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nymphbunnyys · 2 years

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How will Asa, Bo, Michael, Jason and Jesse react to the fact that their girlfriend already has a child?

This is kind of adorable and the idea of such scary men with such little beings kills me. All of these will have the kid as a female because…. I don’t know, but scary men with the sweetest little girls is too cute to me.

I’m doing peepaw Myers because… yes. May be a bit out of character for him but I’m sorry he deserves some love man.

Michael Myers

- if I’m being honest at first Michael ignores your kid completely. As much as he can I mean.

- he.. loves you, yes. But it’s not his, and even if it was I doubt he’d pay much attention to it either. But he’d never put your kid in harms way and he’ll remind himself to be extra careful when he’s around them.

- he won’t admit it… but the kid starts to grow on him. One night, you’d manage to get Michael to actually sit down with you and your daughter for dinner, his fists sat completely still atop the table, eyes burning at the food that your daughter decided not to eat.. to which Michael did the same. He refused to eat. You knew your daughter had a fondness over who she called “mommy’s big monster” she was always at his heel, tugging at his sleeves, trying to get him to play games with her. Fuck she even called him daddy on occasion. But he refused.. silently blowing her off every time. Until now.

- the phone rang endlessly, annoyance running through your demeanour as you left the table to pick up the phone, answering to your daughters father. Michael knew by now that the conversations had always ended horribly, and so did your daughter.. His eyes averted back towards her, watching as she sulked at the piece of chicken in front of her. He blinked before watching his hand grab his fork and take a bite into his chicken, nodding with a soft smile on his face. This was unlike Michael. This wasn’t Michael’s usual characteristics. But something about the way your daughter sat.. oh so sadly over hearing mommy fight over the phone. Too many memories were brought back to him and he was determined to not let her feel those things. He softly leaned over towards your daughter, grabbing her fork instead and eating a piece of her chicken, his eyes burned into hers watching as they lit up with shock causing him to widen his eyes and open his mouth pretending to shocked. A soft giggle left her lips, little hands pressing into his white beard to push his face away.

- he chuckled quietly. Letting out a grunt of satisfaction And the two ate together. Don’t worry they sat with you to eat too.

- he probably sits in his recliner with her once he’s grown more attached. She’ll be curled up, little legs on either side of his sides head full of messy hair, thumb in mouth and comfy on his chest while they watch her favourite Disney princess movie under a warm blanket. It’s a cute site, such a vile monster with such a sweet little angel, something about her brings a soft side out of Michael not even one you could bring out.. and he’s alright with it.

- he could get used to this.

Bo Sinclair

- he really doesn’t care too much, he’s definitely a bit nervous whenever you’re daughter is around, he knows her dad isn’t in the picture so he feels like he’s got some shoes to fill and it freaks him out.

- his nerves more or so come from his own problems. It being, he’s afraid he’ll be like his own father. Even though your daughter isn’t his.. the first day he met her he felt like he had some responsibility over her, felt some sort of protection over her. So yeah.. his fear of turning out like his dad and treating your daughter the way he was treated haunted him for a while.

- Bo loves her like she’s his own honestly. He’s always carrying her, making sure she’s eating properly, giving her baths, taking her on rides outside of the town.

- Bo has a set rule that every Friday It’s “daddy daughter day” that means no one’s else is allowed to be with the two. He’ll get her dressed and they’ll go on a trip to the park, go to her favourite stores. Get her favourite snacks, have picnics, whatever she wanted really.. Bo spoiled her rotten. And it was always the best day ever.

- your daughter is glued to him like super glue. Most nights you can’t even sleep properly because the two take up the whole bed. She follows him everywhere he goes even into his garage. Little does she know.. she’s a big help when luring victims in. All Bo has to do is pick her up and set her on his hip, and she’ll have the victims gushing over her cheeky little smile.

Jason Voorhees

- big boy is very scared. Not of the kid but.. just. Being around your kid? Like I said, big boy. He’s big. The fear of knocking your kid over, or doing anything to harm them is utterly terrifying to him.

- mask stays on if she’s ever around. He’s too scared of making her scared of him it’s the last thing he wants, for your kid to be scared of him and you hate him for it.

- he’ll take her on fishing trips. When the cabin is silent and no campers are around he’ll drag the old boat his momma tucked away in the old storage shed, getting your daughter to help him push it into the lake. Even though her little arms couldn’t actually push the boat he’ll make sure she knows she did most of the work, pointing towards her arms to show her how strong she is.

- it’s a tight fit for him, his legs are tucked towards his chest and his arms are struggling to move around as the boat can’t really carry him but he makes sure your kid as enough space to sit comfortably. Holding her little fishing rod with a happy smile on her face.

- I think having your kid around makes him.. also feel like a kid again. Except, a happy kid. She heals his inner child. Most nights, he’s fallen asleep with her, he’ll be cuddled in her little bed, her pink and purple blanket covered over his shoulders while she snuggles close to him under the blankets, book in hand while she reads him her favourite bed time stories. He won’t sleep until she’s asleep just so he can make sure she’s safe.

- he likes to bring her things. Wether Jason be out tending to campers he’ll always come back with something for your daughter. Teddy bears, jewelry, stories the children kept around the camp, and so on. He’d even make her things. Now he wasn’t really crafty but he did his best. Making her dolls out of sticks and so on.

- safe to say he loves her very much. He’s her big teddy bear. And she’s his little teddy bear.

Chromeskull/Jesse Cromeans:

- Now. I know I said Bo spoils his s/o’s daughter but Jesse. Now that is different. Your daughter is spoiled spoiled. Gifts whenever she wants, whatever she wants, wherever she wants. Now he doesn’t just spoil her he spoils you both rotten. Your his girls, he’s gotta spoil you both.

- he’ll 100% have tea parties with her. Once work is out of the way he’s home sitting in her chair with a pink tutu too small but he’ll manage, nails painted pink and a pretty princess crown atop his head. His large hands will grab the cup and bring it to his burned lips, pretending to sip whatever she decided was in the cup.

-“aren’t I a pretty princess?” The text to voice would come through the phone as you laugh softly at his comment, watching your daughter nod quickly and wrap her little arm around his shoulder, sitting happily on his lap while her other hand place eyeshadow on him.

- he probably met her really young, so she kinda grew up thinking he was her dad. And he was more than happy to take part in that role. so it’s safe to say she’s a pretty big daddy’s girl.

- you’re a bit hesitant to let Jesse bring her to work, but he keeps her in the office sat directly on his lap and that’s where she stays. While Jesse has meetings with Preston, your daughter is playing with Jesse’s blazer, giggling quietly at how angry Preston sounds. Jesse softly scuffing at her reactions.

- she runs around with his mask. You have to tell her to be careful as the mask is quiet heavy, if she trips and falls Jesse would have a heart attack then and there, freaking out like a paranoid mother.

The collector/ Asa Emory

- he’s a bit.. distant from your daughter. I’m not sure Asa is really a family man. But he try’s? For you.

- he’s strict. She’s not allowed near his office. She’s not allowed to touch his things. She’s not allowed physical contact with him. She’s not allowed… really anything to do with Asa. He’s cold towards her, and as much as it pisses you off part of you can’t really blame him?

- Asa had.. a pretty traumatic childhood and due to who he is now, bringing that upon yet another person I don’t think he could handle it. Especially someone so young.

- although he has his rules, he isn’t always like that. He’s very much the same as he was with you. He was cold, there was rules and then.. they were slowly forgotten about. He came around. Slowly, but surely.

-it’s different with you of course, and he still turns a cold shoulder towards your daughter from time to time, but he’s began to bring her things. A porcelain doll as of recently made its way into your daughters room. Sat perfectly atop her dresser, she wore a baby blue dress, hair blonde and curly, eyes bright blue. Her lips were cheery red along with her blushing cheeks. She looked, kind of like your daughter. Maybe it reminded Asa of her?

- when bringing it up he’ll refuse that he did it, get mad at you even for thinking he’d do something like that. God y/n you know how he feels about your daughter why would he give her things? But he’s wrong, he knows he’s lying, though he’s not a family kind of guy there’s a part of him that really does care about her. But he scares her, and he knows he does. He’s scared to hurt her, so keeping himself distant is his way of trying to not scare or hurt her.

- but he does open up more. One night you left the two alone, begging him to watch her as something came up for work and you really needed to be there. She had already been in bed so it wasn’t entirely a big deal. Until it was. She woke up an hour or two after you had left, leaving Asa sat completely still and quiet on his sofa listening to your daughters feet softly tiptoe towards him.

-“Asa..” he slowly looked over his shoulder, his knuckles turning white from gripping onto his jeans. She rubbed her eyes softly, letting a soft yawn escape her lips. “Yes.” He uttered, trying to keep his voice down not wanting to alarm her. “You think… you could read me a story” she paused quickly looking at him properly. “Please.”

- fuck. How could he say no..

-so he stood up slowly, walking past her towards her room, stopping once he stood in her doorway and looking back at her. “Well come on. Let’s get you to bed bug” he may have shocked himself with the sudden nickname, but he only told himself it was a way to soothe her.. no other reason at all. Her smile melted him, watching as she hurried past him and hopped into her bed, grabbing onto her cockroach plushie. Yeah. Honestly you thought they’d get along considering her love for bugs but because Asa never paid any mind to her, he never really noticed till now. His eyes searched her room carefully not fully realizing her slight obsession. Books about bugs, bug plushies, a butterfly in a jar, etc.

- maybe she wasn’t so bad..

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gascon-en-exil · 9 months

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Sorry if I sound rude Saying this but a woman wearing a short skirt and a cleavage isn't sexualized and acting as if thighs belly button and chest are sexual when they are just body part is the main problem of women not being able to dress how they want and to have t hide some body parts to not excite the male gaze. I agree that FEH is indeed using fanservice but saying that a woman wearing outfits exposing those body part is itself fanservice is wrong beyond limit, especially regarding the Edelgard design since it's very modest and anatomically wrong

Say it with me now:

Fictional characters are not people. They are tools.

What these units wear says nothing about what women should wear, but it does say quite a bit about FEH's artists and their target demographic. If you'd actually paid attention to that post, I was advocating for hornier male character art because that would allow FE's tastelessness to at least feel consistent.

Also, Zettai Ryouiki is the trope I was thinking of - sexualizing the gap of bare skin between a short skirt and stockings. I'm not going to pretend to understand why that's a thing - maybe it's sort of like the joke that Victorian Anglos got horny for exposed ankles? - but it apparently is, and winter Edelgard's got plenty of it.

I realize that part of Edelgard's sexual/romantic appeal is, ironically, that she's "modest" and unavailable to anyone but you the player(-as-Byleth), because straight men have that whole Madonna/whore complex thing going on where women or female characters who are perceived as too sexual or too experienced are somehow threatening or, worse, "used." There's also a TV Trope for that. Given my own experiences and the total absence of that sentiment in gay male culture, it's little wonder that some of my favorite modern FE female characters are Camilla and Manuela - because they've got obviously sexualized designs but are also written to be aware of their own appeal and how they make use of it.

However, you've really got to let go of that "My Girl Is Not a Slut" thing with Edelgard, because IS has no such reservations. Never mind the thigh gap winter alt, we've got

boob armor where previously there was none, for the alt players actually voted for,

a much softer and more human take on the Hegemon,

lying supine in a nightdress, and more exposed thigh courtesy of Cipher,

more exposed skin and basically a camel toe; I also know that Reddit threw a fit over this one in particular, because she's not muscular and/or scarred from the Agarthan experiments,

and an upskirt shot from Azure Gleam that lasts for two whole seconds, in the middle of a scenario where Edelgard is made to take orders from two older men and then reduced to a babbling child.

