#did i just want an excuse to draw them revealing outfits. yes

[transmascsimonriley]

idk man. Happy Easter

[winns-stuff]

The issue with Persephone's sexualization is that 1) it's so forced and 2) it adds nothing to her character. Yes, women with Persephone's height can be curvy and yes women can like wearing revealing clothes, but RS can't go one chapter without focusing on Persephone's cleavage or butt. Sometimes she will just be sitting or leaning over and RS makes sure that the reader's eyes are directed to her boobs. It really feels like RS wants to make sure the viewer knows Persephone is supposed to be hot. And this add nothing to her characterization because RS never explains why Persephone would be into certain styles of clothing that draw so much attention to her body. Does she feel pressured to wear certain outfits to appear older, does she like the style, does it help her self-esteem to wear certain outfits? The fact that a lot of her outfits aren't even picked by her doesn't help. Like, what was the point of her black dress during the Kronos fight? What did it tell us about Dread Queen Persephone aside from the fact that she has big boobs?

I completely agree with you, the sexualization of Persephone is unnecessary and it’s quite sad that RS believes that to show off hot characters you have to sexualize them. If a character is hot, they’re hot you shouldn’t have to put in this extra work to exploit their bodies. Besides, being attracted to someone isn’t always a physical thing which I absolutely hate the way that Hades and Persephone’s whole relationship is based off of them being physically attracted to each other. Yes, I know that “Persephone does nice things for him!!” argument is there but to be honest with you… Persephone doesn’t actually do nice things for Hades? Like she just says the bare minimum and he worships the ground she walks on. Which is weird because he has a support team of his own and people who are nice to him, so it’s not like he’s never been shown kindness or anything because he has. But Persephone has never shown genuine acts of kindness towards Hades, she’s never done anything nice for him just because she wants to, she’s never respected his wishes, she’s never thought about his feelings towards situations, all she does is just use him really and it’s hard to read at times.

But back to physical attraction. You don’t always have to fall for them for their looks, and true love shouldn’t be so superficial to the point where you’re both using each other for your bodies it’s just a very tasteless sort of romance thing that many romance comics suffer from. There’s a lot of times a person falls for someone for their personality, they probably think it lights up the room. Or what they did for them in the past/present, helping each other and sticking by each other’s sides even when they’re in a rough spot. Being devoted to each other in a way that no other person would be, there’s a difference between being obsessed and devoted and it’s night and day, think of Gomez and Morticia (yes this is an excuse to talk about them) they’re both devoted to each other and stable in their relationship, they love and support each other and they’re always there for one another. That’s devotion to a person, equally sharing your time and experience even sometimes emotions with that person and supporting them. What Hades is doing is absolute obsession, he’s lusting after Persephone and caving into the smallest things she does and it feels like he can’t stand being away from Persephone for even one second. It’s unhealthy because it doesn’t feel like he just loves her a lot, it feels like he thinks she’s his property. There’s a difference.

Sadly though many people think it’s hot and they’ll continue to think overly obsessive people are neat and they’ll continue to mistake it for love. Which I genuinely hate because I used to think that too, I enjoyed the thought of someone being obsessed with me because I felt like that equates to that person wanting me and only having eyes for me. But soon when I got a little older I realized I don’t want someone obsessing over me like that, I just wanted someone who was willing to love and stick by me and accept me for who I was. I’m sure a lot of young girls feel like that when they’re fawning over stalkers and romanticized obsessive guys and such, I don’t even blame them since LO is a prime example at how media always romanticizes someone’s obsession with someone else. It’s not romantic or true love and I’m tired of Lore Olympus marking it that way.

[sgstories123]

Daddy-O

“Daddy-O! Thanks for picking us up.” Charlene threw her bags of shopping into the front seat of the gleaming blue BMW before joining her friend Rachel at the back of the car.

Mr Tan just smiled at her 18 year-old daughter. He is a successful businessman but he has spent so little time on his family that his wife left him a couple of years ago. Since then, he swore to spend more time on his daughter and less time making money. So when his daughter wanted him to fetch her home from a shopping trip, he cancelled his meetings for the day and left to pick her up.

Mr Tan looked at the rear view mirror. He knew Rachel. She was one of Charlene’s shopping buddies and had been to their house several times. She looked a bit like Charlene and can easily be mistaken to be her sister or cousin. Both were about the same height of 1.7metres and spotting a slim and slender frame. They both enjoyed water sports and so both were tanned with perhaps Rachel being slightly darker with slightly larger breasts than Charlene. Their mannerisms were quite similar too. Both were now giggling at some jokes and flicking their long hair back as they threw their heads back in laughter.

“What did you buy, girls?” Mr Tan asked from the front of the car.

“New bikinis,” Charlene replied immediately. “We are having a weekend pool party so we bought new outfits. And, Daddy-O, there was this beautiful designer bag that I just got to have. It costs a bomb but I don’t think you will mind, right?”

“Of course not. Anything for my daughter,” smiled Mr Tan.

“Rachel wanted it too but she spent all her money on the bikinis. She…oh wait.” Charlene stopped talking and looked intently at the message on her handphone.

“Shucks! I forgot that we are supposed to meet our lecturer for the group project discussion today. I am going to be so screwed.” Charlene whined. “Daddy-O, can you drop me off at school?”

“Oh. Shall I accompany you to school then?” Rachel asked.

“No. That is not necessary. I will be done in about an hour or so. Why don’t you head back to my house and wait for me?” Charlene replied without looking up from texting an excuse to her study group.

A few minutes later, Mr Tan dropped Charlene off at her school. “See you later, Rachel!” Charlene shouted before closing the car door and waving a quick good-bye to her father.

Mr Tan drove back to his condominium with Rachel in his car. He had never spent time alone with Rachel before as Charlene was always around. He found her to be quite charming. They shared a couple of jokes and laughed together happily. Looking at her through the rear mirror, he realised that she was quite pretty and attractive.

Once they reached his home, he opened the door to his condominium unit and invited Rachel in. “You have been here several times. Make yourself at home.” He left the shopping bags on the sofa. “Looks like you girls have been busy cleaning up the shops,” he smiled. “There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Rachel went into the kitchen while Mr Tan sat down in on the sofa and switched on the television. He was feeling a little tired. “Do you want me to get you something, Uncle?” Rachel called from the kitchen.

“Oh, thanks! Can you get me a beer?” Mr Tan called out, surfing for a good Netflix movie.

He heard a Rachel coming out of the kitchen with two cans of beer in her hand. She set a can on the table and opened the other. The beer foamed out of the can, leaving a trail on the side of the can. Rachel instinctively licked the side of the can, stretching her pink tongue over the can. She pursed her lips and sipped off the excess beer. Mr Tan found that extremely erotic and his cock got hard, making an uncomfortable dent in his pants.

“Oops. Sorry about that. Here’s your beer, Uncle.” Rachel handed the can to Mr Tan. He took a sip, knowing that he just drank Rachel’s saliva mixed with the beer.

Rachel opened her own can of beer and again, the beer foamed out of the can. This time, it dripped onto her t-shirt, making a tiny dark patch on her breasts. Rachel licked the can again and this time, Mr Tan looked more intently at her tongue, imagining how it would feel if it was on his hard, warm cock instead of the cold, metallic can.

“Gosh. I am so careless. I need to wash this.” Rachel sighed. She took off her t-shirt, revealing a white bra covering a pair of perfect, round breasts. She walked into the kitchen to wash her t-shirt and returned to Mr Tan, still in her bra.

Mr Tan tried to appear nonchalant and not look at Rachel. “I didn’t know you drink beer. I thought young girls will go for Coke or something like that.”

“Nah. I drink beer once in a while. It is relaxing.” Rachel looked at Mr Tan. “Don’t worry. Charlene is not a beer person. She is a good girl.” Rachel laughed and reassured Mr Tan.

“No, you misunderstood me. I am not saying that drinking beer is bad. Just surprised. That’s all.” Mr Tan blushed in embarrassment.

“Are you blushing? Gosh, that’s so cute.” Rachel giggles. That made Mr Tan blushed even more. Was it the beer?

“Here, let me show you what we bought today.” Rachel reached over Mr Tan to grab a shopping bag. Mr Tan could feel Rachel’s breast resting on his chest. His cock was harder than ever and he hoped Rachel will not notice.

Rachel pulled out a red bikini. “Nice? Let me wear it for you.” She stood up and removed her bra, exposing her bare breasts. Mr Tan caught a quick glimpse of small, pinkish nipples before they disappeared behind the red bikini. Rachel pulled off her pants, revealing matching white panties. These were pulled off and for a short while, Mr Tan caught sight of a small triangle of pubic hair and a faintly visible slit before they were covered up by the red bikini again.

“Nice?” Rachel asked again? Mr Tan looked at the 18-year old girl, dressed in a red bikini that showed off her cleavage well. Rachel’s tanned, athletic and slender legs were made even sexier in the little red thong that Mr Tan knew barely covered her privates.

“Yes. Very sexy. I am sure all the boys would be attracted by you.” Myself included. Mr Tan thought to himself. Trying to shift his thoughts elsewhere, he asked “What is this bag that Charlene liked so much?”

“Oh. It is the latest model. Very pretty. Here, let me show you.” Rachel rummaged through the shopping bags before taking out a small, squarish blue bag out of a box.

Rachel caressed the bag lovingly, her eyes not leaving it for even a second. “I wished my dad was as generous as you, Uncle. I would have loved to have this bag too. Imagine if Charlene and I both went shopping with this bag.” Rachel sighed.

Rachel put away the bag in its protective case carefully before returning to her seat next to Mr Tan. She continued sipping her beer and watching the television, seemingly lost in thought.

She turned around and looked at Mr Tan. “Uncle, if I am your daughter, will you treat me like Charlene and buy me whatever I want?”

“Of course! Why not?” Mr Tan replied. “You are so pretty. Any daddy will want to spoil you with gifts.”

“Then, can you be my daddy and buy me gifts?”

“What do you mean? Adopt you?” Mr Tan was confused.

“Ha ha!” Rachel laughed. “That’s funny. I mean be my sugar daddy. Let me show you what I can do.”

Without waiting for his response, Rachel leaned forwards and unbuckled Mr Tan’s belt. Her fingers brushed on his hard cock. She turned up to look at Mr Tan with surprise. “Gosh! Are you already hard?”

She unzipped his pants, revealing Mr Tan’s hard cock straining against his underwear. She pulled down the underwear, releasing his cock. Finally, Mr Tan’s cock was free from the confines of his underwear.

“You have a nice, thick cock, Daddy.” Rachel was going with the flow now. “Can I please suck it, Daddy?”

Mr Tan did not know how to react. Here was a sexy young girl in a red bikini offering him a blowjob but this young girl was also his daughter’s friend.

“Pretty, please, Daddy? I promise to be good.” Rachel whined in the most innocent and seductive voice. Mr Tan heard himself say “Yes, be a good girl and suck on my cock.” Did he say that? He seemed to be in a daze.

Rachel need no further encouragement. She spit on the head of the cock and using her tongue, she smeared the saliva all over the cock, lubricating it. Slowly, she engulfed the head of the cock, pressing her lips tightly on the tip and drawing a sigh of pleasure from Mr Tan. Her left hand stroked the shaft slowly, drawing seductively lines along the length of the cock. Her right hand cupped his balls, squeezing them gently. Occasionally, she will gently scratch the base of his cock, just behind the balls with her fingers, making Mr Tan gasped in pleasure.

Slowly, she drew in more of his cock, all the while sucking and maintaining pressure on his cock. Finally, she had swallowed his whole cock in her mouth, with the tip of his cock touching the back of her mouth. She continued sucking with her left hand now alternating between squeezing the base of his cock and jerking it.

Mr Tan was moaning in pleasure from the blowjob. Rachel was very good at this. He held on to her head, guiding her to enhance his pleasure. Once Rachel had his whole cock in her mouth, he knew he could not hold back any further. He felt his balls tighten and shot his load into her mouth. Instead of pulling away, Rachel continued to suck and squeeze every drop of his cum. When she was done, she pulled away and smiled seductively at Mr Tan. She opened her mouth to show him his cum in her mouth, before swallowing everything in one gulp.

Rachel got up and sat on Mr Tan’s lap. She leaned over and whispered seductively into Mr Tan’s ear. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Mr Tan’s cock stiffened again, pushing against Rachel’s ass. Rachel turned and smiled when she saw the hard cock.

“Rachel is a bad girl. Rachel did not do a good job. Please punish Rachel, Daddy. Stick your hard cock into Rachel. Make Rachel cry out in pain, Daddy.” Rachel cried.

She grabbed Mr Tan’s cock with one hand, stroking it to its full hardness. With the other hand, she pulled apart her red thongs, exposing her love hole. With one practiced movement, she guided Mr Tan’s cock into her cunt.

Mr Tan groaned in pleasure as his cock pushed swiftly into the tight, young vagina. As Rachel started to ride on Mr Tan’s cock, she removed her bikini top, offering her bare breasts to Mr Tan. He did not resist the offer, squeezing both breasts with his hands, licking and sucking each pink nipple in turn.

Rachel was also moaning in pleasure. Mr Tan had a thick cock so it was stretching and filling her cunt, sending orgasmic pleasure through her. She grind herself on his cock, moving forwards and upwards, increasing her pace as her pleasure intensified.

“Do you want to be my sugar daddy? Can you buy me whatever I want?” Rachel grunted softly into Mr Tan’s ear as she rode him. “Yes, be my daughter. I will buy you whatever you want.” Mr Tan panted, his shirt now drenched in his sweat.

Rachel hugged Mr Tan tightly. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” She wrapped her legs around Mr Tan, positioning herself at an angle so that Mr Tan’s cock could enter her even more deeply. She increased her pace, squeezing Mr Tan’s cock with her cunt as tightly as she could. Mr Tan could not hold back any more. With a grunt, he shot his second load into Rachel, hugging her as tightly as he could as his little soldiers charged into the tight chamber.

They held each other for a while until Mr Tan’s cock became soft and plopped out of Rachel’s cunt. Rachel gave Mr Tan a kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” She got up and sperm trickled down her legs. “I need to take a bath.”

“Follow me.” Mr Tan led Rachel into the common toilet. “Let’s take a bath together,” he suggested.

As Mr Tan showered Rachel, his hands roamed all over her body, caressing her smooth young skin and enjoying the touch of the contours of her tight, muscular body. His cock became hard again.

“Daddy, are you hard again?” Rachel asked innocently.

Mr Tan’s lust overcame him. He needed to fuck this girl again. “Come with me.” He pulled Rachel out of the toilet and into Charlene’s room. He took a towel and dried both of them hurriedly. Seeing one of Charlene’s large t-shirt on a chair, he took it and put it on Rachel. “Don’t catch a cold. Now lie face down on Charlene’s bed with your ass facing me.”

Rachel thought that perhaps Mr Tan was into SM. Was he going to spank her bottom?

“Is Rachel a bad girl? Don’t spank me, Daddy.” Rachel role-played as well as she could.

“You are now Charlene, not Rachel.” Mr Tan replied.

Rachel got it immediately. Mr Tan is living out an incest fantasy. She mimicked Charlene’s mannerism. “Daddy-O. I am such a naughty girl.”

Mr Tan’s cock hardened immediately when he heard the term “Daddy-O” used by Charlene. He hugged Rachel from behind, sniffing at Charlene’s scent from her t-shirt.

“Daddy-O. Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Rachel cried.

Mr Tan grabbed his cock with one hand and with the other parted Rachel’s cunt. Overcome with lust, he did not bother with foreplay but forced his cock into the tight hole in one swift stroke. He pumped Rachel furiously from behind, leaning forward to squeeze her breasts and taking in deep breaths of Charlene’s scent, all the while imagining that he was fucking his own daughter.

Rachel was swept up by Mr Tan’s animal lust and lost herself in her pleasure. She remembered her role though and occasionally moaned “Fuck me, Daddy-O!” for Mr Tan’s pleasure.

Mr Tan increased his pace and hugged Rachel even more tightly. Minutes later, he came a third time into Rachel. He turned Rachel’s head upwards for a kiss. “Don’t tell anyone and I will buy you whatever you want. When we are alone, your name is Charlene.” 

[riversofmars]

i wonder if you might do a story on river/13 going to a gay bar in space and they meet a bunch of previous companions/friends there too? (definitely jack for sure!) thanks

Okay first off, I love this prompt!! And it’s perfect for Pride month! I may, however, have taken some liberties and gone a bit bigger than a simple gay bar.... anyway :D I set out to write the gayest thing you’ll read all month... I hope I’ve succeeded! Happy Pride!

Invitation With A Kiss

“So what is this place, Doc?“ Graham asked as they made their way to the door of the TARDIS.

“Had an invitation!“ The Doctor retorted with a grin double-checking her psychic paper to make sure she had the right place and time.

“Who from?“ Yaz asked curiously.

“Ah, well, you know…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off but Yaz was quick enough to snatch the psychic paper from her fingers before she could try to hide it.

“Signed with a kiss?“ Yaz gaped and a wide grin spread across her features. Finally something to truly wind their friend up with and Ryan smirked as well:

“You sure you want us to tag along?“

“Oh, shut up, it’s not exactly a private party.“ The Doctor huffed trying to hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks. Quickly, she opened the door before any of her friends could comment and stepped outside.

“Oh wow, I don’t think I have words for this…“ Yaz started laughing as she joined the Doctor. They found themselves at the side of a most colourful parade. There were rainbows EVERYWHERE! Balloons, confetti, flags, people were dancing, hugging, kissing, having the time of their lives. “Please tell me this is…“

“Planet Pride.“ The Doctor grinned and put her hands on her hips as she took in the atmosphere. It was elating. There was a mild breeze that carried music and exotic smells, the sun was blazing down but not unpleasantly and the joy surrounding them was almost palpable. “Think of your 21st century Pride celebrations, multiply it by, I don’t know, a whole galaxy celebrating togetherness and inclusivity, and you get the greatest queer party this side of the universe.“ The Doctor turned to her friends who were still in awe.

“Isn’t this like… the future?“ Yaz finally found her voice and looked to the Doctor who was surprised to find concern in her eyes: “Is there a need for Pride still? Like I would have thought the issue would long be resolved and…“

“Oh it is, don’t worry!“ The Doctor grinned as she understood what she was getting at. “Doesn’t erase the past though. It’s part of the history of humankind… very sad, pointless, stupid part, but history nonetheless. Can’t and shouldn’t erase history, else you can’t learn from past mistakes… But let’s face it, Pride is brilliant. By this point it’s just an excuse to have one hell of a party.“ She pushed her hands into her pockets and they started walking down the street.

“This is brilliant.“ The Fam quickly found themselves accessorised by strangers, flower garlands and all sorts of amusing party hats were being passed out.

“Who’s the invite from, then?“ Ryan asked as they quickly caught up with the Doctor who was looking around the sea of people, clearly searching for someone.

“My wife.“ The Doctor answered knowing full well that there was no way she could keep it from them. She stopped and gnawed her bottom lip as she scanned the crowd. Where was she? Like she stood a chance of finding her amongst all these people…

“Your what now?“ Graham’s face fell and he nearly ran into her.

“Wife.“ The Doctor retorted matter-of-factly looking back to her friends. “We’re here to celebrate Pride, remember?“

“Yes but… you’re married?!“ Yaz exclaimed and carried on teasingly: “Who would agree to that?!“

“Well, we have always wondered that at one point or another…“ A voice sounded behind them and they all whirled around.

“Jack!“ The Fam exclaimed in unison as Captain Jack Harkness saluted with a grin.

“Hello, Doctor.“ He scooped the Doctor up in a tight hug who squeaked as the air was pushed from her lungs. “Fancy seeing you here! Are you ready for a party?“

“Hello Jack.“ She managed as she tried to extricate herself from his arms. “Bit too much to drink already?“ Jack ignored her comment and turned to the Fam, extending his arms.

“Ryan. Yaz. … Graham.“ He winked at Graham who blushed a little. Jack’s flirting was not lost on him or anyone else for that matter. “Missed me?“ He grinned. “Did you come here to see me?“

“While I knew you’d be here, no, not exactly.“ The Doctor retorted, trying to let him down gently.

“Well, that’s just as well.“ Jack huffed, trying not to look too offended. “I’m here with a Doctor of my own anyway. Though I seem to have lost him… and Donna just keeps trying to pass me drink after drink so…“

“You’re here with me? And Donna?“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock.

“There’s another version of you here?“ Yaz asked, utterly confused. The Doctor had told them plenty of times about how she had been a different person before and how Time Lords could regenerate their body, but they had never actually seen proof of it.

“And I don’t remember it… timelines crossing…“ The Doctor realised running her hands through her hair nervously. There was potential for disastrous chaos here.

“Doctor?“ A voice called and they all looked around. The girl that had called out wasn’t looking at them though, she was scanning the crowd and turned to another girl whose hand she was holding. “He must be here somewhere, that’s his TARDIS over there.“ They were searching for the Doctor too.

“Well, I’ve got a Doctor here if you’re looking for one!“ Jack called out without thinking. He didn't know the girls but the look on the Doctor’s face revealed that she did. She was simply too stunned to respond just yet. The girls looked at Jack who waved with a wide grin. “I think you mean to say: Her TARDIS. Times change!“

“Bill…“ The Doctor finally found her voice again as she stared at her long lost friend. There she was. Brilliant, beautiful Bill Potts. Cyberman no longer, holding on to her girlfriend’s hand and shock painted all over her face as the realisation hit her.

“Oh my GOD!“ Bill exclaimed, frozen to the spot.

“And Heather.“ The Doctor was beginning to grin now and hurried over.

“You have to be joking!“ Bill was still in shock, she shook her head to herself as the Doctor came to a halt in front of her with the Fam and Jack following close behind.

“Hello Bill!“ The Doctor smirked, amused by how her brain was reeling. “What? Not even a hug?“ She chuckled as Bill was finally pulled from her stupor.

“I really don't think I should hug you…“ Bill found her voice at last as she looked her up and down. “Cause you’re like… dead hot right now…“ She glanced at Heather who just laughed. “But also, you’re my weird space grandpa! So come here!“ She pulled the Doctor in a tight hug laughing.

