#her shows continue and those who bought a ticket can still attend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

michiieewrites · 4 years

Text

THORST COLLAB: Bakugou - Starving till I tasted you

A/N: First: IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BEGONE FROM MY BLOG SINCE I WRITE MATURE CONTENT!! This one has been sitting in my documents for almost 2 months now. This week inspiration finally struck me once again tho!

This fic is actually a Thorst Collab between my lovely friends & I on Discord. I’m the first one to post mine, so I can’t wait to see what the others will write!

Now.

STRAP ON YOUR SEATBELTS CAUSE THIS MOTHERF!@#$%CKER IS 4.2K+ WORDS LONG

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone told you a year ago that you would have enough money to pay off your student debt, buy your dream apartment, help out your family and friends, move abroad and drive in a ’67 Chevrolet Impala, you would’ve died laughing at the joke.

You told yourself it was stupid, buying that lottery ticket. But here you are; $100.000.000,- on your bank account. A young and now rich Omega in her prime. After making sure you had spend part of it wisely, you made sure to live the rest of your life on interest alone.

The first month had been nice. Decorating your new place, going out for dinner every day, getting a new wardrobe, spoiling yourself silly. You got new nesting materials, softer blankets and bigger pillows. It felt nice. Until it didn’t anymore. It started to feel pointless and empty. You felt like you were becoming one of those people that flaunt their money and that isn’t the type of Omega you are.

So here you are. Sitting in your peach colored dress and a numbered paddle in your hand. Tonight, you attend a charity auction. The charity was a rehabilitation program for criminals who want to get back on the right path.

The auction items aren’t exactly… items. They’re Pro Heroes. People could bid on having a date with some of the most desirable Pro Heroes, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, all of them. Even No. 1 hero Deku and No. 4 hero Red Riot are up for auction, both being Omegas.

One of the last dates are being auctioned and you realize you have been zoning out. Not having bid anything yet, you put up your paddle.

“Going once, going twice… SOLD TO NUMBER 917 FOR TONIGHT’S HIGHEST BID OF $300.000,-! A date with explosion pro hero Ground Zero!”

Oh lord. Yes! You got- wait… You got actually got it? You won a date with Pro Hero Ground Zero. Wasn’t he the one with the explosion quirk? Impressive power and always capturing the villains. What separates him from Deku is his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise. Ground Zero isn’t really the type of hero to stick around the people he saved to see if they’re okay.

On top of all that he’s also an Alpha. Highly sought out by Omegas who want a pup, but not the Alpha. His genes are what people want, not the man himself. His personality also making it harder for people to approach him. And you just won a date with the most desired and aggressive Pro Hero Alpha there is.

“Oi!”

The voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. The subtle scent of caramelized candy apples caught your attention. You turn around and find a handsome Alpha standing there. Arms crossed, cardinal red eyes watching you and his lips in an almost angry looking pout. This is the man you just bought yourself a date with.

“H-hi!” you manage to stammer out.

With a huff, he places a card on your table. You pick it up and see that it’s a business card from Ground Zero’s agency. At the bottom, writing in sleek handwriting, is a phone number. You look back up at him, ready to ask him why he gave this to you. But he’s already turning around and heading for the exit.

“Just contact me when you wanna plan that date things.”

And just like that, you had Ground Zero’s personal phone number.

~ A few days later ~

You’re sitting at a small booth, sipping on your matcha latte. You were a half hour too early, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and order a drink before Bakugou would arrive. In his very first text he made it clear to call him ‘Bakugou’ and not by his hero name. He said that it would feel too much like an interview otherwise. In return you told him to just call you ‘Y/N’.

After some back and forth texting the last couple of days, you two agreed to meet up at a local coffee shop. Not a lot of people know about this shop. It’s small and the interior looks more like cozy living room than a flashy coffee shop. It was your favorite place to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee, tea or like right now, matcha latte.

Neither of you had any set plans for the rest of the day. Just kind of going with the flow seemed like the way to go. This would give you the freedom to hopefully have a quiet ‘date’. But you can’t really know that for sure when the person you’re on a date with is a Pro Hero.

The sound of the bell above the front door rings. You look up and see him walk in. Sitting all the way in the back, you can’t even smell him scent. Weren’t Alpha’s supposed to have very strong scents? Maybe he’s on suppressants?

He scans the shop, probably looking for you. His eyes land on you. He walks over and sits across from you. He leans back against the chair and swings his right arm over the arm rest while the left one is resting on the table. His eyes trail down from your face to the drink in your hands.

“I see you couldn’t wait for me to arrive,” he gruffly says.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Sorry, I was super early. I hope you don’t mind.”

The silence that spreads between you two makes your Omega feel uncomfortable. Something doesn’t feel right and you’re starting to think that the Alpha in front of you truly doesn’t want to do any of this. So, to make it a little more bearable for yourself, you pump out a small amount of calming pheromones. Just to take the edge of this meeting.

Bakugou keeps looking at you. Until he finally picks up the menu card and says: “It’s fine. It’s your day, after all.”

He was right, you figured. But you still wanted him to have a pleasant time today too.

And so the day continues. The conversation isn’t very lengthy or deep. You discuss basic things like work, hobbies, favorite food. After a while the conversation kind of dies down. You suggest you two head out and into town. The man in front of you doesn’t seem overly thrilled about it, but still agrees.

When you go up to the front to pay, you hear him quickly walking up to you. He pulls your arm back. Surprised, you let out a small sound of shock and look up at him. A confused look is on his face and he pulls his hand away from you.

“The heck are you trying to do?”

Confused, you say: “Uh, paying?”

“I see that, but why? Omegas don’t pay when they’re with Alphas.”

Wow. At first you didn’t know how to respond to this remark. True, Omegas usually aren’t the ones paying on dates. In the past an Alpha would go out and hunt for their Omega. Since the hunting days are over and many Omegas work nowadays, treating them on dates are a way to show the Omega they can provide for them.

“Well,” you say as you hand over the money to the Beta barista behind the counter and thank him, “I don’t know about other Omegas, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for drinks too. I can provide just as well as any Alpha.”

You two walk outside and turn left to head into town. You’ve been meaning to go to the bookstore and hopefully find some new reading material. Two birds, one stone, right?

“Tsk, should’ve known a rich Omega like you doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Bakugou mumbles to himself.

You stop in your tracks. What? Was that really what he thought of you? A rich and snobby Omega?

Realizing you’re not walking beside him anymore, Bakugou turns around. Your head is bowed in shame. Normally your scent smells like peaches and hazelnuts, but now it turns into that of rotten fruit. You feel called out. For winning the lottery, for treating this Alpha to some drinks, for basically buying yourself a date with someone who clearly wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Your voice shakes, but you gather all your courage. “I’ll admit I was given a lot more financial freedom recently. And yes, I don’t like being told what to do. I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their second gender. But I have never in my life asked for something. I was taught to work hard, to help people and to help and reward the people that help you.”

You pick up your head and look him straight in the eyes, politely smile and say: “I’m sorry you had to do this. This isn’t really how you planned your day would go. You can go, if you want to.”

As you pass him, determent to still go to the bookstore, you feel a weight being lifted from your heart. It really is unfair to the Alpha to make him go on a date with someone he doesn’t like. Deep down inside your Omega whines sadly. She recognized a good and safe provider in the Alpha, one who isn’t driven by hormones to just get an Omega pregnant. One who isn’t controlled their Alpha status. Too bad his Alpha isn’t interested in the Omega.

“Fuck, crap- wait! Shit!”

The cursing Alpha quickly catches up to you. He stops in front of you, holding up his hands to halt you. “Okay, fuck-just… let me explain.”

You cross your arms at him and wait for him to continue.

“Okay, so… Listen, I’ve been a real dick to you. Not just today, but basically since that charity event when I gave you my card. It was wrong of me assume anything about you. Shit Y/N, you’ve been nothing but nice to me. You don’t mind carrying the cost of a date, you’re not flaunting it around town that you’re spending time with a Pro Hero, you put up with my shitty responses and that isn’t how you should be treated. Or anyone for that matter! You deserve a proper date. So just, maybe I can make it up to you?”

By the end of his apology, Bakugou practically gives you angry puppy eyes in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. He reminds you of an angry Pomeranian. Smiling, you tell him that you forgive him. This day is supposed to be a fun one.

“But! You’ll have to carry the books I’ll buy as a punishment. And just so you know, I always come out with two shopping bags,” you tell him.

Bakugou just grins. “Fine. They’ll probably weigh nothing for me.”

Something in the air changes. A little sniff of your nose helps you identify the change. The scent coming from the Alpha next to you is slightly peaked. You heard that when an Alpha is preening their scents get stronger. You hardly think that’s the reason. Maybe it’s just because he’s in better mood now. Whatever the reason, you find yourself agreeing with your Omega; it’s a very nice scent.

~ An hour and a half later ~

“I’ve never met someone who spends over an hour inside a bookstore!”

“I told you when we came in that it could take a while,” you reply to Bakugou’s complaints.

“You do this with nesting stuff too? You know, blankets and shit,” he asks.

In both his hands, Bakugou is carrying a bag containing close to twenty books you can add to your bookcases back at home. Even underneath the sleeves of his hoodie you can see the muscles of his arms. He’s not as bulky as Pro Heroes Deku and Red Riot, but those muscles are pretty impressive. You bet your money that those thighs could squish a watermelon. You can practically feel the water filling your Omega’s mouth. She wants nothing more than to chomp down on those delicious shoulders. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind that either.

You remember you were asked a question. “I do. How else am I gonna know I made the right choice? All of those blankets and shit, as you put it, go in my nest. I’m at my best with a perfect nest.” A confident smile forms on your face and from the corner of your eye you can see Bakugou looking at you. A small smirk creeps up on his face.

While enjoying our little banter, you both failed to notice the Alpha towards the two of you. Until he opened his mouth. “I bet I can make your nest even better, little Omega.”

The other guy stops right in front of you, completely ignoring the Alpha next to you. You’re shocked and take a step back to create some distance between you again. But the guy doesn’t let up and steps closer again.

“No, now get lost,” you firmly say. This wasn’t the first Alpha-asshole you encountered.

“Awh, why the sour face, baby? Bet I’ll be more fun than the hedgehog here.”

“Oi, asshole! She said to get lost.” The smells of pheromones of two Alphas are dominating the air. The strongest one being the creepy guy, Bakugou’s not so much. You honestly confused on that point. With an Alpha as desirable as Bakugou, you truly expected a stronger scent.

You can’t help but release your own distressed scent. The tension is getting to you. Even other people noticed and are stopping to see how this plays out.

The creep briefly looks at Bakugou before returning his attention on you. “Come on, baby. Ditch this guy and then you and I can have our fun. What do you say?”

He extends his hand to put it on our waist and before you know it, you slap his hand away and punch him in the face. He stumbles back while cupping his now bleeding nose. Screaming in pain and shouting names at you. He’s beyond pissed; punched by a fucking Omega!

The adrenaline is pumping through you and every instinct in your body is telling you to run. Hide. Find an Alpha to protect you. You’re frozen on the spot. Your mind shutting down.

That’s when you feel a hand tugging you away. Your Omega recognizes the person this scent belongs to. Caramel candy apples. Bakugou.

You don’t know where he’s taking you. Your mind still processing things. All you know is to follow. ‘Cause he’ll lead to safety. Alphas keep Omegas safe. Follow. Safety. Alpha.

By the time you get to take in your surroundings, you realize you’re in an office. An office? What are you doing here? You look around and see a wooden desk with a black leather chair. A small bookcase, a closet and a couch with coffee table. A puffy black rug is covering the wooden floor, complimenting the one black wall behind you. The other walls are a tinted orange color.

The scent hanging in this office is… comforting. Soothing. Safe. You’re safe in here.

You’re seated on the couch. Wrapped in something soft. A blanket. A big, fluffy and soft blanket. The scent is even stronger on the blanket. You slowly inhale, imprinting this delicious mix of sweetness. After a couple seconds you finally notice the man next to you. Bakugou grins as he sees your focus shifting to him.

“I take it the blanket is approved,” he jokes.

You slowly nod. This small little cocoon makes you feel less vulnerable. Just like the presence of Bakugou next to you. It feels right. “Where are we?”

“Oh yeah, fuck. We’re at my agency. This is my office.”

You’re confused. “Your office? Why? I’m sorry, I kind of… froze. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”

The smile that spreads on his face makes you feel funny inside. “What happened?! Y/N, you punched that fucker right in his fucking face! Shithead had it coming, tho. You just beat me to it. Omega or not, you know how to fight.”

You two look at each other and burst out laughing as you think back to that glorious moment. The creep definitely didn’t see your punch coming. It feels good to know the man next to you thinks you’re a decent fighter. He seems to actually be enjoying your company. Maybe he’s one of those people that are careful with who they get comfortable with. It feels good to know he feels like he can relax a bit more around you now.

You jokingly nudge him and say: “I bet I can even take you on, you big grump.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow is raised, grinning with his canines on display. “Prove it then.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you keep your eyes fixed on his cardinal ones and slowly lean in closer. Baring your neck to the side in submission to lure in his Alpha. Your Omega is very pleased by the motion. Just as he moves to lean in too, you throw the blanket in his face, grab his neck and shove him down on the ground. Stradling him and jabbing your elbow into his side, pressing your nails into the skin of his neck.

Smiling down at the man below you; “How’s that, Alpha?”