In the midst of any outrage over my pointing out more examples of IS treating Edelgard like a sex object, I'd like you to turn that feeling around and ask instead: Why does the camera never lovingly linger up a male character's clothes? Why are possessed male characters (ex. Conquest Takumi) never treated like helpless children? Why are there no Cipher cards of any male characters lounging around in nightwear giving the viewer bedroom eyes? When male characters become monsters (ex. Lyon with Fomortiis), why do their FEH versions look the same or even more monstrous?

Oh, wait. Is it because of this? I assume you also sent this.

Funny how when male characters are actually objectified in the same way, then and only then does it become stupid.

People get horny over Edelgard, and IS knows it. People also get horny over naked and mostly-naked men in ways that do not necessarily cater to straight male comfort, although fortunately for you I imagine IS doesn't seem to know or care about that. Take your wins where you can get them, and let the rest of us have our fun.

#Fire Emblem #FEH #Fire Emblem Heroes #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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angelcasendgame · 2 years

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Sorry for this ramble, but seriously. It’s largely people being upset about *their own anticipation* of racism. (Doesn’t make the prequel inherently racist! Feelings are valid, but they aren’t fact!) Yet they still blog about spn, which was racist at many times and in many ways. They still enjoy the content with white men in the same breath they use to condemn the writing of *main characters* who are Latino/Black/South Asian and mostly female, and the hiring of diverse writers and crew. All of which were not common on spn prime!!! I hate the finale too. I didn’t like some creators on the old show. I want more Destiel as much as the next person. But enough to go “well then any attempt at progress or rep will be meaningless and these marginalized actors/crew — under new, actually progressive showrunners and producers — should suffer for it”? Does that make sense?

I won’t speak against other poc, people who are being appropriately critical, or people who just don’t wanna watch. That’s fine. But race-centric call outs I see largely keep coming from white bloggers and it’s just ??? are you serious. I’m a woc btw, hi! And I’d love it if white fans would stop speaking over us and stop using other fans of color who are anti prequel to further their own agenda. We are not a monolith. We are not here to tokenize as fuel for their rage-posting about a cw show lmao. They can watch the show and see for themselves if they care about this so much, or listen to *all* fans of color, not just the few whose beliefs align with theirs. I already see how many of them are perceiving these characters through a white lens and assigning stereotypes. Their anti-racism is about their vendetta against a network that wouldn’t give them Destiel, and a white guy from Texas who isn’t the only creative behind this. And they’re yelling racism without even paying attention to the show or analyzing the content to judge it rationally or having conversations with poc actually viewing the show. Which means they are centering their own feelings, not ours. Vile.

Ohmygosh hello anon!! I absolutely love your rambling, thank you so much for it!! And yes I 100% agree with you!! Like so many of the criticisms I've seen as reasons to not watch the prequel have been completely excused for a show they're continuing to engage in. I don't mean to be harsh but people turning up their noses at supporting actual real poc in favour of hating white Texas man just makes no sense. It feels so performative.

Esp considering the poc in the show, they're all new!! This is their beginning!! Nida and Jojo and Demetria are real life actual poc that we're supporting by watching this show!! You would think this would be a time to support them to have more actual poc in the industry but instead their hatred outweighs it all

And you said this perfectly, we are not a monolith, and to only seek out voices that match their own is frustrating!!! For us to be labelled as racists for being excited at characters that we see ourselves in simply because they hate white Texas man so much is so unjust and frustrating

#PLEASE feel free to ramble at any time!!#latika is a south asian woman and carlos is a bisexual poc #i love you MWAH #fantastic fucking points #from one woc to another i am here to listen or get excited or rant or anything related to this #this is all so well said thank you beloved #spnwin #anon #mailbox

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joaquinwhorres · 2 years

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thorough (fckboy!Joaquin Torres x f!Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› When Joaquín texts, you know what he wants. And you also know that despite your better judgement and all of the other things you should be doing, you're going to give it to him.

PAIRING ››››› Fuckboy!Joaquín Torres x Female!Reader (written in 3rd person so you can pretend it's an OC like I do) Read the OC version here.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,928

WARNINGS ››››› Joaquín's pretty out of character because my angel would never. oh yeah, and smut

A/N ››››› This idea has taken over the entirety of my thoughts. It has consumed all of my free time, so I figured I should try to wrangle some of the vibes and vague ideas into an actual story. So, here is this little imagine which is v smut heavy and v plot light. But, I am thinking of turning this into a fake dating/redemption fic, so lemme know what you think! Divider from firefly-graphics (not tagging because this is a work of smut).

A single notification flashed across her screen.

U up?

Y/N reached over, clicking the screen dark. She was up. But not for him. Instead, she turned back to her textbook and the packets of printed out notes strewn across the desk in front of her. The only men who would be getting her attention tonight were the esteemed scholars Sedra and Smith. And maybe Dr. Barnaby if she got around to reading her lecture notes over. He would have to find someone else. And there would be someone else. There was always someone else for him. She just had to hold out long enough for him to move on and go find them.

Her screen lit up again.

Or has circuits put u to sleep? 🥱

This time she rolled her eyes as she dismissed the notification, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. Of course he knew exactly what she was doing. Even if he never acknowledged her, he still sat in the same lecture hall as her and dealt with the same lectures and exams.

Y/N returned back to the textbook example problem, fingers sliding under her glasses to rub at her eyes. She withdrew her hands, fixing her glasses before picking up her pen once more. She needed to stay focused. This test was going to be thirty percent of her grade. If she wanted to pass, she needed to learn how to apply input resistance to both Example 6.11 and her own life.

Oh god. She was broken.

Shaking off the thought of her mental deterioration, Y/N pressed her pencil to her notebook paper, copying down the problem in front of her. Just one more section and a skim through of her lecture notes after this. If she powered through, she could probably finish before three and get a solid five and a half hours of sleep before the exam. Yet, as Y/N worked her way through the problem, her eyes continued to slip over to her phone and the dark glass screen that reflected her desk light back up at her.

Circuits.

Not dick.

Circuits.

Not–

Her phone lit up again.

It didn't kill u did it??? 😱🪦

She snorted a laugh through her nose as she picked up her phone, thumb swiping to unlock it. As she began to type out a reply, the white auto suggestion box popped up.

Not today Satan.

She exed out of her roommate's attempt at a safeguard, as if on autopilot.

Not yet but I am slowly dying.

The three dots in response were instantaneous.

Sounds like you need to take a break. 😉

The auto suggestion box popped up once more as she typed, this suggestion an indictment of both her idiocy and predictability. She clicked on it.

Come over.

Very little studying was accomplished in the time between Y/N sending her text off and receiving the text that he'd arrived. The promise of a break seemed too much for her brain to withstand, and she'd only managed to work out an answer for the RIN before she finally gave in and took off her glasses. After that, she'd only had time to shove her dirty clothes in the closet and straighten her sheets up from where they hung off the bed before her phone buzzed.

Y/N put her phone back down, slipping out of her chair and padding across the still apartment towards the door. Pulling it open revealed Joaquín dressed in a maroon ASU hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. His hair was ruffled, and his own glasses were on.

Evidently he'd been studying for Circuits too.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a soft smile—the same one that he'd given her last fall when they met eyes across the crowded frat. She had known even then exactly what she'd be getting herself into if she smiled back. But there was something about the genuine delight in his smile–the fact that he looked almost awed–that had her lips curving into a smile almost on their own accord. Much like now.

"Hey," he whispered.

Y/N leaned against the partially open door "Hey."

"Is it cool that I parked in the lot?" he asked with raised eyebrows, and she nodded.

"Yeah, they don't usually check for tags at 3 am."

Joaquín breathed out a laugh, hanging his head and shaking it as his own stupidity as Y/N smiled at him. "Yeah, I probably should have guessed that." He looked back up at her with a small smirk, and it was Y/Ns turn to shake her own head before motioning with it that he should come in. He obliged, stepping into the small dark apartment and waiting for her to lock up behind him.

He probably could have made his way back to her room without her, but instead he remained, eyes roaming over the dark living room and kitchenette as if it were his first time there and he was taking it all in. She took this as an act of kindness–a preservation of the little dignity she had left when it came to Joaquín Torres.

So, Y/N quietly led the way back to her room, ushering him in and closing the door as softly as possible behind them to avoid waking her roommate.

When she turned back to him, she found Joaquín bent over her notes, curls falling into his face. He looked intently at what she had written, his eyes following along each line of her solution before he shook his head. "That problem's been kicking my ass for the last hour," he said, tilting his head to look up at her. "Think you could walk me through it tomorrow?"

The sheepish grin he gave her made her stomach flip, and she really should have kicked herself for it. Because there was no way he didn't know exactly what he was doing when he looked at her like that. And he knew that she knew what he was doing whenever he flashed his dimples too. And yet she still couldn't find it in herself to tell him to go to hell.

"Depends how much sleep I get," she said with a shrug, attempting to fix her face into something more smirklike than smiley and feeling like an utter failure at it.

His eyes gleamed mischievously as he straightened up and turned to face her. "How much sleep is enough?"

She shrugged as she walked past him and over to the foot of her bed, setting herself down to sit on the edge and leaning back on her hands. "I don't know, three hours? Four?"

"What if it's two and a half, but I buy you coffee," he bargained, leaning back against her pushed-in chair with his arms crossed across his chest.

"It'd need to be really good coffee."

"Starbucks counts as really good coffee, right?"

She scoffed, and Joaquín laughed softly, his head tipping back as the amusement lit his face up. When he faced her again, it was with an expression of warm amusement. "What if it's Starbucks, but I make sure you thoroughly enjoy all of the time you're not sleeping tonight?" he asked, eyebrows raising up over his glasses as he took a step towards her.

A tingle shot through Y/N as she followed his slow, purposeful movements towards her, and she fought the urge to press her legs together. "I guess that would depend on how thorough is 'thoroughly'." Somehow her voice managed to keep its teasing playfulness even as the look in Joaquín's eyes became more focused, more intense, more hungry.

He stopped in front of her, close enough that the fabric of his sweatpants brushed against her bare knees and she had to tilt her head up just to see his face. She raised an eyebrow at him, and while she had intended for it to be questioning–a prompt for an answer–she couldn't keep the smirk from playing at the corners of her lips, turning the look into almost a challenge.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted a hand, brushing her hair back behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her neck and along her shoulder until they reached the strap of her cropped cami. His pointer finger hooked under the strap and he pulled her towards him by the thin piece of silk, until her head was tipped all the way back just to see his face.

Joaquín leaned towards her, his breath warm and promising more than his words could ever deliver on. "Thorough," he murmured, letting the word kiss across her skin, setting her nerves alight with anticipation before he closed the space and kissed her himself.

It was easy to get drunk off of Joaquín's kisses. She wondered if this was simply a paired stimuli given the nature of their first encounters. If the dizzying effects his kisses had on her was her body remembering the weightlessness of too much Jungle Juice and a cute boy's attention. If the way she seemed to melt into him was a conditioned response from him pulling her close to him so easily even when her limbs felt heavy from Jell-O Shots.

But maybe it wasn't classical conditioning or muscle memory. Maybe it was just the natural biological response to the way his hand took hold of her waist, squeezing at the bare skin there as he deepened the kiss and stepped forward, between her legs. Maybe it was just a natural reaction to feel lightheaded when an attractive boy slid his hand up under your crop top and moved his lips along your collarbone with each kiss like a whispered promise.

Her head lolled to the side, allowing him more room to work, and he took advantage of the newly exposed stretch of skin, placing hot, open mouthed kisses there. Y/N sank her teeth into her lip, biting down into it to keep herself from making any of the embarrassing sounds threatening to spill from her just from a bit of kissing. It was a pointless measure though, for as if inspired by her action, Joaquín's teeth caught at the tender skin on her neck and pulled it into his mouth, sucking harshly. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, dragging him closer to her as he moved up her neck, picking a new spot to nip. A gasping noise escaped her as his tongue swiped over the spot, sounding far too much like a whimper for her own comfort.