“Fam, this is my friend Bill and her girlfriend Heather.“ The Doctor introduced them all.

“Lovely to meet you.“ Heather smiled. “I have a feeling you will be seeing quite a few familiar faces.“ She told the Doctor with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, it’ll get complicated when you run into yourself…“ Bill grinned, amused at the very prospect of it.

“He’s here, too?“ The Doctor’s face fell. Things were bound to get even more complicated with two of her former regenerations around!

“Well yeah, we were looking for him, lost him somewhere along the way…“ Bill explained. “Oh God…“

“What?“ The Doctor frowned, alarmed at the dread in her friend’s voice.

“Quickly, hide!“ She pulled the Doctor and Heather behind a make-shift beach bar that served all sorts of colourful cocktails. The other’s mirrored their actions. While they didn’t know what was going on, it seemed like the right course of action.

“Bill, what…“ The Doctor started to protest but forgot where she was going with it when her eyes fell on two very familiar people, making their way towards the bar.

“I really don’t know why you insisted on coming here.“ Missy gave a huff as they came within earshot.

“Why not? It’s fun.“ Clara retorted, amused at the displeasure on the Time Lady’s face.

“I don’t see what’s so exciting about drawing rainbows on your face and parading around the street.“ Missy rather stood out in her almost completely black outfit.

“Humour me.“ Clara retorted, who - in her colourful waitress uniform - looked the complete opposite. “I’ll make it worth your while.“ She looped her arm around Missy’s.

“You better.“ Missy pursed her lips, looking to the girl at her side, then continued to scan the crowd.

“If you didn’t want to come, why did you?“ Clara asked and scoffed as Missy paid her little attention and kept looking around: “You’re hoping the Doctor will be here, aren’t you. And here I was thinking you actually wanted to spend time with me.“

“Doctor, who are they?“ Yaz whispered to the Doctor, struggling to follow what was going on. Those two women clearly knew her and the Doctor seemed to know them too as all colour had drained from her face.

“Doctor, what do you want to do?“ Bill whispered to her but she didn’t respond, she was transfixed.

“Don’t get me wrong, Clara, dear, I enjoy a booty call as much as the next Time Lady.“ Missy smirked, looking back to Clara. “Particularly one where my sweet little plaything is intoxicated on sweet drinks and self righteousness but if I just happen to run into the Doctor and get the opportunity to kill him, that would be a two birds one stone kind of scenario. Particularly if I get to mortally embarrass him by putting you in a rather compromising position first.“ Missy ran her fingertips along Clara’s jaw, pushing her head up a little.

“Right, that’s it!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Clara!“ She called, marching out of their hiding place.

“Huh?“ Clara and Missy looked around confused, annoyed at the moment being so rudely interrupted.

“Oh God…“ Bill groaned and they all rushed after the Doctor.

“Sorry dear, this is a private conversation, pick a number and I’ll get to you in a sec.“ Missy gave a dismissive wave of her hand, refocusing her attention on Clara but the Doctor wouldn’t have it.

“Missy, get your hands off her right now!“ The Doctor threatened.

“Who’s this, Doctor?“ Yaz asked, hoping for an explanation.

“Doctor?“ Missy raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“Doctor?“ Clara echoed, surprised, excited and embarrassed in equal measures.

“What are you doing with her??“ The Doctor demanded to know off Clara as she wildly gestured at her nemesis.

“My my my, isn’t this some sight. Finally had the upgrade as well?“ Missy ignored the comment as she regarded her childhood friend’s new body. She snaked her arm around Clara and pulled her close to her side.

“Missy!“ The Doctor growled. “Get away from her!“

“Why?“ Missy feigned innocence and hurt. “She asked me here? She wants me here. You could even say she wants me .“ She gave a triumphant smirk and the Doctor flushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger.

“Clara, is that…“

“Uhhh…“ Clara blushed even more deeply than the Doctor herself.

“Does anyone else feel like they're slightly out of the loop?“ Ryan piped up, trying to make sense of the situation in front of them. For whatever reason, the Doctor was interrupting what looked like a perfectly consensual, happy date…

“This is the Master.“ The Doctor spat angrily. “Earlier version… don’t let the lipstick fool you, just as deadly.“

“Lipstick makes for a wonderful weapon, particularly in the right hands. Just ask your lovely wife.“ Missy retorted with a smile. “Where is she, by the way? You’re not here single , are you?“ She tightened the grip on Clara for emphasis.

“Missy!“ Clara slapped the Time Lady’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re all here to have some fun, can’t we just do that.“

“I can have fun with you anywhere I like.“ Missy smirked, moving her hand lower to the hem of her skirt, just enough to make the Doctor nearly lose it. “Fine. Alright.“ She let go of her. “Be a good little puppy now and fetch me a drink then.“ She smirked at the Doctor who balled her hands to tight fits, looking like she was about to burst. Missy laying her hands on one of her friends like that was just too much.

“Anyone else for a cocktail?“ Clara turned back to the group, hoping to move to conversation along to where she wouldn’t be mortally embarrassed in front of her best friend.

“I’ll help you carry.“ Heather volunteered quickly following Clara to the bar.

“So the Master used to be a woman?“ Graham exclaimed at last, when the situation seemed to have defused a little.

“Spoilers.“ Missy tutted at him.

“This is going to get very complicated with everyone here.“ The Doctor had to agree. “You can’t reveal anything about anyone’s future or we could be ripping space and time apart.“

“Yes, this is quite the explosive combination.“ Missy had to concede as she regarded the Doctor’s entourage. “Which begs the question, Doctor, what brings you here? Other than the rainbow candy floss?“

“River invited me.“ The Doctor shot back, almost too quickly, as if to make the point that Missy didn’t have one over in her.

“Well, she’s here somewhere…“ Missy smirked, delighting in the fact that she knew something the Doctor didn’t. “Busy though, really busy…“

“Busy?“ The Doctor frowned. She didn’t like the way Missy was saying that but she couldn’t help her hearts somersaulting just a little bit at the confirmation that her wife was here somewhere. She would get to see her again. It had been such a long time.

“Your bride dances at numerous weddings, as usual.“ Missy hummed just as Clara and Heather returned with colourful cocktails. “Thank you dear.“ She took a bright red drink that was unsettlingly reminiscent of blood and took the opportunity to press a firm kiss to Clara’s lips. “Oh I should start doing this to all your companions, the look on your face!“ Missy laughed at the Doctor’s expression. She looked like she was about to throw a punch. “Or, you know, your wife… now that would be fun.“

“Watch it!“ The Doctor growled threateningly.

“Wherever is Professor Song?“ Missy hummed in a sing-song voice and sip her drink in delight.  

“Clara!“ Everyone looked around as two female voices chanted in unison.

“Oh hello!“ Clara recognised Vastra and Jenny immediately as they were heading straight towards them.

“More old friends?“ Ryan asked and the Doctor’s face brightened. It was hard to worry about the timeline when it was so nice to see so many of her friends.

“Vastra! Jenny!“ She grinned at them in greeting and while Jenny frowned, confused, her wife’s superior senses helped her recognise her immediately.

“Doctor!“ The lizard woman looked at her in shock. “Now that makes a change.“ She looked her up and down, surprised, but not unpleasantly. Jenny must have noticed the look on her face as she gave Vastra’s arm a playful slap.

“Oi! Married!“ She reminded her. “Hello Doctor.“ She carried on cheerfully and gave a wave to everyone else, who, with the exception of Clara, they didn’t know yet.

“It’s getting rather crowded, isn’t it.“ Missy pursed her lips shooting Clara a glance with the intention of getting out of there soon but her companion was more concerned with meeting the Doctor’s other friends, past and present. “Oi!“ She shot Jack a glare who was just putting his arm around Clara all too familiarly.

“Sorry, dear.“ Vastra gave her wife an appeasing smile and turned back to the Doctor. “We didn’t expect to see you, Doctor. At least not like this.“

“Don’t tell me.“ The Doctor groaned, sensing where this was going.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt, we just thought, when we saw Miss Oswald, perhaps she’d know where the Doctor was, a younger one, that is. Suspenders too, but bow tie…“ Vastra explained apologetically. They had lost the Doctor they had arrived with quite a while ago.

“Is that who you’re here with?“ The Doctor asked, wincing at the prospect of yet another version of hers running around this place.

“Following an invitation from your wife, as I understand it. He didn’t want to go alone.“ Jenny added.

“Where is he now?“ The Doctor asked, sensing where all this was going.

“That is a very good question.“ Vastra agreed and they all looked around, everyone scanning the crowd for their particular Doctors.

“I already have a very bad feeling about this…“ The Doctor sighed.

“Are you sure you want to find your wife?“ Missy snickered, highly amused.

“I would if I knew how.“ The Doctor huffed, as a cheerful voice carried over from the other side of the cocktail bar:

“That River Song really is something, isn’t she.“ Everyone looked around and saw a blonde pulling herself onto a bar stool, setting down a nearly empty glass.

“Don’t say it like that.“ A second woman, brunette with shoulder length hair, huffed as she climbed onto a stool beside her. The Doctor looked around to her friends, none of whom recognised the two women, with the exception of herself and Missy who pursed her lips with intrigue. Now there were two people she hadn't seen in quite some time.

“Like what?“ Helen laughed, twirling the straw of her drink between her fingers.

“Like you admire the woman…“ Liv answered, clearly not enjoying the conversation.

“You’re just jealous.“ Helen retorted playfully.

“Jealous? Of what? Don’t be ridiculous.“ Liv shot back a little too quickly.

“Then stop sulking!“ Helen grinned. “The Doctor is having fun, leave him to it. And let’s have some fun too! These cocktails are really good…“ She waved at the bar keep for another.

“And really strong, you sure you want another one.“ Liv couldn’t help but point out.

“Most definitely.“ Helen nodded full of enthusiasm and nearly fell off her stool. Perhaps she had had a little bit too much after all. Liv was quick to hold her up. “Thank you Liv, you’re the best you know that?“ Helen smiled happily and reached out to stroke her friend’s cheek.

“I try.“ Liv replied, blushing at the gesture and her friend pulled her forward into a tight hug.

“No really, you are…“ Helen held her tightly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and Liv didn’t know what to do with her hands. She nearly fell off her stool herself but she didn’t want to pull back either, so she wrapped her arms around Helen’s shoulders, glad she wouldn’t be able to see her blush. Helen was completely oblivious to her discomfort, she just carried on mumbling: “You’re so kind and clever and brave and… so pretty…“

“I think you’ve had enough to drink…“ Liv pulled away, momentarily worried for her friend’s state but Helen wouldn’t let her go. Instead she grabbed Liv’s head and kissed her.

“I had money on that, you know.“ Missy smirked as the Doctor just watched, delighted and confused in equal measures. How had she never picked up on this when they were travelling together?

“Oh God…“ Helen pulled away when she realised what she was doing. But only after thoroughly snogging her best friend’s face off. She blushed deeply, her intoxication seemingly gone in an instant as sobering reality hit her. Liv blinked overwhelmed still, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. “Sorry, I was just… getting carried away and…“ Helen stammered, letting go of her but this time it was Liv that wouldn’t let go.

“You can do it again… you know in the spirit of… or just because you want to…“ Liv bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I don’t know why I did that…“ Helen carried on stuttering until Liv’s words sunk in: “What?“

“Oh Helen… my beautiful, clueless friend…“ Liv shook her head and laughed.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing.“ Helen admitted, blushing scarlet.

“I do.“ Liv assured her more confidently and leaned in to kiss her again when Helen stopped her.

“Liv…“

“What?“ Liv’s heart sank, wondering if Helen had thought better of it but she realised her friend was stopped for another reason. She was looking past her and Liv noticed they had an audience.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.“ Missy gave a wave of her hand when she realised she had been spotted. Of course, she was the only one Helen Sinclair and Liv Chenka would recognise. “Wasn’t sure where we were, timelines and all!“

“You again!“ Helen exclaimed and Missy sighed. Why were the Doctor’s friends always so stuck up on the past? So what if she had kidnapped and nearly killed her?

“I was hoping we would bump into you again, now I can finally…“ Liv was about to go for Missy but the Doctor quickly intervened.

“No, no, no, none of that!“ She held Liv back and Missy chuckled.

“Come on, Doctor, if Miss Chenka wasn’t to play, that can be arranged.“ Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Missy! Timelines!“ The Doctor scolded. The time lines were already all messed up, without anyone losing their life before their time. Missy gave a shrug.

“Doctor?“ Liv echoed, looking at the blonde in front of her bewildered. She took a step back, accepting that maybe violence was not the right course of action right now.

“While I’m sure the Doctor is elated to see you two finally stopped doing that silly little I don’t know how she’s feeling about me - but what if she doesn’t like me - but she’s from the past - but she’s from the future - I can’t ruin our friendship dance of yours, she’d rather like to know where her wife is and you seem to know.“ Missy sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“The Doctor?“ Helen repeated incredulously.

“Wow…“ Was all Liv could manage staring at the blonde and Helen, gripped by a wave of jealousy, hit her arm:

“Liv!“

“Not to interrupt the happy reunion or whatever but I think your search is over, Doctor.“ Jack announced and everyone looked around to where he was pointing.

“She didn’t just invite you, did she…“ Missy chuckled as they watched River push through the crowd accompanied by no less than thirteen Doctors, all of them competing for her attention and affection.

“She invited all of us, didn’t she…“ The Doctor sighed, realising that the same message she had received would have popped up on every other Doctor’s psychic paper as well.

“Go on then, Doctor.“ Jack put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her along. “Because if you don’t go over there, I might.“ He smirked. “Professor Song!“ He called before the Doctor could protest. River looked over to them, grinning, as she recognised Jack.

“Captain.“ She smirked flirtily as she sauntered over, while the other Doctors shot Jack annoyed glances.

“Think this is who you were looking for.“ Jack gave the Doctor a shove forward and decided that for once, he should be the wing man instead of going for the prize himself.

“Hello River.“ The Doctor managed a half smile and her feelings were incredibly conflicting. She was thrilled to see her wife; who looked beautiful in a flowing dress with the sun dancing in her curls. She was jealous that the other Doctor’s got there before her. And most importantly, she was annoyed: How could she have been so irresponsible?! All of space and time could rip apart if they put a foot wrong!

“My my my, now that makes a change.“ River smirked as she only took a moment to realise who she was. She stepped closer, looking her up and down far more obviously would have been necessary. The Doctor blushed and decided to go on the offensive to get herself out of the awkward situation:

“You know you will have to make them forget!“ She pointed to all her other selves. “This could end so badly!“

“Timelines will do that. Relax, Sweetie. None of you will remember a thing after crossing your own time stream. I can’t believe I’ve had to have this conversation fourteen times.“ River sighed but the expression on her face indicated that she had no problem repeating herself with her spouses. “Now, less sulking, how about a kiss for your old wife, hm?“ She smirked, grabbed the Doctor by the collar of her coat. She pulled her in for a kiss that quickly muted any sort of protest.

Just then, a confetti cannon went off, dousing the group in a rainbow of colours.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.“ Missy grinned as the Doctor’s friends shot her accusing glances and she hid her sonic umbrella behind her back. “Anyway, I wonder if there are more versions of me about…“

The Doctor didn’t even notice. She was too occupied kissing her wife to the chorus of jealous calls from several of her past selves. She had missed her so much .

[basicallywhiterice]

sk8er boi: lee jeno

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: fluff. friends to lovers, highschool!au, hockey player!jeno, promposal!au

summary: In which this sk8er boi is also a simp.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cussing, Jeno and y/n simp an unhealthy amount, too much awkwardness

a/n: yes, this was an excuse to watch 90’s love a gazillion times for hockey player!jeno. no, i don’t have the slightest clue how hockey works. if you catch the harry potter reference, i love you

“And… done! That’s the last one,” you declare, pushing a thumbtack into place on the corkboard. Jeno raises his hand for a high-five as you step back and admire your work. The last prom poster stares back at you from the center of the bulletin board, and you pat Jeno on the back for a job well done. All around you, posters plaster the walls and hallways that stretch out as far as the eye can see, and you cherish the last few moments of calm before the frenzy of prom season descends upon the school.

“Hey, we did a pretty nice job,” Jeno says. “You can’t even tell that my posters are crooked.”

He has an equally crooked grin when you glance at him from the corner of your eyes. Looking away, you smirk, reaching out and straightening a nearby poster. “Let’s hope nobody looks too hard.”

“Yeah. Anyways, we’re done here, right?”

“Yup. We just have to drop these off,” you gesture with your hands at the tape and thumbtacks you’re holding, pivoting on your heel and starting your trek to the office. Jeno follows. “And I think that’s it for this week. Now all I need is a date to prom.”

“What a coincidence, I need a date too,” muses Jeno, casually. A little too casually.

“So coincidental,” you respond, equally casual.

“Very much so.”

“Yeah, so…” you trail off, stopping once you round the corner into the main hallway. After half a year of bantering, lingering glances, and flirting-but-maybe-not-really-because-rejection-is-scary, you’ll be damned if you pass up this opportunity.

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows expectantly, and he blushes a little.

“Yeah. So. Uh, y/n, do you—”

At that moment, you hear Renjun shout in the distance, “Yo, Jeno, where are you going? You left your obnoxiously glittery poster. Is this an excuse to back out?”

“Renjun,” Jeno hisses over his shoulder, smacking his forehead with his palm.

“What?” Renjun asks, footsteps growing louder in tandem with his words as he presumably draws closer. “Aren’t you just being a coward? C’mon, man, you’ve gotta ask y/n—”

You suddenly find yourself face-to-face with Renjun after he whirls around the corner. “Oh.”

“Yuh,” you respond. “I would say an Ariana Grande lyric, but I can’t think of any right now. Hey.”

“Hey, y/n. Uh.” He shuffles backward, shoving a large poster behind his back. “I was just talking about the, uh, poster for Jeno’s biology project. Because he, uh, forgot it in class.” Renjun turns, elbowing a stoic Jeno. “He went all out with the glitter, too. Made an A. I’ll just leave it with him,” he says, shoving it into Jeno’s arms and speeding off.

You’re left with a flustered Jeno who can’t quite meet your eyes. “Jeno, were you—? Do you—do you have something to ask me?” You feel hyper-conscious of the heat rushing to your face and bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for his answer. As he comes up short with his words, drumming his fingers on the blank side of the posterboard facing you, you take a deep breath.

He exhales slowly. “Wangopromwime?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you want to go to prom with me?” He trains his piercing gaze on you, and for a moment, you forget how to speak.

“You—huh? You’re asking me? That’s so embarrassing lmfao.”

“Did you just say ‘lmfao’ out loud?”

“And what about it?”

“How—you’re deflecting,” he says, eyes narrowing. A second later, his expression deflates. “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you into giving me an answer. I’ll just, uh…” he trails off, sliding his thumb over the edge of his poster, hoisting the board up like a shield as he refuses to meet your eyes. “That’s fine. Um, I’ll just be going now, I think. See you later. Probably.”

He turns, eyes downcast, and your heartbeat thuds in your ears before you cry out, “Wait! I—”

And then you can’t help it. You giggle as Jeno stares, his slight frown slowly ebbing away. It’s so absurd, you think, how after all this time spent skirting around your feelings, it ends up being as simple as this.

“Jeno, you’re an idiot if you think I’d even consider saying no.”

Tentatively, he lowers his poster. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, that’s a yes.”

He grins and you mirror this action, a smile threatening to split your face open. “Awesome. Yeah, uh, I made a poster—with glitter, like Renjun said,” he notes, waving said poster around. “Do you want to see it? It’s not very good, but the glitter makes it like five times better, and—”

“Of course,” you say, cutting off his nervous rambling. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

He turns around the poster, revealing the phrase ‘it would be pucking awesome to score a date to prom with you’ written in loopy, glittery handwriting.

You go silent for a moment, trying to think of a joke to out-pun him, when he speaks again.

“Call me a hockey player the way I’m iced up.”

“Oh my god, don’t make me reconsider,” you groan. “You’re already a hockey player, though. Especially with the way you slid into my heart,” you grin, shooting finger guns at him. He rolls his eyes playfully. “You slide in hockey, right?”

“Technically?”

“Cool.” You take a deep breath as you take a step forward. “Move your poster, I’m gonna hug you.”

“Oh—okay.” He nods once, twice, before shifting the poster into his right hand, stretching out his arms, and letting you walk into his embrace. It’s quiet for a moment as you stand there, appreciating his warmth, before he mutters, “Oh, fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, looking up at him. Your breath momentarily catches in your throat when he glances down into your eyes.

“... I think I got some glitter on the back of your shirt.”

You burst out laughing, stepping back and twisting around to check. Sure enough, his poster rains glitter every time he moves, and you would conservatively estimate that a fifth of the poster’s glitter has ended up down your back.

“It’s fine. Adds some pizzaz to my outfit. Anyways, we should head back before the inevitable wave of promposals that are about to occur,” you say, bumping his shoulder with yours. He nudges your side as retaliation.

“Yeah, I have to leave because no one can outdo my amazing promposal. Gotta let them save face, y’know?”

Your witty remark dies on the tip of your tongue when he reaches down and encloses your hand in his. You lace your fingers with his intuitively, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and you have a strong hunch that both of you will be falling asleep with giddy smiles on your faces tonight.

And with his hand in yours, happiness in your heart, and an obscene amount of glitter on the back of your shirt, you imagine that this must be how hockey players feel gliding on the ice—or perhaps it’s just the effect Jeno has on you.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

The Crown Found in Rose Thorns (Part 2) - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Timothy Drake, bits of Steph, Jason and Dick Summary: Jonathan and Damian go on their first date. A/N: I just think about royal princes jon and damian a lot, mmkay. also, those flowers don’t ever wilt, Damian will find out. maybe it’ll be important later, if I remember that detail.

Ao3

~~

There was a giddy energy around the castle this morning. He felt it as he walked through the halls. The servants were all chattering amongst themselves, smiling in his direction whenever he passed by.