A short lived victory as he snarls and the two of you roll over, with Bakugou keeping you pinned underneath his weight. He may not look like it, but this man weighs a ton!

“If you’re trying to be a worthy opponent, why not call me by my first name? It’s ‘Katsuki’,” he breathes heavily atop of you.

Next to your ear you hear a low grumbling sound. Still seeing this as a playfight you laugh and reach back. Your fingers finding pressure points in his neck, making him let go of you. This gives you the chance to overpower him again and straddle him once more while holding his wrists above his head.

Victorious once again, you look down. Growling and teeth bared, the air around you growing thick. The smell surrounding you hits you like thunder. The caramelized candy apple scent overwhelming your senses. Your eyes travel down to his neck and see something you failed to notice before; gland patches. Patches to block someone’s scent from becoming too noticeable. That’s why the other Alpha smelled so much stronger. But now, now you’re drowning in it. You can pick up on rage, possessiveness and… arousal. As much as he’s growling and snarling at you, you know that he’s enjoying this too.

Chuckling at you, he cranes his neck. His face now closer to you than a moment ago. “I’m pretty sure I just got my ass handed by the most perfect Omega.” His words push through the alarm bells his instincts are sending off. His Alpha is not pleased about being pinned down. But as it takes in the Omega’s scent of peaches and hazelnuts, it can’t help but lie down and surrender itself to this tasty smelling Omega. An Omega that can fight back. An Omega that can hold him close. An Omega worthy of carrying his pups.

His Omega.

Before either can properly get out any words Bakugou has wrestled his hands free and grabs a hold of your hips while your hands pull his face closer and seal the distance between your lips. The taste of sugar coated apples is even stronger on his lips and you can’t get enough of it.

His fingers press deeply in your skin, kneading the flesh. His hips pushing upwards while holding you in place. The low rumbling sound in the back of his throat being accompanied by your mewling. You wanted more of him, your Omega needed more.

The Alpha makes his displeasure heard. You both part to breathe in fresh air. His lidded eyes are on fire and following every movement you make. Your hands slip down to his collarbones and settle on his shoulders. The path of your hands make Bakugou throw back his head. His body is pressing into yours desperately, like he has no control over it anymore. His growling increases in volume.

Through gritted teeth he manages to speak to you. “Fuck, Omega. What are you doing to me?”

Taking a leap of faith, you answer: “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I need capable Alpha to take care of me. Are you that Alpha, Katsuki?”

Before you can even blink, you’re being rolled over again. This time you’ll let him have his way. His hands are sliding their way up to your chest, grabbing the front of your shirt and tearing it apart. You try to protest, but you’re stopped by the warning growl of his Alpha. You lay back down and occupy yourself with running your fingers through his hair. Your gently massage making the Alpha let out a content sound.

Entranced by the man above you, you hardly even notice his onslaught on your clothes. And his own clothes. Getting those replaced will be a worry for later, your Omega decide. All you need to focus on right now is Katsuki. You want this Alpha to mate you and it needs to happen right now, or else your Omega just might perish on the spot.

That’s when you feel it. The hard and heavy feeling of his cock rutting itself against your core. Your body can’t help but react to it and release a good amount of slick. Katsuki’s mouth nipping along your collarbones as your bare you neck in submission. You feel his fangs graze your scent glands and you start to whimper desperately.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep making those pretty noises,” Katsuki says.

“Yes, Alpha, yes. Just-ah shit! Just fuck me already!” you loudly exclaim.

Now who is Katsuki to deny such a nice plea from such a good Omega?

Wasting no time, he slides himself inside. The stretch making you cry out for more, deeper, more, anything he can give you. You just know you need more. Barely able to hold himself back from ramming himself inside and fucking you like you’re in a heat, he takes his time for your to fully take him in. A sigh of satisfaction leaves you both when he finally does.

Your legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him deeper in. Your fingers curl around his spikey locks and tug harshly to get him moving. Grunting, Katsuki finally complies. Being buried inside you sends him into over-drive. You feel too damn good around him. He feels too good inside you as he sets in a brutal rhythm. You’re pretty sure no other man could ever make you feel this good. No other Alpha could ever please your Omega ever again. Feeling his body slam into yours like his life depends on it is possibly the best feeling in the world. Your lungs are sending out a mix of his name, pleas for more, for him to go faster.

Katsuki can’t help it, he can’t stop himself anymore. He need to do this, he needs you, his Alpha needs to mate your Omega. Give her everything she wants and all that she’ll take. Only the best for his Omega, he will be worthy of giving her pups.

You can feel the base of his cock starting to inflate. His knot. His knot is growing. As soon as you notice, you start to claw at his back. A need filling you till the point you’re almost bursting.

“Alpha! Knot, please- Alpha, knot me- I need- Need your knot, Alpha!” you scream in desperation.

He wants to. Oh, he wants to so badly. But in the back of his mind there’s one braincell left that tells him that now is not the time nor the place. His Omega deserves better.

“You deserve better than to be knotted in my office, Y/N,” he moans, “please give me a chance to give you something better one day. I’ll be the best fucking Alpha there is!”

You love the sound of that. Something better. Somewhere in the future. A future with Katsuki. “Yes, Kastuki! Only you, you’re the only Alpha, please, I’m so cl-“

The moment he sinks his teeth into the flesh just above your collarbone, you’re send into a world of blinding lights and exploding fire. His name keeps falling from your lips. The waves of fire keep pulsing through your body.

The tight grip around him becomes too much for Katsuki. He needs to pull out or else he’ll knot you for sure. When he you keep chanting his name, he pulls out and covers you in thick, long, white streams of his cum. Covering you in his seed, marking you as his in an obscene, but beautiful way.

“Look at you, perfectly covered in my cum,” he pants.

You preen at the compliment. A content scent is released. The smell of a happily fucked Omega. Katsuki could get addicted to this smell.

With the shredded pieces of clothing he cleans you up. He pulls the blanket you discarded earlier over you both as he lies down next to you. Your tired and warm body cuddles closer to him. He drinks in your scent a you purr softly.

“What did you have the blanket for in your office?” you ask with a yawn.

Katsuki looks down at your half-asleep face. A smile forms on his lips as he gently kisses the top of your head.

“I kept it for my future mate.”

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @hipster-merchant-of-death @aizawascumslut @strawbirb @ravenfeet222 @sailor-manga @yanderart @league-of-villians-headcanons

#bnha #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou x reader #michiiee writes #bnha smut #bnha a/b/o #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bakugou x reader #plus ultra #bakugou fic #bakugou smut

4K notes · View notes

hes-writer · 3 years

Text

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

642 notes · View notes

lovethisletters · 3 years

Text

Devilish nights || A fantastic 3 one-shot!

I love this idea ngl, I love the dynamic between the three of them! And I tried to do them justice here but... there's definitely a Whole ass ranch for improvement... :C

also Diavolo is Mexa xd

Summary: the fantastic three go to a concert but things don't go as planned.

Additional notes: I was going to make this a comic but decided against it since it was gonna take me much more time to finish it, but perhaps I'll do it as a small follow up to this one-shot.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

There's a reason why the Demon elite are very protective of their private life...you see: everyone has a side of their personality only the ones closest to us are allowed to see and for the demon prince, the avatar of pride and the loyal butler this is no exception.

—Uhhh?!?! You're going out?!!—all 6 brothers questioned in surprise.

—Yes, and I hope that when I arrive, the house is not a mess!— Replied the avatar of pride as he placed a distinctive blue coat over his shoulders.

—Ehhh? Are you going on vacation to the human realm, Lucifer ?! And without me ?! How cruel!—Asmodeus inquired dramatically, hugging his older brother's arm like a child begging his mother to go out and play.

The black-haired demon was unfazed by the avatar of lust childish demeanor, released himself from his grasp with ease and continued with his speech.

—Diavolo has important matters to resolve in the human realm and he needs me and Barbatos to support him, it is not a vacation.—

—I hope all of you behave in my absence; Satan, you're in charge, ”Lucifer declared.

-What?!?! Satan in charge ?! - the rest complained.

—As much as it bothers me to admit it… Satan is the most responsible among you — Lucifer looked at the blonde demon in the eyes — I'm counting on you — and the avatar of pride came out hurriedly before he could even hear the answer of the fourth brother.

—Don't— whispered the avatar of wrath as his lips settled into a sinister smile at the plan that was being formulated in his head.

[…]

—Ahhh ~ finally it's THE day! I can't wait any longer !!!— upon hearing the title "prince of hell" we could normally assume that the person bearing it is someone intimidating, ruthless and rude; but there he was ... the heir to the throne of the Devildom jumping all over the place with immeasurable enthusiasm, glow sticks in each hand and a white shirt with the image of a sun with the face of Luis Miguel on the chest.

—Diavolo, I'd appreciate it if you could calm down a bit.

—Calm down?! Lucifer! I have been waiting for this for years! I will finally be able to be at a concert of my favorite singer from the human realm! Do you have any idea how much I struggled to get these tickets?!?! I had to do it the human way! line and everything!—The redhead claimed at the lack of enthusiasm from his best friend.

—His majesty stopped time and he moved a couple of old ladies to be able to acquire the tickets in the front row; it would be appreciated if you showed a bit of enthusiasm, Lucifer.—Barbatos finally spoke, the same formal and cold smile always etched on his face to which Lucifer could only replay in the same way.

—Oh! I won't let you two ruin my night with your formalities! At least pretend you're as excited as I am!—Diavolo begged but his stoic companions could only mutter a mocking “yeeei”as they waved their respective glow sticks reluctantly and the prince of hell could only roll his eyes.

[…]

Mistakes happen, they happen when we least expect them and even worse; at too inconvenient moments.

—Quick, Lucifer, we're next!— The tallest of the 3 hurried, still jumping up and down.

—Give me a second — The black-haired demon searched in his pockets for the tickets that Diavolo had asked him to keep until the day of the concert because he was afraid of losing them among all the paperwork that week and knowing the responsible nature of his friend he entrusted them to him .

The thing is ... Lucifer could not find the tickets ... and when he realized this, with all the tranquility of the world: he cleared his throat, clasped his hands and positioned himself firmly like a teacher about to explain something to a child .

—Diavolo, in terms of tickets… I forgot the ttickets— At first the prince of hell gave his friend an incredulous look and even proceeded to laugh.

—Sure, stop playing games, Lucifer— the redhead expected a laugh from his friend followed by him handing over the tickets, but that gesture never came.

—Your Majesty I think Lucifer is not joking— Barbatos corrected

And oh my god, have you ever seen a child's face when you take a toy that he just can’t have out of his hands? And then the endless crying begins? Yes, at that moment the heir to the throne of hell simply bursted in tears.

—It’s Okay, your majesty, everything is going to be fine— The butler tried to calm him down by patting him on the back.

—Diavolo, I can buy others, don't worry— But the redhead only limited himself to pointing at the sign above the theater entrance "Sold out" was written in large letters.

—Well… I guess I owe you the next concert, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, hmm? My treat — Despite his offer, his friend only let out a sigh of despair and helplessness.

—You have no idea where you left them?

—Ummm… I guess in my office…

—Tell your brothers to bring them to you! Please!!— Lucifer was quick to dial Satan's number, because by the way things were he would not be surprised if Diavolo's despair at this moment led him to pray.

By pure chance, Lucifer noticed that he had several unanswered messages and calls from one of the angels: Simeon

—You can't reach them?—the prince questioned

Lucifer just stood there, glaring at his phone with a mixture of regret and anger.

"Damm you Simeon" was all that came to mind.

—Oh? Aren't those Solomon, Simeon and Luke?—Barbatos voice interrupted his thoughts.

And sure enough, there at the entrance of the theatre were the inhabitants of purgatory hall, dressed in human world clothing, waiting in line, the youngest of the group with tickets in hand.

—Oh!? I didn't knew they had bought tickets for this!

—They didn't

—How do you know?

—Because those are YOUR tickets!

—What?!?!—Diavolo's confused expression was quickly met with Lucifer's phone right in front of his face, showing him the text messages.

—I'll go get them—but before the avatar of pride could take another step towards the purgatory hall group, Barbatos hand stopped him in his tracks.

—Your Majesty, I believe Luke's birthday is just in a few days and he seems to be enjoying himself, why don't we let them keep the tickets?—the butler suggested politely.

It took a couple of seconds for the prince of hell tho make his desicion, but the smile on the small angel face made all trace of doubt dissipate, and with a heavy sigh he finally spoke.

— leat it be, Lucifer...

—...are you sure of it, Diavolo?

—yes, perhaps next year we'll go together...all of us, right?

Lucifer was surprised but with a small smile forming on his face he said yes.

—Now... who's hungry?! We should go to the fanciest place in town, after all, It's Lucifer's treat!—the prince joked

—Perhaps the restaurant we attended last year would be fine, your Majesty?

—Ah yes! That would do!

And while Lucifer's wallet had started regretting his desicions, he was happy he could spend this evening with his dearest friends.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

I was going to put a drawing of the fantastic three hanging out but I only did Diavolo bc while I was finishing Barbatos and Lucifer my computer crashed and didn't save anything :c

So here's a Diavolo in front of bellas artes to compensate:

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #om! lucifer #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #om! diavolo #obey me diavolo #om! barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me oneshot #Lucifer #Barbatos #Diavolo #the fantastic three #Mexa Diavolo!

