of her ear, and she took off like a flash, rummaging around their equipment bins to find the four pieces of equipment she had packed and labeled from the studio. Right behind her, Kelly was able to magically produce the microphone stands, and the duo worked together to get the boys exactly what they needed to hit the stage.
“Gah!” Hawk screamed, before shoving Rebecca in front of him as if she were a human shield, “Do something!”
Too busy making sure her friends were properly equipped for the show, she didn’t even see Sebastian shuffle backstage. “Hot towel, sir?”
With his expert aim, his famous fluffy, white-hot towels managed to cover both Hawk and Rebecca’s faces, making them easy to rush past on the way to the stage.
Grabbing her in-ear monitors, Roxy slipped them in before slinging her electric guitar around her shoulder.
From the side stage, the band gave her a thumbs up, and she checked with bass player, Mick, and drummer, Austin, who gave her slight nods, before kicking one of the guitar pedals at her feet and beginning to play the opening riff to “Famous.”
The moment the boys ran on stage, expertly hitting their marks as they began singing out the first lyrics, the crowd reemerged, piling in from wherever they had gone, cheering and holding up their handmade signs for the band to see.
As the song played, visions of bigger stages, stadium crowds, and, hundreds of new cities flashed through the songwriter’s mind. Big Time Rush was back, and now all they had to do was find a new parent company to keep them on the track toward their shared dream.
That won’t be hard at all, Roxy thought to herself, effortlessly banging out the chords she had played hundreds of times while finding it difficult to keep her eyes off James. This is the best show they’ve ever played.
In the blink of an eye, the set was halfway over, and the band and their assistant ran off the stage as the lights dimmed, signaling a costume change before “Count on You.”
Rushing into their dressing room, the boys had about a minute to change and prepare for their next song as a pre-recorded guitar track connected the songs, and Roxy used this time to refresh her lipstick in the mirror hanging just offside stage. Since this song was an acoustic breakdown to show the investors some of the boys’ versatility, she didn’t need to hop in for another five or so minutes to start up “Any Kind of Guy.” Kidnapping wasn’t all that good for flawless makeup upkeep, so this time would be used to perfect her rockstar glam look.
Just as she had finished placing an extra coat of red over her lips - a shade she, Camille, and Jo had found while out shopping that perfectly matched her guitar - the band ran back past her, ducking behind the drum kit to make an entrance on the opposite side of the stage without being seen by the crowd. Oh, the wonders of backstage magic.
“Rox, you coming with?”
James’ words startled her, almost making her ruin her perfect coat as she jumped in the mirror. When she turned around to answer him, she sighed, “You know this show inside and out. I’m not on until-”
“No, I know, I just…I don’t know-”
Now he was fiddling with the zipper on his black jacket, time was slowly running out for him to make his mark. “James?”
When he took a few hasty steps towards her, she instinctively moved back before finding herself hitting the cold, brick wall. The chill bit onto her bare arms, but once James reached his hands up, cupping her face and leaning in, the bitter sensation quickly burned away once she realized what was happening.
Tilting her head up, she let out an involuntary gasp as the boy leaned into her, the shadows of the low backstage lighting streaking through his long, perfectly styled hair.
James was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him, in their own private corner of the loudest, most packed room Roxy had ever been in, under the cover of the set-change darkness.
God, he really knew how to get her heart rate going, and he knew it, letting out a soft, breathy laugh as she finally dared to grab the sides of his jacket and pull him in, roughly slotting herself into his warm, sickly-sweet lips.
And, for the first time in her entire life, Roxy literally felt like she was floating as she continued to lean up into him, pulling him down towards her, keeping him close as he kissed her again and again…
“Was it so, totally magical? Did you feel sparks fly?”
Jo’s words from months ago sped around in her brain, interrupting the euphoric sensation flowing through every inch of her body.
Then, Camille’s: “Like, the gods of love were showering us in a mist of rainbows and butterflies!”
Abruptly pulling away from her, Roxy immediately tried to stop James, running her hands from his jacket collar to lazily hang around his neck, worried he could somehow read her mind; He would probably be less than pleased to learn her mind was wandering at a time like this.
This, however, caused Roxy to open her eyes, which she didn’t remember shutting, to a blinding display of multicolored light. Rainbows emanated off the lights from the stage, indicating the next song was going to begin in about 30 seconds. As for the butterflies, they had weaseled their way from the top of her chest to the pit of her stomach, and she worried that if she opened her mouth, they might just fly out, removing the perfect, buzzy sensation she was basking in.
“I love the way you say my name.” He told her, just loud enough to hear even with the bulky monitors poking out of her ear canal, and she thought she might never, ever breathe again.
When he let her go, she felt the chill creep back up her spine as she reluctantly detached herself from him in return.
James was tall, just so perfectly, tall, giving her the perfect line of sight to his lips, which she so desperately wanted to find herself in again. His lips, which just so happened to be covered with her red lipstick.
Lord, give me strength-
Taking a few steps back, he sheepishly glanced back toward the stage.
“James!” Roxy found herself calling, inadvertently giving him exactly what he had wanted as she pointed to her own lips, trying to warn him of the stain.
The sound of “tsk, tsk, tsk” emanated from the clicking of his tongue against his teeth, “We’ve got a job to do, Roxanne, give me a break.”
Had Roxy not been wearing what felt like a pound of stage makeup, he might have seen the way her cheeks completely flushed. “No, um… You’ve got-”
Gently, he took the side of his thumb and wiped his bottom lip, dragging it to remove the makeup he’d stolen off of her, looking his assistant straight in the eye.
Then, just like that, he was gone, sprinting to the other side of the stage as the tack countdown began to play in her ear, though, she couldn’t hear it as she leaned into the wall behind her, his voice replaying over and over in her mind.
I love the way he says my name.
And the musical journey continues…
--
:) Thanks for sticking it out to the end of the first part. Original chapter 19 out next week before we dive into the second part <3
As always, comments, votes, literally any form of interaction with my work is so, so, so appreciated I don't even have the words to describe it. Tell me what you think here on tumblr!
Also, to the person who gave me the 'mangerine' friendship bracelet at btr vegas, this chapter is for you. Thank you! <3
#thats all she wrote fic#big time rush#btr#james diamond#james maslow#kendall knight#kendall schmidt#logan mitchell#logan henderson#carlos garcia#carlos penavega
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hello. following tonight’s theme, i wanted to crosspost a part (which can technically count for a ficlet ngl) of my postwar tattooed harry…thing. two related drabbles linked at the end.
Harry had two tattoos. (Well, three counting yesterdays). He’d originally meant to show both to Sirius but well, all of *that* had happened and it completely slipped his mind. But he wanted to do it now, needed to cut through the tension, and he knew his godfather would get a good laugh out of the whole thing, too.
So the first thing he did after freshening up was go into Sirius’ room, where he could only see a covered lump on the bed, no other trace of the man. Harry smirked wickedly, before leaping onto the bed as hard as he could, twisting slightly for maximum impact. He did make sure to land beside the lump though, not on it, because he wanted to wake his godfather, not crush him.
He knew he succeeded when he heard a muffled ‘oomph’.
“Wakey, wakey, Sirius,” he sang cheerfully, knowing that Sirius was absolutely not a morning person and probably hated him right now, late-night declarations of love notwithstanding.
“G’way,” a sleep-roughened voice growled, “M’sleep’ng.”
“Not anymore, you’re not,” Harry retorted as he made himself comfortable against the headboard. He was planning to stay for a while. “Besides, I’ve got something to show you.”
One bleary grey eye peaked out from a tiny gap through the comforter, staring at him in silent question.
“You never asked me if the Grim was my only tattoo,” Harry started teasingly, knowing that would be just enough bait to properly rouse Sirius from his slumber.
He was proven right when the man yelped and kicked the thick material off him, clearly too interested to sleep any longer. He was shirtless, tattoos in stark contrast against pale skin. But, Harry didn’t dwell on those, he’d seen them quite often—instead, his eyes immediately went to the small area where his name (His. Name!!!) was etched. Looking at it now, with sunlight streaming in through the window, it seemed so obvious that it was there. How had he never noticed it before?
“Because most people focus on the runes, maybe even the antlers.” He startled at that, not expecting his godfather to have noticed his perusal and definitely not catch his unspoken question. He looked up to see Sirius shrugging ruefully at him.
“Even the Potter Crest,” he trailed loving fingers over said tattoo on his wrist, “those are usually the most eye-catching ones. A simple word gets lost in all that chaos.”
Harry knew what he was talking about. When he’d first seen the man in person, even while he was half-deranged and raving, his attention had been caught on the runes that were inked across his chest, visible through the gap of his tattered robes. He’d asked about them once, way back in fifth year, before…everything.
“Runes are magical tattoos so all of them have a different purpose,” Sirius had answered, “Protection, safety, better channelling of my magic, strengthening my core and being able to connect to it better- acting as a conduit, basically. That one really helped with the Animagus transformation, actually. James and I did a couple of these ourselves before we finished the final transformation. But,” He’d fixed Harry with a stern look (a look rarely seen on him), “I don’t want you to even think of doing something like that. You’re not nearly old enough for it. It…wasn’t a good idea when James and I did, definitely not safe. I don’t want you to risk destabilising your core like we did, Harry. We were dumb idiots who thought we knew better than everyone else, and I should hope you don’t act that way.” Harry, who didn’t know the first thing about Runes and was definitely not gonna mess around with them (he’d heard one too many safety lectures from Hermione, thank you very much), had just nodded quickly in assent. While it had grated slightly, Harry had appreciated that Sirius was honest with him. But his interest in both runes and tattoos had shot up with that conversation. Magic really was quite something, wasn’t it?
Awareness of the others came later, definitely. He’d seen the Potter Crest a few times, especially since Sirius had a habit of caressing his wrist absentmindedly, but he hadn’t known what it was at the time (and wasn’t that depressing? That his own family was so foreign to him?). The antlers, though- those were a surprise. He’d entered Sirius’ room one morning, similar to today, and had seen the beautiful ink spanning his shoulder blades. He’d stopped in his tracks, unable to do anything more than stare gobsmacked at the view. It was—entirely unexpected (though in hindsight, it shouldn’t have been. He had seen, firsthand, how devoted Sirius was to James Potter- it was impossible not to when the man still mourned his father every single day.)
It was just one thing knowing how close his father was to Sirius, but completely another seeing that—love in person.
But yeah. From experience, Harry knew that it was easier to hide tattoos that no one expects to see on you, especially since most people have poor observation skills anyway.
He looked at Sirius again, who’d managed to get cleaned up in the time it took him to get lost in his thoughts.
“So,” the man prompted when he saw Harry turned his way, “care to elaborate on your previous words now?”
Harry smiled mischievously, “Maybe I just said that to get your lazy arse out of bed?”
Sirius’ eyes narrowed suspiciously, obviously considering his words, “Hm. I don’t believe you, pup. You definitely had something specific in mind.”
Harry considered stalling, teasing him further, but he was getting a little hungry and he really wanted to show Sirius too. So he nodded and scooted back so he was on his knees on the bed. He pushed his jumper up, at the same time hooking a thumb into his pyjamas to pull them down slightly.
There, right above the hip bones, was a tattoo in memory of his parents. As was characteristic for the magical counterpart, it was constantly in motion, bringing the whole thing to life. When he’d started looking into them after Sirius had introduced him to the concept, he’d found that there were many types of magical tattoos, runes were just one of them. This was one where the ink was basically like a looped animation.
“Prongs—Lily,” Sirius breathed in wonder as he looked at the ink on Harry’s skin. Although this one wasn’t as big as the one he’d shown yesterday, it didn’t take away from the sheer beauty of the artwork. It had only two components, a majestic stag and a beautiful twine of lilies. What made it interesting was the actual movement itself. Harry got this one just after the War, and his state of mind was entirely different from when he’d gotten Padfoot- more hopeful and less desolate. So he’d gone for a slightly different vibe.
The stag was standing proudly, head held high before taking a step forward and getting entangled in the lilies. Almost falling over. A series of slow blinks. An overexaggerated look of indignation on its face. All the while with the lilies still wrapped comically around its body. Harry remembered being in awe at how well the artist had conveyed that particular emotion, and on an animal at that, without making the whole thing too silly. He was still impressed, to be honest.
Sirius suddenly let out a sharp bark of laughter at seeing the sequence of events, just as Harry had known he would.
“Oh Harry, that’s amazing!” He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners with the force of his smile, “Wherever did you get the idea from?”
“I was kind of sick of all the doom and gloom, to be honest,” Harry admitted, “So I wanted something that would—make me laugh? Help me not take everything seriously, ykno?”
“Well, I, for one, think you did an excellent job,” Sirius praised, making his heart soar (All these years, and Harry still wanted nothing more than his godfather’s approval), “And I can tell you for a fact that Lily would’ve gotten a hoot out of it. She was a fan of anything that had the potential to deflate your dad’s ego.” Sirius related with a wink.