The prince has a date! They were all saying. The prince has chosen a suitor!

Damian could only roll his eyes. Hardly.

He found his hand had drifted to the hilt of the sword on his hip as he entered the courtyard. Perhaps he could challenge that infuriating Jonathan to a duel? It was only appropriate – he tried to mock Damian in front of his court.

But he ended up shaking his head. Knowing what little he did of this prince of Krypton, the simpleton might enjoy that.

As he neared the gates, he felt himself give an involuntary sigh. It must have been loud, as the one waiting there turned and grinned.

Almost as annoying as Jonathan of Krypton – his brother, Timothy.

“Don’t tell me you’re my chaperone for this…event.” Damian called.

Timothy kept his smirk. “Well, since you sound so enthused by the prospect, I can ask to be.”

“Don’t.” Damian scolded as he reached him. “I don’t need protection. Especially against the knight.”

“While I don’t doubt your skills, we don’t know that.” Timothy reminded. “He could be working for Ra’s.”

“He claimed to be the child of Father’s ally. Or did Richard not tell you that?” Damian hummed, staring out into the bustling streets. A small child waved towards them. He smiled and waved back. “Or do you just not believe him?”

“You do?” Timothy raised an eyebrow. “Prince Damian of Gotham, believing people at their word? Surely Father has taught you better than that.”

Damian felt heat in his face. “Of course I don’t. But I also know he doesn’t fit Grandfather’s brand of agent. He’d use someone we wouldn’t expect. A fortune teller or shop keep. An old cook or cleaning woman. A young, strong-looking knight who draws so much attention? Seems…implausible.”

“Strong-looking, hm? And here, Richard told me you only agreed to meet with him today as a barbaric game.” Timothy questioned mischievously. Damian pursed his lips and punched Timothy’s arm. “Ow! Hey!”

“Frankly I trust Sir Jonathan to not be an agent more than I trust the likes of…of Cassandra’s suitor.” Damian mumbled. “Why don’t you spend more time investigating that bard woman? How can you be so sure she’s not an agent? That’s exactly the type of person Grandfather would use. No direct ties to me, and could harm someone else in our family in the process. Exactly what Ra’s al Ghul would want.”

“Stephanie has been vetted. She was vetted long before she and Cassandra were romantically involved.” Timothy explained. He laughed then. “Speaking of her – back to your original question. No, I am not your chaperone today. I’m here waiting for Stephanie.”

“Why?” Damian demanded. “Does Cassandra know?”

“Yes, she does. She’ll be joining us.” Timothy nodded. “Stephanie is a bard, like you said. So she hears the stories. She knows things.” He looked towards Damian. “We’re hoping she knows things about the Kingdom of Krypton and a certain prince.”

Damian crossed his arms. “So…who is my chaperone, then? Surely there is one.”

“Not directly. You and Jonathan will still be alone in general. He’ll just follow in the distance.” Timothy shrugged. “And it’s Jason, I believe.”

Jason, the raunchy brother. He had almost as little manners as Jonathan himself. Always yelling and cussing. No filter, no politeness. A rough man who drank too much.

He’d almost prefer Timothy.

“And I believe Richard will be joining him later in the day, or switching. But I cannot remember.” Timothy suddenly stepped forward. Damian looked into the crowd and saw a blonde woman in a purple travelling cloak gliding towards them. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

The woman came forward, and bowed when she was close enough. Damian gave her a head nod in return as Timothy turned to guide her into the courtyard. They were halfway to the castle when Timothy turned back.

“And Damian, don’t forget!” He called. “If Sir Jonathan does anything untoward,” He pulled his own blade out of its sheath halfway. “You stab to kill.”

Stephanie laughed. Damian grinned in response, and turned towards the town, making his way towards the forest.

~~

He caught sight of Jason a few times on his walk. Riding his gray horse lazily fifty or so yards away. The one time, Jason saw him watching, and gave him a cheeky wink.

Damian had scowled and tried to walk faster, almost hoping to get lost in the crowd. Just because he had to have a chaperone, didn’t mean he couldn’t make the job worth their while.

As he entered the clearing on the edge of the forest – the agreed meeting place – he slowed. Jonathan was already there.

He wasn’t in his armor today, but rather a simple tunic and pants, similar to Damian’s own outfit, just minus the tied vest. He was sitting on a fallen log, fiddling with the flowers popping up around his boots.

Damian did not see a weapon on him.

Along with the change of outfit, his demeanor seemed different from the day before as well. His face was no longer sharp confidence and sunny mischievousness. Now, his eyes were half-lidded as he relaxed, face thoughtful as his head tilted and he examined the flowers.

Damian ignored the sudden feeling in his chest. Because it wasn’t annoyance or haughtiness or even suspiciousness like he expected.

Without warning, a bird swooped down from overhead, cawing as it brushed along Damian’s hair. The noise made Jonathan look up, and once he recognized Damian, he smiled.

“…She sure seems to like you.” Jonathan laughed as he stood. “Hello, Your Highness.”

“Hello.” Damian mumbled, holding his arm out. The bird fluttered down to land on his elbow. “Waiting long?”

“No, not long.” Jonathan scratched awkwardly at his hair. “…I tend to arrive places early when I’m nervous.”

Damian snorted. “You? Nervous? Your showing yesterday implied you didn’t know the meaning of the word.”

Jonathan let out a gentle laugh. “Well…I had to get your attention somehow.” When Damian glanced up at him, he found himself unable to hold the gaze, so looked to the bird. “Is she yours?”

“No, she’s wild.” Damian assured, even as he pet gently at the bird’s head. “I…spend a lot of time out here. Feed them on occasion.” He looked towards the bird and smiled. “She must remember me.”

“Well, you are hard to forget.” Jonathan mumbled. Damian had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear it, so didn’t push the issue…yet. Instead, he let Jonathan admire the bird for a moment, then shook his elbow and pushed the bird back into the sky. She flew off with another caw. “…Lead the way?”

Damian nodded and moved down the path. Jonathan stayed behind him for a few moments, before jogging to catch up.

“I…um.” He let out a small cough. “I don’t mean to alarm you.”

Damian glanced at him.

“There’s a man on a horse following us.” Jonathan whispered. “…Would you like me to deal with him?”

Damian stopped walking and turned. In the expanse of trees, he could see the shadow of Jason, chaperoning as promised.

Damian smirked.

“I should.” He called loudly. “I should absolutely let you dispatch of our stalker.” He heard Jason’s horse snort as Jason turned her away.

Jonathan glanced between him and the trees. “I…think I am missing something.”

Damian laughed. “My family is overprotective.” He explained. “With this…situation with my grandfather, they are chaperoning my every movement, including with potential suitors. That’s merely my brother, Jason.”

Jonathan hummed. “I’d heard about that.” He sighed. “I’m…sorry.”

Damian shrugged. “My grandfather has always been ruthless. Apparently tried to kill my father when he and mother agreed to marry. Why anyone is surprised he’s come after me is beyond me.”

Jonathan didn’t respond. They walked in silence for a few moments. Damian’s bird friend let out another cry as she flew above them once more.

“That was why you came, though, isn’t it? For all that glory?” Damian asked. “You know, to be the one to succeed in protecting the youngest prince of Gotham?”

“No.” Jonathan said simply. “I came for you.” When Damian looked at him, he was uncupping his hands, revealing a small flower. He twisted the stem into his fingers and held it out. “Just for you.”

Damian stared between the flower and Jon’s face, then back again.

“…You weren’t holding that before.” Damian whispered. He looked up again. “I know you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Jonathan smiled and held the flower out. Damian took it without thinking, cataloguing that the mischievousness was back in Jonathan’s brilliant purple eyes.

Curious.

“I will admit, though, that hearing about your mother’s call for a suitor did spur my action.” Jonathan admitted wistfully. “Gave me a reason to return to Gotham and try my luck.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Many times. My family travelled often when I was younger. We were in and out of kingdoms all the time.” Jonathan chuckled. “How my father met and befriended your father, I still don’t know. It’s a story he won’t tell.”

“Old men love their secrets.” Damian agreed. He stared down at the flower as they walked, stroked at its pink petals.

Those feelings Damian expected, the pride and suspicion, they weren’t manifesting. In fact, he was finding that it was…surprisingly nice, walking with Sir Jonathan. It didn’t feel awkward or forced. Their conversation was flowing naturally. There was no hint of the bordering animosity from yesterday, or the challenge. And, loathe as he was to admit it, even just to himself, he was easy on the eyes.

He still couldn’t trust him, though. Couldn’t stop assuming there was going to be another shoe to drop. A catch to this seemingly simple situation.

“So…” Damian sighed after a few minutes of silence. “I am to believe you are sincere, then?”

“Hm?”

“You aren’t here for the glory of protecting the prince?” Damian repeated, putting the flower behind his ear so he could clasp his hands behind his back. Jonathan shook his head. “Or for the riches that come with joining a highly respected royal family?” Jonathan smirked and shook his head. “You are here for love and all it entails, truly?”

“Yes.” Jonathan said easily. “At least I hope so.” He looked up into the sky, watching the clouds between the reaching tree branches. “I believe love could happen, but I also know that’s no guarantee. I mean,” Another laugh, this one nervous. “I know you’re not happy with me so far, but I will admit I am fond of you already. But I know that could change.”

He gave out a dreamy sigh.

“I could end up hating you.” He mumbled. “Or I could end up so deeply in love with you I don’t know what I’d do.”

Damian stared at him, specifically at his sparkling purple eyes. “…The former is more likely.”

Jonathan blinked and the sparkle disappeared from his eye as he looked back at Damian. He gave another smile, but it was sadder. “Surely you think better of yourself than that, Your Highness.”

Damian shrugged. “It…has happened before. An occurrence I’m used to. Friends, family…look at my grandfather, after all. Why do you think my mother feels the need to beg for someone to love me?”

“Well then, I will just have to hope to fall even deeper in love with you myself, then. Show them all what they are missing.” Jonathan decided.

But the answer made Damian stop. Jonathan took a few steps further before stopping and turning back himself. Damian watched as he glanced over Damian’s shoulder, no doubt at Jason’s lurking form. “Why?”

Jonathan looked back. “Why what?”

“Why are you so keen?” Damian demanded. “You know nothing about me.”

Jonathan blinked, and that shine in his eye was back. “Of course I do.” Jonathan said simply. “I know a lot about you.”

“How?” Damian asked. “Your father?”

“No. By our own interactions.” Jonathan shook his head. “You don’t remember, and that’s fine. It’s not important, really. Maybe one day you will.”

“When did we interact?” Damian snapped. “When did we meet?”

“As children.” Now Jonathan frowned, glanced at the ground. “But if you don’t mind, I don’t wish to talk about that now. That’s not what today is about.”

Damian crossed his arms. “What is today about then, if not to get to know each other?”

“Get to know each other, yes!” Jonathan agreed. “But as we are now, not as we were.” He took a step towards Damian. “Maybe another day, when you trust me more?”

He almost sounded like he was pleading, and Damian couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. “Who says I ever will?”

Jonathan laughed again, bowing his head in admittance.

“Like I said, who knows how this will turn out. I’m hopeful, but have been wrong before.” He smiled. “But that is neither here nor there, and I won’t bring it up again. The future doesn’t matter, only today does. So let’s get back to it, shall we?”

Damian pursed his lips in thought, vaguely sensed the flower tucked behind his ear.

“Fine. Let’s.” Damian nodded, stepping off. Jonathan’s face lit up as Damian returned to his side and they continued their quiet stroll through the woods.

Jonathan kept his promise, he kept his romantics to himself the rest of the day. Instead, they talked about typical things. Not love and coups and kingdoms, but food, books, battles. Jonathan, it turned out, enjoyed cooking. He spent much of his time in Krypton attempting to recreate the recipes he was taught when they travelled to share with his court. He also loved competing, and learning a skill when it bested him.

Damian asked about the bloody armor he had from the day before. Jonathan admitted is was from an attack on Krypton right after his father had retaken the throne. He didn’t like war, or the constant fighting around the lands, but recognized the need to take part when he had to, especially when it came to protecting the innocent.

Jonathan asked about his own skills, especially by being the son of the notorious Talia al Ghul. Damian explained that was what was so silly about this suitor business – he could protect himself. Always has been able to. Just like his siblings.

He then talked about his family. How his siblings were all adopted, but it’s not like you could tell, since they all looked so alike anyway. Richard was adopted by his father, Jason by his mother, and Timothy and Cassandra after the two were married. Damian had been an accident.

Their rendezvous was supposed to finish by midday, but they were so distracted by their winding conversation that they did another two laps around the forest path, before making their way back into town in the late afternoon. Absently, Damian noticed when Richard joined Jason, but otherwise continued to ignore them.

He could also see the townsfolk all whispering already. Gleefully talking about how handsome Jonathan was, how close the two were walking. He even heard a few talk about how warm his own smile was, and how relaxed he looked.

He ignored them too.

As the sun went down over the hills in the west, he found them nearing one of the castle’s gates and decided to end their meet for the day.

“Shall we see each other again?” Jonathan asked after Damian said so. “Have I proven myself to be worth even a second of your time?”

Damian let himself have a small smile as he crossed the gate threshold and turned back. “I suppose we can. How long are you staying in town?”

Jonathan shrugged. “As long as I need. Unless I get a letter from Krypton or something, I have nothing urgent to return to presently.”

“Alright. Where are you staying, then?”

“The tavern a few streets away.”

“Okay.” Damian smirked. While the day had been pleasant, and Jonathan an interesting companion, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to have his fun. “I’ll come find you when I wish to see you again.”

Jonathan gaped for a moment. “And when might that be?!”

Damian just kept his grin. “Whenever I feel like it. So, if you’re actually serious about this. I suppose…well, don’t leave town.”

Jonathan stared for a moment more, then let out a bark of a laugh. “You’re cruel, Your Highness.”

“So I’ve been told.” Damian agreed cheekily. He turned to walk away, but:

“Damian.”

He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. Jonathan was still there, looking down at his hands as he clasped them together.

“I…would like to apologize, for yesterday.” Jonathan muttered. “I didn’t mean to potentially embarrass you in front of your court. I only wanted to get your attention, by any means necessary, which was selfish of me.” He bowed his head. “That…is not me. Not really. Today, though, that was me. I promise.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Damian countered. Jonathan looked up, confused. “You never explained how you made the flower, how you know me, or why your eyes sparkle – and yes, I noticed that. You’re still hiding something of yourself.”

Jonathan lowered his head once more.

“But we all have secrets, I suppose. Masks we wear on occasion.” Damian relaxed his shoulders, and touched at the flower still behind his ear, still as fresh as the moment Jonathan gave it to him that morning. “So…all is forgiven, Sir Jonathan.”

Jonathan perked at his words. After a moment of silence, he stepped forward again.

“Damian?” He asked softly. Damian hummed in response. Without warning, Jonathan took hold of Damian’s hand and leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He lingered there for a moment, breath brushing Damian’s skin as he whispered, “Thank you for a lovely day.”

As quickly as he approached, he retreated, backing up until he was almost in the street.

“Until next time, Your Highness!” He called as he raised his hand. And in a flash, he was instantly lost to the evening crowd.

Damian was left blinking owlishly at the gate threshold. As he heard Richard and Jason approach on their horses behind him, obviously coming into the courtyard from another entrance, he looked down at his hand, the one Jonathan had held.

A purple rose sat against his fingers.

He looked back into the crowd, looking for even a glimpse of that black hair and violet eyes. There was nothing.

He swallowed thickly. This was supposed to be a game. Damian wanted it to be a game. He wanted to break Jonathan down and send him back to Krypton weeping.

He’d wanted that.

Now…so quickly…he wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t so sure what he wanted. Wasn’t so sure if it was a game. And if it still was, who was winning.

“…Until next time.”

[mrs-hollandstan]

could a write a mob tom with a plus size reader who’s a virgin and is self conscious of her body. and with a ddlg kink too? thank you xxx

I hope I did the ddlg kink justice. I am uninformed lol. NSFW below

[[MORE]]

You knew Tom thought you were stunning. He'd approached, unabashedly in one of his clubs and you'd been inseparable ever since. But the thing was… he was growing weary with no sex to keep him calm. He knew you were a virgin and he'd never push you, but what he couldn't understand is why you seemed so shy around him and the topic of sex. You were confident everywhere else (it seemed) but when it came to him touching you, you'd find a way to cower. He discovered though, that calling you baby girl brought something so primal out of you. He intended to use that. And the opportunity presented itself at one of his clubs, in his office, 

"Darling, c'mere." He demands, drawing your attention from the window looking down on the club. You strut over, setting your wine glass aside and leaning against the desk between his spread legs, "I noticed something and I'd like to… discuss it while we have some time alone together." You stare down at him, pinch in your eyebrows, 

"What do you mean?" You ask. He pats the desk before him, waiting until you lean against the wood to draw his crossed hands from his lips, 

"You know you're… delectable to me. I just," he reaches out, brushing your thick thighs apart to brush his fingertips over your panties. He smiles when you gasp, "I think about you a lot and how gorgeous you'd be laid out beneath me, writhing in pleasure." You clamp your thighs closed, Tom retreating just in time. He stands, towering over you from your laxed position with a cocky smirk, 

"Now sweet girl-" 

"I just… you've been with so many beautiful women and I-" 

"I hope that sentence is going to end with, 'I am so much better'. You do know that right. Why would I waste my time trying to keep you happy if I thought you were worse looking than any other woman I've been with." He diffuses, playing with your fingers with a cocked eyebrow. You sigh, 

"But it's not true. Those girls can pull off outfits I couldn't."

"Uhm, I'm sorry, but when you wore that green and red plaid dress thing with that cream colored turtleneck, didn't I excuse myself to go take a cold shower?" He poses. Staring up at him, you nod, 

"Yeah." He leans down to tuck hair behind your ear and catch your eye,

"So why are you constantly tearing yourself down? You're the most gorgeous girl on this planet. And I would love to show you how much you mean to me." He tells you, pressing his hands to your hips over the blue velvet dress you wear. His eyes are dark and the thrill of his office window being an easy place to be seen unless you're across his desk or on his leather couch forces so much lust to course through your veins. You swallow and stare at him a moment longer before nodding, 

"Yeah… okay." You tell him. He smiles and leans in to kiss you, 

"Good girl. Now… take everything off, and go kneel on the couch for daddy." He purrs. Your breath catches in your throat and he chuckles darkly, 

"Oh, you thought I didn't know? Yeah… your obsession with being called baby girl tells me all I need to know. But I'll be easy for your first time, promise." He purrs before he's moving from your body and towards the office door, flicking the lock on the red door as you stand before the couch, drawing the zipper down and letting your dress drop to the floor. Tom licks his lips as he watches, hands tucked in his pockets while you strip from the strapless bra and matching thong you chose tonight. He hums, shedding his jacket and starting to unbutton his shirt as you climb onto the couch on all fours, 

"You're so gorgeous." Tom murmurs as he drops his shirt to the floor, kicking his shoes off and shedding his socks before he works on his belt. You watch him, licking your lips when he presses his pants and boxers down, reaching into his desk for a condom, 

"You don't have to." You tell him. He meets your eyes, 

"I'm on birth control and… I wanna feel your cum on me daddy." You coo. You giggle when Tom's cock twitches. He abandons the condom and comes to kneel between your legs, stroking himself and pressing his tip to your entrance before he spits and presses himself into you. You gasp, head falling forward as he fills you, hands pressed over your bottom. He pauses, nestled deep inside of you, 

"So good baby. You okay?" You nod, chewing your bottom lip, 

"I'm not completely innocent. I've masturbated before so its… not as bad." You reassure. He hums before he's wrapping a hand in your hair, 

"You're a naughty little thing eh?" You nod, pressing your lips together,

"Yes daddy." He hums again before he gently moves, drawing another gasp from you. He grips your hip hard in one hand, your hair in the other. You moan and whimper, tipping your head back. He wraps your hair tighter, 

"You're my good girl huh?" He purrs. You nod, 

"Fuck… please, faster." You pant. Tom reaches beneath you to rub your clit, listening to you moan loudly before he places his foot on the couch beneath him and presses into you deeper and quicker. You cry out each time he presses his deepest, your body buzzing in pleasure, 

"C'mere baby." He poses, pulling out of you. You turn to look at him, swallowing and shaking your head when you stare at him, slouched on the couch, holding his cock up for you. He clicks his tongue, 

"Darling I've got you, come here." 

"No. I-I can't be on top."

"And why is that?" He poses, already knowing the answer. You cower away from him, 

"I don't… I don't want you to have to have my body in your face." You nearly whine and Tom clicks his tongue, moving toward you, 

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I wouldn't ask for your body in my face if I didn't want it. I want you and that's it. The same way you want my cum on you, I want you on top of me. I just wanna make you feel good, make you see how fucking perfect you are." He tells you. Younstare into his deep brown eyes, swallowing when he holds his hand out, 

"I'm not gonna be thinking how ugly you are while you ride me because its not true. Health isn't determined by what you weigh and any outfit you fill out is gorgeous on you." He reassures. You stare down at his hand again before taking it and gently moving over him. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, guiding himself back into you. You both groan before Tom presses his hands over the tops of your thighs and you move back against him. He hums once more, watching you find your groove in a few short moments. He stares up at you through his lashes as you bounce on top of him, hands rested back on his knees. He presses his hands over your breasts, sliding them down your sides and feeling the slopes and grooves of your tummy and hips. He leans up, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, heart stuttering in his chest at the way you hold the back of his head as he laps and sucks at the pebbles of both of your nipples. He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning back and pressing you chest to chest. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding the back of his neckas you press your cheek to his and he holds your bottom, 

"Shit. I'm so fucking close." 