74 notes · View notes

youthkenworld · 3 years

Text

Another look at Kamala Harris, Part 2

By Mike Huckabee

Last week, given the difficulties President Biden was having just getting through an incomprehensible townhall meeting, we took a look at what Vice President Kamala Harris brings to the Oval Office if (when) the 25th Amendment is used to “retire” him. It’s not encouraging news, as you know if you read it.

https://www.mikehuckabee.com/latest-news?id=01A2837A-8710-4A6B-9A96-3021399FE349

Of the many reader responses we received, a couple of them pointed to a report on her that appears in the book PROFILES IN CORRUPTION, by Peter Schweizer. In fact, she’s Chapter 2.

http://www.jack-ass.net/art/pic/pic2a.html

The chapter begins with a story that shows the close connection between Harris and President Obama. She first supported him when he was running for the Senate in Illinois in 2004. Then, after he was elected, he flew to San Francisco to attend a fundraiser to help retire her campaign debt after being elected San Francisco district attorney. In 2007, when Obama announced he was running for President --- SO SOON after winning the Senate --- Kamala and several family members joined his campaign and, as Schweizer described it, worked tirelessly. When Obama won, Kamala was there in Chicago’s Grant Park for the celebration.

As Schweizer wrote, “Harris is widely admired in progressive circles as the ‘female Obama.’ Smooth, polished and confident” –- this was obviously written before that unnerving cackling began –- “she has worked hard to ‘cultivate a celebrity mystique while fiercely guarding her privacy.

What we wrote concerning her early life and Marxist influences is confirmed in Schweizer’s reporting.

And, yes, Harris’ political rise is tied to “one of California’s most corrupt political machines,” namely, the one connected to former San Francisco mayor Willie Brown, Jr. As Schweizer put it, “Kamala Harris’s entre into the corridors of political power largely began with a date.” At the time, he was Speaker of the State Assembly, the second most powerful political figure in California. Brown’s relationship with Harris was well-known; as Schweizer reports, “Their affair was the talk of San Francisco in 1994.” Though he was married, her own mother is quoted as defending the affair: “Why shouldn’t she…?”

Schweizer has detailed the various boards and commissions Brown put her on; these did not require approval from the legislature. These were an extremely lucrative way to pad her salary of $100,000 a year as a county employee. He also bought her a new BMW. But most important of all was the access he gave her to “his vast network of political supporters, donors and sponsors. Soon she was arm in arm with Brown in the most elite circles of San Francisco, including lavish parties and celebrity galas.” And this was before he was even elected mayor.

In fact, it was shortly after Brown became mayor that he and Kamala split up; details aren’t known. She started dating TV talk show host Montel Williams. She and Brown were still political allies, though, and he continued helping her career, through “the most powerful political machine in California,” which he ran.

Kamala went on to head the Career Criminal Unit in San Francisco, and apparently the DA who hired her, Terrence Hallinan, soon regretted his decision. When he didn’t give her a promotion she had wanted, hiring someone else instead, she ended up with Brown’s political machine backing her to run against HIM, and, as Schweizer wrote, “the flow of money directly into her campaign was unlike anything the district attorney’s race had ever seen.” The SAN FRANCISCO WEEKLY said, “She’s hauling in money like there’s no tomorrow.” The San Francisco elite with whom she’d connected while dating Brown forked over the big bucks. Schweizer’s chapter details the various ethical conflicts concerning this money and her use of city employees to do political work.

Harris outspent Hallinan two-to-one and came in second behind him in a three-person race. But in the run-off, she won and was sworn in as San Francisco DA. She took her oath on a copy of the Bill Of Rights rather than the Bible. Given her party’s anti-constitutional proclivities, I doubt the Bill Of Rights was any more honest for her to use than the Bible would have been.

Schweizer’s chapter also tells of Harris’s unimpressive history with the issue of sexual abuse of children by priests. This was a widespread scandal in California. Hallinan, as her predecessor, had uncovered documents going back 40 years, previously sealed by the Church, and had prosecuted numerous cases of child sexual abuse by priests.)

It turns out that according to San Francisco election disclosures, the Catholic Church donated big-time to Kamala Harris’s campaign against Hallinan, though she had no particular ties to the Catholic Church or Catholic organizations. And once she became DA, even though she had prosecuted sex crimes earlier in her career, she oddly moved in the opposite direction of Hallinan and worked to cover up the records. Victims’ groups wanted those records made public and were outraged that she wouldn’t do it.

From 2004 to 2011, when she was San Francisco DA, and then from 2011 to 2016, when she was California attorney general, she never brought a single documented case forward of an allegedly abusive priest.

There’s much more in Schweizer’s chapter about her performance in these jobs, and it is not pretty. He provides numerous examples of her selective enforcement of the law, to benefit friends of her “ex,” Willie Brown, and also of her husband, after she married Los Angeles attorney Doug Emhoff. We’ve also heard from readers in California who told us of her dismal performance there. Recall that when she ran for President, she bowed out even before her own state’s primary. She didn’t win one primary. And yet here she is, virtually destined to be the next President of the United States.

Throughout her career, Kamala has used her associations with powerful people to help her move forward, so it’s not surprising that her closeness to former President Obama would have led her to her current position. Before Biden was nominated in 2020, some had thought Michelle Obama might be the choice. (One of my staffers went on record with that prediction, writing at length about why she believed this would happen.) Certainly if Michelle had wanted it, she would have been the nominee and probably the next President, as the fawning media would have made sure of that. But the Obamas managed to accomplish the same thing, in a way that would still allow Michelle to sit at the beach with friends, sipping exotic drinks with little umbrellas. They did this by putting the woman known as “the female Obama” –- the far-left woman who shared their views in every way but who could never have even made it to her party’s nomination –- on the ticket with “moderate” (ha) Biden, knowing that Biden would never make it through a first term.

At this point, Biden can hardly make it through a town hall meeting.

What the left has done to our country through this scheme will not be forgotten --- or forgiven.

LEAVE ME A COMMENT here>>>, I READ THEM!!!

27 notes · View notes

oswincoleman · 3 years

Text

2020 Jenna Coleman’s Year in Review, part 2: Acting

Death Be Not Proud (Inside No. 9 series 5 episode 2)

Jenna Coleman secretly filmed this back in early 2019, before she started rehearsing for her theatre production of All My Sons. It took almost a year after that, for the rest of the episodes of the series to be filmed, and released. This remains the only film or TV role of Jenna that was released this year. And although the initial promotion for it appeared to show Jenna in the leading role in the episode, that turned out to just be a ruse to hide the secret of Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith reprising their roles from Psychoville in Inside No. 9, so her total screentime was only about 10 minutes or so.

It was an interesting episode, though not quite to my tastes, and Jenna played her role brilliantly as always. With the way it ended, it was like a bit of a teaser of what was to come.

This was her only appearance in film and television this year. Throughout her acting career since 2005, Jenna has always had substantially more screentime every year, than she did this year. The only exceptions being 2010 and 2011. Of course that is mostly not her fault; The Serpent would have been out much earlier without the pandemic.

The Serpent

After 4 months of intensive filming for The Serpent in the latter half of 2019, Jenna Coleman felt somewhat burnt out, and went on holiday with her parents to the Maldives in January. She described her experience there in a travel article she published later in the year.

Filming for The Serpent finally resumed in February,after a 2 month break, because Tahar Rahim has been working on a film in the meantime. This long break however proved to be quite problematic, as after only 3 weeks of filming, production had to be halted, due to the spread of COVID-19, with just 5 days of filming left to do.

There had already been plans for events to advertise The Serpent, but these were canceled.

Filming for The Serpent finally resumed in August. But unlike what had been planned, of filming the last few scenes in Bangkok and Budapest, they were shot in a manor in the small English town of Tring. A set had been built up there to resemble an apartment in Bangkok. Everyone whk was working on it at the time respected health guidelines, and so managed to safely complete filming in 2 weeks.

So in total, Jenna only spent 5 weeks filming this year, and she wasn’t even required to film on all of those days.

A Separate Peace

But over the course of the year, with the pandemic making filming difficult to impossible, Jenna instead diverted her attention to acting in other ways.

Most notably amongst those was A Separate Peace by Tom Stoppard; a virtual theatre performed by multiple actors over Zoom. It marked a significant improvement over actors merely reading text out loud, was amazing to watch, and was strongly praised as the best alternative to actual theatre currently available.

Jenna played 22 year old nurse Maggie Coates, who tended to, and befriended a patient, played by David Morrissey, who arrived at the hospital without having any medical issue whatsoever.

It was short and poignant, and it was amazing to see Jenna in this role. But info have some criticism about the producers. With minimal promotion for it, the turnout could have been much better. It was announced to be the first in a series of virtual theatre performances like this, and it seemed as though this was sort of a test run, to see whether this was possible at all, to see whether the media liked it, or not. The reaction to it was overwhelmingly positive, with very great reviews praising it’s ability to at least achieve some semblance of theatre despite all the restrictions preventing live theatre performances. It was even praised as among the best of theatre in 2020 (https://www.broadwayworld.com/westend/article/2020-Year-In-Review-Gary-Naylors-Best-of-Theatre-20201207).

After seeing those reviews, which were shared much more widely than the initial promotion for it, I saw lots of people who either wanted to watch the production, but couldn’t, as it was only shown once, and was not shared by the producers afterwards, or were interested in watching future installments of such virtual theatre performances. But the producers of this virtual theatre performance did not produce any other ones, despite initially announcing that they would. And even though it was understandable at the time, that they were unwilling to share the recording of the performance, as the money from the tickets did go to charity, and they did not want people to know that they could still watch future similar performances without having to pay anything, as they did not make any other similar production, it is perplexing why they never made the recording of this play available.

Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition

As the pandemic prevented most types of acting for large parts of the year, Jenna instead turned her attention to several audio performances.

Way back in 2011, Jenna voiced Princess Melia in the English dub of the fantasy role-playing game Xenoblade Chronicles. 10 years after the initial release, Nintendo worked on a new release; Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition, with updated graphics, gameplay, and a whole new extra storyline, that prominently features Melia. It was released on the 29th of May 2020.

Since Jenna rose to fame after she originally voiced Melia, the Xenoblade Chronicles fandom thought it very unlikely that Jenna would return to voice Melia again in the new release. But against all odds, she did return. It is unclear when she recorded the new lines for Melia, but I think it was probably in January or February this year, and Jenna has still never commented publicly about this role, or her reprisal of it.

Though I haven’t played the game, you can watch all the cutscenes of the game here: https://youtu.be/Tsgy1h5x8VU and the phrases Melia says througout the gameplay here: https://youtu.be/l7oDcI8HmI4

Pressures, Residential

On July 12th, Esquire UK released a recording of Jenna Coleman reading the short story “Pressures, Residential” by Philip Hensher, in support of Unicef UK, as part of the Esquire Summer Fiction Series. It’s a creepy story told brilliantly by Jenna. It’s always lovely to listen to her incredible voice. You can listen to the story here: https://youtu.be/VSpc4H-z40A

The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies

On the 17th of September, the audiobook collection “Beatrix Potter: The Complete Tales” was released, in which Jenna read the story of “The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies”.

Charlie Waller Virtual Carol Service

On the 7th of December 2020, the Charlie Waller Trust held a virtual Chirstmas carol service, that had been pre-recorded, and was streamed over youtube for those that bought a ticket earlier. As part of the event, Jenna Coleman read an extract of a Christmas carol poem by George Wither.

Additional Comments

With a lack of projects this year and the last, and with Victoria series 3 not being recieved that well, Jenna unfortunately didn’t win any awards, and wasn’t even nominated for any awards this year. Even though I think she was nominated and won far too few awards for her recent work, she at least had managed to maintain a success of several award nominations, and at least one win every year since 2016.

2020 has also been the first year of her acting career, since 2005, in which she didn’t officially get announced to have been cast in a new film or TV role, or had the certainty of continuing to play a role that she had already played, in the next year.

Even though Jenna Coleman was involved in many different projects this year, overall, she did not have any work to do for the vast majority of this year. With the TV and film industry being shut down or at least massively reduced for large parts of the year, there might not have been that many roles for her to audition for. We know that Jenna went on two holidays, and she had shared a bit of what she got up to during lockdown in this article: https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/fashion/fashion-news/g32374333/self-isolate-with-jenna-coleman/ But for the most part, it remains somewhat unclear what she did this year. We know she kept up French lessons for The Serpent, she did some gardening, possibly attended some photography courses, and possibly tried her hand at painting. She revealed all of that in May, and hasn’t talked about what she did with her time since then.

There is a possibility that she had been working on renovating her new house in the Cotswolds for some time this year. And there is also the possibility of her having already started filming work for her secret new project; after all it remains unclear where she was during her latest Galaxycon Q&A session.

Overall, this year has not been great for Jenna from an acting perspective. But 2021 will definitely be better! The Serpent airs on January on BBC, and will be released on Netlix sometime later that year. And then there’s also Jenna’s secret new project. Depending on what it is, we might even see that come out towards the end of 2021.