“James, though, he would’ve taken a while to come around to it, I think,” he continued thoughtfully.
Harry blinked in surprise.
“Don’t get me wrong, he would’ve loved the tattoo itself,” Sirius hastily corrected seeing his expression, “Just—that would come after he’d finished freaking out about his baby getting something like that on his body.”
Harry was confused now (although there was a pleasant warmth forming in him as well. He’d often wondered what his parents would think of his, uh, adventures with body art), “But-I thought dad got his first tattoo when he was younger than me? Why would he freak out?”
“Well, yes. But no one ever claimed that James Potter was rational in his overprotectiveness. All he would’ve thought about was how much pain you must’ve been in through the whole thing. Remember when I said I promised your parents I’d get you your first tattoo? It was actually James who objected to that. Loudly. Kept going on about how you shouldn’t ever have to experience pain like that.”
Harry was—a little taken aback, to be honest. He hadn’t expected that. Of course, by this point he’d realised that his dad was very protective when it came to people he cared about, but somehow he never thought about what it meant for him. (He tried not to think about everything he’d faced so far- the Dursleys, the Basilisk, Cruciatus, Voldemort- and if they would’ve even happened if his parents were still alive, how his dad would’ve reacted)
Sirius clearly hadn’t clocked onto the direction of his thoughts, thankfully, because he was still talking, “—know, I got you your first ever broom-“
“That was McGonagall, Si-“
“Not that one, pup,” Sirius interrupted, shaking his head, “This one was a little toy broom, for your first birthday. Barely went higher than three or four feet, I’d say. Equipped with the most advanced protective charms of the time too.”
Harry listened in wonder, stories of the time he was with his parents still far and few between. There was—so much he didn’t know still.
“I couldn’t give it to you in person- Order mission, you know how it is. But Jamie mirror-called me as soon as they unwrapped it.” Sirius’ smile was nostalgic, remembering the tongue lashing he’d gotten.
“He was ready to chew me out, you know?” He told Harry with a chuckle, “You were zooming around happily in the background and James was following you, stressed as all hell that you’d fall or hurt yourself somehow. Lily was just sipping her wine and enjoying the show. She’d kind of given up on your dad and his antics by that point,” Sirius said the last part in a conspiratorial mock-whisper, even though it was just the two of them in the room.
“It’s so funny to think dad was so high-strung, to be honest. I would’ve never thought.” Harry commented, trying to picture the scenario in mind.
“Oh, absolutely. Most people were under the impression that Lily was the more anxious of the two, and this isn’t me saying she didn’t care or anything. But oh boy, no one could reach James’ levels of catastrophising and drama,” Sirius remarked, “He was in a league of his own.”
“Anyway, enough about that,” Sirius clapped his hands, making Harry jump at the sudden sound. “Looking at how well your tattoo artist did, it’s kind of making me want to go get one of my own now. It’s certainly been long enough, what do you think?”
Sirius directed the last bit at Harry, one eyebrow raised in question.
Without even fully thinking about it, Harry started nodding in excitement, “Yes! You’ve already got me tatted, now it’s your turn, Siri.”
“Okay, okay,” Sirius laughed, holding his hands up, “No need for the rush there, pup. We have all the time in the world.”
And they did, didn’t they? Nothing to do except fill their body with artwork like a canvas, spend time with each other, and enjoy life, Harry thought with giddiness spreading through his body. He couldn’t wait.
xxx
protective james i
protective james ii
#harry potter#sirius black#good godfather sirius black#mother hen james potter#i will not rest until the idea is firmly cemented in everyone’s minds#yes i am still on my ao3/tumblr crosspost agenda don’t mind me#this entire fic was supposed to be super short and casual but then it grew a mind of its own#the point it got divided into 3 chapters#and then the other drabbles that were born from this#i love writing in universe stuff from my fics#weird as that sounds#like that continuity is something i adore#ok i just realised - after the first word ficlet - that i used the same ‘wakey wakey’ call for harry and sirius lol#5 years apart. and u can still spot the same shit. smh.#(although where wakey wakey came from idk. i don’t use it nor does anyone else around me:#anyway yeah. i’m a bit obsessed with tattoos and these boys so ykno. this.#pen’s writing#pen’s favourites
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Evil Roommate
pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers
warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise
requested : yes!
word count 6.2k
summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.
“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”
The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.
“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”
“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”
Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.
“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”
“What the fuck is your problem?”
You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”
Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.
“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”
A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?
“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”
His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.
“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”
“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”
Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.
“Who the fuck said you could touch me?
“Did you just fucking slap me?”
“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”
“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”
You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”
“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”
Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.
“Can you get to the point please?”
“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”
A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.
“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”
Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.
You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.
Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.
“Y/n?”
Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.
“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.
“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”
The arm he had around her waist made you sick.
“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.
“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”
“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”
You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.
“Uh no thanks Y/N-”
“We should all hang out!”
The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.
“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”
“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.
“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”
You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling
“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”
You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.
“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”
The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.
“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”
“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.
Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.
“Hello?”
His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.
“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”
“What do you need me to do?”
You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.
“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”
“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”
“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”
“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”
“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”
And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.
You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.
“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.
“Y/n what are you doing-”
“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?
Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.
“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.
“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”
She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.
“Let’s play a game!”
“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”
“I think that’s a great idea!”
You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.
“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”
***
Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.
“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”
Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.
“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”
“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”
“Yes you have.”
All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.
“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.
“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”
Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.
Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-
“Y/N? Y/N!”
The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.
“When?”
As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.
“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”
“I’m not saying it here in front of-”
“Who? Chaeyeon?”
Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.
“It was in the car.”
Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.
“The car?”
You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.
Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?
“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”
“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.
“Do you want this?”
“What?”
A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.
“I said, do you want this?”
“Do you?”
His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.
“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”
Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.
“Kiss me if you want me.”
He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.
“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”
You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.
“Fuck it.”
He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.
“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”
“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.
“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”
A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”
“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”
“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.
But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”
You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.
“Are you being serious right now?”
The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.
“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.
“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.
“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”
His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.
“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.
“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”
A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?
“Minho I’m-”
“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”
His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.
“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”
“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”
You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.
“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”
“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”
“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.
“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”
The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.
“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.
“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.
“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”
“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one
who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”
There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.
“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.
“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”
“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”
Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.
“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”
“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”
“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.
“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”
Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.
“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.
“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.
“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”
The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.
Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.
“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.
“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”
It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.
“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”
“You wanna cum baby?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna cum right now?”
“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.
“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”
And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.
“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.
“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.
“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”
You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.
“Why don’t you find out and see?”
#lee minho#minho#leeknow#stray kids#lino#lee minho smut#skz smut#leeknow scenario#stray kids smut#stray kids scenario#dom leeknow#dom lee minho#dom lino#lino smut#ch4nb4ng
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Ours
A Sevika x Reader x Silco fic that absolutely NOBODY asked for (but me). I wrote this in my notes and uploaded it onto the mobile app. So yeah. Sorry for any mistakes.
Shout out to Sevikasslut for the inspiration to actually write my ideas. Thanks doll ☺️
This series was entirely brought on by this single screen grab and my filthy imagination.
This is part 1/?? Of I don’t know how many parts to be totally honest. I’ll be sure to tag any N!SFW content that come up but this does have minor drug use and drinking.
You’ve known of your…soulmates existence since their names burned onto your wrist on your 18th birthday. A soul marking day was always something to celebrate and a double marking was a true rarity. Yet when you shared their names with your parents, their collective looks of terror remained ingrained into your memory for years to come. Their rejection of this bond burned almost as much as the marks themselves.
The evening of your marking day, they sent you to the inner city of piltover, to stay with a distant relative. And when you asked why, the only answer you received was a grim:
“We’re doing this for you. To give you a chance.”
The week following they sold what they could to grant you entrance into the academy. Something they hadn’t even considered doing until these two names were painfully etched into your skin.
Silco & Sevika
Before you left, they made you promise to keep your soulmates identities hidden. The urgency in their request made it seem like your life depended on it.
Little did you know, it did.
That was eight years ago. Since then you had felt your marks burn only a handful of times. A tell sign that one of your soulmates was nearby.
But it was nice, being able to focus on your studies, uninterrupted. No pressures to slow down in your passions for the sake of your partners. And passions you had. Specifically on the glaringly obvious social issues between Topside and the undercity. The serious rift between the two was truly heartbreaking to anyone who actually took the time to see what was happening. You hadn’t spent much time back home since your marking day, at your own parents insistence. Yet every visit revealed that the under-city was slowly deteriorating.
The eight years spent in the sparkling city of piltover was bitter sweet. Having opportunities your parents only dreamed of, created this imposter syndrome that weighed heavy on you if you stopped to think about it too often. So you threw yourself into your studies. Finding ways to help both peoples by learning how to maneuver the intricate systems of operation oppression that most piltover citizens couldn’t be bothered to deal with, much less look at.
You made friends here, or rather two. Chani and Marina. Their circle accepting you reluctantly enough. Their micro aggressions on where you came from slowed down significantly after your vast achievements in your area of studies. Which brought you to this moment now.
You stood in front of the mirror, glancing over the finishing touches on your makeup for the night. Looking over your outfit for any imperfections became a habit, living on this side. With nothing out of place you left the powder room of Chani’s house. A low whistle was heard, coming from them.
“Damnnnn you clean up nice. Who would’ve thought?” Chani giggled
You rolled your eyes and flipped them off. Your running joke falling def on the rest of the group.
“Alright whores! Time for some shots! It’s not every day we graduate as Doctorate’s from piltovers FINEST.” The cheers of 30 valedictorians filled the room, including yours. Blaring whistles and high fives following after.
“Now listen up!” Chani continued, ever the type A personality.
“I have our entire itinerary for the evening. So keep up! We’re starting with dinner at Voxx. Delanys father graciously lent us his private box for us to get to our main attraction for the evening. So make sure to thank him. Following dinner, we have an entire section at-“ stopping for suspense, she continued when she knew she held everyone’s captivation “-The Last Drop.” She finished with a smile.
Despite the pantyhose, your felt entirely too exposed walking the small distance to The Last Drop. Your rowdy group of polished topside citizens sticking out like a sore thumb in the lanes. Pulling the leather mini skirt down as you took another step towards the club gave little reassurance. Thankfully the thigh high boots provided another barrier of unconscious protection. No matter how much you were able to cover, which wasn’t a lot considering the top you wore barely counted as a covering, you felt as if the people around you were seeing through you, in a way. However, the thick heels of the boots you wore did create a semblance of safety in case you needed to run. An outfit choice you thanked your past self for multiple times since leaving the safety of piltover.
As Marina gave the party name to a rather dapper bouncer, your head filled with the irony of this entire situation. Some of piltovers finely educated citizens coming to the lanes to celebrate their success while totally blocking out the horrors of the lanes. The people we’re supposed to be helping…
“You’re in your head again! Which obviously means you need at least two shots, and a drink!” Marina yelled knowingly into your ear over the blasting music of the club.
You laughed as she pulled you along towards the two beautiful bottle girls who were working your group. Her short silky pearl dress moved with her graceful movements. Looking almost angelic in this club against the colorful lights. She yelled your drink order to one of the girls who smiled and nodded, getting to work. Marina impatiently, yet ever politely poured the both of you a colorful shot each while your cocktails were being made.
“To us!!” She cheered
“To us!” You yelled back, downing the drink
You hadn’t felt this free in years. The kind of high that only comes from looking good and having a night on the town with your best friends. Blowing steam in the best way felt incredible. Indestructible even. Chani and Marina approached you with another drink, you blew them kisses as it was handed to you. Your world flowing and moving as your body swayed in time with the music. A blunt being passed your way soon after. Taking a greedy hit only to realize too late that it was laced after it burned too heavily. Coughing in a panic, you realized the smoke coming out had a light purple tint
Fucking Shimmer?!
You glared at your classmate who took the tainted blunt.
“Don’t worry angel, you’re safe. We got you.” Marina yelled over the blasting music.
Putting your drink down you nodded and stepped away from the circle.
“I’ve gotta pee! Come with me?!”
Your duo nodded in agreement and stumbled your way to the filthy restroom.
Once you were in front of the mirror, it hit you. You were fucked up. The room tilted despite your death-grip on the counter. Making eye contact with yourself you admired the beautiful artwork on your face.
“At least I look good” you thought as you tried to stay upright as you waited for the next available toilet.
As soon as it became available you quite literally stumbled in, clumsily locking the door behind you. Barely having control of your facility’s made it more challenging to pee, but you managed with a sigh of relief. The relief was short lived due a growing pain on your wrist, it was starting to burn under your smartly placed metal cuff. An involuntary whine left your lips as it increased in intensity. In your hazy mind it slowly clicked:
They’re here. You’re soulmates.
Oh, shit.
If you were feeling it, then surely they were too.
Which meant you had to leave. Like, now.
But what if they’re nice??? A part of you wondered.