"Me too." You moan. He presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly until you squeal and your back arches as you cum, breasts pushed into his face. He grunts, meeting each movement of your hips with a hard thrust. He maneuvers you until you're on your back before he draws out, stroking himself as he kisses your knee and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, spilling it across your belly in short spurts. He groans, stroking every last drop from himself before he collapses between your spread legs. You lay panting for a moment before glancing down at the mess that paints across your belly. He hums, finding a few tissues on the floor beside the couch to clean up with before he watches you rise and pick your dress up, shielding your body from him. He plays with the hem of the velvet for a moment before patting the cushion beside him, 

"C'mere baby. Sit with me for a minute." You move to sit beside him. He draws your clasped hands back to reveal you to him. He sighs, 

"I promise to prove to you that you're worth all of it. You're beautiful and I love all of your outfits. You always look stunning and I just… I just want you to know that your beauty is part of the reason I'm still here. You'd be surprised how many men look at you and talk about you behind these doors baby." He tells you, stroking his fingers through your hair. You stare down at him, 

"I just… don't feel like someone like you should be with someone like me. You should have a toothpick thin girl on your arm." 

"I've had my fun with those kinda girls. I love you and I'm not going anywhere for a girl like that. You're stunning and funny and perfect to me in every way. I love your stupid little pajamas you roll into bed in. You're it babe. And I really wish you'd quit hiding from me." He tells you. You sigh,

"I just don't want you disappointed and rethinking your life when your enemies realize what your girlfriend looks like."

"I don't give a fuck what all those assholes think. You're my girl and that's it. No if, ands, or buts about it." He dismisses, "I have my own flaws and I'm not letting them get the best of me. You're beautiful and that's it." He tells you, relaxing against his couch with your skin pressed to his. Moving forward, you lean against him, head pressed to the top of his shoulder, 

"I do love you. And I'm glad you were my first." 

"And I'll be your last. You really think I'm letting you go? You looked like a fucking goddess on top of me." Giggling you stand, pressing your feet through the hole of your dress. You slide it on, 

"I need to go downstairs and get something stronger than wine." You tell him. He hums and just as you reach for your thong, he snags it, tucking it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket which he holds in his lap. A fiesty twinkle sparkles in his eye as he gives a nonchalant shrug, 

"One, you can do it without panties, especially if I might want another round from you and two, I keep souvenirs baby. Now…" He stands and pulls his boxers and pants back on, "why don't you fetch daddy a neat whiskey on the rocks eh?" And the twinkle burns brighter, mischief adding to the effect and confirming you're in for a long night.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter X

The royal retinue reach the courtyard outside the Leville just as the ground beneath their feet began to shake. At the same time, Noctis grabs his head and winces. Images flash through his mind, but he couldn't make sense of them. Shaking his head, the pain and vision subside. Gladio, who was the closest to the prince, noticed his painful expression. "What's wrong?"

"My head just started throbbing," Noctis replied, hiding the details of the vision he witnessed.

"You all right?" Prompto asked worriedly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"A headache at the exact moment of an earthquake," (Y/n) hummed. "I would say it isn't a coincidence."

"Indeed," Ignis agreed.

"Doesn't matter. It's gone," Noctis said.

They enter the Leville and stand in the lobby to wait for Iris. Gladio crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently against the tiled floor. He wasn't sure what was taking his sister so long, but she descended the stairwell a few minutes later.

"Gladdy!" Iris chanted, hurrying down the stairs.

Said boy looked up and smiled at his sister. He was relieved to see she was uninjured and safe from the hell raised by the empire in Insomnia. Although he lost his father, at least he still had his little sister. "Iris."

The young Amicitia glances around at the faces of the boys. She had yet to spot (Y/n) due to being hidden behind Ignis' tall, lithe body. "Look at you guys, holding your own out there."

Prompto smiled with slightly red cheeks. "What can I say? You look good."

"All things considered," Iris exhaled heavily. "You guys are staying here, right?"

"That's the plan," Ignis said, taking a step to the side and revealing the girl hidden behind him.

Iris noticed the fifth member of the group and blinked in surprise. She searched her memory and tried to remember seeing someone as beautiful as her before, but she couldn't recall anyone. She hastily took a few steps towards her, signaling the beginning of a throng of questions. "Who's this? Is she a crownsguard? But that outfit is way too nice." Iris circles (Y/n), examining her appearance closely. Reaching the front, she saw the slitted eyes and gemstone. "Wait, you're a guardian! But I don't remember any of the guys except Ignis having one. Now that I think about, I don't see her here."

Gladio stopped his sister after seeing how uncomfortable (Y/n) was becoming. "Take a breather, Iris. You're freakin' the girl out."

Realizing what she was doing, she gasped and promptly apologized. "I-I'm so sorry. It's just...I've never met someone so beautiful before. If I had, I would definitely remember."

"Oh, um...thank you, Iris," (Y/n) shyly replied.

"Pretty sure you've met (Y/n) before, Iris," Noctis stated. "But you've never seen her human form until now."

"That name..." Iris' voice trailed off before her eyes widened. "You're really (Y/n)? That little bundle of white fur is you?"

She nodded. "Y-Yes."

"Oh, wow. This is... You look amazing!" She praised. "I never imagined you were this pretty. I mean, I imagined you to be a little more than average, but I am blown away!"

The guardian did her best to analyze her appearance. Without a mirror, it was difficult to examine her entire body. She glanced down at her dress before lifting her head. "I really don't see what's so special about me."

"You're kidding, right?" Prompto spoke up. "You didn't notice all those people staring at you when we first got here?"

"And not just here. Wherever we go, people stare at you," Noctis added. "Can't believe you haven't noticed."

That's when (Y/n) started to worry. "Am I drawing too much attention to us? If that's the case, I can always change forms and-"

Gladio held up his and silenced her. "Slow your roll, munchkin. We drive a super fancy car that already sticks out like a sore thumb anywhere we go. With you taggin' along, no one even looks twice at Noct."

Noctis glanced at his shield with a scowl. "Am I supposed to be offended by that?"

"Take it as you will, Highness." Gladio focuses his gaze back on his sister. "Putting all that aside, when you have time we have catching up to do."

Iris nodded. "Sure. I've got time now if you guys do. We can talk in my room." She leads the group of five up the stairs and into one of the many hotel rooms. As they got comfortable, they were joined by an old man and a young boy. Gladio easily recognized the two. "Jared and Talcott! Is it good to see you."

Talcott smiled sweetly as he addressed the member of royalty among them. "Prince Noctis! Iris is safe with me!" You could tell the young boy admired Noctis just by the gleam in his eyes.

Jared patted Talcott on the shoulder, smiling apologetically to the prince. "Please excuse my grandson. He has yet to learn his manners."

Noctis smirked. "I like it."

The older man lowered his head in a slight bow. "Your Highness is very kind, but we shan't impose. A very good night to you, Your Highness." Taking his grandson with him, he left the room so the group could talk. Iris closes the door behind them as they leave before taking a seat alongside the others.

Noctis was a little hesitant to ask, but he wanted to know some details of the invasion. "So Iris, what was it like inside the Crown City?"

Iris winced slightly as she remembered the day of the signing clearly. "Not pretty. The Citadel took a beating. But a lot of outlying neighborhoods made it through in one piece."

Ignis' eyes narrowed as he gazed at the carpet. "The empire had tactical targets in mind."

"If they incapacitated the Citadel from the inside, it would make it difficult for the crownsguard and Kingsglaive to deploy," (Y/n) said.

"Think they had a man on the inside?" Gladio wondered.

"A possibility we cannot dismiss," Ignis stated.

Iris glanced around at the dejected faces of the group. She clasped her hands together in her lap and focused her gaze on Noctis. "You know if there's anything else, you can ask me."

Noctis lifted his head, slightly taken aback. "Yeah, uh, thanks."

"So...about Lady Lunafreya. I keep hearing she was in town. Apparently she left right away, but at least it means she's okay."

The prince wasn't sure how to feel about Lunafreya. He wasn't sure if she was alive or dead and he was worried about her. However, Iris' words did provide a small amount of relief. "Good to hear. Thanks."

Iris then stands, brushing off her skirt. "Yeah, well, get a good night's rest." She then leaves the room.

Ignis stood up as well. "I shall procure rooms for us."

(Y/n) glances at him. "That was plural."

"I shall ensure you get your own personal room, (Y/n). It would be ill-suited for a lady to remain in a room with four men."

She watched him leave the room, blinking in surprise. She uncrossed her legs with a huff. A grin tugged at the corners of Gladio's lips. "You seem disappointed."

"No, just surprised. We had no issues sharing a room in Longwythe or Galdin Quay. What's changed?" She pondered.

"You think it has to do with the fact you spend more time in your human form than your spiritual one now?" Prompto asked.

"Or maybe Iggy wants you to have your own room so he can make a surprise visit to you in the middle of the night," the brute said.

She glowered at him. "Why do you think Iggy would have an ulterior motive?"

Gladio looked away, trying to act innocent. "No reason."

Her eyes scrunched up in an accusing manner. "You know something that I don't."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But it's not my place to tell. Hopefully us guys can snap some sense into his uptight ass and get him to tell you."

(Y/n) wanted to question him further, but held herself back as Ignis returned. She accepted the key he offered her and read the number attached to it before heading to her room. It was only a few doors down from Iris' room. She entered the room and looked around. There was a small couch, a coffee table, and a double bed with a nightstand beside it. It was decent, but she felt lonely. Why had Ignis suddenly wanted her to have her own room? Was it really because she's been spending more time in her human form like Prompto said or was there another possibility?

Her shoulders sank while trudging towards the bed. She sat down on the edge with a huff of frustration at her busy thoughts. She pushed them aside by remembering the intimate moment she shared with Ignis earlier that day. It was nice to be in his arms, a sensation she's enjoyed ever since he first hugged her when he was only five years old. As the years passed, the hugs became scarce in number due to his duties to the crown. He became more prim and proper, meaning casual hugs were deemed inappropriate. She had watched the boy grow into a man, his personality changing from sweet and caring to reserved and stoic.

Of course, he had his moments where he would show her how much he cared about her. Those were few and far between. However, that somewhat changed after they left the city. Even with Noctis as his first priority, his time with her had grown as if they had reverted back to their younger years. It brought a smile to her face, but it quickly vanished. She wanted to be his first priority. Was it a selfish thought? Perhaps.

Hanging her head, she hid her face behind a curtain of (h/c) tresses. She mentally scolded herself for thinking in such a manner. All she wanted was Ignis to love her with all his heart just as she wanted to do the same for him. But there was another thing stopping her-their roles. She was his guardian and he was her master. Was it appropriate for a human and spirit to be together?

That's when her eyes gleamed with hope as she recalled Jasper and Luca. They were clearly in love with each other and are engaged. She lifted her head and glanced out the window, coming to a decision-she would meet Luca tomorrow and discuss how he and Jasper overcame such obstacles or if it was only her self-doubt that prevented her from confessing her feelings.

(Y/n) was pulled from her thoughts when she heard a knock on her door. She went to answer it and saw Prompto was visiting her. Noticing he was alone, she wondered what he wanted. "Is there something I can do for you, Prompto?"

"You're gonna join us for dinner, right?" He asked.

Checking the time on the clock located on the nightstand, she saw it was a few minutes past five. "I didn't realize it was that late already."

Prompto grabbed her hand with a smile. "C'mon, the guys already left to make sure we get a table."

(Y/n) was taken aback at the sudden sensation of his hand on hers. "Prompto, your hand."

He looked down at their connected hands and blushed. He had unconsciously grabbed hers. "S-Sorry..."

She couldn't help but admire how kind and gentle he was. In order to smooth over the situation, she offered him a gentle smile. "It's fine. Let's go."

They left the Leville and headed to Surgate's Beanmine near the main thoroughfare. Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis were sitting at one of the tables and had already ordered for everyone. The eatery was packed and only a couple tables were left vacant. Sitting in between Noctis and Ignis, (Y/n) glances across the table when Gladio kicked her lightly in the foot. "Took your time, munchkin."

"I was thinking about a few things and didn't realize how late it was," she explained.

He took a brief glance at Ignis before looking back at her. "Like what?"

"Luca. I want to help him with his dream project. Spirits could use a good reputation. I also want to warn him about the empire."

"Y'know, all the people I've talked about guardians with adore them," Prompto said. "I can't believe people discriminate against your people, (Y/n)."

She crossed her legs, placing her hands gently in her lap. "I can't even imagine what it's like to be a masterless spirit in a society like this. It must be very difficult for them to live normal lives."

"Oh, yeah. Specs mentioned that rite of annulment," Noctis chimed in.

"I do hope I did not overstep my bounds," Ignis said, glancing toward the girl sitting beside him.

She shook her head. "Not at all. The rite of annulment has been used in both good and bad ways. Guardians have undergone the ritual to escape their abusive masters and humans have used it to get rid of their guardians. If the threat of corruption wasn't high, it's possible the rite wouldn't be so bad."

"What's this corruption you're talkin' about?" Gladio pried.

"Masters act as buffers for guardians when it comes to mana flow. If a guardian cannot control the flow, it builds up in their body and they soon lose themselves. Some spirits have massacred humans in such a state, but most of the time they commit suicide once it's too overbearing. A guardian's risk of corruption goes down if their master is still alive. But once that soul vanishes from Eos, the risk of corruption is extremely high. There are spirits who have learned to cope through the madness to keep their minds intact while others have never suffered from corruption."

"Okay, yeah, none of the books I've read mention any of this..." Prompto mumbled.

"Neither do the vast collections I've perused," Ignis said.

(Y/n) stared down at the table. "Not everything is written down in books or documents. If the rite was vastly known, I fear my people's reputation would be even more soiled."

"Let's just hope Luca doesn't know about it," Gladio stated. "And if he does, he'll leave it out of his book."

Their food arrived as their conversation ended. (Y/n) stared thoughtfully at her serving of bird-broth rice with curry before picking up her spoon to enjoy the meal. She listened to Noctis and Prompto as they exchanged playful banter while eating.

Once everyone was finished, they left the eatery and headed back to the Leville. As they passed through one of the alleyways, a disembodied voice reached (Y/n)'s ears. He body became stiff while listening to it.

Come...of Pneuma... Heed...call... Costlemark...altar...

A strange sensation overtook her body. Feeling a trance consume her mind, she no longer had control of her body. Listening to the voice, she wandered aimlessly down another alleyway and wound up separated from the boys. Unaware of her surroundings, she was heading straight for the road.

As she was about to step off the curb and into the street, the sound of a blaring horn bounced off the buildings, but it didn't snap her out of her trance. It was only when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her to safety before she was hit by a car that caused the trance to fade. The sensation of hands on her cheeks resulted in her to blink a few times. Her vision cleared and all she could see was a pair of familiar emerald eyes behind a pair of glasses. As the faint ringing in her ear ceased and she could hear the sounds of the bustling town, she realized Ignis was her savior and was trying to get her attention.

"(Y/n), can you hear me?" Ignis asked as her slitted pupils narrowed.

She looked around as best as she could and saw Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto standing behind him. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you'd clarify."

"Weren't we on our way back to the Leville?" She asked.

Prompto stepped forward. "You...don't remember what just happened?"

"No."

"You just suddenly walked off. We tried to get your attention, but you weren't listening. You wandered out into the middle of the street and was almost ran over by a car. Luckily Specs saved you before you were flattened," Noctis clarified. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." (Y/n) took a step back when Ignis removed his hands from her cheeks. All she could remember was hearing the voice and then they were standing by the side of the road. "Maybe I just need some more sleep."

"You looked like you were in some kinda trance," Prompto said.

Ignis examines her face and noticed she looked sickly. "You've become pale. Let us make haste back to the hotel."

"Need a piggyback ride, munchkin?" Gladio offered.

She shook her head. "No, I can walk."

Ignis placed an arm around her shoulders and escorted her back to the Leville. He took her to her room and asked her to sit down on the bed. When she did, he kneeled down in front of her and took her gloved hands in his own. "What truly happened tonight, (Y/n)?"

"I-I honestly don't know, Iggy," she answered sincerely. "I heard that voice again and then realized we were standing by the road. I did feel something come over my body, but I don't know what. I'm sorry..."

Ignis raised one of his hands and caressed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "You need not apologize, darling."

She was shocked at hearing the term of endearment, but welcomed it. "I just hope visiting Costlemark will resolve this and put an end to the voice."

He removed his hand from her face and gazed deeply into her sapphire eyes. He loved how they sparkled just like the gemstones in his necklace. It was like getting lost in the ocean. "Will you be all right by yourself tonight?"

"Yes. I'll probably turn in early after a shower."

"If you need me, you know where I'll be. Please, do not hesitate to call upon me."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you. Good night, Iggy."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[titaniasfics]

Wanda x Vision

“You make the hurt go away”

I’m dumping so hard for them rn

***

Oooh, anon, I’m dumping so hard for them, too!

I’m putting this ask together with another anon’s ask. I’ll link their ask to this drabble:

Jealous Vision, but make him clueless that he's jealous. Bonus if one or all of the Avengers notice.

Hope you enjoy it!

You Make The Hurt Go Away

Takes place between Age of Ultron and Civil War

“May I borrow Ms. Maximoff for a moment?” Lieutenant Colonel Donovan, a newly assigned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stationed at the compound, asks as he offers Wanda his hand. The disco mashup that had been pounding through the banquet hall shifts, turning into a ballad that Vision finds more pleasing. Tony’s fundraising galas always have the desired effect of ingratiating the Avengers to key government and military brass in the hopes of maintaining a certain image of competence and approachability. It helps when the inevitable takes place and they find themselves in a messy fight.

“I cannot presume to speak for Ms. Maximoff,” Vision answers Donovan. “Perhaps you should ask her directly.” Wanda makes a pretense of coughing to cover a laugh, something he has seen her do many times. It means he has done something to humor her and he derives a jolt of pleasure at making her laugh.

“Oh, erm, sorry. Ms. Maximoff, I was hoping to introduce you to members of my tactical unit. They are very enthusiastic about meeting you.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” She empties her flute of champagne and hands it to Vision. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“Naturally,” he says, setting the flute down on an empty table as she drifts away. Donovan leads her to the group of young men, all in uniform, all clearly eager to meet Wanda. Vision cannot hear their conversation but it is clear that Donovan is making introductions.

“That guy has had his eye on Wanda since day one,” Sam says, holding his own champagne flute. “

“Has he?” Vision asks.

“Yeah. He’s a real lady killer, that one. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to make his move on Wanda. She outdid herself with that dress tonight.”

“I believe we can partly thank Natasha for the success of Wanda’s outfit. It certainly required most of the afternoon to achieve the final result.”

“Success is a good way to describe it,” Sam responded between chuckles. Wanda was drawing more than a few glances with her aesthetically alluring, red off-the-shoulder evening gown that slinks over her figure, a revealing slit reaching up to her mid-thigh. Vision had been so impressed by her ensemble when she first revealed it at the compound that he had experienced a flash of physical discomfort that exploded along his neurons and landed at the base of his spine, wreaking havoc on his…male extremities. He had these reactions often when it came to Wanda lately and no amount of diagnostics or self-assessments had been able to detect the anomaly to explain the cause of his reactions.  

What if she was having the same effect on those young men?

His chest tightened and he put his hand over it, willing it to relax. “I am sure it is nothing more than fascination—“

He observes the tableau with this new information in place. Donovan’s hand, which is on Wanda’s elbow, slips to the small of her back, bringing him into closer proximity to her. The tightening in Vision’s chest becomes a surge of heat that races across his skin, landing on the tips of his fingers which twitch with an inexplicable urge to claw at something.

“Excuse me,” Vision says.

Sam smiles, pointing at the group. “That’s right. You better go get your girl.”

Vision almost argues that Wanda is most definitely not his girl, or anyone else’s, for that matter. She is her own woman and this insistence by humans to behave possessively toward each other is a never-ending source of confusion, but when Donovan’s snakes an arm around Wanda’s waist and, what’s more, she takes a small step as to evade the incursion, all logic disappears and Vision loses the thread of his thoughts.

“Right,” Vision steps through the small groups of people that converge on his path, as if placed there on purpose to create obstacles as he attempts to reach Wanda. When he arrives, Wanda looks up at him in surprise.

“Vision,” she says and he hears the relief in her voice. She takes another step away from Donovan, forcing him to drop his arm altogether.

“Wanda, I believe you promised me a dance?”

Her smile splits her face. “I believe I did.” She glances back at the men she’d been talking to, tossing an “Enjoy the rest of your night” over her shoulder as she walks away.

She tugs at Vision’s arm and he is prepared to stop somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, but she keeps them moving until they leave the hall and end up in an outside terrace, the music and lights spilling out into the dimly lit night.

“Thank you for that,” Wanda says, smoothing her hands over her dress. “That was creepy but I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“Sam mentioned Donovan might be interested in you. I would not have interfered but I sensed you were not comfortable with his attentions.”

Wanda’s face reflects confusion. “So if I had been interested in Donovan, you wouldn’t have stepped in?”

“No,” Vision answers. “You are free to choose the person you wish to spend time with.”

“But is that the only reason you interfered?” she prods.

Vision frowns. “I respect your right as an individual.”

Wanda steps up to Vision and, without warning, envelopes him in a hug. She has hugged him before, but it has always been for comfort or sympathy, nothing more. But this? The sensation of her body against his, her arms looped around his neck – it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

“You’re not answering the question,” she whispers, her warm breath caressing his cheek. “Tell me your truth, and I’ll tell you mine.”

Vision pulls back, looking at Wanda’s perfectly made-up face her professionally-styled hair, and sees beneath the artifice the woman he calls his friend because he does not know what else he is allowed to call her.

“No, it is not the only reason I interfered.” He feels exposed, like the tiny creatures that he has observed lying exposed to the sun along the sands on the beach.

“My turn, then,” she says, drawing up close to him. “There is only one person I am interested in and he is not out there, trying to add another notch to his belt. He is here, with me.” Vision shakes his head, a question poised on his tongue. “Before you ask, he’s you. I’m only interested in you.”

“Wanda,” he permits himself to caress her face, cradling her incredible softness in his palm. “You can have anyone you like. Someone like you. Flesh and blood, with real feelings, real humanity—“

“Don’t do that,” she says and her eyes flash as they do when her temper rises. “We are not arguing your humanity again.”