Joaquín dragged his lips further up her neck to just under her ear. "Fuck you make the most beautiful sounds," he praised, pressing a kiss below her ear. "Drives me crazy." He kissed her again before taking a hold of her ear with his teeth.

Another noise, much like the first escaped her, and her fingers reached up into the hair at the nape of his neck, threading through the strands and then tugging him backwards and away from her so she could see his face. His glasses had slid down a bit on his nose, and his pupils were blown wide and dark, and she knew, she knew, that whatever happened next, it would be thorough enough.

"Did you come here to compliment me or to fuck me?"

He grinned. "Por qué no los dos?"

She leaned closer so that her lips almost brushed his as she demanded, "Cógeme."

Joaquín practically tore his sweatshirt and shirt from his body, his glasses catching in the material and flying off somewhere with the clothes to a corner of her room. Her own arms were crossed across her middle to pull off her top, but she didn't get a chance before his hands wrapped under her knees and yanked her forward so her back fell onto the bed. He knelt before her, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama shorts and dragging them down her legs.

His eyes snapped to hers as he pulled the silky fabric free of her legs. "Impatient, aren't you?"

Y/N reached down, flicking the side of his head. "It's how I sleep."

"Mhmm," he hummed, disbelievingly as his eyes focused back to her parted legs and her center that was completely bare to him, not a scrap of lace or satin or cotton or anything to shield it from his hungry gaze. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, pausing to press a kiss to the inside of her knee and then trailing a line of kisses and nips up to the top of her inner thigh. Y/N squirmed, and he chuckled, moving his other hand to her hip to hold her in place. "I haven't even gotten to the good part."

"I'm sensitive," Y/N breathed out,

"I know," Joaquín grinned, leaning forward to lick a large stripe through her folds, sending her arching off the bed with a gasping moan. "Qué buena estás."

And then he dove back in.

There were a lot of reasons why allowing Joaquín into her bed at three in the morning was a bad idea.

For one thing, she really should have used the time to study for the test that would make up a solid third of her grade in a class that took many people two tries to pass. There was also the inevitable exhaustion that would probably affect her performance on that test.

Then there was the fact that if they woke up her roommate, she would have to deal with side eyed glances, reproving sighs, and little comments for at least a week. Not to mention the fact that her roommate would probably tell the rest of their friends, and then she'd be getting it from all angles.

But the biggest reason this was a bad idea, the reason with the most inevitable consequences, was the fact that he'd leave behind an ache that chased her throughout her morning, reminding her of how stupid she was for doing this.

But as she gripped onto Joaquín's head like her life depended on it, hips chasing a release on his tongue, it was difficult to really think about any of that. It was difficult to think at all. All she could manage were small bits of breathy praise spurring him on.

"Fuck. Fuck yes, right–ah!" She threw her head back into the bed as he sucked harder around her clit. One hand freed itself from his curls, clawing at the sheets to give herself more purchase as words left her in favor of high pitched, gasping noises that sounded vaguely like his name. And then, finally, she could hardly get out any sound as a wave of pleasure coursed through her causing her whole body to go taut as Joaquín replaced his tongue with his fingers to help her ride out the high.

"I've got you. I got you," he reassured, coming back up her body to place kisses along her jaw as she slowly came down, chest heaving. Y/N pulled in deep breath as his lips continued to rove around her chest and collarbone, neck and face, always whispering bits of praise before gracing her skin with a kiss. One hand slid across her bare stomach, taking hold of her waist as he gave one last kiss before looking up into her face.

"And?" he asked with a small smirk.

"And?" she repeated in question, the word coming out more as an exhale.

"How am I doing so far? Thorough enough?" he asked, his hand inching up under her top to take hold of a breast. The pad of his thumb ran over the nipple there, and for a moment, Y/N's mind went hazy. "Or is there something I'm forgetting to pay attention to?"

"I think you already know." Despite the words themselves, her voice came out needy and airy, and it elicited a low chuckle from Joaquín whose hand retreated back to the edge of her top, teasing her with the promise of taking it off.

"I want you to tell me."

"Stop teasing me, and put that mouth to better use," Y/N snapped, and he grinned this time.

"Close enough," he said, pulling her top up and over her head, flinging it away from them.

His mouth was truly a gift from God, but his hands, and the way they massaged her breast, twisted her nipple, worked her in ways that were positively sinful, they could only have been given that skill through a deal with the devil. So, she lay there, fingernails scratching at his shoulder blades as he worshiped her chest, switching between the breasts and from mouth to hands in ways that made her feel holy. Holy but aching.

"Joaquín," she mumbled, hand sliding from his shoulder to his bicep, pressing her away from him. He lifted himself from her skin, eyes meeting hers. "Flip over," she commanded. His face lit up, and he complied so quickly and eagerly that Y/N laughed.

Joaquín tucked his hands under his head, watching intently as Y/N moved to straddle him. "We can't be too loud," she whispered, placing a finger against his lips. "Ok?"

"Got it," he said, biting her finger playfully. She withdrew her finger from between his lips, running her hands down his muscled chest. It was almost criminal, the fact that he always wore loose fitting t-shirts instead of something that showed off the hard work ROTC had him put into his body.

She leaned down, allowing her tongue to explore the planes of his chest, dipping low to swirl around his belly button and lower to the center of his v line. Joaquín groaned, and Y/N hooked her fingers in the waistline of his boxers, dragging both the underwear and sweatpants down his legs and off his body. When she looked up at him, she found Joaquín's gaze fixated on her. There was a quiet desperation to his look, not as needy as she was sure her own faces were, but almost like he was a second away from an answer, and she was the only one who could help him get it.

Y/N crawled back up his body, taking his cock in her hand and teasing it with long, slow strokes. Under her, Joaquín's eyes had closed, a grunt passing through his lips as he managed to lift a hand to take hold of her hip. Her thumb passed over the head, spreading the precum along his hardened length, her hand twisting around him before she dipped down and kissed the head of his cock. His hips jerked up from the bed, as if chasing her as she pulled away. Joaquín opened his eyes, casting her a look of confused desperation.

"I'm not the one who made promises," she said with a tilt of her head and a smirk. He let out a gasping laugh, pinching her hip, and she rolled over him leaving the boy groaning underneath her.

"Hold on," she said, pressing a hand to his chest and leaning up over him to reach into her side table. She fumbled around, fingers slipping over the contents of her drawer until at last the smooth feeling of the condom packet greeted her fingertips. She snatched it up, not even bothering to shove the drawer closed as she withdrew to her position over Joaquín's hips, tearing open the package with her teeth.

She probably could have been more sensual about it–moved a bit slower with teasing touches and seductive glances–but instead she tossed the empty wrapper and immediately went about rolling the condom over Joaquín's waiting cock. Because while she probably could have withstood a little bit more anticipation, a little bit more build up until this moment why should she have to when she could have him now?

Y/N raised herself a little higher, Joaquín's hands coming to her hips and slowly guiding her down onto his waiting cock. He hissed as she lowered herself even further until he filled her completely. Y/N paused, hands flat against Joaquín's chest to allow herself a moment to adjust to his size. "You good?" Joaquín asked, gently squeezing her side, and she nodded.

"Yeah," Y/N breathed. "Yeah, I'm ready."

There was a reason she always seemed to cave whenever Joaquín texted her. A reason she never told him to go fuck himself or any of the other things her roommate and friends suggested she say. A reason she snuck him in and out of her bedroom late at night or times when most people were at class.

And it wasn't because she was stupid enough to have feelings for him again.

It was because he knew exactly what to do to make her body feel electric. It didn't matter if he was letting her ride him slow, fucking her fast from behind, or clutching her close to him as he stroked hard and deep–he knew exactly what her body craved and he gave it to her. He gave it to her with murmured bits of Spanish and breathless cursing and moans that made her chest constrict. He gave it to her with fingers that circled her clit and twisted her nipples and pulled her hair at all the right times. He gave it to her with hot, hard, and fierce kisses.

And as much as he gave, it was never enough.

Even after her second orgasm left her feeling close to overstimulated and boneless, she still clutched at him. While she hardly had enough energy to raise her hips to meet his thrust, she locked her legs around him and pulled him closer as he buried his face in her shoulder. She stayed with him as his hips stuttered and strokes got sloppy and it became clear that he was going to come.

Admittedly, Joaquín's orgasm face was rather dumb, ridiculous even, with his mouth hanging open and only a grunting sound coming out. But she kept her eyes trained on his face, not to remind her that this god in bed was a mere mortal who made stupid faces too, but because after he finished, when his face relaxed, he was nothing short of angelic. The corners of his mouth turned up just barely into a light smile and his eyes fluttered open and looked at her like she really was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Joaquín placed a kiss on her shoulder as he helped to lower her legs back down to the bed, finally withdrawing from her to dispose of the condom in the trash by her bedside. It was all Y/N could do to catch her breath, her body hot and sweaty from the activity. Yet as Joaquín climbed back into the bed, she allowed him to pull her in close to him, arms wrapping around her, and chin resting on her shoulder. Because this was part of the deal with Joaquín and something that had almost made her doubt her initial assessment of him back when his body was brand new and she was still discovering all of the things it could do—after sex, he always stayed. Not necessarily the night, but long enough to hold and cuddle her and talk about things that didn't matter.

"Better than studying?" he asked, and she let out a snort and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Good enough for Starbucks?" he asked, tilting his head to try to look at her face, and this time she gave a full laugh.

"I'll meet you there at seven."

#joaquín torres smut #joaquín torres #joaquín torres oc #joaquín torres x reader #joaquín torres x oc #fuckboy!joaquín torres #fuckboi!torres #fuckboy!torres #joaquín torres fic #marvel fic #marvel smut #tfatws fic #fatws #fatws fic #tfatws #college!au #college au #marvel college!au

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years

Note

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

*************

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

************

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

**************

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

************

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,” he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

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mimicofmodes · 4 years

Text

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.”

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves

Pelerines

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

#history #women's history #writing #embroidery #19th century #18th century #17th century #victorian #georgian #regency

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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years

Text

Aim For The Heart - Prologue

a/n: pls love this as much as I do ;-;

pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

prologue word count: 1,001

future warnings: language, perverted men, past rape attempts, attempted murder, uh actual murder, non-main character death, blood, guns, knives, anxiety attacks, depression, injuries, this isn't all in one chapter!!

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

The loud clanging of a metal door can be heard echoing down a wide hallway as it's opened slowly; the door far too heavy to open any faster.

The face of a short and skinny old man appears from the inside, his face set into a permanent scowl. The young man standing outside of the building gives him a half-smile as he nods.

The older man only peeks his head out further as he scrutinizes the younger man's face, the top half of it is covered by a black baseball cap; leaving only his nose, lips, and chin in view.

"What do you want?" The rough voice of the old man reaches the other's ears and he finally raises his head enough for the man inside to see a little more of his face.

"I have an appointment." He says simply.

"Is that so?" The old grump raises his bushy eyebrows doubtfully, "With who?"

"I would ask you that myself. I was told my client would like to remain anonymous." The mysterious young man clarifies.

"I'm afraid I'll need more than that to let you in. What's your name, kid?"

"Lotus."

The old man squints at him for a second before opening the door wider, "Come on in." He says gruffly, seemingly recognizing the name.

The man sends him another half-smile as he climbs the steps and walks inside.

"My name is Park Dongwu." The old man gives him what seems to be an attempt at a smile, but it looks more like a grimace.

The young man called Lotus nods, "You can call me L."

"Alright, follow me this way...L." Mr. Park gives him a side glance as he turns to lead him down a long hallway. Lotus follows along behind him quietly. When they reach the end of the hall, there's a right turn and a left. The old man turns to the left and keeps walking until there's another dead end. Then he knocks on the door to the right of them, three rapid taps.