#jenna coleman #jenna louise coleman #inside no 9 #death be not proud #the serpent #bbc #netflix #a separate peace #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles definitive edition #melia #pressures residential #the tale of the flopsy bunnies #charlie waller virtual carol service

29 notes · View notes

diamond-seventeen · 4 years

Text

Together [Wonwoo]

a/n: my heart hurts writing about seventeen concerts because i had vip tickets to oty london before it was cancelled.. but this request let me live an svt concert experience through writing haha!

words: 1.3k genre: fluff

summary: you haven’t seen your boyfriend for months while he was on tour, but you finally get to see him when attended the final spot

It was a strange feeling; while you lived a mundane, ordinary life at home, your boyfriend would be flying from country to country, between different continents which you could never even imagine setting foot in. However, during the times when Wonwoo was on world tours, the mundanity of life was paired with an aching longing to just be within his vicinity, simply living in your tiny apartment once again.

Usually, due to having your own work to attend to, you couldn’t go and visit him whilst he was flying around the globe with his members. But this time, Wonwoo had surprised you with a ticket to the final stop of the tour, conveniently being held at the arena just half an hour away from your home.

That was how you found yourself in a busy concert hall, a few rows back from the front of the stage where you would finally see your beloved boyfriend again after months of being apart. The energy erupting from the crowd was invigorating, the excitement of the fans sending chills down your spine and increasing your heart rate slightly. In that moment, you truly realised that Wonwoo had made it – the dream he had set out on achieving was now beginning materialise in front of his eyes, and you had to fight back the tears of proudness that had welled up. The Wonwoo you knew was simply a boy whom you adored; albeit being talented and beautiful, he was someone who had happy and sad moments just like everyone else. Nevertheless, it dawned on you that to the rest of the world he was a star, a well put-together celebrity who seemed out of this world. He was truly amazing.

The sound of a young girl sitting in the seat beside you pulled you from your thoughts. Looking up at her, you smiled politely and she happily returned the gesture. She looked into your hand, and exclaimed, “Oh, your favourite member is Wonwoo?” she asked, referring to the hand picket you’d bought from the merchandise stand with your boyfriend’s face on it. “My favourite is Minghao,” she continued shyly, showing you the light-up LED sign which you realised she’d obviously made herself. The excitement and love the fans had for Seventeen warmed your heart.

“I guess you could say he’s my favourite,” you laughed, before complimenting her sign. Your relationship with Wonwoo was still a secret, so within the venue you were just another fan. Those surrounding you didn’t know about the days you’d spent with Wonwoo in the practice room, watching him practice for this very concert, or the nights you had laid in your bed whispering sweet nothings to one another. Wonwoo was most definitely your favourite… Not just amongst the Seventeen members, but amongst all the people wandering this planet.

As the lights dimmed and the concert begun, you felt your chest clench with anticipation at finally seeing the face you had been yearning to see for what felt like an eternity. Spotlights shone down on the members and the first song begun, and you cheered as loudly as you could while singing along to the words. Surprisingly, this was the first concert of Wonwoo’s that you’d attended and although you’d known he was good, you were in awe with his stage presence and expertise. The fans seemed to hang onto each word he said and every lyric he rapped. In the dark venue, he was shining brighter than the sun, his confidence and talent radiating from him like bright beams.

Wonwoo walked to the side of the stage in which you were sitting, his eyes searching the crowd for the pair which were so familiar to him. When he finally caught your gaze, you waved him and grinned up to him; you had thought that the crowd was energizing, but when you finally locked eyes with the boy whom you adored so much, you felt each of your nerves waking up and tingling despite the distance between the two of you. The smile you had on your face was mirrored, and he winked at you. You lifted up to show him your picket, to which he laughed amusedly at, his signature nose scrunch sending your heart into a frenzy, before moving along to carry on with the performance. The girl beside you was awestruck. “Hey, I think Wonwoo just winked at you!” she cried, envy and delight etched into her expression. You hid your face in your hands and nodded excitedly.

Throughout the whole concert, Wonwoo seemed to be partial to your side of the stage, always coming over whenever he had a chance. He would sing lyrics while looking straight into your eyes, and signal to you whenever he could. When you pulled out your phone and formed half of a heart with your hand, he gladly completed the shape with his own while you snapped the picture.

Once the event was over, a member of the staff came and quietly took you backstage, so as not to arouse any suspicion amongst the fans. She led to you an area where there was some food and tables arranged for the members. You sat down and played with your fingers, still feeling the sparking excitement from the concert. A recognisable voice interrupted your actions. “Oh, ___!” Seokmin proclaimed, obviously unaware that you’d been present today. “It’s so nice to see you! I’ll get Wonwoo for you now, if you want?” he offered and you appreciatively accepted, unsure that you’d be able to wait out even another minute of not being in his arms.

Within seconds of your conversation and Seokmin’s distant voice in the corridor, you could hear quick footsteps coming towards you. “Babe!” Wonwoo gushed, striding over to you as soon as he’d walked through the door. You stood up and found yourself engulfed in his embrace, rocking you side to side as he pressed firm yet loving kisses to the crown of your head. “I missed you so much.”

He was still wearing his stage outfit, the buttons of his shirt undone so you could feel his bare chest against your body. “Someone was in a rush to see me,” you laughed, looking up at his face for a second before burying your face into him again, revelling in the warmth of his skin. “I missed you, too,” you added, your voice quiet with contentment.

“You need to start coming on world tours with me,” he said, tangling his fingers into your hair. “I don’t know how I made it through these last few months without seeing you.”

“I have a job too, you know,” a light giggle escaping from your lips, before pulling away and reaching down to the table, picking up your picket. “Plus, now I have this for while you’re gone. I won’t be as lonely anymore.”

A loud laugh rippled through Wonwoo’s throat as he plucked the object from your hand, leaving one arm around your waist as he inspected it closely. “I guess I’ll have to get one of these made of you, so I won’t be alone either.” He quirked his eyebrow in thought before returning his gaze to your face.

“Definitely,” you joked, placing your hand on his face and feeling the smooth skin of his cheek on your fingertips. “But I absolutely prefer having the real thing here with me.”

Leaning in, you caught his lips with your own in a chaste kiss, enjoying the taste of the vanilla lip balm he always used. The action was so habitual, but it never got old; kissing him felt like the most natural thing in the world. Wonwoo leaned in for more, but you pulled away with a mischievous look on your face.

“Get changed and we can go home,” you told him. “Together.”

“Yeah,” he smiled back at you. “Together.”

#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo drabbles #wonwoo imagines #kpop imagines #fluff

143 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

A Vampire in Paris: Part One (Gigi x Crystal) - Chae

A/N: aaaa it’s here, part one! i was NOT expecting it to be 3.4k words but i’m so so so proud of the dialogue in this chapter. if you can handle a bit of exposition to get to the crygi fluff i swear it’s worth it XD

Summary: Gigi Goode arrives in Paris to start preparing for Fashion Week, but what dark secret is her company hiding? What’s the deal with those three supermodels? And why is Crystal Methyd so damn adorable?

We Begin

This couldn’t be happening. It felt wholly, totally, surreally unreal. Every dream Gigi Goode had ever dreamt seemed to be coming true at that very moment. The twenty-two year old had gone through immigration and baggage claim without really feeling much. When she met the Uber that was ordered to take her to the complex, she hadn’t felt much either. But now, as she drove through the streets of Paris, taking in the narrow paths and low buildings that completely contrasted the Los Angeles she was used to, she felt like she had arrived.

Crystal Methyd wasn’t exactly well-known, but she didn’t fly under the radar either. Anyone who spent more than two minutes researching modern fashion knew about her. She’d risen to popularity online through her wacky and interpretive, yet still fashionable, street style. Then, arguably the largest label in the world, ‘Fatelle,’ bought her company (as they did with about 90% of the fashion industry) and moved her to Paris. In a few weeks would be ‘The Methyd’s’ first showing for Paris Fashion Week, aka her ticket to worldwide fame and success, and Crystal had asked Gigi to model for her. She didn’t even know Crystal was allowed to choose her own models in the first place.

Gigi was used to having some spotlight. She’d amassed quite the following on Instagram and YouTube, which was how she got signed to her agency and apparently how Crystal had found her as well. Gigi was still dumbfounded by her luck, or talent, or universal power or whatever had gotten her to Paris to model for fashion week. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that fact when the car stopped in front of a huge building. It wasn’t modern or tall like businesses back home, but it took up an entire Parisian-sized block and stood a story or two higher than the average building.

Gigi gripped her luggage, two roller-bag cases, a duffel bag, a small backpack, and a purse, and breathed out. She wanted to look confident and put-together when she met… whoever she was going to meet. Would it be Crystal? She’d been contacted by someone named ‘Trixie,’ so probably not, but one could hope. Gigi stepped forward, entering through the gigantic gold spinning door and coughing a bit as the scent of floral cleaning product wafted up her nose.

The lobby was pristine—spotless, sparkling, even, marble floors and marble walls and marble ceilings galore. The architecture was retro, yet the furniture seemed almost futuristic. Glass display cases flaunted the designers’ best works, particularly the original creator, Miss Fame’s, designs. She felt like every single person who would work here attended at least three fashion shows a week. The young model took a moment to admire her surroundings before her heels clicked all the way to the reception desk.

There, she was met with a strikingly familiar face, with a name tag to match.

“Excuse me—wait, are you-”

“Shhhh!” the woman seemed to perk up immediately at the prospect of being recognized, looking at Gigi frantically. “I’m nobody! I’m the receptionist.” She held a finger up to her lips.

“But your name tag, it even says-”

“My nametag doesn’t say shit!”

Gigi was a little surprised at how casual the other woman spoke to her, but blinked and continued.

“You aren’t even trying to hide it?”

“Well, not everybody is as smart as you and remembers photoshoots from forty years ago!”

“This is a fashion label’s headquarters!”

The woman paused, not knowing how to respond. “Okay, touché. Ya got me.”

“May I ask a question?”

“I mean… yeah?”

“How do you look the exact same as you did in the eighties?” Gigi was raising an eyebrow at Adore Delano, a female rock icon known for her raunchy photoshoots and close relationship to the Fatelle brand. Her hair and makeup changed, her clothes were different, too, of course, but she looked the same otherwise. What kind of ooky kooky hyaluronic acid was keeping a 60 year old woman looking 20?!

“Ask, and you will not receive,” Adore sighed, playing with her hair. “There are just some things you’d be safer… not knowing,” she smiled decidedly, pleased with her answer.

“Right,” Gigi grimaced, avoiding eye contact with the star.

“Anyway girl, what’s the sitch? What can I help you with?”

“Ah, yes of course, I’m here to meet.. well, someone. I’m a new model and I’m supposed to be staying here for a while.”

“Ohhh, you’re one of the international shipments coming in for fashion week. Which designer?”

“The Methyd.”

“Shut up!” Adore grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Babe, you’re set for life. You better make a good impression on Crystal, she’s supposed to be the new thing and stuff!”

Gigi blushed. “Will I meet her today?”

“Mmm,” Adore checked a computer screen, clicking a few buttons and squinting. “You’re supposed to meet with Trixie, so you’ll have to ask her.” She grabbed something from under her desk. “Gigi Goode, right?”

“That’s me. Good morning!”

“Party!” The older girl grinned, handing Gigi a small card. “That’s your room key—don’t lose it. Unless you wanna like, get stolen from.”

Gigi took the key, placing it in her purse. “Thank you, and noted. Do not get robbed.”

Suddenly, another voice joined the pair as a tall woman strode into the lobby, conversing on the phone. She was wearing a pink blazer-mini skirt set and white patent pumps, the outfit hugging her curves perfectly. Her hair was big and blonde, straight with iron-curled ringlets at the tips, and her big lips and long lashes completed the Barbie aesthetic. Her voice, however, was stern and confident, the complete opposite of her doll-like appearance. If this was Trixie, Gigi was already intimidated.

“Well, Brenda, tell Katya that I’ll call her back later, please,” she commanded, a short answer coming from the other end before Trixie interrupted, scolding the person in French before hanging up. She looked to Gigi with a smile. “Sorry about that. You must be Gigi!”

Gigi smiled and reached out to shake her hand, but forgot that air kisses were the customary French greeting. Nice going, idiot, Gigi thought to herself as she finished the proper hello. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Mattel!”

“Oh hun, you can call me Trixie,” she smiled. “Welcome to Fatelle! I’m your modeling manager, so we’ll be seeing each other a lot. You come to me with any questions, concerns, issues, you need a tampon, a condom, a chocolate, a shot, I’m your gal,” she winked. Gigi laughed.

“In that case, can I have a-”

“You are not about to ask me for a condom.”

“Well…”

The two burst out, Trixie’s laugh coming out more like a bird screech than a human chuckle.

“Ah! Almost forgot,” Trixie reached into her pocket and grabbed a sticky note, handing it to Gigi. “That’s my number. I’ll text you important info, like meeting and fitting dates and such. We’ve only got three weeks to prepare for this, so the schedule is packed.”

Gigi folded the paper and put it with her room card, already nervous for what was to come. “Agh, well, I’m excited to start!”

“Of course!” Trixie smiled, glancing at her phone as it buzzed. “Shit, well, I gotta go.”

“Hold on, sorry, how do I get to my room?”

“Right! I’m stupid for not telling you.” Trixie pointed to where she’d come from. “Over there is the apartment complex area. Your key card will say which room it is, and the elevators are dead ahead. This place has a restaurant open to the public like a hotel does, but it’s free for models and employees and serves us privately during the day. There’s also kitchens in the rooms if you wanna cook for yourself,” she explained. “Later tonight our team should be getting together for a meeting, I’ll text you the details, kay?” Trixie almost mumbled the last part as she frantically punched the keyboard of her phone, obviously annoyed with the person she was texting. “Enjoy your stay!”