“But it bears repeating because there is so much you cannot have because of the way I am made—“

“And yet it’s everything I want.” Wanda steps closer, which he cannot imagine how much closer she can possibly get, but he is willing to let her try. “You’re my friend, you listen to me, you know what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling with just a look,” she is caressing his cheek in turn and Vision imagines he could sustain an entire existence from that sensation alone. “You make me laugh and you make all the hurt go away.”

“Wanda—“

“Accept this. I know you feel something for me, too.”

“I do,” he whispers. “I feel so much for you.”

“Then just try. Please? All I’m asking is that you try.”

“Ok, I'll try.” Vision nods, threading his fingers through her long, lustrous hair. “Is this the part where I get to kiss you?”

Wanda bursts into a long peal of laughter, the sound more harmonious and lovely than the music from the party. “Yes, Vision, this is the part where we get to kiss.”

“Oh, good.” He lowers his head, his lips brushing hers. He has watched enough sitcoms to understand the basic mechanics but there was nothing implied that compares to this. Her soft, warm lips molding themselves to his, the tip of her tongue tracing the seam of his mouth, sending shivers of electricity throughout his body. She’s leading him, teaching him what she likes and he is desperate to learn, returning each caress, each swipe, each moan measure for measure until her mouth gives way and he can taste her beneath the champagne and lipstick.

When they come apart, Wanda is breathless, her lipstick smudged, her eyes as bright as the fairy lights that decorate the garden. “Wow. Just wow.”

He blinks quickly, pulling her to him again. “I could not agree more.”

[lunarliza]

Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 4: Kook Conventions

JJ x Kook!reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter| chapter one

my masterlist

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

note: slight mention of panic attack

If there was anything you learned about JJ that Friday, it was that he was the absolute worse at sticking to the plan.

For one, he spent so much time looking for the tennis courts, instead of following your clearly written out instructions, that he ended up being late altogether to pick you up. What was supposed to be a grand gesture turned into you sitting on the front steps, while the sun was near done setting, waiting for stupid JJ while everyone else had already left.

“What the hell took you so long?!” you scolded, slamming the truck door shut in annoyance once he finally showed up.

“This place is confusing as hell! I kept having to make loops. It is called Figure Eight for a reason,” he tried to justify, pulling out of the lot.

“JJ I texted you specific instructions on how to get here!” you groused, rubbing your temple, “Anyways, it’s fine, whatever. Let’s just hurry home so I can get ready. My house is just a little bit up that way.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” JJ mentioned sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road, “I kinda have to help Pope and Poppa Heyward with something right now. It will only take an hour tops! I’ll just meet you at the party after I’m done.”

You groaned loudly, face-palming yourself. “JJ what the hell! I told you specifically to cancel your plans tonight. It was supposed to be our debut!”

“I did! I just,” he scratched the back of his neck, “kinda broke one of their carts this afternoon, so I have to help them fix it for tomorrow. I think they’re catering your little brunch thingy.”

“How did you even break the cart to begin with?!”

He hid his face from your dagger-eyes and admitted in a low voice, “I, uh, tried to surf on it down a hill when they weren’t looking.”

You had to fight the urge to smack him upside the head, but you didn’t want to risk him veering off the road. Lucky bastard.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “Just make sure you’re on time to the party.” You then eyed his outfit up and down. Even in the little sunlight that emitted from outside, you could tell it was all dirty from his day activities. “And please change into something a little nicer,” you added, “These Kooks would run you to the ground with that on.”

JJ dropped you off at your house and sped away as you unlocked the door into a near empty house. Looks like it would just be you and Alfred for dinner.

Your parents were headed off to the mainland for some business convention. Thankfully, your presence was not needed which saved you an entire day of pretending to be a perfect obedient daughter. It was an exhausting act.

Most teens your age would kill for a night alone, but after countless nights sleeping isolated in a big empty house, it got old and depressing. Most of the time, you’d sleep over at Sarah’s for some kind of company. You were always welcomed at the Camerons’.

Greeting Alfred your usual hello at the foyer, you darted upstairs to wash off and get ready with the little time you had left. The aroma of filet mignon and freshly seasoned veggies filled the house air.

“Oh and Alfred,” you called out over the intricate metal banister, “It’ll just be me eating tonight, so just set the table for one please.”

“Miss Y/n, your friend is not coming?” he asked with hints of concern. You just shook your head with a sad smile. “No, he had to run last minute.”

Alfred gave you a curt nod, making way back into the kitchen while you dashed into the bathroom.

—————————————————

Instead of throwing JJ straight into the shark’s tank (even though, given his already poor track record, you strongly contemplated throwing him to literal sharks), you decided it was best to ease him into the whole boyfriend role.

You figured he’d be more in touch with his aura if you invited him to a Kook party first— which was exactly where you were, furiously texting him where on earth he was.

It was already ten o’clock. The party started hours ago, and he was nowhere to be found. An hour with Pope your ass!

Flopping onto the giant living room couch in Billy Irvine’s mansion, you frowned amongst the throng of drunk privileged kids. Around you, the Glossy Posse was gossiping with other Kooks about some of the summer newcomers while sleazy guys from out of town tried to grab their attention. It never worked.

“So y/n,” Chloe asked next to you on the couch, “I have some great news! It’s no secret that you need a date to the all the fundraiser events, and I might just have one for you! My cousin, Gerald, is coming into town next week, so I can totally set you guys up!”

She proceeded to show you pictures on her phone of a lanky tall guy with discolored hair and a creepy smile. You resorted to taking a gulp of your drink to hide your horrified expression. “Thanks, but, uh, no thanks. I actually have a date already,” you informed, typing away heatedly at your phone for JJ to arrive that instant or so help you.

“Ooh, who is it?” Ivy nosily chimed in at the mention of you finally having a date. From the couch over, you also saw Anne-Marie and Warren lean their heads closer to get the scoop.

Jeez, were people really that interested in your love life?

“It’s-”

Before you could reveal the name, a loud ‘ding’ went off from your phone followed by a text from JJ to alert you that he was out front. “Oh! He’s actually here right now,” you announced, hopping up from your seat to collect your very problematic date.

“You’re late, again!” you scolded to the blond standing all gloomy at the front of the stone curved driveway. He changed into a nicer grey long-sleeve with khaki shorts and his signature red snapback, much to your relief. It didn’t quite match with your intricate white romper, but it would do for the time being.

“The guard wouldn’t let me in the gate! I ended up having to sneak through one of the fences,” JJ explained. You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous excuse. “Then why didn’t you just call me to let you in?” you pointed out.

“It was more fun this way,” he peskily grinned, earning himself a smack on the arm. The guy was impossible. “Ow!” he whined, rubbing the spot. Ignoring his complaints, you seized his hand and led him inside. It was about time!

The foyer flashed with various-colored LED lights while thundering rap music echoed from basically every corner of the house. All around, eyes gawked at you stepping through the Victorian-style entryway with a Pogue of all people. It was like walking into a cave of bats.

“Anyways,” you began, disregarding all the probing eyes, “This is Billy Irvine’s place. It’s the nicest house on the Eight. His parents are out of town right now, so we’re celebrating the Glossy Posse’s birthdays.”

It alway was a coincidence to you how all three of them had birthdays on back-to-back days. Witchcraft, honestly.

“Those bitches?” JJ grimaced at the mention of his sworn female enemies, “Ew why? They hate the Pogues.”

“Just shut up and suck it up. Here,” you grabbed a glass from the champagne tower in the middle of the spacious room, “Have a drink to get your mind off it.”

“Champagne? What the hell is this, England?” he yelped, taking a swig. Rolling your eyes, you hoped the alcohol would alleviate his irritability for the night. Fortunately, the blaring music was enough to drown out his constant bickering.

“Now put your arm around me! It’s time to make our rounds,” you demanded. He obliged and you turned on your best lovestruck game-face, giving him the grand tour of the mansion.

Billy’s mom was also one of the important people of the Island Club, so you had been going over there ever since you were nine being that your moms were friends. Still, you were always amazed by the extravagance of their house. You could tell JJ was also in shock of it all too.

It looked like a castle with two grand marble staircases circling the front with a tall vintage Tiffany chandelier hanging over everything. The floors were the shiniest white marble even with hundreds of teenagers recklessly dancing and slipping all over it.

“Damn, so this is how the other side lives,” JJ commented, marveling at how the LED lights reflected off the diamonds on the chandelier.

He slid his hand down to your waist as you stood closer to his side, taking a whiff of his teakwood cologne. Deep down, it was nice to have someone to attend parties with you, even if it was fake and with JJ.

You took him up the right staircase where plastered kids— some you recognized from school, some just in town for the summer— stumbled up and down the stairs or sloppily made out while pinned to the side walls. Realistically, it didn’t seem that off-brand to JJ’s party scene.

“We’re only staying an hour right?” JJ reminded in your ear as you approached the open bar upstairs. Yes, the Irvine’s had a literal bar in their second level.

“Yes, grumpy!”  

“Do you know if Sarah and John B are coming?” JJ continued to question. You settled on top of a retro bar stool as he leaned against the Irvine’s prized rustic bar.

“No,” you answered, “Sarah doesn’t come to these because Topper’s here. And she hates Kooks.”

“She’s the smarter one of you two!” JJ shouted among the loud music. You shook your head and whacked him again, but lightly this time. Seemed that would be you guy’s thing— hitting.

Even in their inebriated states, Kooks were still staring at you like you had grown a third arm. Which, honestly, was what being with JJ felt like half the time. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the Glossy Posse and Warren making their way to you with either wide or curious eyes.

Oh boy.

“Y/n!” they exclaimed, shoving through the crowd. You matched their seemingly gleeful expressions, though you knew deep down they were judging you hard.

“You must be y/n’s date,” Ivy stated without much of a formal introduction.

“Aren’t you that Pogue from the Boneyard that always tries to hit on us?” Chloe brought up once she got a better look at JJ’s face. You snorted, but no one heard you.

You were slightly worried JJ would take their snarky comments the wrong way and lash back, but his cocky grin still laid proudly on his face as he held his hand out to your girl friends. “Name’s JJ. And yeah, I’m y/n’s new man.”

New man. Well, that was certainly a title. All of the Glossy Posse’s threaded eyebrows shot up at the word.

“Y/n,” Anne-Marie said in amazement, “You didn’t tell us you were dating again.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to keep it kinda lowkey,” you lied, signaling JJ to put his arm around you again.

Expecting your friends to stick up their nose at him or give you guys condemnatory looks, you were surprised to find they were more stunned than snobby. Intrigued, you caught them eyeing JJ up and down as if he possessed some kind of magical charm.

From behind the group, you saw Warren trying to stick his hand out at JJ to introduce himself as the girls did kinda take center stage earlier, shielding him out. “Don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Warren, Warren Van Doren.”

JJ had to hold back a laugh at the sound of his rhyming name. So immature.

“Hey man, I’m JJ. Nice to meet you,” he greeted, shaking his hand, “Wait a sec, aren’t you that quarterback that got in that fight at regionals last year?”

Warren smiled sheepishly and looked away. “Yeah, that was me.”

You remembered that fight. The video of it actually went viral for like a week. Warren was a very nice guy, but pissed of, he was an animal. He pummeled the shit out of some of other players during that game. The topic of fighting seemed to bond the two boys as they unknowingly drifted away in their own conversation. Thank God, you were glad that at least one of the boys there would be friendly towards JJ.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Chloe announced, gesturing towards the stairway. All four of your heads turned to see Max and Anya parade up to the top step linked to one another.

That was the cue.

Furtively, you nudged at JJ’s side, interrupting his football conversation. You gave him an alerting look that said ‘look like you’re in love with me ASAP’ and he quickly enveloped his arm around you to pull you close.

Given the fact that you and JJ hardly knew each other, much less touched, it was a very ungraceful and awkward gesture. Even Warren shot you both a weird look. Either way, you figured it would be perfected after going at it a few times.

Just as the Hollywood couple sauntered in to the packed bar area, JJ dipped his face closer to yours. It was a nice touch to the act. He started whispering some stupid joke in your ear that you could hardly make out among the music and chatter, but you went along with it anyway, playfully slapping at his chest. He even placed his snapback on your head backwards. You almost yelled at him for ruining your hair, but for the sake of the show you were putting on, you pretended it was the cutest thing.

You tried not to look at Max as he passed, as you didn’t want to make things so obvious. But in the split second you did glance his way, his mouth flew agape. In that moment, you knew you had him right in the palm of your hand from twenty feet away. The evil laugh cackled inside your head while you raked your hands through JJ’s hair. It was surprisingly soft.

For the next few minutes, you could feel Max’s stare bore into you back as you leaned closer to JJ, kissing up his jawline and cheek. 

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you felt like this about me,” JJ teased.

“Shut up. I’m giving them a show,” you hissed with an infatuated smile to mask your threats.

“They’re gone now,” JJ noted lowly in your ear. You both detached like repelling magnets.

Fortunately, the posse and Warren dispersed among the crowd while you and JJ acted out your little PDA scene— it was probably from discomfort, if you were being honest. You did make sure not to hold anything back while you were draped all over JJ.

“Is that it?” JJ droned, back to his normal whiny self, “Am I done? Can we leave?”

Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, but with a grin this time. “Yes, you idiot, we can leave now.”

“Finally!”

JJ’s hand crept to your lower back as you both weaved through the mass of people to the exit. Before you could make it halfway down the staircase, however, you heard a rumbling behind you that stopped both your tracks. Warren’s six-four gigantic self was rummaging down the stairs, leaving booms in his wake.

“JJ! JJ!” he called out, grabbing hold of your fake boyfriend’s arm, “JJ dude, you gotta check out this new game system Billy has upstairs in the game room. You can play live Madden!”

“What?!” JJ’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas as Warren tugged you both back up the stairs with his giant football-player muscles.

“Dude it’s fucking sick! You gotta try it out,” Warren kept insisting. You knew JJ wouldn’t be able to resist. His eyes were practically glowing with excitement when he turned back to you as if to ask for some kind of approval.

“Okay, I’m just going to stay for one game,” he swore but you were a hundred-and-ten percent sure he’d be hooked and you could stay for much longer.

“Knock yourself out, Maybank,” you responded with a knowing smile, shooing him off to some depth of the Irvine’s enormous home. When he disappeared, you took the liberty to go search for your friends and finally enjoy the party for yourself.

As you predicted, one game turned into thirty real quick. It was well past midnight and JJ was still buried away somewhere doing who knows what. You didn’t mind. Warren was very responsible and you trusted him to take care of your date.

Plus, it gave you enough time to take rounds of various colored jello shots with Billy, dance on Mrs. Irvine’s countertops with the birthday girls, and devour the four-tiered tiramisu cake with fake-puking Barbie doll toppers that you helped pick out at the bakery.

When it got around one thirty, you grew a little concerned about JJ’s whereabouts so you sent him a quick text just to make sure he was okay and not shoving his head down a toilet. Your phone chimed back instantly—

Im jus fine y/n!!! One mor game! I almos beat War Ins Ass! Fuckin kwarter back!

Oh yeah, he was definitely gone. You texted your family’s driver to come by in about thirty minutes to make sure he’d get home safely. Then, you proceeded to dig in to your third slice of cake. Unlike the rest of your friends, you embraced the joy that was carbs— especially when you were drunk and there was chocolate involved.

JJ came downstairs a few minutes later and found where you were sitting on the couch surrounded by your circle of friends. Even amid the dark yet colorful beaming lights, his hair was still its usual sweaty mess with eyes a tad droopy, indicating just how drunk he was.

“Y/n! There’s my baby!”

He walked up and collapsed right onto your lap, tossing a dangly arm around you. You kept his snapback on for the entire night, assuming your hair was probably a bird’s nest underneath it. Everyone around seemed amused at the sight, and a few girls from school even began asking how you two started dating.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Well, that was until your thigh circulation began ceasing due to JJ’s bony ass on it. You immediately demanded that you switch places with him, and he sloppily obliged. The throng around you giggled, intrigued by the new lovey-dovey couple. Secretly, you ate up the attention and knew JJ did too.

He was in the middle of telling everyone a dumb Boneyard party story when Max and Anya entered the living room premises. They looked like they were fixing to leave. Your date felt you tense a little in his lap and caught on to your sudden judder.

Boldly, JJ made direct eye contact with Max and threw him one of those ‘what’s up’ nods. Then, out of nowhere, in his completely trashed state, JJ cupped both of your cheeks and planted a very brazen kiss on your lips for everyone to see. Shutting your eyes, you heard a few whistles from the crowd around you, especially when he, very obviously, added his tongue to the mix.

JJ was a good kisser, you had to admit. It quite literally, took your breath away when he pulled back. Biting your lip, you mimicked his shit-eating grin while he pressed his perspiration-filled forehead on yours. It was a huge acne-hazard just waiting to happen. But, like the snapback, you didn’t care. It was the most thrilling thing you had done in months.

“Don’t look now, but Vega and his girl have their jaws dropped to the floor behind you,” he muttered in your ear. You giggled and held onto him closer, leaning your head on his chest.

It was probably be best fifteen hundred bucks you had ever spent.

—————————————————

The next morning was your mom’s weekly Saturday brunch. By default, you showed up an hour early to help greet the guests, frequently checking your watch and phone to see when JJ would arrive.

You had a tennis tournament earlier that morning, however, you didn’t even bother making your fake boyfriend go. After the events of last night, you knew he’d be too hungover in the morning and wouldn’t wake up in time for it. He was getting to be very predictable.

At t-minus five minutes until the brunch started, everyone had already made their way into the ballroom. That left just you waiting in the lobby area for your date. The look on your face was just about ready to kill JJ whenever he walked through the door. You also didn’t see Sarah and John B arrive either, so you assumed they would be a no-show yet again.

About a minute past noon, the blond sauntered past the doors wearing a black suit that looked two sizes to big for him with hideous shoulder pads. You presumed it was his dad’s old one. He also had on jet black sunglasses to mask the grogginess from the party, but it was pretty evident he looked and felt like shit.

“You’re late again!” you hissed through gritted teeth, snatching his hand like he was an uncontrollable child. Maybe you should invest in a leash and collar for him since he could never get his attendance right.

“What do you mean? You said noon,” he yawned, unfazed at your irritation.

“The brunch starts at noon!” you jeered, “That means you have to show up early!”

“Well you failed to mention those rules,” he tried to bicker back, but you flashed him one of your bitch-looks before he could go any further. That had him shriveling at the sight.

“Whatever, just hurry up and let’s get seated,” you ordered, leading him through the majestic looking double doors, “And take off those sunglasses!”

Much to your dismay, the doors made a very loud creaking noise when they opened. Just about everyone did a double-take to see you arrive late and with a woozy-looking boy shoving sunglasses in his suit pocket.

Eyes were glued on you while judgmental whispers filled the already tense air. There was a small churn in your stomach as you weaved through the round tables. Something was also gnawing at your brain, telling you that it was a terrible, terrible idea. You attempted to brush it aside, though, as you and JJ took your seats.

For some odd reason, the Glossy Posse didn’t show the same enthusiasm towards JJ like the did at the party. They were back to their pretentious ways— you figured it was probably just their hangover attitude.

On the other hand, Warren happily greeted JJ when he sat down, exchanging one of those typical ‘bro’ handshakes. They started chatting on about the previous night while you tried to make small talk with the girls. Unfortunately, they were still being short with you and were, very obviously, throwing looks at JJ, along with their dates.

Glancing to your parents’ table, they didn’t look like they cared too much about your situation, having just flown in from their trip. They were too engrossed in entertaining their friends to really pay you any mind. Sometimes you were grateful that they were oblivious to some things. When you look over at the Vegas, however, Mr. and Mrs. Vega both sent you a disapproving look. The other families followed.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head at that point. Was it a mistake bringing JJ to this event?

The servers came out and made their rounds at the tables, setting bowls of water in front of everyone.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” JJ piped, taking his dessert spoon to sip water from the finger bowl.

“JJ,” you yelled-whispered as guests continued to stare.

“What?” he chided back with an attitude, completely unaware of his surroundings.

“The water is for your fingers.”

His face shot up from the bowl and scanned the room at people dipping their fingers into their respective bowls. “Oh shit,” he sputtered as your entire table tried to hide their snorts.

When the food finally came out, it didn’t really get any better. Baked chicken was on the menu and, well, JJ was the only one in the room who didn’t use a fork and knife. Everyone stared at him incredulously as he used his hands to gobble up his plate. Though, the boy didn’t seem to notice any of the baffled eyes.

Attempting to shield your red face, you continued to take tiny bites from your food, hoping the next hour would go by fast.

You hoped too soon.

As soon as JJ was done eating, he let out a loud belt to where the tables around you could hear. Warren high-fived him. At least someone got a kick out of it. You, along with the rest of the guests, had nothing but revolt on your faces.

Once the plates were cleared, the servers brought out creme brûlée for dessert. You were grateful it was something semi-clean to eat. JJ seemed to get a knack out of all the food. He even leaned over to you with his mouth full and muttered, “This food is fantastic! My compliments to the chef.”

You half-smiled back in embarrassment and took a spoon-full of your dessert. Thankfully, your mom waltzed over when you were half-way through to ask for your help carrying in the posters and stands from the lobby that displayed all the charity and donation information.

Immediately, you rose and scattered out, away from all the the dense room.

At the front, you began picking up the easel stands to bring inside until you spotted the jet-black locks of the last person you wanted to run into that afternoon. You almost dropped the large items in your hands when he came up to you.

“So, I see you brought Maybank here. Looks like he’s really enjoying himself in there,” Max commented dryly beside you. Mrs. Vega must have asked him for a hand as well.

You winced at the oozing criticism in his voice. It was the first time you had spoken to him one-on-one since the breakup.

”Yeah, we’re, uh, kind of together now,” you mentioned, lugging a display. He grabbed the two remaining and rushed to keep up with you, following you back in.

Out of nowhere, he let out disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, y/n, you and Maybank?”

Taken aback by his brashness, you stopped right before the ballroom doors, frowning. “Yeah,” you shot back sternly, “Why not? I get along with him fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. The guy’s a total tool. I’ve told you that from the beginning. Trust me, I know.”