It opens a second later and they both see an extremely tall and muscular man dressed all in black, a neatly trimmed black beard covering half his face, his eyes dark and piercing. When his gaze shifts to the young man beside the elder, he grunts.

"You must be Lotus. Come on in." Then he turns back to the older man, "Thank you, Mr. Park. You may go now."

The second Lotus steps into the room, the huge man shuts the door. Then he gestures for him to come forward towards the desk in the middle of the small room. Lotus saunters over and glances down at a file sitting closed on the wooden desk.

"Have a seat." The man invites as he himself takes a seat behind the desk.

The young man bows and sits down, his eyes still drawn to the unopened file. A low chuckle reaches his ears and he looks up to see the man staring him down.

"You that excited, kid?"

"You must be Mr. Ling, my client's form of communication with me?" L changes the subject, not bothering to acknowledge the other's inquiry.

"Indeed I am." Mr. Ling sits back in his chair, an amused smile creeping onto his face. "You know kid, you look awfully young to be doing this type of work."

"I think if your boss were worried about that, I wouldn't be here right now, would I?" The younger counters.

Mr. Ling's eyes narrow but the smirk on his face remains.

"You've got a quick tongue, kid-"

“My name isn’t ‘kid’."

"-and an attitude apparently." Mr. Ling goes on, unbothered. "I won't keep you much longer. You know the terms, you know the consequences should you terminate the deal or fail to accomplish it. Or in the case that you should reveal any of the limited information, you know about your client to anyone, under any circumstances."

A nod from L and he continues, "You've already received some payment in advance. Once the job is complete you will receive the rest of your payment. You still agree to all of this?" The younger man scrutinizes Mr. Ling's face; something feels off about this. It seems too simple, too carefree, and easy-going. Nothing like the jobs he's had before. This guy doesn't seem like he works for someone that would hire someone to do this type of work.

But Lotus nods again anyway, his eyes darting back to the file.

A sigh falls from Mr. Ling's lips and he finally flips the file open and turns it so the young man can read it.

"You'll find all the information you need in there. The target's address and job are all confirmed to be up to date. Try not to draw attention to yourself, kid."

That causes Lotus to lift an eyebrow in annoyance.

What does this asshole think? That this is my first job?

"Yeah, thanks for the tip." The sarcasm dripping off the young man's tongue makes Mr. Ling shake his head, but there's still a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. He watches closely as he sees the kid lean closer and scan the paper, his eyes darting over the name and skimming the rest of the paper before flipping it to see a picture of the said target on the second page.

"Think you can handle it?" The way he watches Lotus closely doesn't go unnoticed. But the young man doesn't flinch, instead, he looks back at Mr. Ling, his face emotionless. The older man studies him carefully. There's something about this kid that seems off; he almost looks too innocent for something like this. Mr. Ling shifts, intrigued at the sight.

"Don't worry, I'll get it done. It'll be a piece of cake." Lotus finally speaks up.

He looks down at the name once more before flipping the file closed and standing up.

He's got it memorized already.

Y/L/N, Y/N...

He bows to Mr. Ling and turns to leave.

This should be his quickest job yet.

a/n: I really hope you guys will like this new fic, pls give it a chance! Ilyyyy

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bonbonbunny · 3 years

Note

Do u have any good lady's isekai falls-in-love-with-a-prince-from-a-novel type webcomic recommendation? I read 2 and now im hooked

Do I EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Most of these I find on Webtoon. If you join webtoon and read regularly, you'll see them suggesting more things you might like, and new stuff on the main page, and you'll discover more and more of them, too. 💖

Happily Ever Afterwards - The heroine is reborn AFTER the epilogue of her fave novel, after her favorite character has been exiled from the kingdom due to the story’s events (he’s a tragic, sympathetic character). She sets about traveling to the cold, difficult kingdom of his exile to try to convince him to marry her, so that she can give him the happiness he deserves to have after all of the sad events from the book! This comic is SOOOOO sweet, cute, and fluffy-fluff! ☁️

The First Night With the Duke - Starts out with a lot of comedy, but has gotten much more serious as the chapters have progressed, with some intense scenes that I haven’t been crazy about. The heroine completely derails the plot of the novel by being born as a random, unnamed side-character who accidentally seduces the male lead, and no romance between him and the actual female lead ever even has the chance to happen. 😅

The Matchmaking Baby Princess - The heroine is born as a tiny baby princess, who uses her super cute charm to influence the characters around her so that things turn out better for them than the way the novel goes. This one is still fairly new, so the episodes haven’t shown a whole lot about how she derails the story yet, but, it is REALLLY CUUUUUTE!! And has very beautiful scenes of palatial gardens and such. Also obviously the heroine herself is not the one that the romance happens to lol.

His Majesty's Proposal - This one is a bit similar to The First Night With the Duke, with a rando side character getting proposed to by the prince after spending a night with him. A fun twist with this one is that the heroine is reincarnated from a crotchety old woman in her previous life, so she uses all kinds of old person slang (like calling people “whippersnappers” and stuff like that lol) and is kind of rude and grumpy lol.

Every Rose Has a Death Flag - Pretty typical isekai where the heroine is reincarnated as the villainess and knows that all of her ends are bad ends, so she tries to remove herself from the attentions of the prince and the other main characters, but through the process ends up endearing herself to them instead. Good stuff without any weird quirks or gimmicks. 👌

Tricked into Becoming the Heroine's Stepmother - The protagonist is actually one of the AUTHORS of this novel, so she is familiar with exactly what will be happening to all of the characters! She is reincarnated as a rando townsperson though, and doesn’t have much influence, until she appeals to the prince and just spills the fact that she’s the author and knows everything that’s going to happen to the princess (his daughter) in the future lol?! And he believes her?? And employs her to his household in order to prevent any of the princess’ suffering??? Also did I mention that the princess is the most adorable little toddler ever, with fluffy hair like a chestnut? 😭😭

The Male Lead's Girl Friend - Again, the heroine is reborn as the villainess of the story, and attempts to distance herself from the male lead as much as she can (endearing herself to him in the process). Some of the interesting quirks here are that she ships the male and female lead SUPER HARD, and is trying everything she can to hook them up together, but they both only seem to fall for her harder with every attempt. 😄 There is also a cool school/academy setting to this one to set it apart from the others with similar plots, as well as BIG YURI VIBES between the protagonist and the female lead.

How to Survive a Romance Fantasy - This is the most comedy-intensive of everything on this list. In fact, it just kept getting sillier as its chapters went on, and I actually dropped it from my reading list because it wasn’t making me laugh as hard anymore as it was in the beginning.. 😅 In this one, three normal-world folks are reborn in the fantasy world, as the heroine, the prince, and the villainess, and ALL THREE of them hate it and want nothing to do with the plot, so they run away as far from the plot as they can, and are also keeping their identities as the main characters secret from one another. It is very, very silly.

Non-Webtoon Webcomics

These have not been officially picked up & translated. To read them in English, you will have to find them online where they are posted by fan translators.

The Villainess is a Marionette - This is for real probably my very favorite comic on this whole list, and can you believe how beautiful the art style is??? The tone of this one is totally different from any of the others here. The protagonist is reborn as a malicious villainess with particularly cruel endings in her future, and she sets about to avoid them by using her power, influence, and wiles to manipulate the royal intrigue happening around her. She’s... RELATIVELY kinder than the original villainess was in the story, and several characters that were her enemies in the original story are endeared to her now, but she’s still got her claws sunk into the royal family’s shady dealings. This is a “bad boss b*tch” kind of heroine lol, and it’s super satisfying to see her come out ahead of the other villains with her crazy 4D chess manipulations.

Sincerely: I Became a Duke's Maid - A super snuggly, sweet, and fluffy story where the protagonist is reborn as a maid during the tragic antihero’s childhood. He is afflicted with a painful curse, and the protagonist, knowing that only more pain is ahead for him, does her best to befriend him and make his youth a little bit lighter.

Who Made Me A Princess - Yet again, a tragic end awaits this princess that the protagonist is reborn as in her childhood, so she uses her cute charm to change the king’s attitude toward her (he was neglectful in the original story). Some interesting original-plot-derails happen in this one, where her innate magic power is much stronger than it’s supposed to be, and she needs the help of a magical pet creature and a very handsome wizard to sustain her life in this world.

Seduce the Villain's Father - This one wins the award for having the most hilarious title in this list. 😆 It’s much cuter and lighter than it sounds!! This protagonist derails the original plot by allowing herself to be kidnapped by the villain’s kingdom instead of the intended character (her sister). She is reborn among characters the generation before the events of the novel, so the villain himself isn’t here yet - but his handsome dad is! And if she can convince him not to marry the woman that would become the villain’s mother, then the storyline is saved! Probably!

Special mention:

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Roads Lead to Doom! - This anime is probably the main “reincarnated as the villainess” isekai that introduced most of us to this concept. 😅 I’ve linked to where you can watch the anime for free on Crunchyroll, but there is also a manga if you’d prefer to read it! While there are many, many comics that use this plot hook, this is the only one that made it to anime form, so it’s like, required watching!

To close this long list up, all of these recs are JUST ISEKAI!!!! If I were recommending my favorite webcomics in general, there could also be Cursed Princess Club, The Remarried Empress, The Princess’ Jewels, and Men of the Harem in this list...

There are so, so many comics with beautiful art styles featuring gorgeous princesses, it’s crazy!! 😭😭 I could for real spend my whole life reading them probably?? 👌👌 Those millions of women that read romance novels about dukes falling in love with noble women are suddenly extremely relatable.

#asks #isekai #webcomics #webcomic #long post

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backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW| Chapter One

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: After your mission starts going tits up and you find yourself being held at gun point, your groups big secret is about to come to light.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Guns, Violence, Hostage Situation, Shooting, Murder, Sexual References, Some Angst. (This Chapter is purely set up but there will be plenty of Smut in future instalments, not to mention drama galore, especially where Frankie is involved.)

Word Count - 3429

A/N- Hi all, I hope you enjoy my little self indulgent piece I’ve been working on. This is a female reader insert so I do use she/her pronouns, I hope this doesn’t bother anyone or make them feel uncomfortable, I just always vision myself as my insert character and I just end up writing with my own pronouns. Although I have re-read this a couple times, I did write this and proof read in the early hours of the morning so there may still be mistakes, if you find any I’m sorry. Also I cannot wait for you all to see where I’m taking this and the drama that is gonna go down. Will Benny find out everything in the end? Let’s find out.

CHAPTER ONE | WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW

Your feet danced silently across the sun spot covered floor boards as you made your way down the upstairs hallway of the house. You stayed close to the walls, your gun held tightly to your vest, finger always close to the trigger. You sensed a figure move across the hall behind you. You looked back over your shoulder as the brim of a cap stuck out from the corner of a door frame. You and Frankie locked eyes and he gave you a silent nod to let you know he had your back. You took your next tentative step forward towards the last room at the end of the hall. Creeeek.

You froze, your foot half in the air as you waited to see if your target had noticed. You heard a slight click from behind you as Frankie adjusted his gun ready just in case. You slowly moved your foot, placing it down on the floorboard next to the one that just creaked, so you had a better stance. The room at the end of the hall remained silent. You looked back to Frankie and he gave you a reassuring nod once again.

“We're all clear down here and we found the money.” Pope's voice came through the coms. “Fish? Magpie? How's it going up there.” There was a noise on the stairs causing both yourself and Frankie's head's to whip around to see Will. Frankie held up a fist to him. Will gave a silent nod as he readjusted his hand on his gun.

Frankie's response was hushed. “Give us a sec.”