Before Gigi could even say bye, Trixie was gone. She understood for the most part, but she couldn’t help but notice Trixie hadn’t said anything about the portion of the building across from the apartments. The curiosity ate her up, so she opted to ask Adore.

“What’s over there?” Gigi motioned to the glass doors that led to the mystery area.

“That’s where all the businessy stuff happens,” Adore rested her head in her hand. “You’ll probably go there to do your model stuff. The further in you go, the crazier the shit is.”

“Crazy shit? What kind of crazy shit?”

Adore bit her lip, knowing she’d said too much. “Enjoy your stay, Miss Goode.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. Something smelled rotten at the Fatelle headquarters, and the young woman was dying to learn more. She followed instructions to get to her room, a spacious and immaculately decorated space. Flopping on the bed, Gigi closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to own such a large company. She’d never considered designing clothes, more than happy to stick to modeling. Speaking of which, she had a dinner to get ready for. She sat up, releasing her ginger waves from their ponytail with a shake of her head, exhaling a breath. After she unpacked, she was going to make herself look smoking hot. Crystal would not regret choosing her to be a model.

———

Gigi knocked on the glass doors leading to the private seating of the restaurant, trying to get Trixie’s attention. She’d worn her fanciest mini dress and most expensive Louboutins in hopes of impressing her team. The table was large, maybe ten or eleven girls crowding around it. And in the back, she spotted Crystal.

Or did Crystal spot her? Because they were making eye contact— holy shit they were making eye contact and Crystal was the prettiest girl ever what the fuck? Gigi gulped as someone else, a girl she didn’t recognize, let her in.

“Hey! Here to meet with The Methyd team?”

“Mhm,” Gigi nodded, air kissing the other woman. “Gigi Goode.”

“Oh, awesome! I’m Rock M Sakura, one of the makeup artists,” the shorter girl grinned at Gigi, her appearance reminding the model of a magical girl anime. “But you can just call me Rock.”

“Rock? What’s that short for?”

“Rock and Roll, baby,” she made a face and sat back down at the table, leaving Gigi to giggle and flick her eyes around to find an empty spot.

Of course the only one left was right next to Crystal.

And of course Crystal was smiling at her the entire time she walked to the seat.

“Hey, you’re Gigi right?” The designer asked, making the model blush at the fact that she knew her name.

“Good morning, it’s an honor to meet you Ms. Methyd.”

“Ah jeez, just call me Crystal! We don’t use last names here,” Crystal motioned to the laughing girls around the dinner table. “It looks like everyone’s here actually, we can finally introduce ourselves!”

Gigi glanced at Trixie, who was sitting close by, her facial expression reading “is this girl always this sweet and peppy?” The manager caught her eye and shot her back a look that said “yes.”

Crystal tapped a wine glass, garnering everyone’s attention. “Everyone, thank you all for coming to start this journey with me,” the designer started, a grin wide across her lips. “I know we’re all gonna make an amazing team, we just have to, uh, know each other’s names first?” Everyone chuckled lightly. Crystal looked towards Gigi with a sparkle in her eye. “Why don’t you start?”

Gigi took a breath, wanting to make sure her expression was stone-cold. “Nice to meet you all, I’m Gigi Goode, I just arrived from Los Angeles, I’ll be modeling.”

Crystal smiled, beckoning the rest to introduce themselves.

“My name is Jackie Cox, I came in from New York not too long ago, and I’m your backstage coordinator!”

“Bonsoir, I am Nicky Doll from Paris, obviously. I’ll be modeling as well.”

“Hey y’all, I’m Trixie Mattel, which you probably already knew, because I got you all here, because I’m your modeling manager.”

“The name is Jaida Essence Hall, and I’ve been modeling with Fatelle for some time now. I’m looking forward to working with Miss Methyd.”

“Hi, my name’s Rock M Sakura, just got here from San Francisco! I’ll be your assistant makeup artist!”

“Raven. Lead makeup artist.”

Now this chick seemed… off. She was extremely out of place amongst the rest of the girls in the group. She was just sitting there, glaring at the rest of the crew and almost… taking in information? Her face was sharp and beautiful, but her eyes pierced through Gigi’s soul as she, for some reason, stared her down. They moved on.

“I’m Plastique Tiara, I’ll also be a model. I can’t wait to start!”

“Hey there, I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes, if you’re Canadian, you know me. I’ll be helping get you guys outfits and hair stylists.”

“Ugh, great to meet y’all! I’m Jan Sport, I’m another model!”

There was only one girl left, thankfully, and only one more name to remember. “Hey, I’m Dahlia Sin. I’ll obviously be modeling.”

Crystal rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Yay! Now that we all know each other, hopefully the waiter’s coming sooooon!”

The table murmured in agreement, returning back to their previous conversations.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Gigi,” Jackie said from her left. Nicky peeked over her shoulder and nodded, flashing a gorgeous smile.

“The pleasure is all mine!” Gigi replied. “I can’t wait to try some authentic French cuisine,” she liked her lips.

“That’s right, you just got off the plane!” Crystal exclaimed.

Gigi confirmed. “How long have you been staying here?”

“Oh gosh, not long, maybe a month or two. Most of this team has only been working at Fatelle for less than a year.”

“Except moi!” Nicky’s thick accent interjected, an eyebrow raised playfully. “And Raven. Jaida’s probably been here just over a year. But yeah, apart from us, even Trixie’s a baby.”

Raven seemed to sense her name being spoken, but only tossed them a glance before returning to typing on her phone. Trixie was enthralled in some deep phone convo, the hard worker never seeming to catch a break.

“Oh, I just can’t wait to start! These designs have been in my head for years and they finally get to see the light of day on my amazing models!” Crystal gushed. The passion for her work seemed to be flowing out of each word she spoke, the radiant positivity infectious.

“We’re so excited to see you succeed, Crys,” Jan quickly complimented before returning to an apparently intense debate with Brooke and Dahlia.

Gigi noticed the waiter walk in through the glass door to take their drink orders, the model smiling at the thought of finally getting some real food in her. The only thing she’d been eating for the past 48 hours were shitty plane meals and junky snacks to try and make it through the thirteen hour joint flight.

When the door was open, however, Gigi couldn’t help but notice three distant figures sauntering down the restaurant hall. They looked super important, super rich. They must have been supermodels, but she couldn’t tell from how far away she was.

Jackie caught her line of sight. “You know them, right?” She asked, an edge of malice in her tone.

“I couldn’t exactly see who they were, but I’m sure I’d know of them.”

“They’re some bad business,” Jackie grunted.

“Really? Who are they?”

“Those are just some of the other models. Aquaria, Valentina, and Naomi Smalls,” Crystal explained, making Gigi’s eyes widen.

“No way! They’re insanely famous! Isn’t Aquaria supposed to take over the company or something?” Gigi raved.

“That’s up for debate,” Nicky rolled her eyes. “It sure looks like it, though.”

“If Mean Girls was real life, Aquaria is Regina, Naomi is Gretchen, and Valentina is Karen,” Jackie said. “And don’t you dare try to become Cady.”

Gigi laughed. “I won’t, I promise. I like you all too much.”

“Their people are another beast altogether,” Nicky spat. “One that we’ve been trying to conquer, but they’re just so full of themselves they can’t see past their own noses.”

“They’re working for Fatelle Official, so they’re doing something right,” Crystal tried to reason.

“Well, I’m working for The Methyd, which is gonna be bigger than Fatelle. I can just feel it,” Gigi grinned. Crystal laughed airily, a tinge of red hitting her cheeks.

“Thanks, Gig!”

Gigi couldn’t help but blush once again at the cute nickname Crystal has already begun to use. They all placed their drink orders, and Gigi managed to converse with Crystal without exploding. The older girl was dressed in a sparkly cocktail dress, with bright colored eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. Her hair was curly and mouse-brown, and it framed her face while flaring out in the back. Crystal was dastardly gorgeous, with twinkling eyes, a tiny nose, and lips ever-curved into a smile. Thank god it was normal to look at someone while they talked to you, because Gigi couldn’t stop looking at Crystal.

Gigi sipped the mixed drink that was brought to her at last, while Crystal looked at her with a playful smirk.

“Have you ever thought about going blonde?”

“Ha! Maybe? Why?”

“One, you’d look good. Two, I’ve been wanting to go redhead but I don’t want to come for your brand!”

Gigi laughed heartily, wiping a bit of drink off her lip. “I’ll have to think about it!”

“If you do it, do it before the show!”

“And do it at a hairdresser,” a voice said at the other end of the table. It was quiet and barely audible over the chatter of the other women, but Gigi realized Raven had been listening to their conversation. She made eye contact with the older woman and grew hot, her gaze making Gigi anxious and want to look away. She nodded at Raven and turned back to Crystal, cringing.

“What’s her deal?”

“Raven’s?” Crystal bit her lip, not entirely comfortable with the makeup artist’s presence either. “The higher ups said she needed to work with us since everyone was new, and she is the best makeup artist in the city, really,” she shrugged. “I couldn’t say no.”

Gigi nodded in understanding. “She keeps looking at us.”

“I know,” Crystal chuckled. “But I mean, who wouldn’t want to look at you?”

The model turned bright red, rubbing the back of her neck. “Thank you, Crystal. It… means a lot coming from you.”

It was the designer’s turn to blush, and for a few moments the two sat in awkward silence before they were interrupted by the waiter taking their orders. Gigi hadn’t even looked at the menu— she was too busy talking, so she just ordered whatever Crystal got.

Gigi knew, even from the short time she’d spent with her new friends, that she was in for a wild ride. And she knew something was up with Raven, Aquaria, Valentina, Naomi, and Adore, and she was going to get to the bottom of it before Fashion Week was over.

———

It was 11:58 PM when Raven opened the great wooden doors to the study, shutting them gently behind herself. She spotted Violet Chachki perched on the desk as usual, smoking a cigarette from a holder ring. Violet shot the makeup artist a look before clearing her throat.

“Darling, Raven’s here.”

In a movie-like scene, the huge velvet chair behind the oak desk spun around, revealing a disinterested Miss Fame. She too, was smoking a cigarette, but in a much less dramatic fashion than her assistant.

“So?” She pressed.

“You definitely want that Gigi girl. And you want Methyd, too.”

“Right. And?”

“You’re in luck, because apparently they’re a package deal.”

Violet grinned, glancing to her lover who seemed to share the same sentiment. The designer and the model. The CEO and the burlesque dancer.

Fame looked back to Raven, stubbing out her cigarette with her own finger.

“History repeats itself, it seems.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #crygi #jackie cox #nicky doll #trixie mattel #adore delano #miss fame #violet chachki #lesbian au #supernatural au #a vampire in paris #chae #concrit welcome #submission #s12

97 notes · View notes

fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Caught in his web, Chapter 19

Chloe’s friends were no help in regards to her situation.

One of them had heard bad things about Loki, the murdering and some of the stuff he did for money. But another of her friends had only seen and heard great things about him, because her mum worked as a nurse at the hospital he helped fund on a regular basis.

The basic consensus was that he was rich, good looking and wasn’t going to kill her, so why not just enjoy it and spend all his money. Which she did, almost. They went shopping after the cinema and Chloe bought them all dinner and then splurged on some clothes and new make-up.

When her friends went home, she had been tempted to try running away. The train station was only a short sprint away, surely she could reach it and buy tickets before Nelson would be able to contact Loki to cut off the card…

‘Come on, Miss. Loki is home and expecting you back now.’ Nelson said as he opened the door of the car and looked at her expectantly. He saw her glancing at the station and that made him a little nervous, but he breathed out in relief when she meekly got back into the car.

When they returned, Loki was waiting for her and opened the door on her return. She carried her bags inside and turned to face an inquisitive Loki.

‘Enjoy yourself?’ He asked.

‘Yes… Thank you.’ Chloe nodded, she didn’t really know what to say or do now as she stood there awkwardly under his gaze.

‘What did you buy?’ He asked, peering at the bags.

‘Uhm… Some make-up and clothes… Is that ok?’

‘Of course. I said to use the card for whatever you wanted. Go upstairs and unpack, I will be up shortly so you can try on your new clothes for me.’ He purred, his eyes darkening a little at the thought.

Chloe cursed internally. She forgot about the way he had her try on all her clothes when she first came here. She should’ve known he would get her to do the same for anything new she got.

She rushed off upstairs, Loki grinned at the way she ran off. He turned to Nelson who was waiting by the door.

‘Did she behave?’

‘She did. I think she was contemplating making a run for it at the end, I saw her eyeing up the train station. But she thought better and got in the car.’ Nelson said honestly.

‘Well that’s good she made the right choice.’ Loki nodded, pleased with what happened. ‘Thanks, Nelson. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Loki patted his shoulder.

‘No problem. Anytime.’ Nelson smiled.

Loki went upstairs to Chloe’s room and noticed she was in the walk-in wardrobe putting away her new clothes. So he crossed the room and sat down on the chair by the window. He crossed his foot over his knee and waited patiently for her to finish.

When she came out of the wardrobe she let out a screech of fright and put her hand over her heart. ‘Fucking hell. Do you have to keep sneaking up on me like that?’ She hissed. But she blushed after the outburst, remembering suddenly who she was speaking to.

Loki just chuckled and rubbed his lower lip with his finger. ‘Come here, doll.’ He motioned her to him with a come-hither finger.