Immediately your parents faces flashed through your minds eye. Their urgency and sacrifice to keep you away from them. To give you a chance, they said.
Quickly finishing up, you rushed out of the stall to wash your hands.
“Marina, Chani! I’m ready to go home!” You shouted, slurring slighty.
A flush sounded and quickly after Chani came out, long locs moving with her as she made her way out of the stall, washing her own hands.
“What’s the rush? We’re just getting into the thick of it babe! Nights still young!“ she giggled , wrapping her arms around you.
“What is this I hear about leaving? Girl it is too early for that! It’s barely 1:30 AM!” Marina raised a perfectly shaped brow at you as she waltzed out of her stall, washing her own hands.
“I’m just not feeling very good. I’m- a little too fucked up to be dealing with this.” You admitted your half truth.
Your friends eyed you, seeing the strain in your eyes even with liquor, weed and shimmer coursing through your system. After a moment Marina spoke first. “We’re a little too buzzed to leave right now love. Let’s wait until we sober up a bit. It’s probably not the best idea for us to leave in this state. We can grab a bite to eat before we catch a ride back to Topside. Sound good?” She finished, playing with a piece of your hair.
Three women, under the influence, walking alone in the lanes at this hour? Good point.
Nodding, you agreed.
“You’re not hiding out in this bathroom though, let’s go.” Chani linked arms with you and Marina then led you back to your section.
You’ll stay in your designated section, sober up, and leave. Maybe grab a late night bite (preferably something greasy) and be home, safe in your own bed in no time.
Suddenly thankful for the exclusivity of Piltovers socialites, you relaxed a bit. Even with your soul mates being in the area. It’s not like they could just waltz in and snatch you up. This area was heavily guarded for that very reason. Exclusivity.
Saved by classism. How ironic.
Swaying back into your section, you decided to make the most of your safety. Grabbing your best friends hands and dancing to the pulsing music.
Little did you know, of the cold silver eyes sweeping the crowd.
Sevika’s POV
It took too long to recognize that the burn on her wrist was from the soul mark and not from all the.. action, that played out earlier in the evening. It wasn’t until Silco hissed and discreetly rubbed out his own wrist. The wrist that carried the names of his soulmates; Sevika and y/n. Then it dawned on her.
Silco eyed Sevika, an entire agreement being communicated without a word being uttered:
Find her
With a subtle nod of his head, he dismissed Sevika from the meeting to find their missing piece. They had never been this close to her before. Already feeling the effects of having her so close yet not close enough, fueled the woman with a hungry passion. Their beautiful girl was somehow always out of reach. Deducting that she must reside in Topside, since Sevika had felt the burn of the soul mark only while overseeing deals there. A serious shock to both the revolutionists.
Maneuvering with purpose, Sevika made her way down the stairs leading from Silcos office. Eyes vigilantly scanning the crowd of swaying bodies for the new face. The face that’s been painfully out of reach for the last eight years. A carnal motivation fueled the woman. She would find their partner or die trying.
Y/n POV
Your Dancing to the euphoric music came to a swift halt when your wrist burned, painfully. Your arms that had once been in the air came back down fast. Quickly removing the metal cuff, you noticed. Sevika’s name on your skin was glowing red. She must be really close. Carefully replacing the metal cuff, you wormed your way through your party to find Marina and Chani.
“
The look on your face left no room for argument. They nodded, saying quick goodbyes to the surrounding graduating classmates before linking arms with you and heading towards the exit. A wave of sobriety hit you as You realized the danger you were in while you worked through the crowd of people. Not only were The looks you and your friends receiving make you want to take your skin off and never put it back on; but the realization that your soulmates truly might be dangerous people made your stomach drop. Leading your girls towards the exit, you held your breath as the pain in your wrist moved from a burn to literally scalding. You were almost out. Literally steps away from the exit when the soul mark became almost debilitating. This was the downside to having two soulmates. The initial contact was so overwhelming, sometimes enough to make one black out from pain.
Silco and Sevika must be right on your tail.
A new urgency fueled you as you pushed your friends out of the club. Accidentally bumping into the bouncer as you did. Giggling yet Mortified, your friends apologized and the three of you made your way out of The Last Drop.
“Y/n!!!”
You stupidly turned at the call of your name. Meeting the eyes of a beautiful yet terrifyingly determined woman. She narrowed her eyes and made her way towards you.
Sevika sent you a warning look before you side stepped your friends, mumbling clear instructions to them.
“You two head STRAIGHT to the box trolly and meet me at my place. Don’t stop for anything.”
With that you made a break for it in the opposite direction. Hoping like hell they listened. It’s been years since you’ve been this deep in the lanes, and you prayed to any gods who were listening that this short cut to piltover was even still standing.
Running through the lanes, The air was thick, as if it carried some of the burden of what happened in these streets. It would be almost comforting if it weren’t so suffocating as you fled the woman destiny had fated you to. And her cronies. She must be someone important to command such individuals in the lanes. Despite her hard beauty, you couldn’t stop the longing for what if. Briefly making you question why you were even running from them in the first place.
“If she gets away Boss will have both of our heads!” you heard one of the men yell.
“She’s close! If she gets away you won’t have to worry about Silco taking your heads. I’ll kill you right here.” Sevika grunted, her heavy footfalls getting closer and closer.
Whelp.
Leaping over a suspiciously viscus puddle in the middle of the ally way, you found what you were looking for. An abandoned material shoot that’s glory days had long passed. You had used this very shoot when you first came to visit your family and didn’t have enough coin to pay for a public trolly ticket. Too embarrassed to ask your aunt for ticket money. After learning of its existence, and it’s purpose (heaven forbid piltover citizens had to sit in the same transport as the material being sent to their city.) Despite it being retired and kept up for historical purposes, it became your preferred means of transport into the lanes. That was eight years and about 30 pounds ago. With a comicly skeptical prayer you opened the gate and pulled the lever. Hoping the metal death trap was still functional. A terrifying yet familiar metallic groan sounded all around you before you shut the gate, locking yourself in. Backing into the far wall you braced for departure. Panting as you closed your eyes to steady your breathing.
The sound of shrieking metal made your eyes flash wide open. Only to see Sevika, or rather her prosthetic arm, breaking through the ancient metal gate. A look of sheer determination on her face. It made your knees buckle and for the first time since the chase started, you felt the pure fire from your wrist. A whimper escaped you. Being this close to her without the needed physical contact to complete the bond, was truly torturous. That same fire seemed to fuel her in a different way. She made eye contact with you and a gasp escaped your lips. Different emotions seemed to move through her at a rapid fire pace. Smugness, want, annoyance, desire, and settling somewhere between frustration and confusion.
“Why are you running from us?!” She demanded. Passionate silver eyes searching you, as if you had the answer embedded into your skin.
An almost electrical tension filled the space between you two. As if the universe itself was tired of your shit and was pulling you towards her.
Before you could answer the shoot groaned as it tried to take off.
With Sevika’s arm still inside.
A pained noise escaped the brute of a woman. Without thinking you rushed towards her to untangle her arm from the gate, before it took her arm with you to topside. But as soon as you were within reach, her organic arm shot out to pull you towards her through the small opening; Hitting the top of your head in the process. Without a moments hesitation her warm lips were on yours. Your own falling open in a surprised gasp. A hum left her lips as the burn in your wrist immediately subsided. Feeling her smirk into the kiss as the soulbond was solidified, You launched yourself away from her as the lift attempted to take off again, and this time, she let it.
‘See you around sweetheart.’ A smug voice promised in your mind.
A voice that didn’t belong to you.
#sevika x reader#arcane sevika x reader#arcane sevika#sevika x silco#but not like that#arcane imagine#arcane imagines#arcane silco x reader#silco arcane#silco x you#sevika x you#arcane#soulmate au#Sevika x reader x silco#:readmore:#Ours:Arcane
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August’s Box of Mystery
Summary: He left you all alone in his great castle by the sea and requested that you shan't touch yourself... can you keep your loyalty?
Prompted by @gotnofucks: “How do you feel August would react to knowing his girl uses sex toys when he is away? Would he feel jealous? Angry? Turned on?More importantly, what does he do? 👀”
Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type)
Words: 3k
Warning: 18+, smut + romance and fluff in the end. Female masturbation with a sex toy, voyeurism, sex-tape, cockwarming, mildly rough unprotected sex, breeding, breeding as punishment if to be exact, slight denial, MaleDom, creampie, a lot of it. Read the warnings properly, please.
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts it and claiming it as your own.
A/N: I am anxious about this one and hope you’ll enjoy, i’ve been rather influenced by Angela Carter writings. Many thanks to @the-soot-sprite @wondersofdreaming for feedback and @agniavateira for her review. Added notes and credits in the end!
Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed my work. 🖤
August’s Box of Mystery
Outside the bedroom window, the waves roared in a tempest's rage. Torrent after torrent, the sea unleashed brutal tentacles onto the salty iron rocks in a keen, vindictive urge to dismantle them to nought.
It was your own unruly longing that the ocean sensed: forlorn and listless, lying on your bed, the blue mist cloaking your heart.
August's sea-fort was a gilded cage. He had given you everything: diamonds brighter than the moon, sheets made of the softest golden silk, and even a ring to bind you to his unbreakable siege.
His only demand was that you will always wait for him, not only by flesh but soul as well. Despite his dark ambitions, trust and loyalty were qualities August valued beyond anything else.
But soon, you grew tired of watching the reflection of the tides refract upon the naked ceiling. A woman with fire for blood, you were forever tormented by your sultry nature and daydreams of that would make the devil blush.
Frustration gnawed at your bawls until—enough! You shot up from your bed—a storm of silky linen whirling around you like Venus emerging from spume on shore; and just as the goddess of love and beauty, you too yearned to be penetrated. Nibbling your nails, you glanced at the open door, your mind seeing beyond thick walls into his office where he kept a chest filled with illicit delights.
Every now and then—when August's muse struck—he would bring one of his toys to the bedroom, but you weren’t allowed to play on your own.
Body.
Soul.
‘Certainly, August won’t be able to tell if I would be careful?’ You hoped and followed the oceanic breeze hymning from the corridors.
Sand stuck to your bare feet, the wooden planks gently wept beneath your stride. Tipping on your toes, you snuck into his cavernous study, the key stolen from his nightstand already seized between shaky fingers. Though August was absent, your heart thrummed with ire upon setting foot onto the furry rug, as if he was to appear behind you at any given moment.
It was a room that reeked of debaucheries of all kinds: "borrowed" works of art depicting naked nymphs adorned the cherry-wood shelves, divine entities hung onto the wainscoting, and trophies he kept from his victims were encased in a fancy vitrine. Even the slate-blue view felt different from this spot; the rocky piers seemed like a pathway to a marine graveyard.
You paid no mind. You knew who you married and gained nothing but ethereal bliss whenever August fucked you against the window for the shark and whales to see.
Like a girl crawling into the rabbit’s hole, you took half a twirl. There, below the large monitor plastered to the wall, stood the locked chest. Black and gold roses ornamented its exterior and a trident crest was engraved on the lock. Only a fool would overlook such blatant temptation, and though you were no foolish girl, you were feeble at the face of seduction.
Falling to your knees, you made haste to unlock the chest, your heart drumming in your ears with the notion that you defied the words of your strenuous lover. But the same muscle that pumped you with fear, pounded wickedness into your blood.
If only you were blessed with a shred of your husband’s patience.
All the toys inside were placed in order, sanitised, and appropriately boxed in such fashion that you knew August would notice if something was misplaced. The man had the capability of finding an eyelash on the carpet. Still, unrelenting desire strung the cunning finger you ran over the loot, carefully picking one of the familiar vibrators he used on you before.
'Here?'
Standing at the centre of his tidy office you contemplated, suddenly aware of how the room leaked of his entity; scented notes of old leather binding and his woodsy cologne threatened to adhere to your skin, making this mischief taste like a crime. It was best to keep all disobedient whims in an isolated location, you assumed and allowed your eyes to further drift and glide upon the large monitor and the antique desk where August kept the remote. An abrupt wicked idea swam into your mind, reminding you of his private collection.
Catalogued alphabetically, he kept them on his streaming device.
'It should make things quick...' you convinced yourself whilst nibbling on your bottom lip. How worse could it be, anyway? You already rummaged through his chest. Taking a gander at his not-so-secret directory was puny in comparison.
With your lungs in fists, you slipped your panties to your ankles and settled on the cosy leather chair in front of his desk. Ignoring the red flag waved by your anxiety, you reached for the remote and clicked the button.
August made no effort to hide his recordings, simply naming the directory as "Films," as if it contained ordinary Hollywood blockbusters. Impatient, you scrolled down the list, trying to keep the jealousy from simmering in your bawls. August wedded you in this fort, but he never captured you on film like he did his girls. All lovers from the past, of course, but still it almost irked you; yet you brushed these concerns away and picked a file with the name you liked most and pressed “play”.