“Know what? What’s good for me?” you pressed, growing more and more exasperated at the sound of his deep and raspy voice.

It was sexy, no doubt, but just the things that were coming out of his mouth made you want to slap him silly. How dare he prance up to you in his gorgeous light blue Armani suit and tell you what’s good for you!

“I just know who you are, y/n,” he went on calmly, with not an ounce of anger present in his tone, “And JJ’s just not a good guy for you.”

You were seeping with outrage at that point. Hiking in a breath, you spoke with the speckles of tranquility you had left in you. “Well I appreciate your concern, though I hardly understand why you have any for me. But we broke up, Max. You completely lost the right to tell me any of that.”

With that, you furiously stomped into the brunch and set the displays at the front for your mom. Max looked dumbstruck as he trailed behind. But you didn’t care.

“Everything okay? Did something happen with Vega?” JJ asked when you got back to your seat. You remained silent. It was the only way to keep yourself from screaming.

It was all too much— the piercing stares, the messy eating, Max.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you informed to JJ as he listened to another one of Warren’s football stories, “And then we’re leaving.”

Before he could respond, you were already racing to the bathroom as fast as your Jimmy Choo wedges could take you.

You needed air. And fast.

Bursting through the bathroom door, you heaved yourself into the biggest stall and flopped down on the toilet seat, taking in deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much. The room was still twirling like you were on the Graviton at a carnival. Too nauseous from it all, you didn’t even care that you were ruining your new white Valentino dress.

You just wanted to hurl inside the antique-decorated bathroom but couldn’t. It was miserable. But at least the bathroom was empty.

All the seeming success of last night crumbled away with every disapproving look or whisper of the guests. And then Max— that fucking asshole. Your head was thumping endlessly as you felt the stress knots crawl up your spine.

What were you thinking? Maybe you were in over your head. No one was believing it. Not for a second.

Even JJ was terrible at playing along. You should’ve known it was just wishful thinking. You knew you had to throw in the towel and told yourself you would call it off once you found some way to stop the hot tears that were streaming down your made-up cheeks.

As you felt your breathing start to normalize, you slowly lifted from the toilet seat and smoothened out your dress. When the bathroom door slammed open against the wall, you immediately fell back down, wanting to avoid any form of human interaction for the rest of your life.

Titters and snickers echoed the air as two girls stumbled in, mid-conversation. They didn’t seem to notice you in the stall at all. Thank God.

“Would you believe y/n? Bringing that dirty Pogue here? She’s gone insane!” A nasally voice spoke by the sinks.

You scrunched your nose, trying to catch a glimpse of their shoes from the opening underneath the stall. You nearly puked. Nameless brand heels? Unacceptable.

“I know! He’s so disgusting and that suit is just repulsive! Does she not have an ounce of embarrassment?” the other one added.

You didn’t recognize their voices, but assumed they probably went to your school by the way they knew you and JJ. A part of you wanted to charge out of the stall and drag their pitiful selves to the ground. But seeing as you were just recovering from a near panic attack, you didn’t have the energy. And they didn’t deserve your breath.

Nevertheless, they still went on. 

“Ever since Vega dumped her for California girl, she’s completely gone off the rails. First the hair change and now she’s dating a Pogue like Sarah Cameron is. It’s so pathetic!”

“Seriously, train wreck of the year if you ask me.”

Train wreck? Pathetic? You’ll show them what pathetic is! Especially with those god-awful shoes. Do they have an ounce of embarrassment showing up here with that kind of atrocity?

You were seconds away from emerging from your ashes to put them in their place. But, lucky for them, they escaped before you could come out of confinement.

Huffing, you stormed out of the stall and towards the mirrors to fix yourself. God forbid you’d ever let anyone see you with smeared mascara!

Dabbing a wet cloth on your cheeks to soothe out the redness, you heard the creak of the door opening behind you and immediately tossed it into a bin. You pretended to fix your hair. Fortunately, the redness faded to a soft pink to look like blush.

Anya strolled in the bathroom behind you. Ugh, the cherry on top of the cake.

You faked a tight smile at her. She threw a cheery one at you, walking up the sink next to yours to toss up her bouncy, voluminous hair. “So, I thought you said that guy out there wasn’t you boyfriend,” she pointed out, not taking her eyes off her own reflection.

“Oh, psh, well you know,” you sputtered, not expecting the sudden inquisition, “One thing led to another that night at the Boneyard and it just kinda… happened.”

It was the first real conversation you had with her, and you wanted to hold your breath at the awkwardness. Anya nodded at your answer, puckering her lips slyly. “I just think it’s cute that you’re trying to make Max jealous.”

You almost did a double take. It was so subtle and smooth, her comment almost flew right over your head. “Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to the blonde-haired home-wrecker.

She didn’t even flinch a muscle at your snub expression, just continued to ogle at herself. It was menacing. Evil really did take form in Anya Carmichael.

“Oh, did I need to spell it out for you?” she blinked, “Y/n, you’ve been out of the picture. If you think showing up with that god-awful guy in his dad’s raggedy suit is gonna change Max’s mind about you, I assure you it won’t work.”

She crinkled her eyes in a hateful smile.

What was with people and their audacity that afternoon? Whatever was in their water, you were not about to have any of it. No one spoke to you like that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said blandly, wanting to get under her skin.  

“Yes you do,” she snarled back, placing both hands on the sink in a threatening manner, “Look. Max and I are together now. You need to get that in your tiny pea-brain head. Do not play dumb with me. I see you looking over at him every five minutes. Get. Over. It.”

“Like I said,” you responded back in a fake-innocent tone just to push her buttons some more, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Anya. I think all the hairspray is really getting to your head.”

Two can play that game.

She narrowed her almond eyes at you and straightened up proudly. Even though she was way taller than you in her six-inch heels, you still stood your ground, blinking up at her tauntingly. At least your swanky parents taught you that much.

She scoffed. “Give it up, seriously. Using that guy to try to get back at your ex is just pathetic. Max was right about you. You’re just a shallow virgin with a handbag.”

With that, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and strutted out the door. Your blood was boiling, having half a mind to go out there and rip the bottled-blonde right off her head. You should’ve known it was all an act!

Fuming, you treaded back to the brunch table, your face doing a complete one-eighty once you stepped through the doors. A lady never showed her seething anger underneath.

JJ spotted you and promptly stood up, snatching your purse, and getting ready to leave.

“Sit,” you demanded, pushing him down by the shoulder so his ass plopped back firmly on the chair. The look of utter shock flashed on his face, but he just took it.

“I’m feeling better now. We’re staying,” you informed as if you were a commander at war. You glanced over at the Vegas’ table where Anya hung her arm proudly on Max’s bicep as he made some joke to his table. She threw over a glare at you. No one but you noticed.

You draped an arm on one of JJ’s ridiculously large shoulder pads, nuzzling your nose to his neck. He was still as confused as ever though, but still went along with it, digging his fork into your half-eaten dessert which he later finished.

If Anya wanted a war, you’ll give her one. May the best bitch win.

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note: YES SHE WENT THERE! you kno i had to stir in anya- y/n drama!!! 

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tags: @2kayla64​​ @jewel25​​ @rudyypankow​​ @rafecameron​​ @ultranikilove​​ @wicked-laugh​​​ @outerbankslut​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​ @tovvaf @obxlife​​ @ilovejjmaybank​​ @celestialmaybank @erraaxh​​ @poguecollins​​ @jolomez​​ @x-lulu​​ @danicarosaline​​ @teamnick​​ @outerbankslut​​​ @sweetlysilent​​​ @5am-cigarette @n1ghtsh4d3-67 ​​@duskangxl @hollandary​​ @rudths​​ @meaganjm​​ @bluesiderudy​​ @http-cherries​​ @allycat449-blog​​ @pink-meringues @mendesmaybank @lunaposey @natsiboo​ @primroswx​ @wtfkie​ @heyitsmeimdead @ilymarkchan​ @drewwbabyy-blog @kookkyra​ @mayybankz​ @ifilwtmfc​ @annedub

[statticscribbles]

Snake Dance

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: Sweet pea’s gf decides to become a serpent and performs the dance in the white wyrm in front of everyone including him.

You’d been dating Sweet Pea for months. You’d been half welcomed into the Serpent’s you knew they’d protect you; you were Sweet Pea’s girl after all. “Hey Toni?” You ask when she sits next to you at lunch. “What’s up Y/N?” “Do I have to talk to FP or Jughead about joining the Serpents?” “Really?” she looks you up and down. “Yes.” “You’re not doing this because of Sweet Pea are you? Like you’re not doing this just to be closer?” “Sort of. I want to be with him; but you and Fangs are two of my closest friends now; and I feel like we’ve bonded and I just;I feel safe with all of you. And I love the leather badass aesthetic you guys have.” Toni smiles.

“You could’ve just said it cause you like leather and I would’ve been fine with it. Jughead’s who you want to talk to about the trials. Beside’s the dance; you’ll have to come back to me for that.” “Dance?” She nods smirking. “Sweet Pea is going to thank me.” She laughs and you leave to find Jughead. “Jughead; can we talk for a second?” “Yeah? Is something wrong?” “I want to join the Serpents.” “Oh thank fuck.”

“What?” “I told Sweet Pea he wasn’t allowed, hell none of them were allowed to recruit you cause it’s pretty weird having people you’re dating join up in the serpents if you’re not sure the relationship is going to last; so they have to come on there own, like you did.” “Oh. So the trials?” “You have to memorize the Serpent laws, show you’re fearless; and then the dance.” “Show I’m fearless?” “You’re not scared of snakes are you?” He grins and you shake your head. “Talk to Toni about the dance. She’ll show you everything about it.” He nods and you return to Toni after school. “So the dance, can you teach me?” “Of course.”

“Toni I’m going to die.” You groan flopping onto the couch. “You’ll be fine Y/N.” “No I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. I mean what if-“ “Don’t you’ve gotten most of the steps down.” “I can’t do the steps and the hand movements at the same time! That ruins it!!” You scowl and she laughs. “What?” “You do know you have like two weeks to learn this right? It’s only been three days since you asked about it.” “It still feels like not enough! I mean the laws and whatever the fearless thing is; I’m sure I can handle but the dance is what’s freaking me out. I feel like a four year old playing dress up.” You nudge the heel’s you taken off. “You’ll do fine, how about we start with the hand movements and then the dance; and then we can try them together again.”

It’s the night before the dance; you’ve done the other trials; repeating the laws was nerve wracking having everyone shouting and cheering; but it was nice how much more welcoming the Serpent’s had been even just by you committing to that. The snake on the other hand went surprisingly disastrous considering said snake was venom-less; not only did it bite you; but you managed to knock the blade free and have it slice you before you’d grabbed it out. FP had been relieved; commenting you hadn’t done as bad as Fangs’ who’d moved so suddenly that he’d smashed his fist through the glass tank. Toni’s favourite part of the story is when Fangs tried to defend himself; inadvertently cementing his nickname in everyone’s eyes. “We purposefully don’t have the dance the same night as the other trials; also; Toni picks the date for you to do it. It’s easier so we can make sure it’s just Serpent’s.” You nod as FP explains, as he finishes wrapping your hand. “It might scar; I’d advise at least two days to let it heal before any movement. Let alone the dance.” You frown as Toni brings you back home. “So? Any ideas?”

“Three days from now.” “Of course; I’ll let everyone know then.” She smirks and nods to your hand. “Better practice. And choose your outfit!” “Outfit? I thought I was just wearing underwear?” “Yeah; in front of all the Serpents; choose wisely.” She laughs and leaves you at your front door; you sigh; walking straight to your closet to look through your outwear first; you know this won’t matter as much, considering it’ll be removed within minutes. You still take your time smirking when you have an idea. You pull out the leather skirt you’d gotten mostly as a joke rolling the waistband so it’s almost a mini skirt and finding one of Sweet Pea’s old shirts to tuck into it. With that sorted you debate your bra and underwear; you ignore anything that’s not matching and finally break and message Toni. -Pink or black?- -We’ve never seen pink before- You grin pulling the pink set you have over; glaring at the heels wondering if they’ll match but as Toni and Cheryl reminded you; black goes with everything.

You make a point of not telling Sweet Pea, just enjoying the excuse that Toni invited you to the serpent’s party as a way to warm you up before you become an official serpent. You can feel when Sweet Pea’s eyes land on you and as the night goes on you don’t feel them off you once. Toni laughs using the excuse of girl talk to pull you away. “You ready Y/N?” “I don’t think I’m gonna die for now.”

“Good start.” She winks nodding to the stage where FP offers his hand out. You hadn’t realized he’d been talking, or that he introduced you but when you step up onto the stage and hear the crowd cheer you can’t help but smile at their excitement. They quiet as the music starts and you try your best to focus on Sweet Pea who seems extremely bothered that his shirt is the first thing to go. You know there wasn’t any rules on which you took off first, just that by the next beat both your top and bottoms had to be off leaving you in just your ‘snake skin’ to dance to. You can’t help but smile to yourself; you’d decided to go slightly more literal with the snake skin metaphor, choosing to wear the pink snake patterned bra set you’d gotten as a joke when Cheryl and Toni took you birthday present shopping for Sweet Pea. He hadn’t seen it, you’d just buried it in your drawers embarrassed at how revealing it was.

You can tell he’s pleased, his gaze tracking you as you slowly draw your hands up yourself and cross them over yourself before dipping down again to repeat the motion; snake charmer indeed you think, with how you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. You turn around, letting your hand slide up the opposite arm before you turn back to face everyone and repeat it on the opposite hand finishing with your hands wrapped around your own chest and neck as the song fades. You watch the crowd, they raise their hands in the fang gesture and you watch confused, before you realize they’re voting. You turn watching FP who’s eyes scan around the room; he laughs stepping forward.

“As If I’d say no. In unity-“ he turns to you holding his own hand in the gesture and you mimic, doing the same. “There is strength!” You all shout and can’t help the rush it brings to see everyone speaking as one. Toni’s next to you handing you your own jacket and you beam when she and fangs hug you. You watch; Sweet Pea letting everyone else congratulate you. You worried you’ve upset him but when you make it over to him redressed and sporting your new jacket his hands slide right under your clothes, one against your back pulling you against him and the other under your skirt.

“Why on earth did you not inform me that this is what you’d be wearing?” “Well it was supposed to be for your birthday, but we went out to Pop’s so I figured now would be a good time to use it.” “Well happy birthday to me, a few months late, but I don’t mind; now-“ “Sweet Pea! Quit hogging the newest snake! We wanna;” The serpent quiets himself when Sweet pea glares. “You can induct her into everything on Friday.” “Babe tomorrows Thursday.” “I know; we’re going back to my trailer for now; I expect you all to be able to carry on without us?” He grins and everyone nods varying degrees of disgust on their faces.

“So I’m guessing you liked it?” You laugh  as he pulls you towards his bike, pausing to nudge you agains the wall so he can kiss you. “Like is too soft a word.” “Soft? Does this mean there’s a harder word?” You laugh gasping when he presses himself against you. “Definitely something’s harder, but we both know it’s not the conversation.��� “Well now I understand why you said I’ll be back on Friday.”

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[autumn-ginkgo-leaves]

Perfect Heat

 Yooha x Reader. A couples’ shoot with Yooha takes a heated turn. Fluff and smut. NSFW.

You receive a video call, and when you answer it you see Yooha’s smiling face. “Master, I’ve got a modelling job for us. A couples’ shoot.”

You’re at home in your room sorting through your closet, trying to choose an outfit for the next Wannabe Challenge. “Hm? You found a job? For us?”

Yooha’s only just started modelling and he’s been living in the human world for about five minutes. He can’t have been offered anything amazing yet.

His grey eyes sparkle with reproach. “Tsk. You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, sure. But I probably don’t have time.”

A smile plays around his lips. “You’ll find time when I tell you who it’s for. Ever heard of Perfect Glow?”

Your eyes widen. Perfect Glow is one of the most exclusive perfume brands. They only use famous actors and models for their ads and the pictures are always stunning. “Are you serious? And they want both of us? That’s amazing!”

Yooha’s smile widens, confident and lazy now that he’s got your attention. It doesn’t really surprise you that he’s being offered modelling contracts that other men would kill for. The man is too handsome for his own good. “They’re launching a new perfume called Perfect Heat. I told them I’d only do it with you.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Did you use magic on them or something?”

He laughs, a musical sound that has you smiling and your insides fluttering. “Master, my magic only works for you. I’ll tell them we’ll consider it, then?”

You throw the dress you’re holding onto the bed. “You’ll tell them yes, right now.”

Yooha frowns. “You haven’t even heard what they want from us.”

Your heart is pounding at the thought of doing a couples’ shoot with Yooha, and one for the Perfect Glow brand no less. You’ve seen dozens of their ads and they’re intimate and stylish. “What’s there to think about? They’re a great brand and this is an amazing opportunity for you.”

Yooha still hesitates. “You should probably read over the brief. Think through it carefully. You might not have the, uh, experience.” He clears his throat and his gaze slides away from the screen.

Your eyes narrow. “Are you lecturing me about experience? Thanks, but I’ve been choosing my own work for a while now. I’ll call them myself and offer to do the shoot with someone else if you don’t want to.”

Yooha suddenly looks fierce. “No way. I’m not going to let do this with another man. But read over the brief before you—”

Let you. Please. “Accept the job. Bye, foxy.” You hang up and shake your head. Being flattered by a few brand execs has gone to his head.

A few minutes later you stop by the window and gaze out onto the street. A couples’ shoot with Yooha. An excuse to be close to him without giving him too many ideas about what you do and don’t want from him, because you’re still not sure. He’s hot, but he seems dangerous to fall for. 

Working with him is safe, though, and pretending to be his girlfriend for a few hours sounds like fun.

***

Three days later

You stare in horror at the black corset and tiny pair of briefs that the photographer’s assistant is holding out to you.

“You want me to wear…these?” you ask in a horrified whisper.

The assistant frowns at you. “You did read the brief, didn’t you? It was all in there. The vibe for this shoot is boudoir. Sex. Danger.”

Yooha smirks at you from over her shoulder. “Of course she read the brief. She’s a professional. Aren’t you?”

You glare at him with so much heat you’re surprised his skin doesn’t blister. “I…forgot for a second. Sure. I’ll go get changed.”

She passes you a pair of eight-inch heels, and your stomach swoops. You’ve never even worn these sorts of things playing around in your bedroom, let alone in front of a dozen people.

And Yooha.

He eyes you with interest as wardrobe people flutter around him with various shirts, holding them up against his shoulders to see how they look.  

Face burning, you disappear into your dressing room. There’s a make-up artist and hairdresser and they get to work on making you ready for the shoot. The whole time they work, you look nervously at the skimpy clothing lying on the sofa and fantasise about grabbing your handbag and running away.

Finally, they leave you alone to change and you wiggle into the corset and briefs and strap your feet into the high heels. Gazing in the mirror, you moans softly, “Yooha, what the hell did you get me into?”

There’s a rush of heat behind you, and then a low whistle. “Wow. I’m seeing a new side of you.”

You lunge for a robe to wrap around your body. “Knock, why don’t you!”

“Can’t knock when it’s magic. I can only obey. Wow.” He circles you slowly, his eyes running appreciatively up and down your body. “You look…hot.”

You hesitate, wondering if he’s making fun of you. “Um. I feel kind of stupid.”

He meets your eyes in surprise. “You do? Why?”

You glance down at yourself. Your breasts are pressed high and tight and the briefs are cut away to reveal your hips. Everyone’s going to laugh at you the second you step out of this dressing room. “Because I don’t ever wear stuff like this, dummy!”

He gazes at you reproachfully, and you sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling myself.”

Yooha’s in a long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. The shirt is unbuttoned down his chest, and the fabric is almost see-through, hinting at the muscles of his biceps. The makeup artist has darkened his lashes and swept his silver hair back. He looks incredible.

“At least one of us gets to wear an actual outfit,” you grumble.

He reaches out and taps you affectionately under the chin. “Don’t worry, master. We’re dressed up, playing a part. I’ve seen you do this so often.”

You think about this, and nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He folds his arms, gazing at you. “I’m glad it’s me with you, and not some other guy.”

You feel a smile tug the corner of your mouth. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

The way he’s looking at you is sort of…nice. Not lewd. Just softly appreciative.

He helps you into the robe and takes your hand. “Come on. Let’s go and wait out there. Keep that robe on so you don’t get cold.”

As he leads you across the set, you notice him glaring at any of the male assistants who become distracted by the sound of your high heels and stare too long at you.

Ten minutes later, the photographer comes to talk to you both, camera brandished in his hand, and gives you directions. The butterflies in your stomach are whipped into a frantic storm when you realize you’re going to have to straddle Yooha’s lap.

You remove your robe and take up your positions, Yooha sitting on a chair and you across his lap, thighs spread. It feel so unnatural and your skin crawls with self-consciousness as you realize how many people are staring at you.

“Hey,” Yooha says softly, drawing your attention back to him. “I’m here. It’s just us.”

You take a deep breath and look into his eyes. Just him. Maybe you can do this if you pretend it’s just the two of you.

The photographer calls out to Yooha, “Pull her closer. Touch her some more. This is about heat. Perfect Heat.”

Yooha raises a brow at you. Asking for permission.

“That’s not a problem is it?” the photographer asks, an edge to his voice.  

You nod, and Yooha slips his hands around your waist. Large, strong hands. You feel yourself getting lost in his silver eyes as the photographer snaps photos. You’ve caught this hungry expression on Yooha’s face before, but up close, it takes your breath away.

He angles his face as if he’s about to kiss you, and heat rushes through you, from the tips of your toes to your nipples. Your thighs squeeze his hips and you rock into him, begging with him with your eyes to give you what you need.

Just you and him.

Just like you’ve thought about so many times, even if you haven’t wanted to admit it to yourself. Your intense attraction to your housemate.

Yooha’s fingers brush the lacings of the corset at your lower back and you lick your lips, certain that he’s about to pull them slowly free.

“Your hair’s blocking the shot, move it to your other shoulder,” the photographer suddenly barks.