Chloe swallowed hard and crossed the room to him. He uncrossed his leg and patted his thigh while looking at her intently.

Her eyes widened upon realising he wanted her on his lap. She bit her tongue and didn’t move, but Loki tilted his head down slightly and narrowed his eyes at her, in a silent warning. That was all that was needed as she moved over to him and got on his lap with her legs bent at either side of him on the chair.

She tried not to touch him, but Loki took that option away from her as he grabbed her hands and draped them around his neck. He slid his hands to her back and moved them downwards to hold her bum, squeezing her in delight.

‘I just spoke to Nelson.’ Loki said firmly, looking into her eyes still.

Chloe felt her stomach drop. Shit. Did she do something wrong? Did Nelson notice her thinking about running away? Did he tell him that?

Loki started patting her bottom in a rather gentle manner while he continued. ‘Do you know what he told me?’

She had started shaking, Loki could feel her entire body doing so in fear of what he was about to say and/or do. But she shook her head slowly.

‘He told me that you looked in two minds about attempting to run by the train station…’

Chloe felt like she was going to be sick. How had Nelson noticed that? ‘I… I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t mean’ Loki cut her off from rambling as he continued speaking.

A gentle smile formed on his face. ‘But he said that you did as he asked and got in the car instead.’ He reached up with one of his hands and started stroking her hair in an oddly soothing kind of manner.

‘You can be such a good girl, and you were indeed today.’ He purred, his praise oddly settling her nerves a little. ‘So much so, that I want you to come along to a party I need to attend across town this weekend. There will be drink, food and lots of mingling. But I want you with me, on my arm.’

Chloe was taken aback. Loki could see the wheels turning in her head, so many questions.

‘It’s a business party, so there will be many important people there. Also some nobodies.’ Loki said flippantly. ‘You don’t have to come, if you don’t want to. But I would very much like you to. I think you’ve earned a chance to let your hair down. You can invite two friends, too.’

Chloe was really surprised and didn’t know whether to accept the invitation or not. Loki could see that she was uncertain.

‘And your father will be there, what with him having a new job now with an acquaintance of mine who is going.’ Loki added in like an after-thought.

Her eyes widened a little and Loki saw the interest flood back to her.

‘I… I think I would like to go.’ Chloe nodded.

Loki grinned widely. ‘Excellent.’ He slid his fingers through her hair and held tightly as he pulled her in close to kiss her, she just took it without any hesitation and allowed his tongue to slip into her mouth and take control of her own.

After leaving her breathless from the kiss, he leaned back and smoothed her hair away from her face. ‘I’ll take you out tomorrow, we will need to get you a nice new dress for it. None of the ones you have currently will be suitable.’

‘Is it a really posh party?’ Chloe asked quietly.

‘It is indeed. So you best be on your best behaviour, too. If you show me up at all by acting out, there will be serious consequences.’ He growled and tightened his grip in her hair as warning.

‘I’ll behave. I promise.’ Chloe said quickly to get him to release his harsh grip on her, which he did.

‘I know you will, doll. You’re my good girl. Now, go and try on those new clothes for me.’

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #caught in his web

118 notes · View notes

whatzaoverwatch · 4 years

Text

The Reaper of the Opera Chapter 6: Poor Fool, He Makes me Laugh

On with the show right? Right???

First Prev Next

Nighttime/Backstage

The preparations for the evenings’ performance were well underway. The performers rehearsing one more time before the show, the musicians practicing each note while the tailors take in their fittings. The hustle between everyone was a little overwhelming since the show was completely sold out again. With the news of Hana Songs return, they were eager, while also curious on what happened to [Name]. All the pampering and attention was drawn towards Hana as she awaited her moment. Barely lifting a finger while the managers took care of her needs. What she wanted was what she got. While it seemed a little excessive for anyone new taking in the atmosphere, it was just the same as before Reinhardt and Torbjorn bought the theatre. Fareeha, looking rather tiresome of the praises and gaudy display of Hanas’ preparation, simply rolled her eyes and continued stretching.

“Just when I thought things would be different around here. They are spoiling her just as much as Mr. Morrison did.” She complained to Lena and Amelie, who were at her side with their routine.

“Give Mr. Morrison a little bit of credit, at least he stood out of the princess’ way during the show.” Amelie stated bluntly, stretching her leg up perfectly against her figure.

“I just don’t understand why they just don’t let [Name] lead the show,” Lena pouted, looking towards where [Name] stood with Ana for some extra practice, “Didn’t that note Madame Amari got stated that specifically?”

“Yes, but look at the two of them,” she nodded over to the two men who complimented Hana on her final appearance, offering her a spray to help with her vocal chords, “Tell them all you want, they are too stubborn to see the consequences.”

“What is so dangerous about those notes anyways?” Amelie questioned, looking at the ladies shocked expressions strangely. She frowned as if she had said something rude, “Who is this Reaper anyways?”

“Figured an exchange dancer like yourself would ask such a thing,” McCree finally spoke up. The women looked to the stage handler, watching him climb down from the ladder he was using to adjust the lights, “After all, it is a rather frightening tale that doesn’t escape the theatre.”

“Here we go…” Fareeha mumbled, rolling her eyes as the rugged man leaned towards Amelie.

“They say long ago there was this man who performed here in this very theatre. However one day the man took a sinister turn and began to attack the audience, “McCree began to explain, rubbing his hands with the red rag from his pocket, “Then a fire broke out and supposedly killed the madman in a single night. Now his spirit carries on, threatening any who oppose his words. Even steals young, beautiful girls to consume their pretty lil souls.”

“Aww come on Jesse, you are just making that up!” Lena huffed, seeing the disgusted glare of Amelie. McCree merely smirked with a shrug.

“Okay maybe the tale is a little bit exaggerated. But tell me, where do you think [Name] was after her debut performance?” He asked the group, watching them fall into silence with no answer, “What with the faulty lights and shot ropes I say we may have a surprise guest on our hands.”

“What do you think will happen?” Fareeha questioned.

“Who knows, the new guys aren’t taking in those threat to heart. It could be a bloodbath for all we know. Maybe he will cut a few throats, or hang the managers. Can’t really predict what a monster has in store,” Watching the three of them direct their eyes behind him. Feeling a watchful eye look him down as only one woman could do such a thing. Turning over to see Ana with you by her side in uncomfortable silence, “Oh umm, begging your pardon mam. I was just telling the girls-“

“Trying to scare my girls again McCree?” Ana struck him with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow. The cold stare even sending the stage handler a shiver down his spine. Tapping his chest with her index finger, her gaze narrowed, “I suggest if you do not want to be hanged as you say, keep your hands by your eyes and away from my performers.”

He immediately rose his hands to either side of him, swallowing thickly at her warning. Saying his goodbyes and wishes of good luck to the girls, he left to his duties in a hurry. The three dancers look towards Ana, watching her pinch the bridge of her nose in exhaustion.

“Take Jesses words with a grain of salt girls, he only means to frighten you for his own entertainment. This is just another performance night and will be handled like any other show,” Placing a hand on your shoulder to hold your attention, “Keep your head clear my dear. Although your role is much smaller, you remain a vital part of the show.”

The girls simply bowed to their instructor before she made her leave. Heading to the direction of the managers to shoo them away from the spoiled Hana. Lena turned towards you who continued to look rather distracted. She nudged you gently to snap you back into reality.

“Don’t look so glum love, I’m sure you’ll do great.” She assures you with a smile.

Although you wished to agree with her, all you could think of was The Reaper and his mask. Hearing the fainted organ and how much he still whispered in your mind. He even now continued to take over your thoughts, thinking upon his desire for you to be his songstress. There was more to it though, you found more of his black roses appearing in your dressing room. Even cloaking your mirror found no prevail to his siren song. Snapping out of it at the curtain call, you turned to the girls with a gentle bow.

“Break a leg guys.” You quietly spoke before running off. Leaving the girls rather confused before Fareeha spoke.

“She must be thinking about that man that came looking for her.” She concluded, causing Lena to gasp and Amelie to roll her eyes.

“A man?? What’s his name?” Lena pleaded for details, only to be called for places once more. Left with the mystery of who it was, they prepared for the performance to begin.

The audience took their places preparing for the show. Torbjorns family occupying the managers box while they assisted with the final touches. Even a surprised Hanzo took his side with Genji once more. He was unsure as to why his brother wanted to attend the show again, but it must have been connected to the young woman Genji wanted to introduce. Claiming her to be an old friend from long ago that was the child of their fathers’ friend. He thought of her as a mere excuse to leave him when the woman didn’t show up. But those excuses were made up by not only the same reserved tickets for tonight’s performance, but affirmation that Hana Song was to perform. Genji might’ve been always wandering, but he always paid attention to what grabbed his attention. He settled into his seat, eyeing Genji as he nervously looked over the stage.

“You seem rather anxious.” He calls his brothers fidgeting, rather annoyed by the movement.

“Forgive me, but I cannot help but worry bout her.” Genji confessed, eyes fixated on the stage with a grimaced look. Hanzo quirked his eyebrow curiously.

“Ah this ‘friend’ of yours. Are you sure the reason she hadn’t appeared was because she simply didn’t want to?” He suggested, receiving a rather stern look from his brother.

“That is not like [Name],” Hanzo suddenly realized the woman he spoke of was the replacement from the night before. Explaining his shock for when she performed, “Although, I can agree that she was rather uncertain on attending. She wouldn’t simply disappear in the night to prove it.”

“People change in time Genji, you know that as well as I do.” Looking over Genjis metal parts, only to look away when his brother sighed.

“Maybe so, but something about this doesn’t sit right. Especially with this ‘Reaper’ that the managers spoke of,” Genji looked around their box with a sigh, “This is to be the box he was to reserve. The managers were more than happy to let us have these tickets. If this man ever does show up, I would like for him to answer a few questions.”

“Why are you so persistent on this matter? This [Name], was she the reason you wanted to leave the clan in the first place?” He asked, bitterly regarding that fateful day. Watching his head hung low, silence lingering between them both before speaking.

“I do not expect you to understand, Hanzo. But as my brother I hope you will place your trust upon my wishes.” Both brothers look into each others eyes, as they did back when they reunited. Hanzo merely sighed before looking to the stage as the lights faded.

“Do what you want Genji. But do not blame me if something doesn’t go your way.”

The show began as Hana took the center stage as the countess. Her bright and youthful voice drawing the crowd to the rather comedic performance beforehand. While she remained poised and graceful across the stage, your role was to act like a mere fool upon the stage. A servant boy that had had a forbidden affair with the countess. Upright humiliation as you purposely fell and acted clumsily in front of Hana. Roaring laughter filled the audience at the entertainment. As any performer must be met with such roles in their lifetime. Despite your foolish appearance, Hana remained her pristine, sassy character who laughed behind her fan.

The performers backstage observed as even Torbjorn had to hush Reinhardt from his fit of giggles. Fareeha, Lena, and Amelie taking in their cues when instructed, following the music performed by Lucio in the orchestra pit. What seemed to be a hilarious show, would soon take a dark turn for the worse.

In the shadows above the ceiling, a sinister presence lingered above the chandelier. Observing the show from above with a rather displeased glare. Cloaked in black with his mask worn behind the hood, The Reaper tapped his finger against his crossed arms while he watched. Disgusted by how much they teased and mocked your performance while praising Hana by her voice. He never liked her voice, it shrilled and ached his ears to no end. She truly was a spoiled brat that forced her way into show business. Looking down below to the audience, watching their high-class mugs laugh at such mediocre work. Finally, his gaze fixated upon his reserved Box 5. Occupied by the young man who desired to see you. Watching him smile and gaze upon you irked his stomach entirely. Finally having enough, his voice carried into the theatre to drown everyone in silence.

“Did I not ask for Box 5 to be empty?”

Quiet gasps and murmurs spread to his interruption of the show. Reinhardt and Torbjorn looking rather bewildered by the voice, feeling the worry kick in as they knew exactly who it was. Genji and Hanzo turning suddenly to their box being called, the youngest looking rather unnerved. The music disappearing while the performers froze in fear. The dancers lingered closer together, huddled in fear with Anas gaze very stoic.

“Blimey! That’s the Reaper of the Opera!” Lena whispered in shock, causing the women around her to gasp. Not aware that McCree had stepped away from his place in the commotion.

You were very quick to your feet, wide eyed with fear at the familiar voice. Breaking your character to realize who had spoken. Heart racing and your body trembling. Despite the chandelier covering his appearance, you could feel his eyes upon you in an instant. His voices echoing in your head and infiltrating your mind.

“It’s him.” You spoke in disbelief. A sudden tsk from your co-star was heard, watching Hana sneer at your peril.

“Your role is supposed to be silent! Remember??” She hissed pointing her fan at you like a command. Turning to the audience, realizing the harshness of her works. Forming one of her fake smiles, she snapped at Lucio for his attention, “Maestro, take it from the top of the number please?”

“You still speak high and mighty, little rabbit. Let’s see how you are without your foot.” Reaper growled, disappearing into the dark. Hana took no quarrel to the threat as she asked for her spray again. Not even gazing at what was being used before drawing her attention to the audience.