The ocean's lament was instantly swallowed by guttural howls and grunts that took every empty space within the chamber. Before your flaring eyes appeared the most forbidden of spectacles— your husband taking a different woman. It was odd to hear the familiar timbre of his groans laced with the voice of another. It was even stranger to sense the unmistakable spark of desire jittering in your cove.
Poseidon himself could not compete with the glory of the man, naked and drenched, all muscles and might. Furious, he took her on her knees, his fingers cradling her skull, pushing her head to the pillows while restraining her wrists above the small of her back. She wasn't you and still you clenched, aroused by the sight of the sweat glistening the fur of his torso and by the lack of mercy in the violent motion that ended with the dutiful grind of his sac against her swollen lips.
You hadn't even realised how shamefully you dripped upon the oxen leather of the seat, your thoughts focused on the odd mixture of envy and lust that penetrated your blood.
Desperate to unleash the monstrosity building within your core, you spread your legs over the desk and pressed the toy between your slippery petals. A shuddering whine rode your breath at the brush of the buzzing device, the pleasure so unimaginable it nearly drowned your senses. Gasping, you fought to maintain a hooded gaze upon your lover and his ‘whore,’ and imagined that the rosy silicon phallus that entered your anticipating hole was his swollen cock.
Your walls quickly clenched around the toy in true longing while the window trembled under the muffled rumbling of thunder. Perhaps your passions thickened the clouds. Or maybe it was the immoral streak of ecstasy laced by danger. Whichever it was, it urged you faster toward imminent bliss.
The other woman’s moans entwined with yours while your wayward hand mimicked the rhythm of bodies slamming together in the same frantic chaos that swept you.
Sweat-riddled, your ankles lost way across the smooth surface of the desk, leaving oily markings in a frenzy as climax drew close.
‘Almost…’
‘Almost…’
‘So close…’
‘August!’
"Enjoying yourself, my little princess?"
Lightning painted the room bright purple, announcing the thunder that tore through the ocean. It wasn’t half as frightening as the low timbre of his voice, which cruelly withheld your ecstasy. The fervour in your veins turned glacial; one moment you ascended to the heavens and the next, got rejected at its golden gates. All the while the growls of his reflection on the monitor echoed through the chamber along with the buzzing toy still buried inside you.
It granted no pleasure now, but further stretched the guilt.
Calm and forebodingly stoic, August reached a curious hand between your quaking thighs, seizing the toy and flicking the switch off. Unable to lift your gaze to meet his severe face, you struggled to swallow and kept your eyes glued to the monitor. Yet, there was no escape from his reflection—the “real” him present in the room peered back at you through the glassy screen. Standing behind you, he etched his fingers around the headrest of the chair and tutted.
“Do you like watching me with others, sweetling? Did this video make you wet?” he asked curiously.
Before any words formed on your quivering lips, his hand fell to your mound. An intrigued “hmm,” flowed from his throat as he found you overflowing with arousal. Like a whore, you couldn’t help but squirm into his touch, your body still enraged of being denied pleasure, and so was the sky that now threatened to turn the ocean upside down.
You nearly gasped at the heavy patter of rain that began to hit the window.
“I…”
“Disobeyed me,” he completed the sentence, his voice mellow and pleasant though the caress of his breath on your face burned.
“...missed you.”
Your attempt to pacify him did not go unnoticed. Lips stretching to a slanted grin, he dared to replace the toy with two fingers that drove inside your gaping hole—sensing how you wrapped and suckled around his long digits like a carnivore plant.
“Such a sweet gesture,” he retorted, “and still, my love, my dear wife who I’ve given everything to, has defied me like a lawless brat…unable to wait for her husband to return from his very important meetings.” His dainty fingers pumped crudely deeper, not to please you but remind you who you belonged to.
Writhing in your seat, you fluttered your eyes shut. “Where were you?”
Ignoring your question, he leaned down, his lips mere inches from your ear and whispered, “I think it’s time I’ll tame my bratty woman for good, don’t you?”
You shuddered to think what punishment he had in mind, your heart sinking to a dark pit at the deadly kiss he offered next to your ear; but then, he took your wrist and in a surprising tenderness guided you from the chair to bend over the desk.
Predictably, the movie had run its course and started again from the beginning, her promiscuous moans and the pounding of their flesh stealing your attention for a split second.
Having you at a disadvantage, August drew an invisible line from your spine to the curve of your behind, his fingers mimicking lines drawn on soaked sand. “All this sea salt in the air around us and your skin is still so tender,” he murmured lovingly and secured a hand around your nape, holding your head forward.
It excited you to watch them before and now with his groin hot and hard against your bare crease you were nothing but craving his cock.
“Is this going to hurt? Will you spank me? Treat me like that whore on your film?” you asked naively, smoothing your sweaty palms across the antique wood with dark anticipation.
“No, my beautiful angel.” his belt clicked and dangled like a set of heavy keys of a warden toying with his captive, “You are not my whore, but my wife. Which is why I’m going to put my child in your reckless womb to end your wicked ways once and for all.”
A gasp of shock left your throat, dazed by his threat you turned to protest. But the air drowned in your chest and your entire body stiffened as August’s ‘leviathan’ split your succulent flesh. Vulgarly you were penetrated, his size stuffing you so deeply, you felt the aching pressure in the pit of your belly.
August stilled for a moment, lingering at the sensation of your hot cove fitting around him in both a strenuous protest and the pathetic defeat in which your body seized the beast, milking it in an attempt to rope him into your womb forever.
“Oh, my sweet wife, I will stretch your little cunt to sheath me that not even these toys will please you. You see, everything here belongs to me, even your defiant womb. And I will leave a piece in me there to teach you a lesson.”
“I don’t think I am ready!” You whined, but the thought of being bred and carrying his child made your cunt unwittingly twitch. Your canal sucked him even deeper if it was even possible.
August sensed your convulsion and growled, his hips pressed unfathomably tight against your rear, making your cheeks ache from the press of his bones. It was torture with the film playing right in front of you; falling into a lucid delirium, your mind replaced her with yourself, yet your August refused to move, withholding your pleasure, owning it, owning you.
His cock anchored hot and thick inside you, its throb as powerful as the thunder hammering the ocean.
You wanted to cry.
“August, please! I need you! I missed you!”
With a harsh pull, he drew back and bludgeoned your crease, his might so vulgar the tip of your toes levitated from the ground. Again, and then again… he grunted at the choke of your flesh around him. Paying you no courtesy, he shook and pounded you almost terrifyingly as meticulously as he did this woman.
His fingers burnt around your waist, so harshly you thought you’d never be able to sense anything but his grip under your skin.
“Oh!” fat tears rolled down your cheeks, your breath a wheeze. Piteously you crumbled onto the desk. Thunders, cries, sounds of rutting flesh, and grunts surrounded you in this cavern of sin; you didn’t know which were yours and which were from the recording. All you knew was that he never took you so zealously before, you were at the brink of either rapture or falling to the abyss.
“You’re too deep! Too rough!” you wailed, unable to adjust to his pace but truthfully you didn’t want him to slow down. Currents of bliss submerged your loins the rougher he fucked you. The hot tingle in your core stormed with every collision of his cock with your cervix.
August reached from your neck to your jaw then and held your face to the screen.
“You wanted to watch her while touching yourself. Do you want to be her?” he growled and increased the pace, splitting through your body the way Dagon ripped open the waves.
Even if you had words, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
“You can never be her my darling,” August said and removed his hand from your hip. There was a quick drag of his drawer behind you and a rummaging sound. “Here, I’ll make us a short film; memorise this moment when you conceive me an heir.”
Struck by his words, you turned to stare. The sight of him behind you, inside you, was far more worthy than any film: sweat trickled down his messy curls and arduously strained face, his cerulean shirt damp and his mouth open as his fingers clutched the camera that was directed to the point where you were joint.
Unrelenting, your orgasm flooded through every muscle like a wave of destruction that wrecked every organ within you until you felt nothing but bliss. You felt August’s heart beating in yours.
There it was. Euphoria.
You drowned in it. The maelstrom inside you swallowed and sank his ship as well. With a loud shout of surprise, he broke apart and erupted inside you, his creamy gift ploughing your womb until it overflowed and dripped down your quaking thighs.
The rumbling from outside eased now, the clouded sky groaned with a release, their tears melding into the ocean never to be seen again.
August remained inside you, his breath thick, his hips gingerly grinding into yours to make sure his seed will take.
“There you go, my special girl.” his voice came huskily. “Now you will never be alone, unlike these women I can’t even remember.”
Your hand instinctively snapped to your lower belly, soothingly caressing it in a reverie. You felt battered, full, and disgustingly and arousingly dirty as he swam inside you.
Yet the thought that he impregnated you made your heart flutter.
Was there a more eternal symbolism of love than a legacy?
“August…” you whispered. Beneath you, the desk slightly shook, little tremors vibrated against the delicate pads of your fingers. Turning your head back, you offered him an enamoured glance and reached a hand in plea to lace fingers with his.
His storm-kissed eyes softened and he broke into a sigh at the sight of his wife at her best submissive behaviour. The greatest of all delights was to refine a crude rock into a fine delicate diamond. Proudly, he took your hand in his, entangling your fingers together, yet he kept the video-camera aimed at your joint bodies.
“Don’t move,” he breathed behind you and carefully pulled out his shaft from your flooded hole. A velvety chuckle played on his tongue, impressed by the wet plop and thickness of the cream that leaked off your entrance. Your cheeks burnt as you realised what he has done; your lips parted open to complain but then, with his cock already fully rigid and thick, he plugged you once more, shoving his seed back inside you.
“What are you doing?”
“Waste not, my angel,” he tutted and remained still, brushing his knuckles up and down the curve of your rump.
“Oh, how long?” you whined, uncertain if you are capable of staying this way with him throbbing between your taut walls.
“Until the sky clear up?...” he suggested, voice haunted by lingering satisfaction.
The waves of your previous orgasm were yet to ebb, and now stronger tides began to emerge. Frustration grew within once again and sadly, August’s will had the mettle of an anchor.
“At least tell me where you were!” you yelped.
August scoffed, and wrapped his hands around your waist, only slightly guiding you back into his hips. “No, no, my love. Every marriage needs a little bit of mystery, as you’ve already learned. But now do me a favour,” he uttered and placed the remote next to your hand.
“Play us another one? We might be here a while.”
Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Themes Inspired by Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber. Leviathan inspired by @sillyrabbit81!!
Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible.
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Of Jealousy and Friendship - Pt. 1
Topic number 2 won in the vote to be written next! So without further-a-do, let’s get going!...This ended up being a two part thing. Oh Well. Here’s part one. - B
GN! MC
Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen.
Part Two: Here, Epilogue: Here
It all started in magical potions.
When you first arrived, the course wasn’t so bad since you took it with Beelzebub. The two of you always partnered up; the hour would consist of you jokingly scolding Beel for trying to eat ingredients and making light hearted jokes with one another whenever the teacher turned their back.
But once the second semester started, Beel was moved out of the course as it had gotten too expensive to keep him in a class where most of the subject matter was edible.
Which left you alone and bored in the classroom as the teacher went on and on about Mandrake roots and what they can be used for. You let out a heavy sigh and plopped your forehead onto the desk.
A soft snort came from beside you. You glanced over to see a demon with his feet propped up on his desk staring right back at you out of the corner of his dark green eyes. He smiled at you with a tilt of his head.
“The lectures are a total snooze fest right? I joined this class cause I thought we’d be making potions and causing stuff to explode. Not sitting here twisting our thumbs all day.”
You bit back a laugh as you worried glanced over at the professor, who was none-the-wiser to the little conversation the two of you were sharing. You looked back over to the demon. His dark skin caused those hauntingly green eyes of his pop out at all who met his gaze, with carefully trimmed and styled black curls sitting stylishly on the top of his head. There was a playful and mischievous energy to him that reminded you of Belphie, Asmo and Mammon.
“Unfortunately suffering through this section of class is mandatory to be allowed to mess around with the fun stuff.”
The demon groaned and threw his head back. “Urgh, that’s so unfair. What’s the worst that can happen? The potion explodes and kills us? Newsflash teach, we’re already dead.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at that one.
“Well actually the worse that could happen, for you at least as I am a very mortal human, is that you’d suffer the consequences from one of the potions. Anything from shrinking to de-aging to charms, all kinds of things. I’ve seen the effects of a potion gone wrong a number of times during my time down here. Trust me; you don’t want to be on the receiving end.”
He looked over at you with an analytical eye as the corners of his lips tilted upwards. “So you’re the human that everyone’s talking about.” He trailed off, and glanced over at the teacher to make sure they weren’t looking before stretching out his hand towards you. “I’m Cane. You know despite being the talk of RAD, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mention your name?”
You took his hand into your own and lightly shook it. “I’m MC.”