You jump and look around. A dozen pair of eyes are staring back at you dispassionately. Everything comes crashing down around you, and you jump to your feet. This is worse, because now everyone’s looking even harder at you.

“I’m sorry, I...” As you hurry back to your dressing room, tears prickling your eyes, you vaguely hear Yooha asking for a short break.

A few minutes later, Yooha comes quietly into the dressing room, holding the robe, but everyone else is still out there. Waiting for you.

“Are you all right, master?”

He holds out the robe, and you take it from him but you don’t put it on. “Were you acting out there?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Which part?”

“The part where you looked at me like I was a persimmon and you’re a hungry fox.” If he’s not attracted to you, and everyone can tell and they’re currently out there laughing at you, you might crumple up and die. 

He chuckles darkly. “I don’t have to pretend any of that, and if you don’t believe me, maybe that’s our problem.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes grow dark with mischief. He comes toward you and plants a hand on the wall by your head. “What do you think?”

Instinctively, you reach up and splay your hands across his chest. He’s just so touchable that you wonder if he’s waving those pretty tails at you and dazzling your senses, but no. It’s just him.  

His mouth dips toward yours. “Why don’t we try something?”

Your eyes are about to flutter closed. If he wants to kiss you, sure. That won’t be the craziest thing that happens today, and your whole body is practically begging for it.

Suddenly he picks you up in his arms and sits down with you on the sofa in his lap. His arms wrap around your hips and he hugs you tight against his body. He nuzzles your throat, planting kisses everywhere.

This is perfect now you’re alone, and you melt into him. A moment later, you feel something against your thighs and you gasp and look down. He’s…he’s hard.

“See?” he murmurs. “Not pretending.”

Your fingers curl through his hair at the nape of his neck. It feels amazing to be this close to him, but you have no idea what you’re supposed to do next.

As if reading your mind, he nips your lower lip with his teeth and murmurs, “Turn around. I’ll show you.”

Frowning, you do as he asks, straddling him in the other direction. Your ass is tucked against his hips. Before you realize what he’s doing, he’s lain back on the sofa, hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you up the length of his body until you’re straddling his face.

Your hands press against his stomach. “Yooha! What the hell are you doing?”

“Giving my master her throne.” He kisses you, right over your clit through your underwear.

What the hell? you mouth to yourself. Your nails dig into his flesh, but you don’t move away. You’re locked in place, wondering what he’s going to do next.

Yooha draws your underwear aside and licks you with a long stroke of his tongue. Your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back. That feels all kinds of amazing. He licks you again, and then swirls his tongue against your clit. Your breath picks up and you start to moan.

Even as you get lost in the sensations, you feel flashes of self-consciousness. He can see everything. And can he breathe?

His hum of appreciation vibrates against your inner thighs. Yeah, seems like he can breathe, but this is such a bizarre position, and you feel more exposed than ever.

“Yooha, I don’t…ohhhh.” You break off and breathe in sharply, your eyes drifting closed for a moment. He’s making your insides feel golden and you suddenly don’t want him to stop. His tongue feels incredible, lapping at your sensitive clit, and it feels even better when he moves up to delve deep inside you. The man has a strong tongue and knows how to use it.

You lean forward and stroke the bulge in the front of his jeans, and your mouth waters. Acting rather than thinking, you unbuckle his belt and unzip the jeans. When you stroke the length of his cock through his underwear, Yooha’s hands tighten on your hips and he sucks on your clit. Lost in the haze of pleasure that washes over your body, you lean forward, push the waistband of his underwear down and run your tongue along the length of him. He feels good against your tongue, hard and hot and velvety on the outside. You want nothing more than to take him in your mouth as you lose yourself in what he’s doing to you. 

And so you do.

You suck lovingly up and down the length of his cock, your eyes closed. You’re getting closer and closer to your peak and your mouth moves rhythmically. Beneath your body, you feel Yooha’s breathing deepen and his flesh heat up. Needing more of him, you press back against him, sucking harder.

Yooha groans and laps hard at your clit. Your body arches hard against his as you come, moaning around his cock. As the sensations pound through you, Yooha pushes his length deeper into your mouth, and you feel your mouth flood with liquid. Surprised, you swallow it down, musky and sweet and tasting like him.

A moment later, Yooha’s head falls back, and he pants for breath. “Fuck, master. You taste like a dream.”

You sit up slowly and look over your shoulder. He’s smiling lazily at you while you wipe your mouth, his fingers threading beneath your underwear to stroke your ass.

You turn around and straddle him, your hair cascading down over his shoulder. “Yooha. You taste even better.”

You press your lips against his as his arms come around you and crush you against him. There are too many clothes between the two of you and you tug at your irritating corset. You just want to be naked with Yooha. His tongue parts you lips and slides against yours, and with one of his knees raised you rub your pussy back and forth against his thigh. He’s everything you’re feeling right now. He’s your whole world.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and someone calls, “Break’s over in five minutes.”

You pull back in surprise, your eyes widening. You’ve forgotten completely where you are again.

Yooha mutters a curse and sits up, zipping up his jeans and buckling his belt.

Frantically, your pat down your hair and blot at your mouth. The makeup artist is going to be annoyed with you. Your lipstick has probably come off all over Yooha’s... You bite your lip and smile up at him as he smooths your hair back.

“Feel okay now, beautiful?” he asks.

You feel strange, but definitely more relaxed.   

The shoot goes smoothly after that. It’s easier to focus on him and ignore everyone else around you.

Two weeks later when the ad starts appearing in magazines and on billboards, people comment over and over how good the two of you look together. It’s an amazing picture, the two of you looking deep into each other’s eyes with intense expressions, as if you’re both about to combust with need.

Even your barista recognises you both when you’re buying coffee with Yooha one morning, and she rushes to show everyone in the queue the picture of the two of you on her phone. 

Yooha slings an arm around your shoulder and smirks. “Hasn’t she got a perfect glow in that picture? We really create that perfect heat.”

You shove him off with a roll of your eyes. His ego is getting so big, and the double meaning in his words makes you blush.  

You head over to a table, and he follows. There’s still a smile on his face, but it’s filled with meaning. He glances at the oversize long-sleeved top you’re wearing. “Have you been getting chilly lately, master? The weather’s changing.”

You hug your arms around yourself as if the winter cold really is getting to you, and nibble at your thumbnail. Your mind is back on that sofa with Yooha while he licks you in all the places that feel amazing.

“Just call me if your get cold, master. I know how to heat you up again.” Yooha takes your thumb out of your mouth and kisses it. “And I miss your taste.”

You miss his, too. You watch him sip his coffee, wondering how early you can go to bed tonight without the others thinking its suspicious, and whisper his name in the darkness.

Thank you for reading! You can send requests for fics to my ask box. At the moment I’m writing for Wannabe Challenge and LoveUnholyc. Find all my finished fics here.

[starwarsimagines1105]

Soulmates O-WK

A/N Soulmate AU in which Jedi can only have attachments if they have soulmates

Warning: Slightly vulgar language

~~

You walked into the club you worked at, already counting the seconds until your shift was over. Most nights you worked as a bartender but tonight you worked as a waitress since you needed an extra shift and that’s all the manager could give you. Walking through the crowded room, you were stared at but you kept going. You hated waitressing, people always took your job as a reason that they should be able to touch you.

You walked into the staff room and took off your jacket, revealing your uniform, a tight, low-cut blouse. You also traded your comfortable boots for black stilettos all female waitresses were forced to wear. As you walked out, you felt a strange pull towards the entrance of the club but you ignored it. You approached the bar, seeing your favorite coworker. “Hey, Y/N!” Va’Jar greeted you. Noticing your attire he gave you a sympathetic look. “Waitressing tonight?”

“Yup,” you sighed, “let’s hope I don’t break an ankle.”

He chuckled, “Can you bring these to table five?” he asked, pointing at what looked like a bachelorette party. You nodded, grabbing the tray full of martinis and cosmos. “Oh, and Y/N?” he called, making you turn back to him. “There seems to be a Jedi here, Chalvak at the end of the bar just served one with a beard.”

“Oh, thank you, Va’Jar,” you said quietly. Your soulmark was a Jedi symbol, so naturally, you assumed your soulmate was either a Jedi or obsessed with them. Everyone knew Jedi weren’t supposed to have any attachments and usually the unlucky people who had Jedi as soulmates went missing. No one knew what happened to them but you, and everyone else, assumed they were killed or imprisoned so their mates weren’t distracted.

Walking through the crowded room, a woman covered in weird clothing passed you, later followed by a Jedi with short hair except for a braid behind his ear and a short ponytail at the back of his head. As he passed you held your breath. He didn’t seem to notice you or be particularly drawn to you so you sighed in relief.

You walked back to the bar with your now empty tray. Suddenly you saw the wave of a blue lightsaber out of the corner of your eye. Dropping your tray in surprise, it clattered, drawing the bearded Jedi’s attention to you. Your heart stopped, he’s your soulmate. Your soulmate passed the woman from earlier to the other Jedi. He approached you, where you stood frozen in fear. “Please don’t leave,” he begged, “I must deal with this prisoner but I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You nodded, which seemed to be confirmation enough for him to walk back over to his friend. Once they left, you quickly headed to the back, grabbing your coat and heading towards the back exit. As you tried to leave Va’Jar stepped in front of the door. “Y/N, what are you doing? This is your soulmate, you’re just going to walk away from him?”

“Well, what else can I do? Think about it, every known mate of a Jedi disappears and Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments. They’re going to kill me or ship me off to a different planet far away,” you reasoned. Seeing your point, Va’Jar stepped out of the way. “Thank you,” you said, walking towards the door he once blocked. Before you stepped out, you turned back and hugged him.

“I’ll miss you,” he said. “Good luck avoiding your soulmate.”

You gave a slight, sad laugh at the hopeless irony of it all. “I’ll miss you too.”

-

Obi-Wan’s POV

Walking back into the club, I couldn’t feel my soulmate’s presence anymore. I scanned the room for a girl with H/C hair but I couldn’t find her. I assumed she worked here, considering she had been holding a tray and was wearing the same skimpy outfit as about a dozen other girls here.

Walking over to the end of the bar where most of the other waitresses seemed to be flocking to, I saw a humanoid man but with snake like skin. “Excuse me, there was a waitress here with H/C hair and E/C eyes, do you know where she is?”

Continuing to shake and mix drinks he answered, “Look, if you’re looking to screw her, she’s not a prostitute.”

“Oh, believe me, that’s not my intention. Can you at least tell me her name?” I didn’t know what to say. If Jedi found their soulmates, they weren’t supposed to tell other, non-Jedi. For the sake of their soulmate’s safety and to make sure they weren’t exploited. “I believe she’s my soulmate,” I broke the rule.

“I still can’t tell you where or who she is.”

Sighing, I decided to use the force. “You will tell me who that girl was.”

A blank look crossed over his face. “Her name is Y/N,” he said in an empty tone.

“Where did she go?” I continued to manipulate his mind.

“I don’t know, she left through the back exit, saying she was escaping.”

“Why,” I continued to press forward.

“She fears Jedis kill their mates.”

Cursing, I let go of the hold I had on his mind, running towards the back exit. I threw open the door, but I had no clue where she went. There was no way for me to track her. The best I could do was search everywhere. My heart felt like it was breaking. My own soulmate didn’t want me. I rolled up my sleeve, looking sadly at the system of stars. I found the coordinates by matching the map on my forearm to the archives of the Jedi Temple. I had pinpointed the location as Tampidor, which I assumed was her native planet. I had visited once, trying to find her but I ultimately failed. With no other options, I decided to return there to begin my search for her.

Making my way to the Senate Building where Senator Amidala was staying, I pulled out my communicator and requested a meeting with the council. By the time I got back to Padmé’s quarters, the council was ready to meet. Using R2-D2, the council was projected in front of me. “Obi-Wan, this meeting you called, why? Much anguish I sense in you,” Yoda spoke.

“I believe I have found my soulmate,” I reported. When a Jedi found their soulmate, they had to be reported to the council. “However, she fled, and I’m requesting time off to search for her.”

“We can’t allow that,” Master Windu spoke up, “you are needed by Anakin and the Republic. Besides, she ran away for a reason. Why would you want someone who doesn’t love you?”

“I believe she is afraid. She thinks we will kill her for being my soulmate,” I reasoned.

“Most unfortunate, that is,” Yoda sympathized. “Search for her, you cannot. On Courscant, needed, you are.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” I said in disappointment. I turned off the hologram, turning to the window in disappointment. Looking out into the galaxy, I couldn’t help but wonder where exactly she was. My mind went back to her, her H/L, H/C hair I wanted to run my fingers through. Those E/C eyes I could stare into forever. And the thing I wanted most was her lips, oh makers how I wanted to kiss those lips.

-

I stood in the center of the Jedi chambers, listening to Yoda tell me of my next assignment. “Disturbances, there have been, on a planet in the outer rim. Go there, you will, and resolve such conflicts. Where you will go to is, Tampidor.”

My head snapped up, Tampidor. It had been two years since my mate slipped through my fingers, I was determined to make sure it didn’t happen again. “I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity, Masters,” I bowed graciously.

“Needed are not, thanks. Best suited, you are, for this task,” Yoda said graciously with a smile. As much as having a soulmate was seen as an interruption, whenever a soulmate was found was a celebration. Despite the fact that we all knew having attachments could be a Jedi’s downfall, we all sometimes felt the loneliness. So those without soulmates were typically happy for those with them since they knew they’d always feel that slight ache of loneliness and were glad to see their friends happy.

I nodded again, walking out of the council chambers in excitement. I swiftly began packing what I need, eagerly making my way to a ship. Passing one of the pilots, he stopped me. “I heard you’re going to Tampidor, good luck.”

“Thank you,” I beamed, continuing to my ship.

~~

Part 2 

Taglist

@algentforthewin @fanartcollectorwriter @randomfangirl7

[jasmehraj]

Wedding au

A timinette.

This was a request from Huntressofartemis10. I hope you like it. I am thinking of making a part 2 of this story.

________________________________________________________________________________

Marinette was very excited. Today was the day, she will be finally wed. The day her dreams come true. The day when she will be Mrs. Agreste and she will have three kids and hamsters and and and....

"Girl I can hear you overthinking." Alya her best friend. I was so afraid I am going to lose my friends but she didn't. Adrien managed to convince Lila to talk with me and I admitted my defeat. She got everyone back. All her friends were back. Tikki wasn't very happy with it.

Me and Adrien grew close. He confessed his love for me on our 10th date. Kagami left the country but they were still friends. She was even coming to their wedding. When I told her about the wedding yesterday her eyes went wide, maybe Adrien forgot to tell her? and she hesitantly tried to tell me something... She said that she is going to be here tomorrow and then she hung up.

Lila, well Lila didn't even try to ruin it!! She was just smiling and said,"Congratulations."

I am also going to reveal my identity as MDC. Hawkmoth is still a threat so, the wedding is going to be in New York but I am not afraid because I have my friends to back me up.

Chloe talks to me every once a week. We are friends, she shows me the side she never showed anyone else. She always gets quiet when I bring up Adrien. She also tried to tell me something but I hung up because Adrien was calling me.

Now sitting in a flight to New York, her phone tinged, it was a message from Tim. She met him this month. He was a coffee addict just like her and sleep deprived. She loves hanging out with him. They both solve puzzles, mind-games, riddles and share coffee recipes. She doesn't know what relation she has with him but only thing she knows is that he understands her like no one else does. When she told him about the wedding he looked so lost. He excused himself quickly.

Luka just smiled a sad smile and congratulated her.

She was now sitting on a plane going to New York. She wanted to make her Wedding dress but Gabriel told her that she is going to be the face of Gabriel's brand after him and Adrien. So, she HAS to wear a Gabriel original. It was not what she wanted but she couldn't question. Adrien just gave her a small apologetic smile. She understood and obeyed that is what she is supposed to do. She looked at her phone. There were multiple messages from Tim and others but she didn't get time to read them because the voice of Pilot rang through the speakers.

The plane landed and she went to her room and started getting ready. It was time for her wedding. She sat in the limo and they made their way towards the hotel. There were many people there. Her father looked very sad. I took his arm and he led me inside. When I entered, Adrien wasn't there. Where is he? She looked everywhere. She can't see her friends either. Where are they? Many cameras were there. She was just standing there confusion clear on her face. Where are they?

Tim came in looking like he just came running from somewhere,"Marinette, don't hmphhh-" He was cut off when three guards came and held him one covering his mouth.

"Stop that I invited him."She dropped the bouquet. She was going to him but was stopped by a hand. He turned to look at Natalie,"Mr. Agreste has forbidden him to come here."

"He's my friend. Release him this instant."

"No, Marinette. Take him away." Tim was so done he just knocked them out. They were just three men he had taken care of bigger villains,"Marinette. Don't Marry Him."

"Why Tim?"

"Because-"

He was again cut off this time by Adrien,"Princess come here let's start the ceremony."

"No Marinette he is cheating on you." Everyone's head whipped towards Adrien.

"Marinette, princess I am not cheating on you. Why would I even do that? I love you."

The door flew open three figures came flying all in a purple attire.

"Kagami, Luka, Chloe."Marinette was panicking today was supposed to be perfect. What is the meaning of this?

"We are the truth. We take care everyone who lied and tried to hurt our friend."They went towards Adrien and surrounded him. Adrien suddenly started blurting out,"I don't love you. I just used you as a distraction when Kagami left me. You were never supposed to be successful. I wanted to ruin you. You will marry me ignoring everything because you are so deep in the fantasy world that you couldn't see me sneaking out at night, cheating on you everyday, you even ignored the fact that I call you princess which Chat Noir called you. I am Chat Noir. After we get wed, father will make you sign a contract that will make the brand MDC, every single penny his, mine. You will never get out of the house. You will be our prisoner. You will be a puppet who will be controlled and I will finally have my revenge when I'll see you cry." He gasped for air and then continued. "Kagami broke up with me because you pointed out Lila was a liar and that I knew she was, that I told you to take the high road. She broke up with me. Chloe stopped talking to me and that Luka, I wanted to get rid of him but he became famous, it became hard, sometimes I just wanted to cataclysm him. I never told them that I was dating you and I stopped you from mentioning that either. When you told them about the wedding they came flying to save you because they knew what I do every night.They told this scum-TIM too. I kicked them out but this scum somehow beated the security and came in here."

Marinette didn't know when she started walking, when she reached him. But when she did, she slapped him hard and took off his ring,"What-" He was cut off by another slap and another and another until he was unconscious. Then she ran away. The akuma following her. Tim ran to catch up to her and carried her bridal style. "Tim I-" Tim cut her off by putting a finger on her lips.

They somehow lost the akuma. He put her down. She couldn't cry now. No. She has a job to do.

She held out her hand to Tim," Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne. I am giving you the miraculous of Black Cat. Will you agree to fight alongside me and have my back to retrieve the miraculous from the hands of Hawkmoth? Do you agree?"

"Yes I do." He had a determined look on his face.

He put the ring on his finger. Plagg appeared and as soon as he did he was in her face,"Bug Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth. He did all of this so he can akumatize you to achieve his goal. It was his plan from the start."

Marinette turned to Tim,"To transform say, Plagg Claws out. To detransform say, Plagg Claws in."

He nodded,"Plagg claws out." He was now dressed in a cat themed suit but with a cape and a utility belt along with the baton.

She said,"Tikki spots on."Her dress changed. She was now wearing a much mature outfit with a full face mask and armored boots. She had multiple yoyos on her hips. She also had a dagger almost which was very hard to see near her yoyos."Let's go."

Tim followed her. They both reached near the akuma. It was still searching for Marinette and Tim.

"I think the akuma is in the stack of photos they came with as an evidence." She nodded and they get back to work. Ladybug called her lucky charm, It was a statue that looked like her but curled up. She immediately got the idea. She put her in an alleyway and told her plan to Tim. They called the akuma to follow them and it did follow them. They reached the alleyway and swung away but the akuma got distracted by the lucky charm. She tied them up mid-air using her yoyos. Tim cataclysmed the pockets of all three of them and a black butterfly fluttered out. She purified it and called her miraculous ladybug and everything was back to normal.

She looked at Tim to see he was searching for something in the baton. His ears twitched and he threw his head over her head calling cataclysm,"Be careful Ladybug, Hawkmoth is sending Akumas for you." She shut all the emotions she was feeling and turned to Tim,"What are you doing?"

"I am a detective, a hacker and an inventor. I am tracking Hawkmoth Aka Gabriel. AHA."

"You found him?" She looked at him.

"He detransformed and is at the wedding avenue. It is all over the news."

"Let's go."

They went through the front door. Gabriel was speaking to the reporters,"Don't listen to anything he said. It was under the akuma's influence-"

"Gabriel" Ladybug's voice was firm but strong that made every single person quiet down. Her parents came running to her,"Is our baby alright?"

"Yes, we have taken her to a much safer place." They looked loads relieved but still tense.

"Gabriel." She spoke again.

"Yes." She came near him.

"Why did the akuma attack your son?"She asked. All the while Tim stealthily reached behind him and pulled some tape from his utility belt. As he was talking to Ladybug he covered his mouth with tape and grabbed his arms. Many people came forward including the police.

"Back off." Ladybug showed the dagger threateningly. They all seemed smart enough. She ripped his tie off and snatched the miraculous. In her peripheral she saw Natalie trying to escape but she threw two yoyos one rolled around Natalie and the other was wrapped painfully on her open mouth drawing blood and stopping her mid sentence (Dussu-). She walked to her, the crowd parted for her. She pulled a chunk of her dress off. She was wearing the peacock miraculous. She ripped it off to and both were secured in her yoyo. They threw them with each other.

"Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Scouncer. I ,ladybug the guardian of the miraculous curse you for eternity for misusing the miraculous of butterfly and peacock miraculous and giving pain to them. Thus you will feel all the pain you ever gave to anyone, you will feel all the pain you've given to Paris and the miraculous together and you will never be able to wield the miraculous again. Citizens of Paris the reign of hawkmoth has thus ended."