She began to sing once more, only for her voice to sound raspy and breathless. Her eyes wide in horror as the audience was left to listen in disbelief. Clearing her throat once more, she tried again only for it to sound just as rancid as before. The force and sounds it made left the audience in a mix of shock and laughter. Leaving her in a state of shock and humiliation at her misery. Turning the show into a complete disaster before everyones eyes. Reinhardt and Torbjorn were swift into action while they called for the curtains. Escorting the furious Hana off stage and into Anas care as she is left to sob in croaked tears. As they moved back towards center stage, they drag you along with them.Each arm held by the other.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there will be a slight change to tonight's performance,” Reinhardt announced to the rather confused audience, “Tonight our lead shall be now played by Lady [Name]! In the meantime, please do not leave your seats as we will take a brief intermission with our ballet from the play!”

“Ballet??? That’s not till Act Three!” Lucio whisper shouted from his place, looking frazzled at his music sheets. Torbjorn glared at the musician before clearing his throat.

“Yes, the ballet. So please, take your seats and just…stay,” Torbjorn was quick to say before dragging [Name] behind the curtains. Leaving a confused Reinhardt to search for the split in the curtains to follow suit. More laughter ensued as Torbjorn pulled you along to your dressing room, “Someone get [Name] into the understudy dresses! This is becoming my worst nightmare, and where is McCree??”

The various shouts and rummaging of the stage could be heard from the scaffolding. Reaper observed the chaos from above as he made his way across. Seeing the dancers prepare for the ballet. Watching you being escorted into your dressing room. Knowing he had already planted the understudy dress and a vase of black roses for you in waiting. He knew his warnings would fall on deaf ears, so he had already planned for the backup. Switching Hanas vocal spray with a rather unpleasant concoction. Sabotaging Hana’s voice was only the beginning if his warnings were never to be met. There was still much to be done. Before he could move onto the next course of action, he was halted by the sound of a gun clicking from behind.

“That’s far enough Mr. Reaper,” Turning himself around, he found McCree standing right behind him. A revolver in the stage handlers grasp, pointing at him aloofly. Seeing the rather serious look in his mug, “Don’t you know people nowadays complain about the show in the papers? No need to ruin a couple folks precious evening.”

Reaper merely laughed at McCrees words. His voice ragged as they both stood above the stage at this point. The music returning as the dancers took their place.Dancing beneath them to a song that contrasted the situation above them.

“You think you can take me? You are in over your head, ingrate.” Reaper threatened, facing Jesse completely.

“Tough words for someone who likes to hide in the dark. You may have slipped past me before, but you aren’t getting away so easily this time. So why don’t we cut the charade and take you to where you truly belong: behind bars.” Stepping towards the man, keeping his balance on the high beams that they stood upon.

Before he could take another step, Reaper disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Catching McCree off guard as he aims for the darkness. Unaware that the smoke slipped past him and grabbed McCree from behind. Grabbing McCree into a head lock position. McCree struggled against the shadows grasp as he tried to escape the position. Finding his balance lost, Reaper took advantage by tossing him down against the high beam. The gun skidding across the beam, just balancing against the edge and far from Jesses reach. The stage handler reached for his gun, only for his tattoo arm to be stepped on. Gritting his teeth in pain, he found a large gun pointed towards him. Pressed harshly against the flesh for him to stop his attempts to grab his own weapon. The Reaper stood above him with very intense eyes.

“I thought I taught you better than that, Jesse,” He snarled, clicking his gun. The music building quickly below them. The dancers pirouetting faster and faster to the music, “But you are nothing more than the show boater from the Deadlock Freakshow.”

McCrees eyes widened, looking up to the masked man as he pressed the gun against the arm at the end of the high beam. Looking into the hollow eyes to see a familiar glare.

“Gabriel??” Was the only thing he could say before a shot cracked through the theatre.

To be continued

41 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1123

survey by zqrwrgnani

What do you typically have for breakfast? I skip breakfast Monday to Friday. On weekends either of my parents will usually make fried rice served with 3–4 of the following: eggs, hotdogs, corned beef, dried fish, ham, longganisa, and luncheon meat.

Where do you purchase most of your clothes? There’s a tiangge at the local mall where they will change up the collection of clothes being sold every couple of weeks. They have trendy choices at really low prices so that’s where I liked getting clothes back when I went out more.

Do you have any opinions on Anna Delvey? Literally have never heard of her. Should I know who this is...?

What are you currently streaming? I have an episode of (surprise!) 2D1N turned on, but it’s paused.

What do you typically order when you go for coffee? Iced caramel macchiato. I actually switched it up today and went for a basic iced mocha, though. Just wanted to try something new, I guess.

Anything you’re looking out for at the thrift? No, and I don’t usually make trips to thrift stores either.

Who are your favorite YouTubers? Louise Pentland is a recent favorite. There’s also Good Mythical Morning, Grace Helbig, and The Try Guys. I also like a ton of BuzzFeed people but I don’t think they count as YouTubers. I like a good number of local vloggers as well but they’re no one you would recognize.

Describe your skincare routine. I just splash some water onto my face first thing in the morning, every day.

What’s your typical morning routine look like? Work has conditioned me to automatically wake up at 6:30, and by then I have the choice to either go back to sleep or try to properly wake up by watching YouTube videos. Either way, I have to be up by 8 so I can start working. And like I said, I briefly wash my face, then I immediately head to my laptop. That’s it, really; it’s super uneventful and I'm sorry I can’t make it any more interesting lol.

Are you still playing Animal Crossing? I never bought the game, actually. I asked Nina if I should buy it and she said it probably won’t be suitable for me since the game requires a lot of creativity, which as y’all know by now I lack entirely hahaha. I have my eyes set on other games.

How has the pandemic specifically affected you? It kept me from having a memorable final year in university, and it kept me from having a graduation ceremony. We also had to sell one of our cars, which I really loved driving when we still had it, so that bummed me out. I believe the pandemic had also been a slight factor in the crumbling of my former relationship as well.

Where’s your favorite place to go for brunch? I never go out for brunch.

What’s on your nightstand? Right now there is a bunch of books on it and a paper envelope from work.

What do you think about before falling asleep? Anything except my already pending deliverables work for the following day.

What is your main source of anxiety? Continued from the previous evening. I don’t know if there’s a main catalyst...a lot of things have the ability to make me feel anxious.

Any bands or artists you’ve recently discovered? I’m going further down the K-pop rabbit hole as I know it, lmao. It’s starting, you guys. This week I discovered GOT7; I’ve only heard one song so far but I’m extremely hooked. Ravi’s also very talented and has catchy songs.

What are your goals for today? Have a great rest of the evening and enjoy the start of my weekend.

What kind of games do you play on your phone? I haven’t been playing a lot of games on it, actually. I mainly use it to keep track of my Viber notifications (because my laptop sometimes won’t, and I end up replying to some work threads late) and to watch on Viu. But the last game I downloaded was a logo quiz game for old times’ sake.

Are there any packages you’re waiting to come in through the mail? Nah, haven’t ordered anything recently. I think I’m over my online shopping phase hahaha. I was just really excited about it when I got my first couple of paychecks, but now that the initial thrill has passed, I mainly look forward to spending on food – exactly like how I predicted it would be for me.

Describe your favorite t-shirt? I’d neverrrrr throw out my CM Punk Best in the World shirt for the world, no matter how more tattered and stained it gets. It’s one of my prized possessions and it reminds me of a really happy and carefree time in my life.

Do you have a specific aesthetic? I don’t know if I fit into a certain one; I certainly don’t consciously try to. You’d have to ask my friends if I do have a specific kind.

Skinny jeans or mom jeans? Mom jeans, a thousand times over. I dread wearing skinny jeans.

What’s your favorite 90s cartoon? The Wild Thornberrys.

Describe the moment you realized you were falling in love with someone. I felt scared more than anything else. I’ve never felt such a heavy sensation before, so I didn’t know what was going on. I also felt the need to be around them as much as I can, as I was starting to love and enjoy their presence, and be the one to attend to their needs.

Have you tried the feta and tomato recipe? No but sounds delicious.

What’s your favorite sparkling water brand/flavor? I don’t drink that. Sounds nasty.

What’s your favorite makeup brand/brands? Don’t wear makeup, either.

What’s your all time favorite movie? Two for the Road.

What are some female names you would name a baby? Olivia, Mia, and Amelia are some of my favorites.

What about male? Erm, probably names like Mason, Elliott, Matteo, Liam...I don’t want a son, so I don’t think about boy names too often lmao.

Do you have any subscription boxes? No. I’ve always wanted to subscribe to one with a quirky concept, like a Korean-themed one, or international snacks or condiments, or curated alcoholic drinks, etc. but at the end I feel it’s a luxury I could do without.

What did you purchase the last time you bought groceries? The last time I got groceries was for work, and for that instance I got several of the following: coffee packs, soju, various canned goods, spaghetti set, Nutella, and toiletries.

What fictional creature would you like as a pet? Wouldn’t keep him as a pet but I feel like Maximus from Tangled would be such a fun dude to be around.

Describe your favorite piece of jewelry. I don’t have one. I love borrwing my mom’s Tiffany’s jewelry, though.

Have any local businesses closed that you’re sad about? So fucking many of them, especially the ones I frequented back in college. I went back to Katip last week and the place felt like a damn ghost town.

How do you feel about the BLM movement? I support it, of course. And I feel infuriated by those who try to counter by saying aLl LiVeS mAtTeR or worse, bLuE lIvEs MaTtEr.

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever taken? I don’t think I ever took an advice I knew was bad or would be useless or irrelevant to me. But this reminds me of my mom’s favorite piece of advice for every bad situation, which is to pray lmao.

How do you feel about your neighbors? I feel like I answer this a lot on this surveys, but I don’t think anything of them. We mostly keep to our own business.

What kind of dwelling do you live in? A house.

Have you been watching this season of The Bachelor? I’ve never tried watching it and have no desire to.

What’s typically kept in your purse/wallet? Paper bills, receipts I have the tendency to stuff and keep there even though I’ll never have to use them again, my Paramore ticket, TIN ID, copies of 1x1 and 2x2 photos of myself just in case I have to whip one out, driver’s license, my debit cards, and my vape.

How do you feel about TikTok? I gravitate towards the tutorials and unique prompts (like people showing their parents of different nationalities, the then-vs-now of their pets, etc) more so than the dance-y/meme-y ones. I’ve never felt the need to get the actual app, though. I get my TikTok fix on Facebook, which makes me feel old saying so LOL

What’s the hardest thing you’ve done/been through? Dealing through a breakup was surprisingly harder and more excruciating than deaths I’ve had to go through.

Did you/do you still have a Neopets account? I never had an account but I did have a Neopets game on my flip phone.

What do you look like on a day where you don’t leave the house? Haggard.

Do you have any opinions on Amberlynn Reid? Have literally never heard of that name.

Any current trends you dislike? Most streetwear.

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

joontier · 4 years

Text

Read or Ride

—> Pairing: namjoon x female reader

—> Genre/warnings: crack basically, joon tryna fite a baby, sMUTTY SMUT SMUT - oral (m and f receiving), riding

—> Words: 5.4k

—> Summary: Unknowingly dissing a novel right in front of its author? We’ll see how that ends.

—> A/N: Comeback is real loves

There's something about airports that Namjoon loves - a satisfactory sensory experience: whether it be the wheels rolling against the shiny tiled floors; children playing along the moving walkways, pretending to be Michael Jackson and doing moonwalks; the sound of getting your passports stamped; or the boarding tickets getting ripped.

But, there's one thing rising author Kim Namjoon distinctively enjoys. People-watching.

Not in a creepy way, of course. Namjoon loves the range of emotions attached to airports and how he witnesses all these first-hand. There are anticipation and excitement from those who were traveling for leisure, sadness from those who have to leave their families temporarily, indifference from people who have to travel for business. For Namjoon, airports are easily on top of the list when it comes to public places, despite having to pay an excessive amount for a bottle of water or a bland donut.

Namjoon takes delight in observing humanity, to say the least. It's what constantly inspires him to write and inspire other people in return. The tall twenty-four-year-old just passed the immigration area and is on his way to the boarding gate to sit down and enjoy the overpriced coffee he bought moments earlier. He doesn't want to brag about finally making it big, but when a lady asked for a picture taken with him and asked him to sign on a piece of paper, he couldn't help the subsequent spring in his step when he continues towards his destination. Namjoon takes a mental note to tell this later to his mother who has a google notification alert set for her son's name.

Only a few people are lounging in the boarding area when Namjoon arrives and looks for a seat near a socket where he can charge his phone. You look up from your seat as he approaches and Namjoon gives you a small smile as he takes one across yours. Moments later, after Namjoon sends a message to both his mother and agent informing them of his soon departure, he notices you pull out a book from your carry-on, the all-too-familiar white cover catching his attention.

Namjoon tries not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation but also attempts not to pump too much air into his head with the photo op earlier and now having to watch someone read his book. He must've hit it big this time, as his third novel has finally reached the New York Times Best Seller List, despite originally having it published halfway across the world and in another language.

Your eyes scan the book's summary at the back and Namjoon feels like he's been punched in the gut as he doesn't miss the way your nose scrunch after going through the short passage. That's a first. The author tries to divert his attention by scrolling mindlessly across social media but still secretly gauging your reaction as you finally start reading the book. He takes a look at his surroundings, enjoying his watching of the never-ending arrival of planes and putting his peripheral vision to the test as he observes your reaction from time to time.

He's thankful that you're focused on reading the book because minutes after looking forward to your facial feedback, he realized he's harboring quite the crush on you. Pretty quick and unusual for a stranger and even more in a public place full of it, but Namjoon claims you're close, if not completely, to his type.