Cane leaned back into his chair, “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name and face to that glowing reputation of yours, MC. I see your pretty good at this potions thing, and I hear that you’re a lot of fun. How about you meet me downtown for supper later and we can study and get to know each other a little better?”
Your initial instinct was to agree, but then you paused as you thought of the brothers. “I don’t know. I don’t think that Lucifer or the others would like it much if I went out on my own.”
The demon huffed and light heartedly rolled his eyes. “You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me. I may not be as powerful as them, but I’m still a pretty good fighter.” He teasingly placed a gentle punch onto your shoulder, “Besides, it’s not like they’re boss of you. Are you really going to let a bunch of snobby Lords keep you from making the best of your time in the Devildom?”
That last remark hit a nerve. If there was one thing that had spread quite quickly about you around RAD, it was that you were known for being a little reckless, prideful, and never being able to back down from a challenge, and boy did that statement have you itching to prove him wrong.
You smiled, a sharp dangerous smile, at Cane. “I’ll go. And we’re going to do so much more than just go to a lame restaurant and study. You want to have fun and take risks? We’ll have fun and take risks. Whatever you want to do...to a degree,” you added in quickly remembering that you were talking to a demon and if you didn’t implement any boundaries there was no telling what you’d get yourself into, “I’m in.”
Cane’s eyes sparkled as his smile widened. “Damn. I guess it’s true that you’re a bit of dare devil. Alright, you’re on. Meet me at Hell’s Kitchen a 4pm. We’ll study and hit the books as promised, but afterwards...Get ready for the night of your life.”
***
The brothers were concerned.
You had rushed into the House of Lamentation after school and sprinted to your room, changed out of your uniform and promptly shouted that you were “going out” before taking off before any of them could complain.
Mammon had tried to argue that someone should follow you, and while that wasn’t a terrible idea, Lucifer wanted to give you the question of the doubt. Worst case scenario, you come back home a little scratched up and learn your lesson about taking off into the dangers of the Devildom.
At least that’s what he had thought when you had initially left.
It was now bordering midnight, and you had yet to return home.
So yeah, the brothers were very concerned.
Mammon was pacing and ranting about how this all could’ve been avoided if they had only listened to him for once.
Leviathan was trying to distract himself with his game, but everyone could see the worried glances he kept throwing to the entrance and clock as the minutes ticked by.
Satan sat near where Mammon and would occasionally scold or correct him, and sometimes even throw in his own ideas on what could be done while he thumbed through a book on location spells.
Asmodeus was strangely quiet, sitting near the fire by himself with arms wrapped around his torso as he stared into the flames. He would occasionally move a hand to wipe at his face before it went right back to hugging himself.
Beelzebub had lost his appetite. He sat next to Belphie, taking comfort in his twin’s presence, while Belphegor pretended to be unbothered and asleep, even though his mind was racing with the many stupid situations you could’ve gotten yourself into.
And Lucifer...He just sat in a door near the entryway, his eyes fixed on the entrance as he silently waited.
Finally, just as the clock stroke midnight, they could hear your recognizable laugh from behind the door.
“Oh my god! That was incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in life!”
Leviathan stiffened at the statement, his hands gripping tighter onto his game.
“What did I tell you? I promised you the night of your life, and I sure as Diavolo always make sure to deliver,” everyone froze at the sound of the teasing male voice. “Though I didn’t expect the Seven Lords’ precious human to be a complete bad ass. You were amazing out there.”
Leviathan mumbled something before getting up and leaving the room. Mammon growled lowly and looked at the others, “Anyone know who the hell that is?”
Asmo finally stood, wiping at his face as he did, and began to stride towards the door, “Why don’t we find out?”
Without waiting for a response, Asmodeus swung the door open and pulled on a bright smile as he reached out and wrapped an arm around you. “MC, darling, you didn’t tell me you were bringing over guests! Don’t tell me you’re trying to have fun without me?”
You blinked up at the Asmo before smiling softly at his tactics. “Oh, hey Asmo! I didn’t expect you to be up. Cane here was just dropping me off.”
The demon in question didn’t even so much as stiffen as Asmodeus’s dangerous stare shifted over to him. Instead Cane stood there, relaxed, with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him and allowed a bit of his demonic aura to exude around him. “Oh really? At this time of night? Makes a demon wonder what kind of mischief the two of you had gotten up to,” while maintaining eye contact with Cane, Asmo rested his chin against your shoulder. “You know dear, if you wanted “fun” that badly all you had to do was ask. I assure you I could’ve shown you a much better time.” He purred and softly kissed your shoulder.
You shivered, missing the way Asmo stiffened as he noticed something, and swatted at the Avatar of Lust as you moved away from him. “Down Asmo. It’s nothing like that. Cane’s in my magical potions class. We went out to study together and decided to hit a couple clubs while we were out. No biggy.”
“If it’s ‘no biggy’ then why were you out all night without giving us any kind of warning of where you were going or how long you’d be out?” Everyone whirled around as Lucifer stood in the doorway with a frown etched on his face and his arms crossed. He took a step closer to you before freezing mid-step, his nose twitching. His eyes flared red as they fell onto Cane. The lower demon tensed and curled his hands into fists, but seemed to be refusing to back down. Lucifer snarled, “What exactly was it that you said the two of you were up to tonight?”
You frowned and stepped between Lucifer and your new friend. “Hey! Stop it! He didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re implying. And I wasn’t aware that I needed permission for every single thing that I do!” You snapped poking his chest as you moved into his space. “So excuse me for wanting to go out and enjoy myself for once!”
Whatever fear Cane had been showing, quickly slipped away at seeing you stand your ground against the mighty first born. “Yeah. What they said.”
Lucifer growled and caught your hand into his own, pulling you close and leaning in, “You’d be wise to remember that you are in the Devildom and surrounded by beings that have no where near as good intentions as you’d assume. Being so reckless and naïve down here could get you killed again, I thought you had learned that.” His tone was cold and unapologetic as he practically spat the words in your face.
You glared at Lucifer as you yanked your hand out of his grasp. There was so many things you wanted to say to him, but none of them would be right to say in front of an audience. You huffed and turned to face Cane. “I am so sorry about those two. Thanks again for tonight and bringing me home. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”
Cane gave you a side smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. I had a great time hanging out with you. Hopefully we can do again...under better circumstances. Goodnight MC.” He took a step towards you and pulled you into a hug.
You smiled, wondering how Lucifer and Asmo could be stirring up such a fuss about a guy who had been nothing but kind to you, and gently hugged him back.
What you couldn’t see, was Cane making direct eye contact with the two other demons, as one of his wrists gently brushed up and down you back and he very lightly nuzzled, so lightly that you could just barely feel it, his face against your neck.
“Hey, what’s takin’ everyone so- WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!” Mammon stormed forward and yanked you out of the demon’s embrace, already changing into his demon form. “Who the hell do you think you are scenting our human, huh?!” He lifted Cane off the ground by the collar of his shirt, causing the lower demon growl as he scratched at Mammon’s hands.
You yanked on Mammon’s jacket and arms and tried to get him to back off. “Woah! Mammon, relax! It was just a hug!”
“No it wasn’t,” Satan grumbled as he and the rest of the brothers (excluding Leviathan who was now sulking in his room) stood in the door way. “The fact that you don’t know that makes this even worst. But this isn’t a conversation we should be having out here.”
Beel stared down at the demon with a fierce glare. “You should leave while you’re still able. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay away from MC.”
“Wha- Beel! Cut that out!”
Cane took a step backwards, fear beginning to spill into his expression as he finally realizes just how out-powered and out-numbered he is. Still, he was stubborn pain in the ass; it was part of the reason he had been so drawn to you in the first place as he related to your reckless habits. He held Beelzebub’s glare and returned it with one of his own. “I think that MC can choose for themself who they do and do not hang out with, thanks. They already said they wanted to see me tomorrow so they will. We’re friends after all. And classmates,” his grin sharpened as he continued. “I do have to thank you, Lord Beelzebub, for that opening in magical potions by the way. Never would’ve got in if you hadn’t been kicked out.”
Before he could say anymore, he was met with a punch in the face. Belphegore lazily shook out his hand and his looked at Cane with an unbothered expression. “I believe we told you to leave. Now get. The. Fuck. Out.”
Cane scoffed and turned to you once more. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Dare Devil.”
You would’ve snorted at the nickname, but you were to distracted from the brother’s behavior. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe, Cane.” With another nod, the demon left; leaving you alone with six of the seven brothers bubbling with jealousy, anger, and concern.
#OBEY ME#shall we date obey me#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me lucifer#obey me asmodeus#Obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#shall we date#obey me fic#obey me fanfic#fanfic#my writing#Of Jealousy and Friendship#Bumble 🐝#bumble b#b writes#jealous#gender neutral main character#gn!mc#oc#crack taken seriously#demon brothers#obey me demon brothers
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In Safe Hands [G.W.]
Character: George Weasley
Word Count: 4339
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: George is just very attractive and his hands are even more attractive.
WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. including oral (female receiving). also a lot of mentions of hands, arms and veins bc i canny control myself apparently.
Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @obsessedwithrandomthings @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff | message or send an ask to be added to my smut taglist - you must be 18+!
Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: i put two requests for my event together as i decided to write a full fic based on george’s hands purely because prompt 9, which both requesters selected, refers to hands - enjoy!!
Prompts used:
3. “I may or may not have left some... marks.”
9. “God I love your hands.” “Let’s put them to good use then.”
23. “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly.”
49. “Behave.”
~*~
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
+ + + + +
You’d always liked George - why wouldn’t you? He was funny, charming, handsome. You’d be stupid not to. It had started back in Hogwarts - you were friends with the twins; close friends. And that’s all you thought of them as, until one fateful day in your 7th year where you made the regrettable decision to meet the twins after one of their last games of Quidditch before Umbridge had banned them, and George had emerged from the Gryffindor tent freshly showered, shirt hanging over his shoulder, trousers low on his hips.
And that’s when you’d realised you liked George as much more than just friends.
You hadn’t known how to deal with him at first, how to act around him, once you’d realised how you felt. Because every time he laughed, every time he ran a hand through his hair, you felt yourself positively swooning, as cliché as it sounded.
It took a lot not to accidentally blurt out your feelings to him, not that you were helped by Fred, who noticed the slight differences in your behaviour - holding onto hugs from George a tad longer, the way you looked at him when he didn’t realise, how flustered you got when he’d rest a hand on your knee - and made it his mission to make your feelings as obvious as possible in front of his brother.
George must’ve been the most oblivious person however, as he never noticed the hints or the longing smiles. Or maybe that was because he was busy trying to stop Fred from making his own crush on you so obvious, trying to hide his own longing smiles, and the way his eyes lit up when he made you laugh.
The twins had left Hogwarts soon after you’d realised your feelings, in a fit of fireworks, and then suddenly you were dealing with Umbridge alone, with her detentions alone. Not that you blamed them for leaving at all - you knew they were out living their dream and all you could wish to do was support them. It didn’t make being at Hogwarts any easier though, dealing with all the Educational Decrees. However, you thought the space and distance would help you to get over George, and it did.
Until you saw him again in his shop. The twins had sent you a letter in the middle of your NEWTs asking you to come and work for them, an offer that you gladly accepted, however arriving at their store on your first day - after the initial overwhelming feeling of pride at seeing how well their store was doing, how successful they were - you knew you weren’t at all over him.
He stood there, a smirk etched on his face, suit fitted to him as he crossed his arms over his chest, standing on the stairs in the shop as he looked down at you, and your felt your heart racing, cursing yourself over still being so hung up on the man.
His eyes slowly took in your appearance - you’d worn a cute sundress, due to the warm weather, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders and George felt his own heartbeat quicken.
He’d fancied you since his 6th year, most likely before that, the realisation hitting him when he had seen you dancing with some prat from Ravenclaw at the Yule Ball, when you should have gone with him. After that, after seeing how utterly stunning you’d looked that day, with your ballgown and hair done, he knew he’d never be able to look at you the same.
And even now, after not seeing you for months, you didn’t fail to leave him speechless, so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes that he couldn’t help but look at you as though you’d hung all the stars in the sky.
“Long time no see, eh love?” He spoke, moving down the last couple of steps and towards you, “Still gorgeous as ever.”
You grinned at him, “Always the charmer, eh Weasley?”
He chuckled, opening his arms to wrap them around you to bring you into a warm hug, one you gladly accepted as you wrapped your own arms around his waist, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, making you grin. He rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.
Merlin, he thought being away from you had lessened his feelings for you but in that moment, with you in his arms, he was struck with the same realisation he’d had in his 6th year - that he was in love with you.
And, unbeknownst to him, as your grip around him tightened a little, the hug lasting a tad too long to be friendly, however neither of you mentioning anything about it, you’d come to the same realisation.
Which brought you to now.
Being around George again was amazing, you had to admit. And whilst you hated the way you kept fumbling with products, or how clumsy you’d get around him - something Fred still loved to tease you about - you also adored how he made you feel, how happy, how content - he made your life that much better, a light in an ever increasing darkening world.