You took your last few steps down the hall to position yourself across from the slightly open door. Frankie swiftly moved down the hall, stopping with his back against the wall, the barrel of his gun, ghosting the door frame. He signalled his hand indicating for you to take focus on the left side of the room, he'd take the right. You gave a nod to show you understood taking a quick look down the hall to check Will had your six. When you looked back to Frankie he was taking a slow calming breath, focusing himself. He gave one final nod and you both stormed through the door.

Just like every other room you'd checked, it was clear. You both relaxed, calling it out as Will came into the doorway. “There's nothing up here Pope.” you said into your com.

“What do you mean there's nothing up there?” Santiago Garcia's voice was frustrated as it came through the com.

“What you don't trust me? There's nothing fucking up here.” You said again as Frankie and Will did a double check of the other rooms.

“I'm coming up there.” You rolled your eyes. You and Santi had both gone into similar lines of work post service and you couldn't be mad at him for not trusting your judgement, you would probably do the same had the roles been reversed.

“Jesus Fucking Chr-” you started to mutter to yourself but a sound behind you caught you off guard. Shit.

“Put down your gun.” came a voice behind you. Of course this house had a secret fucking room you missed. You made a loud example of dropping your gun on the floor, alerting your team mates to the threat in the room with you.

Frankie stormed back into the room first, gun aimed at the ready. You sneered as the barrel of a gun was jammed into your back and your wrist was grabbed, your arm being forced behind you. “Fish what's going-” Will's voice fell as he too came back into the room, Frankie holding a hand up to him in caution.

“How many of you are there?” the man behind you spoke, his accent thick.

“We've got two more guys downstairs.” Frankie's voice came back calm.

“Iron head what's going on?” Pope's voice came booming down the hallway. Will held a hand up to him.

“All of you in here where I can see you.” The man said. You grunted as he twisted your arm again, leading you backwards so he was in a better vantage spot in the room. Frankie never lowered his gun as he stepped around the room to maintain his shot at the man behind you.

Will and Santiago slowly stepped into the room, both their weapons aimed ready. Santiago, not wanting to risk reaching for his com instead yelled out. “HEY BENNY, COME UP HERE!”

Everyone was silent as the sound of heavy footsteps made their way upstairs and down the hall. “What's everyone doing up here-” his question was cut off as he quickly surveyed the situation in the room. He quickly berated himself for leaving his gun downstairs but calmly checked himself, spotting your gun on the floor and forming a plan in his head about how he'd acquire it.

“All of you put your weapons down.” The man's heavy accent cut through the silence. When none of the men before him moved he raised the gun in his hand to rest against the side of your head. “I said, put your weapons down or I'll shoot her.” None of the men moved.

“Boy's it's alright, you can put your guns down. He's not gonna shoot me.” You said, your voice too light hearted for this situation.

“Yes I will.” the man bit back pushing the gun harder against your head.

You calmly turned your head to look at him. “No you won't, and you know how I know that?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Because you need me to get out of here. You know the moment you do any actual harm to me, these men won't hesitate making your body drop, right where you stand. You're goal here, is to get yourself out alive, so you need me alive. So in conclusion, no, you're not going to shoot me.” You roll your eyes turning your attention back to your boys. “Boy's it's fine. I'm fine, just drop your weapons.”

Benny gave a quick glance to his right, at his brothers. Both Santiago and Will reluctantly followed your instruction, making a show of calmly lowering their weapons and placing them on the floor. The only one of them who didn't move was Frankie. You locked eyes with him. You saw all his emotions and care for you in his eyes, his determination to keep you safe as he fought with every fibre of his being to not lower his weapon, to just shoot this guy right where he stood. You're eye's pleaded with him softly. “Fish, it's okay.” It took a moment, but he too followed suit, slowly lowering his weapon.

“What's gonna happen is we are going to slowly head for the door.” The man pointing the gun at you said calmly. “You're friends are gonna stay right where they are.”

“Okay.” you said back calmly. This wasn't your first hostage negotiation but then again, you'd never been the hostage before.

“Okay.” he reiterated as he pulled your arm and slowly edged you towards the door. You watched the boys closely. You could see in Santi's eyes he was desperate to say something. You kept your glance on him a moment longer and his mouth began to open, your voice came out first.

“Do you remember that time in Italy?” you addressed him calmly as your feet still moved backwards towards the door.

“Yeah...” Santiago said tentatively, the man behind you jostling your arm as he began to step into the doorway.

You felt the man lower the gun from your head to your back, pushing it against your left side, a caution to be quiet which you ignored. “With that guy at that club.” You continued, your eyes locked with Santiago trying to get him to understand. “And you tried to impress me when you shot him, but I just got mad...” You too were now stood in the doorway. You stopped. “well.” None of the men had ever seen you move that fast. You reached your arm to the gun poking at your side, taking it from the man's hand. Before he'd even realised you'd taken it your whole body swivelled around as you twisted the gun around in your hands, raising it and shooting him point blank in his forehead. His body hit the ground with a thud. Your eyes didn't leave the man as you fully took a moment to take him in as you lowered the weapon in your hands.

There was a giddy squeal and the sound of Benny bouncing around excitedly behind you. You turned around stepping forward to hand the gun off to Santiago, finishing the statement you were making before. “Consider us even.” you said, raising your eyebrows to him.

“Oh my god! Did you see that?” Benny continued to bounce around the room. Will and Frankie only just taking a sigh of relief as you moved back towards the body now lying in the doorway. Benny finally came to a stop. “Is anyone else slightly turned on right now?” his filter not stopping the question, quickly permeating the room with it. There was silence from the other three men as you bent down to rummage through the dead sicario’s pockets. The radio silence to Benny's question was deafening to you. You slowly sheepishly turned your head towards the other three men who were still yet to say anything. You're head turn hadn't been slow enough though and you caught the look that Santiago, Frankie and Will quickly shared, before looking at any opposing point of the room they could.

“Well I guess I know what you boys don't talk about when you're out with Benny.” your statement cut through the thick silence. You took a quick look at Benny just long enough to see his face fall. You stifled a small snigger as you turned back to the body in front of you.

“What?” Benny's voice rang out. “What is it you don't talk about when you're with me? What did I miss?” the youngest man searched his brother's faces for answers. They continued to remain silent.

You pulled yourself away from the body, blowing straight past Benny to Santiago. “Does Will know about Italy?” Santiago remains silent but a quick look over to Will and how he's looking at you tells you everything you need to know. “So he does know about Italy.” you say coyly, your gaze turning back to Santiago.

Benny is beginning to get antsy, moving about the room. “What happened in Italy?” Nobody answers Benny and you continue your playful interrogation.

“How much does he know?”

“All of it.” Santiago responds. You look to Fish then back at Santi.

“Even...?” You can see Will's eyes fixed uncomfortably to a spot on the floor out of the corner of your own. Frankie beside him started to relax, his own legs becoming fidgety as he began to rock on the balls of his feet, the conversation making him uncomfortable.

“All of it.” Santiago says again. You suddenly notice Frankie become tense once more. It takes a moment for your brain to process why, but then it's fitting it together. The creaky floorboard in the hallway. You reached out for the gun in Santiago's hand quickly whipping around just in time. BANG. Another body hits the floor in the doorway.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Benny practically squeals again. You turn your head back to Santiago, he has that look in his eyes. The same look he gave you that night in Italy. A warmth suddenly hits between your legs and you have to take a deep breath and centre yourself.

“I thought you said downstairs was all clear.” You say handing the gun over to him again.

“It was.” Santiago's voice was low as he tried to retake control of this situation, but the two of you both knew it was long gone. It had been gone the moment you mentioned Italy.

You took a step back, Benny still hopping about giddily. “Seriously did nobody tell him.” Your eyes roamed over to Frankie's. They locked for a fraction of a second before he purposely turned his gaze away from you. He still slightly resented you for the whole Italy incident. Your eyes finally fell on Will who was now silently looking at you, well aware you were the one fully in command from here on out. 'Wow' you silently mouthed.

“What the fuck am I missing out on?” Benny butted in again, his voice whining like a child.

“We'll tell you when your older.” his older brother finally said, not taking his eyes off you for a second.

---------

Your fingers were swollen red and sore as you carried yet another heavy bag of cash to the van. You quickly dropped it onto the large pile Frankie was loading into the back of the van parked outside the front of the house with a thud. You took a moment to regain your strength ready to go back for the last few bags, watching as the veins in Frankie's muscles strained as he lifted multiple bags at a time, swinging them into the van. You watched as he stopped a moment, realising you were still stood there, a hesitant look on his face, like he wanted to say something but didn't know if now was the right time to say it. You watched as the emotion inside him quickly built from whatever inner conflict he was having. He practically threw the next bag into the van.

You took a tentative step towards the pile of bags, picking one up and lifting it into the back of the van. “Don't do that again.” you heard the man beside you growl.

“Do what? All I did was put a bag in the van-” “Don't gamble with your life like that.” Frankie snapped at you.

“He wasn't going to shoot me.” you tried to keep your voice calm as you reached for another bag, but the slight irritation in how Frankie was treating you was clearly niggling at you.

“You didn't know that.” He said stopping everything he was doing to stare at you.

“Yes I did.” you snapped as you threw the bag in your hand, into the back of the van. You felt him grab your arm, pulling you round to face him. His hand remaining firmly around your wrist. You felt like your skin was burning under his touch.

“No. You took a gamble and began running your fucking mouth off, you were practically taunting him the whole fucking time-”

“He had the safety on.” You spat back at him, cutting off his rant. He looked at you half in shock, half in curiosity.

“What?”

“He had the safety on the whole time.” you said your voice softening trying to make him understand, but the look on his face was slow to change, almost like he still didn't believe you. You snatched your hand out of his grasp. “But thanks for caring.” You laced the statement with a slight venom, almost challenging him. He looked at you longingly then. So much of your relationship with one another going unsaid and sitting heavy between the two of you.

“You know I always fucking cared-” “No.” your voice was commanding.

“What?” he said slightly hurt and confused.

“Frankie, we're not doing this now.”

“Doing what?” Santiago's voice cut between the two of you as he made his way out of the house, a couple of the money bags in his hands.

“Nothing man, nothing.” Frankie said as he took a step back from you. He lifted his hat from his head, using the back of his hand to smooth the hair beneath it, attempting to look anywhere but at you as you went back to loading the bags into the van.

“Benny's just packing up the last two bags.” Will said as he came out to the van. He didn't add the bags in his hands to the pile, instead putting them straight into the back of the vehicle, pushing you out the way so he could get through.

You took a step back to survey the three men before you, as Will and Frankie began working together to haul the last of the bags into the van. “So you guys really telling me Benny knows nothing at all, and I'm not just talking about Italy.” The three men turned to look at you. This was the first time ever you'd been alone with the three of them together since all this started and you were dying for some answers.

“It never came up.” Santi sheepishly answered, shrugging it off.

“But the three of you have talked about this shit?” you questioned, quickly becoming bolder.

“Why, you been feeling your ears getting a little bit hot chica?” Santiago began teasing you.

“No.” you fired back a little too quickly shooting him a death look at the same time. You were surprised though when, instead of Santi coming back with another quip to continue teasing you, it was Will's voice that filled the silence.

“You know I'm beginning to think she get's off on the idea of us talking about her and debating over who did her better.” He said with a low chuckle. You shoot daggers at Will for the low blow but it only makes him smile.

“Well William, if you truly do know everything, then you know it's no competition and you already know who I think the best was.” you are quick to rebuttal, your voice taunting.

“The best at what?” Benny's voice questioned as he brought the last bags out to the van, throwing them in the back.

“Fucking me.” you say shooting him a wink and a cheeky grin. Your voice is so nonchalant when you say it, he knows you're saying it to taunt him. It sounds like such an exaggeration, like the farthest thing from the truth, a lie just to wind him up. He scoffs irritated as you raise your eyebrows at him and make your way towards the front of the van, away from his view. But what he doesn't know, that his brothers do, was that it was completely true. You had just taunted him with the truth and gotten away with it and damn were they impressed.