Then she turned to the police,"Arrest them they are the terrorists who terrorized Paris for 6 years. You must have got the idea. You can search for Parisian news if you want to know what I am talking about." The police officer nodded. They cuffed both of them who were glowing and growling in pain.

"Miss. Dupain Cheng will reach the hotel along with her friends in an hour." The Dupain Chengs nodded.

"BUG out." "GOODBYE."

They both landed in an alleyway and detransformed. She immediately cried on Tim's shoulder. Tim doing the same as they hugged each other and Tikki and Plagg nudging their cheeks with sad faces.

This wedding was not what her dream was like. Even Adrien was not how her dream Adrien was like.

After an hour they both somehow reached the hotel. Their friends tackled them in a hug.

"I have to change this. I can't bear to wear this." Said Marinette. Everyone nodded.

They all changed their clothes and cried hugging each other and fell asleep. At least they were in this together.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tim is from another universe. He has yet to find a way back. Suggest me should I make a part or not?

Love,

Jasmehraj.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 8

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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[Hermione]

Hermione resists the urge to look back to her table as she exits the bar. She really doesn't need to see Lavender in Ron's lap, her fingers in his hair… they broke up, and she has no right to attach herself to him like that. She tries to focus on what Lavender said — Ginny needs her. It is probably some wedding-related anxiety and Hermione can surely help with that… but why can't Lavender? With a groan, she forces the image of Lavender and Ron to the back of her mind and continues on her way to Ginny's hotel room.

Ginny's door opens after one knock, and an unexpectedly cheery bride emerges.

"Hermione? Hi!"

"Hi," says Hermione. "What's wrong?"

Looking confused, Ginny cracks the door wider to allow Hermione entry. "Nothing, why?"

"Nothing's wrong?" Flushing with anger, she takes a seat on Ginny's unmade bed. "Lavender just said you need me, and that it's urgent."

Ginny laughs. "Oh, you must have been with my brother."

"Well, yeah," stammers Hermione. "But only because we were working on wedding logistics and—"

"Relax, Hermione," says Ginny, laughing. "What else would you be doing? I'm just saying, Lavender probably said that so you'd leave her alone with Ron. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, of course," says Hermione, her heart pounding. Nothing to worry about. "What did she want to talk to Ron about?" she asks, her voice taking an uncharacteristically high tone.

Ginny shrugs. "Dunno, probably trying to seduce him," her words trail off as she patters to the bathroom with her makeup bag. "She has this elaborate plan to get him to take her back before the wedding."

"Oh," says Hermione softly, hoping Ginny can't hear the dejection of her voice from the bathroom.

"Yeah," says Ginny, poking her head back into the bedroom. Her eyes are twinkling with the opportunity for gossip. "You're coming to the bar tonight, right? We're keeping it pretty low-key. Don't want to overdo it before the hen party tomorrow."

"Uh yeah, I guess I am," says Hermione, immediately wondering if Ron… or Lavender will be there.

"Lavender probably won't be around tonight, if that gets you more excited to come," adds Ginny, aware of the hesitation in Hermione's voice. "She's gonna cling to my brother all night. She's so paranoid that he's sleeping with someone else."

"Someone else?" said Hermione, a little too shrilly. "They still sleep together?"

"Look at you, gossiping! I must be rubbing off on you," says Ginny proudly. "But yeah, they still sleep together all the time. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he took her back. He doesn't exactly have a lot of game," she pauses, contorting her face to apply a coat of mascara. "He's a good guy, don't get me wrong, but it's really just a confidence issue. Lavender makes him feel good about himself."

Hermione's breath hitches and her hands cramp, drawing her awareness to her vicious grip on Ginny's comforter. She releases her fingers, leaving sweaty palm prints on the blanket. Cute.

Her panic is still growing. Ron and Lavender still sleep together, and now she's with him at the bar. She's probably still in his lap with her mischievous fingers in his hair, and is he going to be able to resist her advances?

A knot in her stomach reminds Hermione that unfortunately, he has no good reason to turn her down. They said just as much at the bar: Ron and Hermione are married without the benefits. He's only human if he wants to find those benefits elsewhere.

She knows she could offer up some benefits, but there's one problem: Hermione's not one to have sex with someone she barely knows — regardless of what may or may not have happened the previous night. She can't just set aside that precedent simply to prevent someone else from sleeping with Ron. She has self-respect.

She closes her eyes and recalls Ron's hand gripping her lower back when he pressed his lips against hers. That kiss on the bridge was epically perfect, and the idea of Lavender getting to experience it regularly makes her sick.

According to Ginny, 'Lavender makes him feel good about himself.' She can make him feel good about himself too...

"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost," says Ginny, emerging from the bathroom with a perfectly made-up face, and a sexy black skirt and crop top combination that could make Harry a target of some lonely boy's jealous rage. Seriously, with that outfit, Harry should hire a security detail.

Hermione shakes her head to erase any telling expressions from her face. "When's the last time they slept together?"

"Um," says Ginny, stopping in her tracks. She looks confused and slightly suspicious. "I think they did the night we arrived in Vegas, but I'm not sure. I know Harry thought so. He keeps telling him to stop sleeping with her because he's just leading her on, but he's not exactly hard to convince, you know? He takes what he can get."

Hermione averts her eyes, which are now stinging with tears. "Do you think they'll get back together?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"Maybe. If they do, I don't think it'll be for long. It never is." Ginny takes one more scan of her outfit, adjusting her top in the mirror. "I'm ready to go! Are you?"

"Do you have any more clothes like that?" asks Hermione.

Ginny whips around to face her, a wide grin on her face. "Why, yes I do!"

"I just want to look good, you know," Hermione replies, unsure why she feels the need to justify it.

Ginny skips to her bag and fishes out a black minidress with lace accents and a deep, revealing v-neck — normally a little much for Hermione, but tonight, fuck it. "This one will surely get you some male attention, if that's what you want," she says giddily.

"Thanks, Gin," says Hermione, taking the dress from her. She holds it up against her body, wondering how much of her backside it'll actually cover. "That is what I want tonight."

Specifically from your brother, she adds to herself on her way to the bathroom to change.

x

Hermione follows closely behind Ginny, unable to mimic her confident strut as they clatter down the stairs. She keeps reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it down, only for it to pop back up again, revealing more thigh than she's willingly exposed in quite some time.

"You look great. Stop adjusting your dress," says Ginny.

"It's just so short—"

"Yeah. That's why you look great," Ginny reiterates with a cheeky smile. "I bet I won't be the only one who thinks so."

Hopefully, Ginny's right, and there will be lots of men at the bar distracted by Hermione's legs. Maybe — and it's a big maybe — Ron and Lavender will still be at their bar table, and Hermione will get to witness the look on Lavender's face when Ron does a double-take.

By the time they arrive at the bar, it has been fully transformed into a nightclub. The lights are dimmer, meaning the poor souls who chose to wear white now glow like bleach in blacklight. The music has shifted from ambient folk to pop hits remixed with a heavy bass, and half the tables have been cleared to make room for a dance floor.

Hermione feels a surge of anxiety in the new atmosphere — nightclubs aren't really her scene. She glances toward the corner of the bar where she had most recently been sitting with Ron, and her heart sinks. It's now occupied by another couple, unrecognizable by their pressed-together faces and empty cocktail glasses that obscure them from a clear view.

She scans the rest of the club, wishing another tuft of red hair would stand out to her, but aside from Ginny, there's no one.

"Hey Ginny! Hermione!" Demelza calls from a table across the dance floor. Hermione crosses the center of the room, ignoring the prickling paranoia that she's being watched — she feels so exposed walking through the open space in Ginny's black mini-dress.

Her heart flutters for a moment when she catches a glimpse of Demelza at the table, because she's surrounded by the boys. At least some of them — Harry, Neville and Dean are there, but unfortunately, no Ron.

Lavender is nowhere to be seen either, a realization that sits like a brick in Hermione's stomach.

"Gin, I forgot my I.D. in my room, I'll be a moment," she says, tugging her hand away from Ginny's.

"Alright, catch ya later," says Ginny, skipping off to meet Demelza.

Hermione turns on her heel and shuffles out of the bar, trying not to cry. She has no reason to be upset — Ron's not hers to lay claim on. Unfortunately, that fact only reminds her that he's not Lavender's either, yet they're together, even though Hermione has every right to be in Ron's bed as Lavender does.

She brushes right past her floor — she didn't actually leave her I.D. behind — and makes a beeline for Ron's room, completely forgetting to prepare an excuse for barging in on him. Hermione just wants information, and with an unexpected entrance, she's bound to get some.

But she doesn't interrupt anything. It's too late for that. Her heart sinks when she rounds the corner and sees Lavender slipping out of Ron's room. Lavender locks eyes with Hermione as the door closes softly behind her, and she makes a show of fastening up the remaining buttons on her blouse.

"Looking for Ron?" Her tone of false innocence makes Hermione's blood boil.

Hermione opens her mouth to respond, but she can't think of a retort. Her dumbstruck silence brings a smug smile to Lavender's face.

"Give him a chance to get dressed first," Lavender says as she trots past Hermione down the hallway.

Fuming, Hermione storms toward Ron's door, her fist raised to knock, but something stops her. What will she say? She has no plan.

Hermione imagines Ron opening the door and seeing her puffy, red face, shiny with tears. She doesn't exactly look cute, and by no stretch of her imagination would her current appearance cause Ron to wish she was the one trotting down the hallway with a half-buttoned blouse. Not only that — she managed to make it through the entire afternoon without admitting her crush, but her current state of deranged jealousy is a dead giveaway.

If he sees her now, he'll know just how meaningful for her that kiss on the bridge was. He might suspect that her quiet distraction on the journey back had less to do with the sweltering heat, and more to do with her salacious imagination. He'd be right, but he doesn't need to know that. He doesn't need to discover that her nonchalant attitude at the bar was just an act — an embarrassing attempt to play it coy. Turns out her effort to keep him guessing was all for nothing; there's no point in playing hard-to-get with someone who's not even interested.

Clearly, his affection for her is platonic at best, nonexistent at worst. He brought Lavender up to his bedroom minutes after she rudely interrupted their conversation. If Lavender's his type, Hermione most likely isn't, and a confrontation would only confirm one thing: he's rejected her.

Why give him the satisfaction?

Frustrated, Hermione jerks her hand from the door, and backs away. There's another option here, and at the moment, it's a lot more appealing. She wipes her eyes and turns her back to Ron's door, now determined to show him that she doesn't care if he wastes his time on Lavender Brown. She doesn't care one bit.

But she might need to stop by her room first, if only to splash cold water over her face.

x

Moments later, Hermione shuffles down the hotel stairs on her way back to the bar. A glimpse of her newly made-up face in the mirror fills her with a new appreciation for foundation and eyeliner. Asinine as it might be, it's quite effective at hiding evidence of tears. And now that she looks like someone else, it won't be much of a leap to act like someone else either.

She pauses at the bar's entrance and takes a deep breath, hesitant to enter. In her absence, the lights have gotten dimmer, the music louder, and the dance floor busier. She has considered sticking with a tried-and-true method of wallowing — hibernating in her hotel room with some snacks and a cheesy movie, and projecting her tragic love life into the tropes of a romantic comedy. Clubs aren't normally her scene, anyway.

But unfortunately, tonight is not a normal night, and her life is definitely not a romantic comedy, so Hermione forces herself to pass into the thick wall of steamy club-air to reunite with the one Weasley that actually matters to her.

It doesn't take long for her to find Ginny on the dance floor — her glowing complexion and elegant red mane stand out in the crowd. It helps that she's accompanied by Luna, whose neon dress and platinum hair give her the appearance of a yellow highlighter.

Watching them dance, Hermione can't help but crack a smile. Ginny's in her element, singing along to a remix of some pop song and radiating with a self-assuredness that's contagious. And Luna has no worries in the world, no concern for the judgmental looks of passers-by as she bounces and waves eccentrically, convulsing to the beat of the music. Her wild movements remind Hermione of an inflatable tube man, dancing in the wind beside the highway.

Luna's a lot, but tonight, the effect is quite pleasant. It's comforting to know that by comparison, Hermione might even look cool in this club.

Ginny spots Hermione and squeals in excitement as she rushes to hug her. "Hey, did you get your I.D.?"

"Yep," says Hermione sharply. "And now I need a drink."

"I'm getting the next round, Hermione," says a male voice from the table. Neville — bless his heart — is smiling and waving at her. "What'll you have?"

"Surprise me, but make it strong!" She tosses her bag to him and he catches it, but not without a fumble.

"Anything?" he clarifies, fishing for her I.D.

"Anything." She doesn't even care if it comes with a straw.

"Attagirl," says Ginny, interlacing their hands, and tugging her toward the thickening crowd of the dance floor.

She obliges, following Ginny's lead, and is once again aware that she's being watched. Normally, it would creep her out to catch a man's eyes lingering on her body, but again, tonight is no longer a normal night, and it's nice to be noticed. Hermione feels appreciated, and not in a platonic marriage-with-no-benefits kind of way.

At the thought of Ron, she glances back to the bar's entrance, scanning the mass of incomers for his flaming hair. Hermione doesn't even want to see his stupid freckled face in the crowd, but for some reason, his absence leaves her more disappointed than relieved. She internally curses that ginger devil; how can someone so undeserving of her attention occupy so much of her mental space?

To the best of her ability, she powers through her disappointment and turns her focus back to Ginny and Luna, right as a dancing Demelza staggers up to them. A few whistles and whoops from the growing crowd bring a blush to Hermione's cheeks. Fuck it — she's in Vegas, she looks hot as hell, and she could have anyone she wants.

Maybe someone else will catch her eye tonight.

[the-lonely-tree-original]

Hello Once More (Killua x Gon)

Summary: Sometime after their separation, Killua and Gon meet once more. But being on the run from Illumi is hard, and Killua’s gone through measures to make sure people wouldn’t recognize him, even Gon.

***

It was a masquerade dance. One with bright colors and lavish decorations and everything expected from one of the richest hunters in the world. People were dressed in sharp, cleanly pressed suits and long, expert-woven gowns. Suits and dresses were fatuous, however, to the ornate masks that sat upon the guests’ heads. Some were embroidered with the thread of their homeland, others with precious jewels. Each hid a joyful face under the decorated material.

A boy of black hair and blue eyes found himself wearing one of these masks, a crystalline blue sort of color with white beads in a seemingly erratic pattern. His brand new suit became rumpled as he was zipped around disgruntled hunters and their companions by the firm hand of his little sister.

“Hey! Hey, Stop!”

The girl did end up stopping and turned around, a bright smile spreading across her youthful face. “Onii-chan, stop complaining. You promised you would enjoy this for me.”

Killua let out a long suffering sigh, the corners of his mouth eventually molding their way into a quirky smile as well. “I was enjoying it. I was enjoying watching you dance from the sidelines. I can continue to enjoy it from there.”

“Not on my watch. I’m not letting you leave this floor until you’ve danced at least once.” Alluka accentuated her point by giving her dress a little twirl, the movement drawing attention from prying eyes around the room. If Killua’s outfit was extravagant, then Alluka’s was downright ostentatious, the pink folds of her dress covered by a sheer golden sash, making it seem as if she had been wrapped in a glittering sunrise. She wore white, pristine gloves on her hands and brown woven flats on her feet. What she lacked in jewelry, her hair made up for. Long, shing black strands were curled into tight curls that rested on the top of her head in a flowery bun, two loose coils intertwined with golden thread and the beads she and Nanika were so fond of sat upon her chest.

Killua let himself be dragged off, only because he didn’t want anyone to try anything on his baby sister, but someone else had other plans in mind.

“Excuse me!”

Killua whirled around at the voice. The warm and pleasant voice. The achingly familiar voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I steal this dance?”

He may have been wearing different clothes and had a mask covering half of his face, but that was Gon. He knew it was. Killua had recognized it from the voice, the charming and comforting voice. Staring at him now, even if his hair had been dyed a new color and his voice had gone a tone deeper like Killua’s had, those honey-brown eyes would have been unforgettable. Keeping his hair a black-green color and only reaching a few inches taller? The familiarity was uncanny.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Killua stood aside. No matter how much he wanted to throw off his mask and greet his friend in a hug, he couldn’t. There was no telling what connections his brother had. If he revealed himself here, it would only be seconds before he was seized and dragged home. Gon had asked his sister to dance. He could sit back down and watch from afar once more. She’d be safe in his hands. And, if Killua was being honest with himself, it would hurt a little less too.

Gon, precious, radiant Gon, reached his hand to his neck in a nervous gesture. “So, uhm… is that a no?”

Killua felt two hands in the small of his back, and suddenly found himself pressed against a firm body.

“It’s a yes,” Alluka’s voice rang out from behind. “Sorry about that, big brother’s just a little slow with people sometimes.”

“Hey-” Killua began, but cut himself short. Gon was smiling. It was a big, shining smile, and Killua found himself involuntarily relaxing just a little.

“Great! Thank you very much!” The words were directed towards his sister, and before he knew it, he’d been whisked away to the middle of the dance floor.

They adjusted themselves awkwardly, it being clear that neither of them had any experience dancing with another male. Eventually they found themselves in a position with Gon’s arms wrapped around Killua’s waist and the latter’s around Gon’s neck. Meeting each other at eye level, that sleight height difference Killua had once been so proud of now tied by the milimeter, Killua was able to get a good look at the mask. It was an earthy green, very simple compared to the ones he’d seen on everyone else. Killua amused himself with the realization that his best friend never escaped the colors of his youth, even while he stood before him in a black and white suit - though, Killua’s mask was of white and blues, so he couldn’t say much about himself either.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

The comment startled Killua, sending him reeling backwards with the embarrassed flush he’d thought he’d left behind.

“W-why would you say that?”

“Because they are.” Gon closed the distance between them and raised a hand to rest it on the side of his head, fingers absentmindedly flicking up black-dyed hair. “They’re really pretty. Like the color of the ocean on a clear day. Actually,” he paused here, an embarrassed flush making its way up his face for once, “they remind me of someone I know.”

“They do?” Killua leaned forward in interest. He knew that he was a big part of Gon’s life, even if the other never felt the same way that he felt about him, and he knew that he must have crossed Gon’s mind at least once, but the other boy had thought his eyes pretty. Did he dare hope…

“Yeah. He has eyes just like yours. Actually, I only really came to this party in the first place to find him. I thought I heard him earlier, but I guess I was wrong.” Gon’s voice faded into a disappointed tone at the end. A tone that he recognized in his own voice whenever he talked about his friend. Killua wanted to grab his shoulders. He wanted to grab his shoulders and shake them and scream, ‘I’m right here, you idiot’ till the sentence was ingrained in Gon’s mind. But he knew he couldn’t. Not when people could be watching. Not when they could take Alluka and him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, caught in between the line of meaning it and not. “I’m sure he’ll be here eventually.”

Gon looked at him, long and hard but not seeing. “I don’t know. It was a long shot anyways. He’s been off the maps for a while, so I don’t really know what I was expecting.”

Killua swallowed. This wasn’t Gon. Gon wasn’t sad like this. Gon was upbeat and positive and if he couldn’t be that, then he was a burning ball of anger waiting to explode. Gon wasn’t… resigned.

The former assassin changed the subject, hoping to change the mood to something somewhat lighter. “Oh, I see. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you ever ask me…”

“Ask you to dance?”

Killua nodded.

“Hmmmm... I don’t know. It was just a feeling… I think.”

“You think?”

“You remind me of my special person. That’s all.”

Special person. Special person. Did that mean Killua was his special person? Killua turned his head, looking around the room to find Alluka, to confirm if what he was hearing seeing was real.

Gon continued, oblivious to his internal strife. “You really do sound like him at times, you see. It’s like your voices are exactly the same… and then, and then they’re not.”

Killua knew that Gon was thick headed, to not have realized who he really was even with all these things he’d picked up on. To instead find him and think that he was nothing more than a similarity. Gon never mentioned who he was though, so maybe, maybe if he left a vague enough answer, he would be able to piece together everything without Killua having to reveal anything at all. 

“That’s why I asked you to dance. Cause I thought I heard him. I thought maybe you were him.” It was an honest answer, one that got straight to the point and didn’t waste time sugarcoating anything with meaningless compliments. But, if what he was saying was true, then that meant that Gon would have asked him to dance anyways. Because of who he was. Something about that realization sent his heart hammering in his ribs, giddy energy rising up inside him. “Even if you aren’t him… you look enough like him that I still want to be with you. For this dance.”

There was silence then, the only noise being the crowd’s amicable chatter and slow music flowing from the performance upstage.

“If I’m being honest,” Killua began, “You remind me of someone special to me too.”

“I do?”

Their roles were reversed. This time it was Gon with the hopeful and curious tone to his voice and Killua with resignation in his, only that Killua was completely aware of who the stranger really was.

“Yeah. He means a lot to me. He was the person who taught me to let other people in and to care about them in return. I think it’s safe to say that he was my first friend.”

Something of an understanding was beginning to flicker in Gon’s eyes, and Killua smiled at the slow process of him putting the dots together. Before Gon could reach complete clarity, before he could open his mouth and shout his name to the crowd, Killua closed the distance between their faces and connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

Not even a year ago, even with Gon by his side professing their friendship everyday, could Killua have ever done this before. Mortification wouldn’t even have the chance to reach him because the kiss would have never happened. He’d never had the self-worth to believe something good could come out of a reckless and selfish decision like that.

Their journey together and the distance between them had changed him, though. And now with his lips caught in a bruising force against Gon’s, the taste of chocolate and citrus blending together on their tongues, Killua couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision.

Their dancing had slowed to a stop, and instead they stood, molded into each other with their arms intertwined on each other's hips, making up for all the time they’d missed.

I’m sorry.

I missed you.

I love you.

When their breath had run out and their legs turned weak, the kiss broke off. The two boys separated and stared, breathless, into eachothers’ eyes. Gon closed the gap a second time, not to go for another kiss, but to rest their foreheads together. The gesture was so childish and sweet and so like Gon that Killua found himself bearing a true, beaming smile for the first time that evening.

“Killu-” Gon began, but before he could even finish the word, Killua interrupted with words of his own.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gon.”