You’d been working with the twins for a few months, and it was amazing, truly a better job than you could have predicted. What made the job difficult, however, was trying to keep cool when George walked around looking like he did, interacting with the guests, making the children laugh at his jokes.
Godric, could he get any more attractive?
He’d seemed to up the ante this week, almost on purpose you swore, constantly walking around in just his shirt and tie due to the summer heat, the lack of a jacket meaning you were faced with doing your job and working with customers whilst also trying not to stare at the way his shirt fit snugly around him, or how his forearms were showcased due to him rolling his sleeve to his elbows, veins appearing any time he tended his arms, whether that be due to moving things around the shop, demonstrating how certain products worked, or lifting and moving heavy equipment.
The latter of which currently occurring, as Fred had left George alone to deal with a delivery after the shop had shut.
You were stood at the Pygmy Puff display, moving cages around and making sure they were well looked after when you heard some grunts coming from the store room, as if someone had picked up something with a lot of weight. You then heard footsteps behind you, making you pause with the last - feisty - Pygmy Puff in your hand, the rest having been put into their cages.
You turned around, breath hitching in your throat as you took in the sight before you. Namely, George Weasley holding what appeared to be quite a heavy box, if his staggered breathing was anything to go by. He’d shed his jacket somewhere in the back, along with his waistcoat, leaving him in just his shirt, which was tightly fitted and, you noticed as he placed the box down on top of another cardboard box, stuck to him a little with sweat from the heavy lifting. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his forearms, and you found yourself gulping as your eyes wandered down the prominent veins, to his large hands, one of which was pulled through his messy ginger hair, pushing the strands out of his face.
And he had no idea.
He had no idea at all that suddenly you couldn’t focus, that suddenly all the breath had left your lungs, that suddenly all you could think about was how his hands would feel on you, holding your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs. How his fingers would feel inside of you.
George looked over at you and shot you a grin, one that made your heart race even more than it already was, “Bloody big delivery today, eh? ‘S what happens when I let Fred order the ingredients.”
You gave him an almost starstruck smile, which he accepted gladly, before reaching up and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling at his tie to loosen it, your jaw dropping almost comically as you secretly watched him.
He noticed halfway through his action that you’d gotten extremely silent, your mouth open ever so slightly and George wondered if it was because of him. Merlin he hoped so, because if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, well, he’d be happy to take you right there and then against the till counter.
He turned away to disappear back into the stockroom, biting his lip as indecent thoughts filled his mind, heading to grab the next couple of boxes.
Back on the shop floor, you took a deep breath, rubbing your eyes and cursing yourself. You should not be stood ogling your best friend, much less your best friend who was also your boss, no matter how attractive he happened to be. You should be going through the boxes to separate ingredients out, helping with the displays and doing your job.
But no, instead you were stood, still holding the Pygmy Puff that was now trying to escape your hands, imagining all the things you wanted that man to do to you. And what you wanted to do to him.
Merlin.
You popped the Pygmy Puff into the cage, and wandered over to the box that George had just brought in, trying to push the thoughts of how you could see the outline of his abs through his shirt away as you began pulling out different ingredients.
He came back around the corner, holding two boxes this time, the top one covering most of his face due to the size, allowing you to stare longingly at the way his fingers were wrapped around the edges of the boxes, gripping tightly. You bit your lip as he turned from you to place the boxes down, watching as the shirt moved closely against his back, accentuating his shoulder blades as he bent down and Merlin did you wish you could see his muscles without the shirt.
“Need any help?” You managed to stutter out, trying to act as if you hadn’t been staring at him. Still bending over as he sorted out the boxes, he paused his actions and looked up at you, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Don’t you worry at all, love, I’ve got it, I am extremely strong after all,” he winked, and Godric, didn’t you know it, “You just stand there looking your best, that’s all the motivation I need.”
And suddenly you’d forgotten how to speak, how to breathe. You just nodded, though he didn’t see as his attention was back on the box in front of him. You watched him sift through the products, fingers moving nimbly, occasionally bringing out the odd jar or packet, sometimes throwing it in the air and catching it before placing it to one side.
He brought out a smaller box of vials, which he held from the top, placing it in front of you and gripping it tighter to emphasise his hands when he saw your gaze lingering.
He smiled to himself, pushing his sleeves up - making you swallow harshly - as he pretended not to know you were watching him, all the while flexing just for your benefit.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting over to him, couldn’t help that watching him be so efficient with flipping glass jars in the air and holding different ingredients made you that much more attracted to him. You couldn’t help your thoughts racing, thinking about asking him to use his hands on you and-
“Godric, I love your hands.”
Your eyes widened in shock as his head turned to you, your own hand covering your mouth as you realised what you’d just said, and you began stammering out, “I-I... I didn’t mean- I- George-“
George gave a pretend look of shock, as if he hadn’t purposely been working you up for the last however-long. “You like my hands?” He asked with a smirk, glancing down at them before his gaze fell back on you, taking in the sight of you being so flustered. You got lost in the way his eyes held yours, and you could do nothing but nod slowly, making George bite his lip and step forward.
His heart was racing at your confession, not quite believing it was happening but very much wanting to do something with that information, “If you like them so much, let’s put them to good use.”
“W-what?”
George looked you up and down, his tongue darting out to wetten his bottom lip, “You like my hands, and I wanna use them on you, darling. You going to let me?”
You took in the way he was looking at you - like all his dreams had come true, like you were the only thing he cared about, like he loved you. “Absolutely,” you breathed out.
And suddenly his hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him as he brushed his lips against yours, savouring the first few moments of you being so close to him, before kissing you properly. His lips were soft, moving against yours in a way that, had you not have known any different, you may have thought he’d been kissing you for years. It felt familiar, yet with an added layer of something new. A kiss that made your skin feel like it was on fire, that, as he angled his head to deepen it, made your stomach flutter, and mind race.
It was so perfect, even with the occasional bump of your noses - so perfectly George - that you didn’t want it to end. He pulled away a little, pressing more kisses to your lips before he began moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your skin, making you let out small, breathy moans, feeling him smile against you.
You ran your hands down his chest, playing gently with the buttons and pulling his tie completely off, and heading towards his belt as he licked the skin just below your ear.
Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you also “accidentally” brushed against the evident tent in his pants, and he pulled away from you to grin, “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly, love.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and bit your lip at him, making his heart beat a little faster, “Your fault for bringing that delivery in so attractively.”
You’d managed to unbuckle his belt and pulled him back in for a kiss, him mumbling against your lips, “Might get Fred to order stock more often then if this is what happens.”
He led you over to the stairs, stumbling a little up the bottom two steps before trapping you against the banister for a moment, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you, his tongue easily gliding into your mouth.
Between kisses, and George pulling your shirt off, you made it to the apartment above the shop, heading down the hallway and bumping into the cabinet that was stood between the bathroom and Fred’s room, before arriving at his bedroom door, which he nudged open with his feet, bringing you inside.
He held you by the waist, fingertips tightening a little as he pulled away from the kiss for air, and to lift you up so he could throw you onto the bed, the impact making your breasts bounce and George breathed out a, “Fuck, c’mere.”
He crawled on top of you, your back arching into the mattress as your arms looped around his neck, playing with the tufts of ginger hair at the base of his neck as you brought him back in for another kiss. Your hands moved down to begin unbuttoning his shirt, something you’d been imagining all day, before throwing it to the other side of the room, George doing the same with your bra.
A few moments later, you’d both shed the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare against him, breasts pressed against his chest, his arms either side of your head, supporting his weight above you. You could feel his breath hitting your hitting your lips, his face centimetres from yours.
In stark contrast to the compromising position you were in, George looked down at you with love, a look that warmed your heart as you gave him a small, almost shy, smile.
“You know I- uh- I love you, right? I’m in love with you, darling.” He looked almost vulnerable as he said that, his eyes flickering across your face as his lips parted a little.
You lifted your head up so your forehead rested against his, hands clutching his shoulders, “I’m in love with you too, Georgie.”
“Me or my hands?” He joked, making you shake your head and laugh. You pretended to think for a moment before replying, “Maybe both.”
“Let’s see if I can make you come from just my hands then, shall we?” He grinned, making your heart race as his fingers danced down your stomach before pressing against your clit.
“So wet for me,” He commented, circling it slowly, smirking at the way you let out little breathy moans, before he entered a finger into you, taking advantage of the way your back arched in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it, gently nibbling as he pushed his finger in and out of you, before adding a second finger, stretching you out a little.
“George,” you breathed out as he moved to your other breast.
He continued moving his fingers against you, in you, and you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure building in your stomach.
After being so wound up from watching him, you knew it wouldn’t take much more to reach your high, and as he continued to kiss your breasts, you breathed out slowly, almost embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to turn you into a pile of mush at his touch.
“I’m close,” you whimpered, as George moved from your breasts to your collarbone, his thumb adding a little more pressure to your clit as his fingers moved.
Picking up his pace ever-so-slightly, he brought you closer to your high. He felt you clench around his fingers and pressed a kiss to your jawline. “Come for me princess,” he whispered against your ear in a low tone, making you shiver.
George watched the way you closed your eyes, mouth open and head tilted back as your high washed over you, pleasure running through you, and felt himself harden at the sight.
His fingers continued moving against you, although at a slower pace, and your hips jolted towards him at the overstimulation, “‘S a good girl.” He leant forward, pressing his body against yours as he kissed you gently.
“Think you can come for me again, love?”
You were breathing heavily from your first orgasm, though with the way his fingers were moving against you, you knew you’d be reaching your second before you could properly catch your breath. You nodded at him before he began trailing back down your stomach and settled himself between your legs.
You shivered as he lightly pressed kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his hands squeezing your hips, before he licked into you, making you gasp out and clutch the bedsheets tightly. Letting out a moan as he pushed a finger back into you, you closed your eyes, head falling back against the headboard as you breathed out heavily from the way his tongue was moving against you.
You bucked your hips against him involuntarily, causing his free hand to push your hips back down and he looked up from between your legs, his eyes catching yours as he smirked against you, “Behave, darling.” You moaned as the vibrations of just those two words travelled through you, the hand not enclosed around his heading towards his messy hair and running through it, pulling at strands as you felt his tongue flatten against you.
Feeling your second orgasm creeping up on you, you wrapped your legs around his head and let out a moan as you felt George groan against you. Your second high felt more intense than the first, and the feel of George’s tongue pushing inside you made you moan out loudly, the feeling taking over you before you relaxed against him, legs falling onto his shoulders.
“You look so pretty when you come,” he grinned, moving back to hover over you. He pressed himself against you, rocking his hips against yours, arm muscles tensing as he held himself up over you.
You whined a little at the feel of him moving against your sensitive clit, making him smile.
“You ready for me, princess?”
You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “Always, Georgie.”
At your go-ahead, he pressed a kiss to your lips and eased himself into you, making you both moan out. “You feel so good wrapped around me, love,” he praised as he pulled out of you before pushing back in again, “Taking me so well.”
He moved against you, skin brushing against skin, his spare hand moving to touch any place he could, running his fingers down the curves of your body, before biting his lip as he pulled his hand from yours to grab your wrist, taking your other one from around his neck and holding them above your head, making you whimper as his arms flexed.
“Do you like what my hands can do to you, love? How I made you come from nothing but my fingers?” He groaned against you, feeling himself edging towards his own high.
“Yes... yes!” You breathed out, your eyes closing as you felt your high arriving fast, “George you feel so good.”
George groaned again, feeling you clenching around his cock in the same way you did around his fingers. He leant forward to kiss you, still holding your arms above your head and suddenly pleasure coursed through your body, and you sighed against his lips, him twitching and coming inside of you soon after with a deep growl.
He fell against your shoulder, pulling himself out of you before laying beside you, letting go of your wrists as you instinctively curled towards him.
George’s eyes wandered over to you, a smile small playing at his lips, taking in the way your hair was falling across his pillow, your eyes shut as you breathed heavily, eyelashes fanning across your cheeks, your hand resting on one of his biceps.
His gaze travelled across your neck and down to your collarbones, then across your breasts, a smug smile gracing his face. You opened your own eyes, catching his shit-eating grin and raised an eyebrow at him wearily, “What’s that look for?”
“I may or may not have left some... marks,” he replied cheekily, biting his lip, pupils blown wide as he took in the sight of you marked by him, pressed up next to him.
Your jaw dropped a little and you shook your head with a laugh, “Oh bloody hell, Georgie!” You stood up quickly and headed to the mirror across the room to check, fighting the urge to both laugh and smack him when you saw the red and purple marks littering your skin.
George sat back on the bed, eyes raking over your body, enjoying the sight of your bare bum and back, and found himself biting his lip and imagining all the things he wanted to do to you that night. His eyes lingered on the curve of your bum and he fought the urge to grab you again and pull you down onto him.