Santi practically chokes as he tries to hide his laughter, sputtering and coughing from how blatant you were. Will gave a small snicker before looking to his brother with sympathy, patting him on the shoulder. Frankie closed the doors to the back of the van, practically skipping around the side of the vehicle after you. You look back to him and he shoots you a look as if you say 'you're playing with fire' as he reaches out to open the door for you.

You give him a sickly sweet smile in return. He rolls his eyes at you as he leans against the door, waiting for you to hop into the van first and slide past the steering wheel, into the middle. You climb onto the seat but pause, looking directly at Frankie. He truly turns his head to look at you now, the serious look on your face when you address him. “You know it was always you right?” you asked him.

With everything that had happened between you, he genuinely hadn't known, but he could tell by your face you weren't talking just about the sex anymore. He wanted to push you further but the passenger door opened on the other side of the van as Santiago climbed in. When Frankie looked back to you, you had already turned away.

He took the drivers seat beside you, slamming the door shut a little bit too hard. He fumbled with the keys in the ignition. 'Why had you had to drop this on him now?' he thought to himself.

“Fish you okay man?” Santiago's voice rang out in the silence. Frankie's head snapped towards his best friend but his eyes somehow ended up landing on you. He took a moment to steady himself, his fingers going into autopilot as they once more placed the keys into the ignition, turning it over. The van roared to life.

The three of you watched as the Miller brothers took off in a separate car in front of you. “Alright man let's go.” Santi said slapping the dashboard and Frankie put his foot down on the accelerator, following the car in front back into the cover of the trees around them.

Let me know if you want to be added onto the tag list for this fic. I also won’t be adding names just from likes again like I did with the announcement post so if you want to be notified you have to put it in writing for me.

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @itspdameronthings

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #reader insert #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller #what benny doesn’t know #fanfiction

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Oils

Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call.

Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men.

Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation

It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.

Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.

"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."

You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.

"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."

The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"

You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."

"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."

"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.

"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.

"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."

The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."

"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."

You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.

Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.

It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.

"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.

"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."

"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."

You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."

Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"

"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."

"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."

"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"

Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."

Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.

"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."

The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.

“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?”

“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.”

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.”

“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.”

“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?”

You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative.

“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say.

Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”

She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled.

Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.”

“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.”

You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?”

“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.”

She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself.

“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.”

“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!”

You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.”

Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it.

“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.”

An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources.

Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter.

“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!”

The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder.

“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.”

“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."

"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"

You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.

"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."

"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."

"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."

You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.

"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."

Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.

"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."

"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.

You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen.

“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.”

Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #cult girl #doterra #anti mlm

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Abridged: 1981 - the Body-Swap

The X-Men, those body-swapping mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(Uncanny X-Men 151 - 152) - by Chris Claremont and Josef Rubinstein

Emma Frost and her frenemy Ororo Munroe have not been getting along! One fateful evening, as the two quibble away, they mysteriously switch bodies and minds. Talk about your Freaky Friday! What lessons will they learn, walking a mile in one another’s shoes? And will they be able to switch back, or will they stay in each other’s bodies forever? Mutant Monday, coming soon to a cinema near you. Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Angela Bassett and Elliot Page. (PG-13)

For a moment, we’re in a proper period drama: a letter delivers ill tidings!

I love that Kitty’s parents are so self-involved that it took them A WHOLE YEAR to realize that it’s weird that Kitty is the only non-adult attending the Xavier Institute.

I can only assume the mailman interrupted a pool party of some kind? Or a communal shower? I get why Kurt would not swim a lot - all that fur - but did Scott wear that while they were splashing around? Was it a beach volleyball competition where one half got to wear swimsuits and the other half superhero costumes? Most importantly, was Scott’s costume always this tight?

Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

The awful thing is that Kitty’s parents are transferring her to the Massachusetts Academy, not realizing that headmistress Emma Frost is, in fact, a terrible human being. Charles, uncharacteristically, says that changing their minds telepathically is a line he does not cross (any more) and half the viewing audience bursts out in laughter. More importantly, last they saw Emma, she was kind of dead-by-Phoenix, so it might be better there this time? Kitty does a Classic Teenage Stomp-Off and Storm comes to comfort her. Kitty cries that life is unfair (“My parents are only doing this because they’re splitting up”) and Ororo tells her that yes, life is unfair. You just gotta roll with the punches as best you can.

To be fair, bald men are technically all cheek, so it doesn’t matter where you kiss them.

While I enjoy the relationship Kitty has with the other X-Men (Scott gave her a compliment! Logan told her his name!), especially the mother-daughter-bond she shares with Ororo, the whole Piotr-thing always gives me pause. Even if we’re being very generous with age, Kitty is, what? 14 going on 15? And Piotr is… 19? At best? I get why Kitty would have a crush on him: he’s a gentle hunky giant: at fifteen, my teenage ass would have felt the exact same viz-a-viz Colossus’ upper arms. The fact that Piotr reciprocates feels skeevy, though, especially because they’re always treated like star-crossed idiots these days.

Skee-vy.

Ororo drives Kitty to Massachusetts, where her young ward is greeted by someone named Muffy and whisked away for orientation. All seems well. Ororo stands in a parlour, surveying the grounds and considering that they should have fought harder for Kitty. Still, nothing seems too wrong just yet: this Academy just seems very preppy.

Not-at-all-dead Emma takes her cue and jumps out, saying (essentially): “Surprise motherfucker.”

There’s a flash of light, and then...

I’m willing to bet that Emma’s EVIL journal has the following to-do-list: - Steal Storm’s body. - Experiment with her powers. - See how good Storm looks in white. (Leather? Fur?! Both!??) - REWARD: Smoke break.

I wonder if Emma’s plan hinged on being able to body-swap with Storm, or whether any X-Man would have sufficed. Was her original target Xavier? Cyclops? What if one of Kitty’s parents had brought her to Massachusetts, would she have taken Kitty instead?

In a locked cell, Storm wakes up in Emma’s body and is horrified. I wonder why Emma didn’t take any more precautions. Couldn’t the guy who made the freaky friday-gizmo also make a power dampener to nullify not!Emma’s telepathic abilities? Or did Emma count on her victim being so utterly incapacitated by her mind-powers that they’d be driven mad? (This would actually tie in with some of Emma’s later-revealed history: when her powers first emerged, she also got locked away in a padded room because of her madness.)

Emma is not wrong, by the way: Storm can’t get a handle on Emma’s powers. What follows is possibly the sweetest moment in an arc filled with sweet moments:

This arc isn’t drawn by any of the regulars - not Byrne, not Cockrum - but Josef Rubinstein brings his own kind of panache to the pages. I love the way he draws women’s faces: in a story that’s all about women, their faces are actually distinguishable. Kudoz.

Emma, meanwhile, coordinates with Sebastian Shaw to execute the second part of their two-pronged attack on the X-Men. They both laugh evilly in their phones while the mansion is attacked by Sentinels! These androids take out Cyclops and Xavier with some sleeping gas and knock out Nightcrawler, but the rest of the X-Men manage to trounce these robots. Then ‘Storm’ appears! She zaps the rest of the X-Men (and Amanda Sefton), successfully finishing their master-plan.

It’s not entirely clear what the Hellfire Club wants with the X-Men this time, but I’m assuming it’s more experimentation to improve the sentinels? Eh, doesn’t matter! Nefarious Hellfire Club is nefarious.

The real Storm, meanwhile, comes to claim Kitty, forgetting that she looks like the one and only Emma Frost. Kitty spooks and Storm accidentally reaches out, knocking her out telepathically. Whoops! Storm takes Kitty and flees in a car, while Emma gives chase. (How dare Ororo run off with her body, which is absolutely the kind of hypocritical hilariousness we all love Emma for.)

Kitty awakens and jumps from the car, causing Storm to swerve and...

JETSTREAM!? Speaking of which, where are the Hellions in all of this?

Kitty sees that an unconscious ‘Emma’ is about to burn to a tender and moist little crisp and she is faced with the hero’s dilemma: would you save a villain that would never save you?

Emma, meanwhile, has realized the downside to body-swapping: somebody else gets to run around with your body too. Shaw, of all people, talks her down from her anger.

You can’t just introduce a persona exchange gun to the plot WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHERE THE FUCK YOU GOT IT FROM.

My favorite detail is that Emma keeps calling Kitty brat, like she’s some sort of Pokémon-villain.

Kitty, meanwhile, has saved ‘Emma’ and tied her up with a special knot. Storm tries to convince Kitty, going for the “ask me something only Storm would know”, but Kitty’s all: “Duh, you’re a telepath.” Ororo insists, but the thing that clinches it is when she breaks free of her ties without breaking a sweat. That knot was taught to Kitty by Ororo and she’d be the only one who knew how to break out of it.

Storm and Kitty recruit Stevie Hunter to come pick them up and during the ride, Storm-being-angry-mother!Storm convinces Kitty more than anything else:

After all, Storm was voted most likely to say: “If you don’t stop this nonsense immediately, I will turn this Blackbird around, so help me God!”

Ororo and Kitty sneak inside. Ororo even uses Emma’s telepathy to help her pick a lock after phasing through a door. (Kind of funny: Kitty’s still such a neophyte that she can’t even phase with anyone else yet.) Emma, meanwhile, taunts the captured X-Men, presenting herself as the new white queen:

Anybody feel the inclination to point out that the Hellfire Club did this exact same thing last year, except then they tried it with a redhead?

I secretly suspect that the Hellfire Club’s plots always revolve around seducing X-Men to their side and dressing them up in sexy lingerie. (Which: fair.) There’s also a subplot where the guys Wolverine cut apart last year want to exact revenge on him for being made bionic, but eh. We’ll start paying attention to them when they become actual Reavers.

Kitty phases through the locks of the X-Men, freeing them, and a kerfuffle ensues. Emma starts using Storm’s powers, but they grow out of control. Colossus tosses Shaw out of the window - which should just be company policy, really: all Shaws should be defenestrated - where he’s promptly hit by a rogue thunderbolt.

When he doesn’t get up, Emma starts to lose it. The weather goes wild. Storm intervenes, using her telepathic power to help calm down Emma (and the raging storm), but she also manages to get a hold of the swap-gun. There’s a zap, and with a satisfied sigh, the status-quo is restored again.

My favorite implication is that, apparently, Emma decides which school Kitty attends and not her parents.

While this little arc is neither the most iconic nor the most profound of 1981 -- those would be Days of Future Past and I, Magneto, respectively -- I still love this for a couple of reasons.

As a lover of Freaky Friday, 17 Again and the new Jumanji-film, I just have a soft spot for body swap plots. (Hi Psylocke!)

It focuses on the Xavier Institute as a school, planting seeds for the upcoming New Mutants.

It is very female-driven without beating you over the head with it. (Looking at you, Birds of Prey.)

It has three definitive main characters, who all get fleshed out in fun and interesting ways. It starts the trend of robbing Ororo of some of her powers and tossing her into against-the-odds circumstances, only for her to come out on top.

It solidifies the Storm/Kitty mother/daughter (or older/younger sibling) dynamic. Kitty is a believable teenager when it comes to Storm - clever and kind, but also looking for answers and prone to rash decisions - and I love how much they care for each other.

Jean/Storm-friendship-callback, yay!

Emma gets fleshed out as a villain. Resourceful and petty, powerful and vain. It’s no wonder she’s one of the break-out antagonists of the X-Men, because, like Magneto, Claremont is not afraid of giving her depth. Arguably, she is the most three-dimensional of the Hellfire Club at this point.

Yay! And fuck completely sensible plots, if you don’t know what to do with your plot, just introduce a random persona exchange gun. Let’s use it on Xavier and Legion in Way of X next!