“I like them on you, they look hot,” George said with a grin, and you playfully glared at him in the mirror.
“You would think that.” Turning back around to him, you just missed the way his gaze flickered to the marks on your breasts and up to your neck, George feeling extremely proud of himself and his work.
“Yeah, it just shows people you’re mine I guess,” he shrugged unapologetically and gave you a smug grin, looking you up and down as you walked back over to him.
“Oh I’m yours, am I?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and unintentionally accentuating your breasts to him, making him let out a groan as he reached for you.
“Of course you are.”
He pulled you back down onto him like he’d imagined before, your bare chest against his own, his large hands holding your waist as your nails gently scraped down his arms.
“Fancy a round two?” He asked, one of his hands already beginning to head back towards your clit.
Your eyes closed as you sighed contently as you felt his fingers press against you, enjoying the feel of him, “I could be convinced.”
As you were straddling him, you felt him harden more than he was against you, and you opened your eyes to meet his own, darkened with lust, his fingers still moving against you as his other hand gripped your hip.
“Oh princess, how about I make you come for a fourth time tonight? And then again. And then again. And again after that. Would that convince you?”
You bit your lip, pushing yourself against his hand and grinned at him, “I reckon it would. Or maybe I’ll just ride you instead.”
He picked up the pace of his fingers against you, and you let out a moan from above him as one of your own hands covered his on your hip, making him smile cheekily at you,
“Ride me then, darling, and then I’ll make sure you can’t walk in the morning.”
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley smut#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#4.6k follower drabble event#hp#harry potter#all queue have to do is follow the spiders
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The Royal Ball
The Royal Ball
Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader
Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?
Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending
Word Count: 3.3k
Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
Requests are open loves <3
Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name
It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.
“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”
“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?” Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.
“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.
“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.
“Really? Can you produce illusions?”
“No.”
“Look inside other people’s heads?”
“Well, no, but-”
“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”
“I still can’t believe you did that”
“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.
His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.
We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.
“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper
“Tired of what, love?”
“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.
“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”
Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.
“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?
Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.
“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.
“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.
“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.
“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.
I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.
“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.
“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.
“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.
“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.
“Y/F/N, don’t-”
“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.
“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”
“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”
“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.
“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”
“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”
And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?
--------------------------
He didn’t.
After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.
I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.
I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.
I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.
Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.
“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”
“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”
“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”
“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.
“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”
With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.
“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.
“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.
“Thank you. As do you.”
“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.
“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”
“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.
“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.
It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.
“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.
So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.
Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.
------------------
“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp.
I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.
“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.
“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.
“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”
“Ye-”
“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.
“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.
“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”
“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?
“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.
“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”
“I- I’m sorry?”
“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.
“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.
“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”
“Charlie.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me
“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”
Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.
“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.
“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.
“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”
“Charlie.”
“I know, that’s what I said.”
I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.
“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”
“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.
“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”
“You were making fun of him.”
“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.
“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”
“Well-”
“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.
I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.
“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”
“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”
Is he serious?
“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”
Silence.
“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.
His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.
“Ple-”
“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?
He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.
“Not Chelsey?”
“For the love, it’s Ch-”
I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.
“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.
“I bet I'll be in yours.”
“Always are, Darling. Always are.”
taglist: @horrorxweasley
#loki#Loki Laufeyson#Loki Laufeyson x Reader#loki x fem!reader#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki odinson#loki odinson x reader#loki odinson x y/n#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki fluff#loki angst#loki laufeyson smut#loki laufeyson x reader smut#loki laufeyson oneshot#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x y/n#thor odinson#loki fanfiction#loki fan fiction
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Oh god!
I really love the poly headcanons they are so sweet.... (or don't but that's part of it and i think the tot boys+MC deserve all the love the world has to give).
But, liking it or not, our 4 beloved boys are kinda complicated (that's what makes them perfect). Plus I never thought about how people get in poly relationships. So i was thinking, how do you think they all get into a polyrelationship together?
(I really have no idea of how that would happen)
hi, two anons!! im glad you guys liked my nxx team polycule stuff!! i'll answer these in one go, my "headcanon" (in quotes because i think this kinda turned into a character analysis/minific of sorts HAHA) being what first anon asked, How They Get Together.
heads up, wc of this is 1.9k words long so buckle up for a bit of a read jfsjdfkjbf
because first anon, youre right!!! the boys are stupendously complicated which i love so so much but canon has also shown us clearly that each of the boys' quirks and habits and tendencies causes a lot of (mostly played for laughs) friction. the bickering, the backhanded insults, the "im the best one here" preening contests. theyre all SOOOO RIDICULOUS and it is hilarious but yep! the boys r complex!! and that means this beautiful ship, imo, has a lot of phases to get to the actual romantic relationship bit.
how they get together, in my opinion, starts because of mc.
not in the sense that she matchmakes them all, but like.
phase 1 of the nxx team polycule is this:
through being in love with her (which we all know the boys 100% are), each of the boys come to terms with their own flaws and weaknesses. it's very apparent to me in all the story thus far that these boys are flawed as hell, it's very compelling but even more compelling to me is how all of them also do intense mental gymnastics to Not Confront Those Flaws. like, marius is a dickbag always teasing and toeing the line of insincerity, vyn is a controlling mf who always tries to sway situations to his benefit, artem is so repressed to the point that he has genuine trouble with emotions, luke is a self sacrificial bastard and also a huge hypocrite about how no, actually, hes the only one that should be hiding his pain and being dishonest, no dishonesty from other people!! in the beginning of the story, all the boys have their flaws and seem to have just kinda...not addressed how those flaws are harming them and the people around them.
and then mc rolls around and they all fall in love with her. and she sees those flaws and she doesnt let them slide. she challenges the boys in her own ways to see another side of the situation, to acknowledge what theyre doing. she doesnt want to get rid of flaws, thats impossible and also not cool. she just has this beautiful hope for like, all of humanity, that goodness can prevail with the right work. so when she sees her beloved nxx boys, she believes that for them as well.
which leads to phase 2 of the nxx team polycule:
the boys, more aware of themselves, become more aware of each other.
they werent Unaware of the others of course. it's just that they didnt like...truly connect on a personal level just yet. they saw the other teammembers with their emotional armor and flaws and saw a wall that wasnt worth looking past.
but after mc makes them realize that hey, flaws arent the end of the world actually, it's alright and the person behind them may just be worth it, the boys like. end up understanding the others. A LOT OF THIS BIT IS UNINTENTIONAL, ON THEIR PARTS KJDSBFS. like they stumble into understanding each other by accident, they didnt plan it, but over the course of nxx investigations, it's inevitable that they end up seeing the depths of the others. i delve into this a little bit in my fanfic "filler eps of the lost gold" where the boys are just going thru their actions and then trip over another boy's fears or desires and through that, gain a deeper understanding mutually.
and with understanding, sometimes, comes trust.
phase 3 of the nxx team polycule goes like this:
everybody in this team, whether they like it or not, whether they know it or not, has a heart that wants to give love so desperately.
marius lives in a world full of snakes so he cant have his heart on his sleeve for his own protection. vyn wants to be seen as perfect and the heart is inherently messy so he holds it back. artem for a very very long time was focused on work and success and achievement that he neglected his heart. and luke has been giving love all his life in a sense but in a way thats hidden.
all these tendencies that are brought upon their life circumstances results in this: they want to love honestly but they havent been able to do this
until mc. and all of them want to push back whatever fears or patterns their life has instilled in them because they see her and see somebody so unwaveringly good that all their hearts begin giving love to her to make her happy and to make themselves happy as well.
but heres the thing. the boys dont just see mc. by this point, they have connected and understood and come to trust each other as well, and the consequence of that is that They Can See Each Other Now Too, Truly.
and heres the thing. all of the boys are unwaveringly good as well.
one by one, each of the boys realize that what they feel for the other boys in the team starts to...change. yeah theyre all friends, they pick on each other a lot of the time, but the bedrock of the relationship is solid and strong now. but when marius is with luke, marius sees a light inside of luke so bright that he seems unaware that he gives off. when artem is with vyn, artem sees a goodness inside of vyn that hesitates to make itself obvious and known because vyn is scared of getting hurt thanks to it. all of them see the other and their goodness and, unbidden, their hearts want to give love to each other as well.
and because theyre all a bit stupid in their own way theyre like, huh, weird! wonder why this feeling is so familiar! and yet i cant seem to name it...and then they all independently compare these feeling with the feelings they have for mc, a feeling they do know the name of, and theyre like.
WAIT.
THESE FEELINGS ARE...VERY BASICALLY EXACTLY WHAT I FEEL FOR MC.
which only means one thing: theyve fallen in love with everybody else
marius: //goes to his studio to Think and sees that a bunch of his recent art actually had little crumbs of these feelings already, etched into the brushstrokes and scenes. has an emotional crisis about it
vyn: //records a 1 hour long entry in his audio diary to examine and gain control of his feelings but by the end of the hour all he knows is that he wants to hold these people and be held by them
artem: //quite literally just bluescreens, artem.exe has stopped working, sits at his study and slowly, slowly, thunks his head down onto his desk, valiantly trying to ignore the fast pulse of his heart
luke: //manically vents about it to peanut who, by virtue of being a bird, doesnt get it. just keeps talking at peanut to get a grasp of it all and then lies down on the floor, overwhelmed
mc, sitting in her apartment watching some netflix: ...why do i inexplicably feel as if something very, very important has just happened?
phase 4 of the nxx team polycule is basically:
pining: extreme difficulty level
because pining is already hard when ur pining for one person. what more for an additional 3 more people. and those additional 3 more people are pining back.
and all these boys are SOOOO OBVIOUS with their romantic feelings, in their own special way. the way they show their affection to mc starts to bleed into their interactions with the others and everybody can CLEARLY SEE WHAT IS GOING ON, LOL, but also all the boys are too chickenshit to confront it, because if they confront it, what will even happen??? being in love with each other, all of them, thats going to be such a complicated fucking relationship, holy shit. it's 2030, yeah, being a polyamorous group relationship isnt completely unheard of, but sue them, theyre scared.
but mc (who i forgot to mention already knows of the boys' romantic feelings for her, shes just hasnt made a move yet on any of them because SHES IN LOVE WITH ALL OF THEM AS WELL and shes been trying to figure out how the hell to make that work, she cant bear to choose just one of them, she'd be heartbroken over leaving the rest of them behind) sees that the nxx investigation team is now all pining for each other FULLY and she kinda wants to laugh when she realizes whats going on because like, what are the chances? that this would happen? that they all found each other and their feelings fell into just the right place for nobody to be left behind?
theyre all scared, she can tell. and she is as well, she wont lie.
but shes always had a belief that goodness can prevail with the right work.
and love is one of the greatest goods out there.
phase 5 of the nxx team polycule:
It's Time For Communication, Baby!!!!!
the exact scenes of how this happens is a bit vague to me. it could go two ways: mc going to each of the boys independently to talk about feelings, hers about everybodys and his about everybodys as well. OR they have a fucking meeting about it all together and artem literally schedules it in his google calendar, or something.
either way, they like, actually talk about this. starts casual, maybe over a chill date, maybe over dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe over a walk in the park as the sun is starting to set. but where ever it happens, the end result is the same: a heart is laid out bare and it is taken in gentle, grateful hands.
marius: OKAY, NOW THAT THE FEELINGS ARE OUT OF THE WAY, CAN I PLEASE KISS ONE OR ALL OF YOU, PLEASE, IVE BEEN WANTING TO KISS U GUYS FOR FOREVER
vyn, laughing fondly: has anybody ever told you patience is a virtue? we quite literally just talked it all out.
marius: //needy whining noises
artem, embarrassed: ive...never kissed anybody before
luke, embarrassed but trying to play it Cool: ....same here
mc: kissing is great, you two will love it!
marius: awesome, awesome, so is ANYBODY going to give me a go ahead or WHAT????
phase 6 of the nxx team polycule:
i dont want to say it's happily ever after, once they all get together. thats not really realistic.
they all have their quirks and tendencies and habits. and those will inevitable clash against each other. theyll have their arguments, theyll get upset, theyll sulk and be angry, sometimes. but also...
theyll see each other smile and feel like their love shining so brightly. theyll reach out for another's hand and be held in such a way that makes them think that their heart is in a safe place. theyll love each other and theyll put in the work to continue loving each other. because goodness will prevail.
and they all see each other as the most good people in the world.
so whatever happens, theyll get through it together.
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Text
Alpha!Kaeya x Omega!Reader (Smut)
Pairing: Kaeya x You/Reader (Female Reader)
Warnings: Sexual content starts below the cut.
Extra warnings: slight breeding kink and possessiveness.
--------------------------
Alpha's were too possessive.
Beta's were little bitches.
And Omega's were too needy.
Nobody could deny these statements, nor could they determine what you were.
There were many disputes on this matter. Many claimed you are an Omega due to your small and petite stature common among all Omega's. Others called you an Alpha with your feisty and somewhat aggressive behaviour, a trait common to Alpha's, though anyone would be on edge having to hide their scent all the time. So often people determined you were a Beta and left it at that.
Of course not all of them dropped the issue, the matter of fact that you concealed your scent was suspicious, it was something that not many did. Some put it down to the fact that you were still unmated with so more often than not, many over confident Alpha's who were in their ruts, would approach you, their scents stronger and muskier, more alluring than usual, trying to draw out yours, for you to only turn your nose up in displeasure, calling them disgusting.
Which wasn't a lie, all the Alpha's you have met had an over powering scent which was quite unpleasant, you desired something more sweet and alluring, something smooth and soothing, you realized that you would not find that person in your hometown so you chose to move to Mondstadt where you soon would find it.
Now even after you moved away from your hometown to Mondstadt, Alpha's would hound you daily, most of them gave up on trying to figure out if you were an Alpha, Beta or an Omega, you were a gorgeous and mysterious woman, who wouldn't want to mate with someone like that?
And today was certainly no exception.
"Come now cutie, I don't mind what you are, just come play with me, I can show you a good time," an over eager Alpha smirked, confidence dripping with every word. You held your breath, refraining from inhaling his pungent scent that made your stomach recoil.
"Yes so you and every other Alpha in this town claim." You scoffed turning from him, hoping he'd get the hint that you are uninterested. Instead he grabbed your hand pulling you to face him again.
"Unlike them I'm experienced." His scent became muskier with arousal, which only turned your stomach more.
"I could hardly care about your experience, I doubt you're that great anyway," you rolled your eyes pulling your wrist out of his grasp.
Losing his temper the male forcefully pinned you to the wall with a snarl, "you ignorant, untamed, feral bitch, you don't have any idea how many women want my pups. You should be grateful that I'm choosing you." He said it as if it was something to be thankful for, if anything you thought him feral. Before you could retort, you caught whiff of a familiar scent, a scent that sent you into a frenzy, your stomach filled with butterflies but you maintained your composure as you watched a hand grip the males shoulder as they dug their nails in deeply, the male let out a pathetic yelp as he released you to clench his fist and swing at the unknown third party behind him. His fist was easily caught and the males face turned pale as if he saw a ghost.
"C-c-captain Kaeya," his voice trembled, his once self-assured scent filled with fear.
"Lawrence my fellow Knight, I am quite disappointed in you, this behaviour is unbefitting of a Knight of Favouius," the ever cool Cavalry Captain spoke with a low voice.
"I-I apologize, perhaps my rut got the better of me." The named knight Lawrence shook.
"Its not me you should apologise to," Kaeya narrowed his eyes, nails digging deeper into his shoulder, you were certain he drew blood. Lawrence swiftly turned to you and bowed deeply.
"Please miss (Y/N), accept my deepest of apologies," he didn't move from his bow.
"Fine, just go away," you didn't care at all for his apology you just wanted him gone.
"Yes of course! You won't see me again!" Kaeya removed his hand from the other knight and he ran for it. Leaving you and the blue haird captain alone. You sighed deeply slumping against the wall you were still leaning on.
Kaeya reached out but decided against the notion, for he feared of your rejection. Although it wasn't the first time he's interacted with you, and even if during those numerous times you never told him to go away, or to go fuck himself, he still kept his distance. He didn't know when your attitude might change.
"Are you okay?" Kaeya spoke softly with concern. Even his scent that smelled like sweet wine and snow pine was etched with concern. Your face flushed, trying to keep yourself concealed was getting harder, the fact that you were going into a heat cycle right now didn't help, his scent was quicken the process. Around any other male it was fine, since their over-bearing scents had the opposite effect on you.
"Yes I'm quite alright Sir Kaeya," you smiled softly. The Captain couldn't help but chuckle.
"Come now, just Kaeya is fine," he gave a smile, not one that he showed to other people, but a genuine one.
"Alright then...Kaeya." It felt nice saying his name like that. If you stayed with him any longer, you knew you would do something you'd regret. As if he read your mind he spoke.
"Here, allow me to walk you home." He tilt his head to the side motioning his hand in the direction of your house. You gave a curt nod and walked with him to your house. It wasn't a long trip to begin with but it ended far too quickly for your liking as you soon found yourself standing outside your door.
"Thank you for taking the time to walk me home." You unlocked the door and turned back to give him a grateful smile.
"It was my pleasure. Have a good night (Y/N)," he gave a small bow before turning on his heel walking away.
Quickly you entered the comfort of your home, letting out a small whine, finally able to stop restricting your scent, the strain on your body lifting as the hallway was quickly filled with your smell. Your body began to burn, a fever being brought on by your heat. Swiftly you made your way to the stairs, but stumbled on your way. You reached out with your arm to the dresser in the hallway, your body slamming roughly into it causing the vase to fall and shatter loudly. Too caught up by the burning in your body you curled onto the floor letting out deep breaths. All you could think about was Kaeya, which all it did was made things worse for you.
Outside Kaeya hadn't gotten even three feet away before his ears picked up on the commotion coming from inside. His body tensed, as he rushed to the door but stopped. He wasn't the type to just barge into a lady's house but this was you he was talking about, he would never forgive himself if something had happened and he could've done something to prevent it. He'd apologise later for entering unannounced. So he opened the door and before he could even take one step inside your scent hit him in the face like a ton of bricks, your sweet yet salty Omega scent. Gods, you were an Omega after all. He breathed it in deeply, his wild and primal Alpha instincts were telling him to take you there and then but he shoved those feelings down as he watched you lay on the floor hot, bothered and so very, very vulnerable. He's never seen you like this, he's certain nobody has ever seen you like this. In your haze you could smell him, it smelt so good, so comforting.
"Kaeya," you mewled softly. His body froze, did you just call for him? Snapping out of it he swiftly closed the door, locking it, he didn't want anyone else getting in the way, he also took his boots off placing them next to your shoes. Slowly and gently he made his way over.
"Yes, I'm here," he called out ever so softly. You were startled, in a daze you sat up leaning against the dresser you had previously tumbled against, you weren't expecting him to actaully be here, or perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you. Yet his scent was too real, but you were still unsure so you spoke.
"Are you real?" Your face reddened from your fever your hand reached out towards him. Instantly he took your hand in his and pulled you to him, you were surprisingly light. He held you tight against his chest, as he sat against the wall.
"What do you think?" He whispered softly. He held you close, your face pressed into he crook of his neck, where his scent was strongest. You pressed your nose against his neck inhaling deeply as you gripped his clothes. Kaeya let out a shaky breath feeling your breath against his skin. He could feel his control slipping but he had to keep it together, he would let you lead tonight, or until given permission.
"Kaeya, it's too hot," despite your statement you pressed your body closer to his, your hands delving into his clothes.
"I know," he spoke softly, he used his cryo power to cool his hands sufficiently and touched the back of your neck to try and cool you a bit. You arched your back letting out a desperate moan.
"Kaeya please," you whined now pawing at his clothes. His eyes thinned his voice low and husky.
"I don't want you to regret this, if you let me do this, I'm claiming you, marking you as mine. I won't allow anyone else to touch you," his cool hand that was on your neck moved to your chin to lift your head up to look at him. Despite your hazy state you understood what that meant, if he claims you, he would be your mate for life and you didn't want it any other way. So in response you smashed your lips against his with need.
Kaeya let out a small groan gripping your hips tightly. His tongue slipping into your mouth, his tongue rubbed against yours, caressed the inside of your cheeks, delving deep into your cavern, tasting you, unable to get enough. You moaned into his mouth some saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Breaking the kiss, Kaeya removed his lips from yours, he smirked and licked up the saliva. You out a needy sigh leaning in to meet his lips again, for Kaeya to lean away putting his finger your lips.
"Come now darling, I don't think this is the place," he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, after all this was about you. You couldn't help but growl softly when he stopped but appreciated his consideration.
"My bedroom isn't far," you spoke softly against his finger giving it a quick lick before grabbing his wrist and pulling him up with you.
"My, someone is certainly eager," he teased as you practically dragged him up the stairs. Throwing the door open you made your way to your bed where you made your nest, where many pillows and blankets were built up. Kaeya felt a tingling sensation, you could've taken him to a different room but you took him here instead. Holding himself back was indeed a challenge and then some. You had let go of his wrist a few seconds ago now, you were sitting in the middle of your nest looking at him.
"Kaeya why are just standing there? Come here." You patted the space beside you. You were inviting him in, into your sanctuary, into the place where you spend most your time nurturing and raising your little ones. The tingling sensation inside him grew. He was becoming unsure so he asked again.
"(Y/N)...are you sure?" His voice low as he stood at the edge of the bed.
"Kaeya I may in heat and needy but I'm not incapable of choosing my mate," You held out your hand to him with a smile. Kaeya returned your smile and took your hand. The bed dipped as he leaned his body weight onto it. He crawled into the centre with you as he watched you lay down onto your back offering your submission to him.
And just like that, the last string of Kaeya's restraint snapped. Grabbing the hem of your blouse he ripped it from your body. You gasped lightly in surprise, it was unexpected. Kaeya did the same with your bra freeing your breasts. The moment your chest was bare his face was buried into your neck. His tongue lapped on your scent gland, your back arched pressing your chest against his. In response he pushed down against you pinning you to the bed. You let out a mewl wrapping your arms around his neck, a hand finding it's way into his luscious blue locks. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck.
"Kaeya please." You pleaded rubbing your leg up his side, instantly you felt his teeth sink into your neck.
He has marked you.
He has claimed you.
You are his now.
And nobody can take you away.
"Kaeya~" you moaned loudly.
Your mind began to swim, you couldn't think straight. All you wanted was him. You needed him.
"Kaeya, my Kaeya, my Alpha, please," you panted softly, "please fill me, give me your pups, please." Your sincere desperation drove him insane.
Kaeya removed himself from your neck to make quick work of both your clothing. He watched as your pussy glistened with your slick. As much as he wanted to plow into you right now, he knew he should prepare you so it wouldn't hurt as much, so he slid two fingers into you. You gripped his hair slightly arching your back, a gasp type moan escaped your lips. His fingers easily entered and exited your pussy. He made a scissoring motion, stretching out your walls. Your legs twitched in anticipation. Being impatient Kaeya deemed that you were ready. With the fingers coated in your slick he stroked himself a few times before lining his dick up with your pussy.
"I'm going to fill you real good baby, so good you won't be able to think of anything else but me." With that he pushed himself deep inside you, until he was fully inside.
You let out a cry of ecstasy, throwing your head back, "yes Kaeya!" With your neck exposed to him once more he latched onto it, leaving multiple love marks all the while thrusting mercilessly into you. Endless moans escaped you lips as you gave yourself to pleasure and instinct. Kaeya lifted his head from your love bitten chest. His fingers dug into your hips as he watched your wither beneath him. The sight of your disheveled body aroused him greatly. Hooking your legs over his arms, he spread your legs further, this new angle allowed him to hit that delicious spot inside you. Your walls clenched around him with every thrust to your g-spot. Kaeya growled deeply feeling the knot form at the base of his dick. Once it swelled he wouldn't be able to pull out, releasing inside you would be inevitable. But you did ask for it and he won't disappoint. You could feel his knot start to form, your hand gripped the back of his neck pulling his face close to yours.
"Don't you dare stop Kaeya," you warned him. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Wouldn't dream of it princess. I told you, I'm going to fill, I'll fill you with my pups and I won't stop until I do. Until your stomach is swollen with my pups," you moaned into his ear you before biting down on his scent gland, marking him as yours.
Claiming him as yours.
"Fuck," he groaned feeling his need for release approaching like a storm.
Kaeya captured your lips in his.
"I promise I'll take good care of you," he panted, sweat coating both your bodies. He gave you a small smile as you gave into your release. Spurred on by your release and the tightness of your walls, Kaeya came deep inside you. You felt his seed warm up your insides making it's way to your womb. You let out a satisfied moan.
Slowly and gently Kaeya put down your legs giving them a small rub. He caressed your hair as he waited for you to come down from your high. Once your breathing returned to normal you opened your eyes and met Kaeya's blue orb as he gazed down at you lovingly. Your heart fluttered.
"I won't be able to move for a few minutes so bare with me okay." He spoke softly moving into a more comfortable position for both of you, rather than staying on top of you. Instead he moved onto his back so you could lay on his chest. He held you close rubbing soothing circles into your back. You closed your eyes in content.
"Kaeya, did you mean what you said?" Your eyes opened to look up at him still resting your head on his chest.
"About what? I said a lot things." He chuckled softly. You blushed softly twirling his hair.
"Well about everything."
"Of course I did," he cups your cheek leaning in to kiss you on the lips sweetly, lingering long enough for you to want more before he pulls away ever so slightly, "I love you."
You blushed with a smile, "I love you too," you said capturing his lips with yours.
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