#x-men abridged #abridged x-men #x-men #storm #professor x #kitty pryde #uncanny x-men #emma frost #cyclops #nightcrawler #stevie hunter #colossus #sebastian shaw

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beifongsss · 4 years

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love amongst the dragons [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: Yes! By an outstanding anon!: “hiya there I saw that you’re open for request and i’ve read all of your Zuko fics and they are incredible! I want to request a Zuko x reader too please in which it’s several years after his coronation and he’s back on vacation to Ember Island with the Gaang and Uncle Iroh, as it happens his favorite play “Love amongst the Dragons” is being performed and Zuko dragged them all to the theater, just for him to become mesmerized by the leading female performer which is the reader :) thanks xx”

i changed the request just a bit i’m sorry anon :(

Summary: When Iroh dragged everyone to the theatre while vacationing on Ember Island, Zuko did not expect to be so entranced by the lead play.

.masterlist.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been Sokka’s idea this time.

Instead, it had been Iroh who had suggested that they go see “Love Amongst the Dragons” as soon as they got to Ember Island. It had been a few years since the Gaang had been on Ember Island but the stress of being Fire Lord was getting to Zuko so Iroh had written to all of his friends, inviting them to a week long retreat at the famed island. They had all accepted of course, especially when Iroh promised to bring them some of his favorite tea leaves.

Aang was undoubtedly the most excited, agreeing with Iroh’s idea almost immediately. Everyone else was a little hesitant, remembering the last time they had gone to see the Ember Island Players.

“C’mon Zuko,” Aang said, walking up to the older boy with a pleading look on his face. “Didn’t you say that it was your favorite play when you were a kid?”

“No,” Zuko snapped, looking away from Aang. “It was my mother’s favorite.”

The conversation had ended there, or so Zuko had thought. Halfway through the week, he had agreed to let Katara plan out a day’s schedule. He hadn’t expected her to give in to Aang’s request so easily although looking back on it now, he wondered how he expected her to deny her boyfriend anything. Especially when he had those big, sparkling eyes.

And so Fire Lord Zuko found himself being dragged into the theater by Toph, who was the only one he was scared of disobeying.

“C’mon Sparky Pants,” Toph said, tugging Zuko along as she made her way to the front row. “We got good seats this time so I can actually see what’s going on.”

Zuko huffed and rolled his eyes as he sat next to the small earthbender, Sokka sitting on his other side. Suki filled in the end of the row while Iroh, Aang, and Katara filled the second row. Toph turned to talk to Iroh, who was sitting directly behind Zuko, about the play and proceeded to ask him various questions. Zuko tried to ignore the girl, pouting as he realized that he was going to have to watch another butchered play.

After a few minutes, the lights dimmed and the theater’s manager stepped out on stage. His eyes quickly flickered to where the Gaang was sitting and Zuko sunk in his seat as he realized what was coming.

“Good evening everybody,” the man spoke, a wide smile now on his face “Thank you for joining us tonight for a very special showing of “Love Amongst the Dragons”. Tonight, we have our very own Fire Lord and the Avatar joining us. Please enjoy the show.”

The audience applauded as they all shifted their gazes to where Zuko was sitting. After receiving an encouraging kick from Iroh, he straightened up and forced a smile onto his face as he looked around and waved. Once the lights fully went out, he slumped in his seat, letting out a loud sigh as Toph snickered.

He elbowed her softly, the two of them bickering quietly before Sokka suddenly began to repeatedly slap Zuko’s arm.

“Shh! It’s starting. Look!” Sokka was already invested in the play even though there wasn’t anything remotely interesting happening. Zuko let out another angst-filled sigh as he focused on the play, barely paying attention as the Dragon Emperor took the stage and the play began. Zuko couldn’t deny that the play wasn’t as bad as he remembered it being, but that still didn’t mean he was enjoying it.

Zuko’s eyelids were drooping as the play continued, the young Fire Lord barely paying attention as the Dragon Emperor was bound to the mortal world by the Dark Water Spirit and forced to take the name Noren. In fact, Zuko was about to give in and sleep through the play when his attention was caught by a loud, clear voice. He jolted up, his eyes landing on the actress who had just appeared on stage.

The entire theater went silent as you emerged, speaking your lines so smoothly that it seemed as though you were merely having a conversation and not acting. You were wearing a gorgeous blue dress, the hem swaying as you walked forwards. Your steps were swift but gentle, making it seem as though you were gliding across the stage.

Zuko was so entranced by you acting that he didn’t look away from you once, not even when you subtly looked over to the area where they had told you that the Fire Lord and his friends were sitting in. Your eyes swept across the audience as you spoke, and you had to take a deep breath when you accidentally made eye contact with a pair of piercing golden eyes. You mentally thanked the makeup artist, glad that your blush wasn’t visible.

Back in the audience, Zuko’s jaw dropped slightly as his eyes met yours and he mentally thanked the spirits that Toph had gotten front row seats. You were gorgeous, ethereal. Your (H/C) hair was styled perfectly and your eyes were sparkling. Zuko felt a bit breathless.

“So,” Toph whispered, leaning in towards Zuko. “I take it the leading actress is hot?”

Zuko stayed silent, looking at Toph with a panicked expression as he wondered how she knew that if she was blind. Snorting, Toph explained. “Your heart rate shot up when she came out Sparky. You’re not the most subtle.”

A scowl formed on Zuko’s face but before he could reply, Sokka did it for him.

“Hey Zuko, buddy,” Sokka said, looking at the boy. “Maybe you should close your mouth before you catch any flies. Not that I blame you, she’s beautiful.”

“Who is?” Suki asked, leaning in close so that she wasn’t too loud. Zuko stuttered for a moment before Sokka once again spoke.

“The lead!”

“Oh yeah, she’s gorgeous,” Suki agreed, leaning back in her seat.

“If only I were single,” Sokka and Suki sighed in unison, giving each other slightly offended looks before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Zuko rolled his eyes at their antics before focusing on the play once again.

The rest of the play passed flawlessly, and Zuko found his attention captured by you every single second you were onstage. For once, he didn’t feel bored. It wasn’t only because you were attractive (he had given up denying that statement after Sokka had elbowed him for the fiftieth time), it was because after years he was finally seeing his mother’s favorite play being performed the way it was meant to be.

Even on stage you didn’t remain oblivious to the gaze that followed you around. Sure, you had whole audiences who watched you, but the stare that the Fire Lord was giving you was intense and you began to wonder if he wasn’t enjoying the play. Your fellow actors had noticed as well, and during the intermission you found yourself being teased about your new “admirer”.

It was also during the intermission that the manager slipped backstage and informed the cast that the Fire Lord and his friends would be coming backstage after the show. The cast all slipped into a panic as you tried to clean up the space as best as you could. The rest of the play passed by in a blur, everyone anxious for what was to come. Even with the nervousness, you never messed up once and Zuko’s eyes stayed on you the whole time.

On stage, Noren managed to defeat the Dark Water Spirit and reunite with your character, who ended up being the Dragon Empress. In Zuko’s opinion, the play ended way too quickly. He found himself clapping a little too loudly, causing Sokka to give him a sly glance as he stretched slightly and began to make his way out of the row. He didn’t get too far before Iroh gently grabbed his arm, causing him to stop and look at the older male in confusion.

“We are not leaving yet Zuko,” Iroh said, a suspicious glimmer in his eyes as he smiled at the boy. “The theater manager is an old Pai Sho buddy of mine and he agreed to give us a tour backstage.”

“You mean we’ll get to meet the actors?” Aang asked, exchanging excited glances with Sokka. Iroh nodded. The group began to walk towards the stage, Toph staying behind slightly as she noticed that Zuko hadn’t moved from his spot.

“Try not to embarrass yourself Sparky,” she teased, punching his arm as she walked past him. Grumbling, Zuko followed the small girl backstage and came to a stop next to Sokka.

“Ah, Sotar!” Iroh exclaimed, embracing the theater manager. The two men laughed and greeted each other before he turned and bowed to Zuko.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Sotar said before turning and bowing to Aang. “Avatar Aang. It is an honor to have you here. I hope the play was to your liking.”

“It was awesome!” Aang replied, bringing a smile to Sotar’s face. He turned to Zuko but before he could answer, someone bumped into him. Zuko turned to face the person, coming face to face with the lead actor.

“Forgive me, Fire Lord Zuko,” the actor said, bowing deeply after regaining his balance. “I lost my balance.”

“It’s alright,” Zuko replied quietly, shifting closer to Sokka. “Your performance was great.”

“Jenor is the finest actor we have,” Sotar boasted, smiling proudly at the actor. “We are truly lucky to have him.”

The actor, Jenor, blushed lightly at the praise before speaking. “Thank you, but I’m afraid the real star of the show is (Y/N). I wonder where she is.”

“I’m right here.”

The group turned around as a quiet voice spoke. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on you. Spirits, you were prettier up close.

“Um, thanks,” you said, the blush dusting your cheeks visible now that you had taken off your makeup. You ignored Jenor’s gaze as you remembered the teasing from earlier.

Zuko’s eyes widened in embarrassment as he realized that he had spoken out loud. He immediately avoided your gaze, instead shooting a glare at Sokka as the boy tried not to choke on his laughter.

“Good going Sparky,” Toph whispered, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips. Zuko rolled his eyes at the younger girl before focusing on you as you walked up to him.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” you said, dropping into a dramatic bow. You proceeded to do the same thing to Aang before giving slightly smaller bows to everybody else. “I am (Y/N) (L/N), lead actress of “Love Amongst the Dragons”. It is truly an honor to be in your presence. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Zuko didn’t trust himself to speak without embarrassing himself again and instead chose to stay silent, merely bowing his head in response.

“Zuko, where are your manners?!” Iroh spoke, coming up behind his nephew. “My apologies Miss (Y/N), my nephew greatly enjoyed the performance. He was so impressed by it that his eyes didn’t leave you for a single second!”

This time, Sokka couldn’t hold back his laughter, resulting in Suki grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the group. “We’re gonna go look at the ummm, at the costumes!”

Aang engaged in a conversation with Jenor, and the two of them began to walk away slowly, trying to escape the awkward situation created by Iroh. Zuko stood in Iroh’s grasp, trying his best not to shoot a glare at his uncle as Katara stared as him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you finally said, smiling softly at the retired general’s words. “We all put in a lot of work.”

“It was most impressive indeed,” Iroh said, straightening up and looking around. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have quite a bit of catching up to do with Sotar.”

You gave Iroh one last bow before he hurried off, trying to locate his old friend. It was silent for a few seconds before Toph finally spoke up. “Hey Katara? Where did Aang go? He promised me he was going to be my guide for the night!”

Katara smirked slightly at Toph’s words, knowing that the girl didn’t need a guide. She reached over and grabbed the girl’s hands before looking at you and Zuko apologetically. “I’m sorry, we really have to go find Aang. It was nice to meet you (Y/N), you are an amazing actress.”

You thanked the Water Tribe girl as she walked away before facing Zuko, who was currently struggling as he tried to figure out what to say.

“So,” he finally spoke, losing his train of thought as he noticed the small smile on your face. “You like acting?”

The smile on your face widened at his words. “Yes I do, Fire Lord Zuko.”

Zuko’s face scrunched up at the use of his title, not liking how formal you were being. “You don’t have to call me ‘Fire Lord’. Just Zuko is fine.”

You nodded silently before speaking again. “Alright Zuko. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose to come watch the play? I’m certain that as the Fire Lord, you have more exciting things to do.”

Zuko smiled at your teasing tone, relaxing slightly as he realized that you were treating him as normally as you could. “We’re on vacation. My uncle remembered that this was my mother’s favorite play and Aang insisted on watching it.”

“Oh?” you asked mildly surprised. You vaguely remembered Fire Lady Ursa and you felt your heart ache slightly for the Fire Lord. “It was?”

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded, still not meeting your eyes for fear of freezing up. “She would make us watch it every year when we came here on vacation. I always begged her to leave me at home.”

“Why?”

“Because the Ember Island Players always butchered the play,” Zuko said immediately, his eyes widening when he realized what he had said. He glanced up to meet your eyes, prepared to apologize for offending you.

Instead, he was met with eyes full of mirth and his panic subsided faintly as you began to chuckle.

“I-I’m sorry,” Zuko said, trying to take his words back. “I didn’t mean t-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, sending him an apologetic smile. “You’re absolutely right. Not to sound rude or anything, but I think that was partly due to the fact that the previous lead actress was so hard to work with. I think that the play has become somewhat better since then.”

“Definitely,” Zuko said, chuckling along with you. “They certainly made the right choice when casting the lead actress. You did an amazing job.”

It was your turn to blush as Zuko kept speaking.

“You’re very talented, (Y/N). You have such a powerful stage presence and the delivery of your lines is flawless. You truly stole the show. I think that the audience was more focused on you than they were on Jenor and you managed to keep everyone captivated.”

“Including you, my Lord?” you asked, a flirtatious lilt to your voice as you spoke. Zuko’s next words faltered as his eyes met yours and you felt yourself smirk lightly as a deep blush spread across his cheeks.

“Especially him!” Toph’s loud voice rang as she leaned against Zuko’s shoulder. You burst into laughter at the young girl’s words and Zuko found himself speechless at your laugh. Apparently everything about you was beautiful.

“I thought you were going to find Aang,” Zuko said through gritted teeth, pushing Toph off of him.

“I was but Iroh sent me to tell you it’s time to go,” Toph said, a wide grin on her face. “Oh, and he also told me to tell (Y/N) that he’d love it if you joined Zuko here for a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon next time you’re free.”

Zuko groaned at her words and shot a glare at his uncle, not wanting to meet your eyes for fear of rejection.

“I’d be honored to,” came your reply. Zuko’s head whipped around and he stared at you as you grinned at him. “That is, if it’s okay with the Fire Lord.”

A little starstruck, Zuko simply nodded. You stepped closer to him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s a date then.”

Zuko grinned dazedly as he was pulled away by Toph, a teasing smile on her face as she led him to the rest of the group. You looked after them for a few seconds before walking away, only pausing to laugh at their conversation.

“I can’t believe your uncle has to set up your dates for you.”

“Shut up!”

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curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 1)

Part 1: Burning on the Edge of Something Beautiful

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Alex finds herself personally affected by the Rothswell case and Gabe attempts to find out why.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.8k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied sexual content, alcohol consumption

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogues belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Wednesday Evening at McGraw Byrne

Back from a day in the courts, Gabe stepped out of the elevator and into the halls of McGraw Byrne. Eager to finish the day's work, he passed by the break room where he unwittingly heard something that made him instantly halt.

"Did you see how clammed up Keating became when you asked her that question?" Gabe heard Vanderweil's deep voice.

"Actually, I sensed something irked her during the ride back. Seems like I did strike a chord," a serious female voice replied, which Gabe presumed was Sinclair's.

He made the assumption that the line of conversation was about their visit to the Rothswell's mansion. Earlier that day, the law firm's major client Philip Rothswell, demanded that they see to the whole Lydia and Joey situation. So Gabe and Sadie instructed the associates to go see the young heiress, trying to give the firm more time to create a more solid strategy than playing family counselor.

When they were placating Rothswell, he noticed how Alex fidgeted in her chair as she listened to their client. The way her body pulled up every defensive stance in the book full with meaning.

Seems that what he just overheard confirmed his suspicions. Something was bothering Alex Keating. And like all things Alex, it piqued at his curiosity.

It irked him that he did, more than he was willing to admit. Seems like even as trivial as office gossip, as long as its about her, Gabe is guaranteed to take notice.

Hastening his strides, he continued on to his plush new office, the setting sun coloring the wood furnishings with a hue of orange. He tossed his briefcase on the khaki couch, his leather soles padding on the clean white carpet. Loosening his tie, he crossed the room towards his desk. He took off his coat, hanging it on the rack nearby and turned to face the glass walls which offered a much better view of the concrete jungle below.

His mind whirred as he rationalized with himself as to why he was so invested with Alex. He initially chalked it up as a familiar, primal response to her... attractiveness. Yet as he watched her emerge from every pressure test and challenge he and Sadie gave her, he can't help but root for her.

It's not just that. After a long time, Gabe wanted to be near someone. He wanted to hear what bothers them, their goals, even their history. A level of interest he never exhibited to his usual carnal pursuits.

She stirred up something sleeping within him, something he willed never to return.

Consumed by the thoughts of her, Gabe finds himself glancing at his Rolex and hatching a guise to know what made the mighty Alex Keating got so worked up about.

Sometime later, uptown New York

"Alex... Have you ever had someone like Joey mess with your head? It's not about smart or stupid," Gigi had asked.

Alex poked her fork at the piece of chocolate soufflé as her mind whirled back to the ride back to the office.

"I'm not buying you any more of that Riesling if you wouldn't even bother being a worthy companion," Gabe teased, before downing another glass of scotch across her.

Her head immediately perked up, breaking free from her introspection. Alex forced a smile in response.

"As if another glass would make a dent in your indomitable fortune," she leaned back, trying to hide her thoughts under the façade of her sarcasm, rolling her eyes at him for added effect.

The two find themselves in a swanky New York restaurant, its upscale interior design worthy of the five star Yelp rating. The sleek tables and gray scandinavian chairs made Alex grateful that her wine red dress fit among the crowd. With a private booth overlooking the city lights and the delicious gourmet food served, she did not regret accepting Gabe's dinner invitation to meet a client.

Her mind decided that more work and Gabe's company was a great way to distract herself from the nagging of her memories, and it didn't hurt that the senior partner was easy on the eyes.

And when the supposed big shot canceled at the last minute, Alex completely saw it as a win.

"Something bothers you." Gabe suddenly articulated, breaking her from her contemplations.

Alex's brow arched in reply, as Gabe stated it like a fact, not as a question.

Crossing her legs under the table, she folded her arms across her chest.

"And why does that concern my pretend-boyfriend, hm?" she interjected, hoping to evade his interrogation.

"You're not the only astute one in this booth," Gabe let his eyes trail across her defensive stance the second time today.

Throughout the course of their meal, the heat between them simmered as well as the flow of their usual banter. Their chemistry was palpable, convincing even the waiter of the restaurant. The cocky man was certainly redefining the phrase hot and cold for Alex. He quickly and easily shut down her attempts to flirt, pulling back when the temperature between them reached a boiling point.

But Alex was more surprised, pleasantly so, when Gabe briefly opened up about his past and the vague explanation of why he's still not settled down.

She sensed the current trajectory of their conversation was what Gabe planned to have all along.

But now, as she swirled the remaining expensive liquid in her glass, trying to decide whether to put her guards up or to just give in, she couldn't deny the uncharacteristic softness in his gaze. It was magnetizing, making Alex want to fold and drop her pretentions.

She watched him as he seemed to eagerly anticipate for her retort, a half smile lingering on that pretty mouth of his.

Alex knew he won't push her if she didn't want to, yet a part of her wanted to share the heaviness that weighed on her shoulder since meeting Lydia Rothswell. Of how much the teenager reminded her of her old, naïve self.

She's been trying to rack her brain for a reasonable explanation for her growing desire to introduce herself to Gabe more than she'd allowed the string of men that she had trysts with. Despite her continuous self-denial, her gut is telling her that Gabe wasn't like any other she crossed paths with.

Making up her mind, she decided to let the door open. Maybe just a little.

She sipped her wine beckoning some needed courage, wishing that she ordered something stronger.

Taking a deep breath, she began, her eyes fixed on the view behind him.

"Since you were wondering, my otherwise impeccable track record is stained by one mistake," she paused, finally turning her gaze to Gabe's waiting eyes.

"Like Lydia, I trusted the wrong person," she continued. "I... risked everything and got nothing."

Gabe's mouth twitched ever so slightly, sensing a fluttering in him because of Alex's candor. There was no trace of the witty comebacks he'd grown to see in her, only vulnerability.

And somehow, he adored her more.

He watched her as she bit her thumbnail, an action greatly contradicting the fiery personality she projected in front of everyone else.

Alex gritted her teeth as she fought back the overwhelming emotions as she stopped herself from revealing more than she's prepared to. Not yet, not tonight, she thought.

"But I woke up from that nightmare, solemnly swearing to myself that I wouldn't repeat the same wrong decision that almost railroaded my whole future," she concluded, determined not to expose herself any further.

A hush fell between them.

Alex raised her head to meet the eyes of the man that made her walls crack, expecting to find intrigue. Instead, she found a subtle look of understanding.

It's as if it was telling her that he knew. He knew every pain and every hurt that she wanted to just forget and bury inside a box, never to be opened again.

Just because for him, pain was a familiar companion. That like her, he too, has been through hell and back.

And while she relished under his attention, her breath slowed, letting herself be trapped within the depths of those reassuring brown eyes. Alex thought nothing can make her drop down her guard, but Gabe's next actions proved that there's still more he can do to break down her walls.

Without thinking, Gabe reached for her hand and took it in his, skimming his own thumb on her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her. He smiled warmly at her, expressing a gentleness that she never thought he was capable of.

It made Alex's heart skip a beat.

Even Gabe seemed to slowly enter the same daze, unable to veer away from Alex's unguarded view. Any remnants of his resistance, leaving him. He found himself leaning in, lured by the heady scent of her perfume - a mix of coffee, vanilla and jasmine. An unexpected combination that enticed him more to her.

For a few moments, their world stood still, as if they were on the edge of discovering something that all their lives they subconsciously sought.

Something more than any flirtation or any pursuit for lustful pleasure. Something more...

"More drinks, Gabe?" a familiar voice broke them from the temporary oasis that they pulled themselves in.

All of a sudden, they were sucked back to the reality of their actual surroundings. The noise of other patrons of the restaurant, the soft ambience of the lights overhead, and the fact that he was her current boss, and that she was under his professional supervision.

Gabe turned to James, their waiter, and refused the offer nonchalantly, and instead asked for their check.

"We should head back to the salt mines, the stack of work on my desk probably hasn't gotten any smaller since we left," Gabe casually said, erasing any trace of what just happened between them. Alex silently agreed, following his queue by checking her phone for emails.

The trip to the lobby was wordless, as well as the wait for their ride. Up until Gabe opened the door of the town car, not following Alex inside.

"Aren't you coming?" Alex inquired, briefly confused.

He cleared his throat, his expression stoic before he answered her. "I think its best if we part ways here. I wasn't kidding about needing to head back to the office," he paused, a look of contemplation in his eyes before it softly shifted to that of sincerity.

"You, on the other hand, should go home and get some rest. Partner's orders."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "Whatever you say, Gabe."

"Careful, Alex. I just might hold you to that promise one of these days," Gabe replied, the usual playfulness evident in his tone.

And with that, the door closed and the car pulled away.

But as Gabe watched the vehicle fade out of his sight, his phone pinged for an email. Glancing down at his screen, he saw the name of the sender, prompting him to open it in haste.

The message contained a single statement: "I found what you asked me to look for." An attachment was included.

When he opened the file, he saw a picture of a younger version of the woman he just parted from.

And a look of recognition passed over his face.

Author's Notes: This is getting a little canon divergent, though I'm just expanding their dinner conversation and using the intimate setting provided in the original book.

Tags: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed on succeeding installments. If not, please reblog or comment, I'd really appreciate it!

#choices laws of attraction #choices fanfiction #choices loa #choices loa fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #gabe ricci #gabe ricci x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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