You've gone for an autumn-inspired look, sporting a white sweater, white-washed ripped jeans, oxfords, and a cashmere caramel coat draped over your knees. Not to mention the gold-rimmed glasses perched on your nose, giving off an incredibly homey feel. The way your hair falls from your shoulders as you dropped something or the way you push the bridge of your glasses up also doesn't go amiss. He just finds everything you do endearing, and it takes him all his patience and self-control to not walk over to your seat and introduce himself.

It's been a while since he's been in a relationship, his harshest breakup the inspiration for his first novel. He's tried to go on blind dates set up by his friends, mostly Seokjin, but none of them felt right. Namjoon wasn't sure if it was simply bad timing, or he's gone through a phase of enjoying his freedom from a toxic past.

Namjoon's outright staring is momentarily interrupted when you stand up all of a sudden, placing a random receipt you grabbed from your bag and using it as a bookmark. He takes a look around and sees people forming a queue near the gates, thankful that you hadn't noticed his more than inappropriate staring.

Since a small plane will be accommodating your four-hour flight, the airline staff tells everyone to queue by seat order, calling those seated in the far end of the plane to get in first. There are a few people between where you and Namjoon stand, and Namjoon can't help but hold on to the small sliver of hope that you two will be seated next to each other.

The staff then proceeds to call on those who occupy the mid-section of the plane, and excitement bubbles inside Namjoon as you both move forward in the queue, passing those who were still waiting to be called. The rest of the jet bridge is quiet save the rolling of suitcases' wheels against the plastic flooring and Namjoon's steadily increasing heartbeat. Namjoon was usually suave when it comes to interaction with the opposite sex but God, where is all this high-schooler shit coming from?

He searches for his own seat, chanting the alphanumeric characters in his head like a mantra. Namjoon nearly bumps into you as you stop by the twenty-sixth row, lifting up your carry-on towards the cabin. He would've offered a hand with that but Namjoon's brain was too busy with the fact that you were going to be seated next to him. Almost. Well, you were seated next to the window and Namjoon was next to the aisle, and God forbid someone to take the seat in between.

A couple of minutes more pass and the head flight attendant announces that the plane is doing its final ground checks and will be departing soon. Admittedly, Namjoon absolutely adores airports, but the flight itself? Not so much. He despises the way his stomach lurches during take-off and landing, and can't help imagining that one of the plane's engines will give out, crash head-first in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and if he surprisingly lives, he'd go all-out survival mode on an uncharted island with the minimal knowledge he'd gotten from watching survival documentaries on National Geographic.

He's elated when he figures no one's seated between you, but that fact wasn't enough to calm his nerves as the engines finally roar into life. A part of him curses the person supposed to be seated between you for not showing up, so now you'd have to witness him shaking more vigorously than a rattlesnake's tail.

Namjoon completely misses out on the aircraft's safety regulations, shifting endlessly in his seat and as the plane finally reaches the runway, you can't help but ask him if he's okay. Initially, he's pleasantly surprised by your voice, how it's equally angelic as your face, but the nagging voice at the back of his head overthrows yours and it takes him a few seconds to register that you're trying to talk to him.

"Me? I, uh, yeah," he stammers out, completely at a loss of words. "Sorry, flying isn't just my thing," Namjoon chuckles nervously. Your eyes travel to the way he's gripping onto the armrest, knuckles almost turning white with tightness. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" His head snaps up to look at you, and your cheeks instantly flush with heat while the man looks at you dubiously. "I mean, my Nana gets anxious during flights so she holds my hand all throughout the trip..." the last words come out of your mouth in mumbles.

'Great,' Namjoon thinks. Now, the girl he has a crush on, who, by some miracle, happens to sit right next to him, thinks he has the same flight tolerance as a God-knows-how-old granny. Way to go, Kim Namjoon. He's torn between having a deflated ego and a nearing a nervous breakdown and decides that having to deal with the latter would be easier, considering the situation and his options.

"Um...sure," Namjoon finally answers, reaching out his hand for you. You send him a genuine smile as you link your hands with his. He feels worse than a baby traveling for the first time. Just then, he twists his head to look across the aisle, just to see a year-old baby smiling back at him as if to mock him.

‘Wow’, wonders Namjoon, ‘since when were humans too young to be taught about respect?’

Namjoon wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep but when he opens his eyes, it's already been three hours since they departed. It saddens him that your hands were no longer linked together, though he did enjoy the short period that they were. Your hands were so soft and your fingers felt like they had the right size just to fit perfectly into his. Under the disguise of rubbing his nose, pretending that there was a small itch, Namjoon finds himself swiftly inhaling the scent of your hand cream, shea butter, one of his favorites.

If Namjoon felt like a creep earlier, there was nothing compared to what he felt now. He tries to keep his thinking straight again, and as his eyes drift back to the passengers seated across the aisle, he finds a pair of big blue eyes from the baby staring back at him, with the same mocking smile earlier.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the small human as if taunting him to say something. The blue-eyed baby stares at him back, before sticking his tongue out at the author and bursting into a fit of laughter. The joyful sound caused smiles to etch into the faces of nearby passengers, but to Namjoon, it was the purest form of ridicule he has received for the past twenty-four years of his life.

He opens his mouth to say something intelligible but realizes he's trying to fight with someone nearly a quarter of his height so he closes his mouth and ignores the baby. The pilot announces that you'll be reaching your destination in less than an hour, and Namjoon decides that this was the perfect time to initiate a conversation with you - it was now or never.

The words appear in jumbles in his head, so when he settles on something as safe as "Pretty interesting book you got there," he lets out a long-held exhale of air. You look up from your reading and place the bookmark-receipt on the page where you stopped. Ah, the mark of an avid reader - anything of close proximity can be deemed a bookmark.

"Yeah, recommended and given by a friend. Not into these types of novels though," you answer, lips forming a tight smile. "What's your type then?" Namjoon asks, unsure if he's still on the topic of novels.

"Mystery. Adventure, political or historical, perhaps," comes out your reply, and you tilt your head as if thinking of more. "Romance novels these days... they almost all have the same storyline. Whether they end up together or not."

"So this is a stereotypical novel then?" the latter asks with eyebrows raised.

"Well, I haven't reached the end yet, and I don't really want to prejudice..." she pauses for a moment and turns to book to check the front, "N.J. Kim, whoever he or she is."

Namjoon hopes that you don't skip to the last page of the book to see his face in monochrome and a short paragraph on his journey of being a writer to accompany that. "It's a cute story though, very light mood compared to those I've read recently. A change of atmosphere is appreciated once in a while." While Namjoon wants to convince you that things are about to get heavier in the final chapters and the upcoming sequel despite you being cute and all, but that would've been throwing a year and a half's work straight to the bin.

Before Namjoon decides that it's not his book that he wants to talk about, his bladder starts acting up so he excuses himself for a while and stands up from his seat. His long legs stride down the aisle and he comes face-to-face again with the blue-eyed baby. What has he ever done in his life for little humans to despise him this much?

The year-old boy rests his chin on his mother's shoulder and stares at him, doe eyes adding to the intensity. Then he breaks out into a fit of laughter again causing the mother to turn around and look at the reason. She sends Namjoon a brief smile before heading to the lavatory with her son giving him a two-teethed smile.

When he comes back to his seat ten minutes later, he finds you still reading. Although this time around, he finally builds up enough courage to initiate a proper conversation. That is until you beat him to it. "Quite the line down there yeah?" Namjoon chuckles in agreement, buckling his seatbelt. There's a pregnant pause before you reach out your hand to him for the second time today. You state your name as he returns the gesture, "Namjoon," the author replies along with a dimpled smile.

"So what's your story?" Namjoon inquires, shifting his body so he could lean his elbow on the armrest. "Just taking a break from work...And a friend recommends the place too," comes your reply.

"Ah, the same friend that gave you that book?"

"Yep."

"You seem to trust that friend's judgment."

"Yeah, and now I know not to," you sigh, resting your head against the chair. "Why so?"

"This book is almost like what I expected. The reason I don't delve into romance because ninety percent of it is mostly crap. I enjoy reality. I revel in its authenticity, unlike fabricated ones like these where the female character always seems to come in some form of distress and lacks the confidence to solve her own problems. So here comes Mr. Perfect clad in his knightly armor with two propositions a) he tries to solve all the lady's troubles or b) he'll just add himself to the list and cause more inconvenience."

Namjoon, now sporting a wounded ego, intends to retaliate, but decides on keeping the conversation going rather than defending himself. He lets you rant about previous books you’ve read and your thoughts on it while he tells stories from his travels around the world, smoothly avoiding the reality of him being a writer and you were just criticizing his novel.

There's a pang in your chest once you've parted ways with the stranger you've acquainted with. You've never had an interaction with a guy before who listened intently as Namjoon did, not even at work to say the least. You couldn't deny the fact that he was cute either, so having to know just the name of a possible total catch was upsetting.

It's a quick ride to your hotel and when you reach the building, you make sure to take a snap to send to Ariel. Something feels off once the driver hands you your luggage, remembering that your case seemed to be lighter than your own. You don't put much thought to it as you want to take a nap once you get to the room before heading out to the city.

As soon as the receptionist hands you the key card, you do a near sprint towards the closing doors of the elevator, waving your free hand to the passengers. Sleep was about to overcome you, dozing off during the elevator ride and using your luggage as support but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep well when you don't wash up after a long trip.

You fall on your knees once you get to the room, dragging the luggage down with you, too tired to exert any more effort. You put in the combination to the lock with one eye open, resting your back against the bed frame. Your head shoots up when you see 1-2-3 on the wheels and the zipper won't slide open. Shit.

You hadn't bothered changing the default combination when you bought the bag two weeks ago. You hadn't found any other reason to do so anyway. Seeing as no one else could've had changed it during that time, you check the rest of the luggage and inspected if it was truly yours. It seemed like yours from the front, the logo still in its place and a red lining along with the zippers.

When you twist the bag to check the rest of it though, you find out that the blue luggage tag you've attached to the side handle with a label 'DO NOT TOUCH' is nowhere to be seen. A thin laminated card has taken its place instead. It takes you by surprise when the card reads 'N.J. Kim' along with his contact information in case of loss. There was no way you could've been on the same flight as the author of the book you were just reading. Not to mention you didn't have anything good to say about the book too.

You find yourself pressing the numbers on your phone regardless, just wanting to get your first day of vacation hassle-free. It takes a few rings before someone picks up, a male voice saying something in Korean. You weren't that all too familiar with the language, although you remember Ariel watching a drama of some sort and came across the phrase.

"Um, hello?" you answer with crossed fingers, wishing that the person on the other line could speak in English.

"Yes hello. Who is this?" You breathe out a sigh of relief as the guy responds.

"I'm ______ and I'm looking for N.J. Kim. May I speak to him please?"

"Sorry but Mr. Kim isn't available at the moment. Would you like me take a message for him?"

"Yes, please. Could you tell him that I've mistaken his luggage for mine? Perhaps he's taken mine by mistake too?" you pause as you think for a solution to meet halfway "Maybe we could meet up somewhere so I can give this back at once."

The man mumbles something in Korean but judging by the way he spoke, he sounded like he was reprimanding a small kid. "Yes of course. I shall relay your message ASAP. Although I have to remind you that he won't be available until after a few hours. Would you be willing to wait until then, Ms. _____?"

"A few hours?!" you can't hide the risen pitch of your voice and you cough as you echo what he said one more time. "My apologies miss, but Mr. Kim is currently at an event. If this is of utmost importance to you, as his agent, I'd like to personally help you if you are willing to pass by the venue now. It's at a hotel in the heart of the city."

Not wanting to prolong your stress any longer, you respond in the affirmative. The guy, who you later learned to be Seokjin Kim, gave you the address of the book signing event.

- - -

A sudden wave of realization hits you when you see a standee by the hotel’s lobby - one around Namjoon’s height and his dimpled smile, holding the book you were just reading. And criticizing. He looks more of a recording artist than a best-selling author with promotions like these, but the thought of openly complaining about a book in front of its author is eating at your conscience and you feel your legs turning into jelly.

You head towards the function room, remembering that you still have the novel in your bag. God, this is going to haunt you like a terrible nightmare. You notice some girls standing a few meters away from the doors and you hear them giggling and talking about Namjoon. It doesn’t surprise you though, knowing for a fact that your seatmate on the plane could easily pass for a celebrity.

The guards let you in when they see your book and as you enter there is an elevated platform with Namjoon seated with a while interacting with his fans while signing the books. A crowd of nearly all girls are seated facing the platform, few are taking pictures and some are cheering him on, occasionally asking him questions while he continues to sign the novels.

You continue to watch the whole scenario, not noticing someone walk to your side. “You must be _____,” he asks. “Seokjin Kim.” Introducing himself as his agent, he leads you to a waiting room behind the stage and asks you to wait as the event is about to end.

Thirty minutes and an awful lot of screaming later, Namjoon enters the room and for a moment you’re taken aback by his presence. He has his hair styled up this time, dressed up in clothes that fit his size more compared to what he looked like a few hours ago at the airport. Not that he looked any less cuter though.

You’re thankful you taken a seat on a couch on the other side of the room openly ogling him. He hasn’t noticed you yet, picking up a few personal things near the vanity mirror. “Hyung, you should’ve seen the girl I sat next to at the plane! She was... fuck. I can’t get her off my-“ Namjoon spins just enough to see you there, visibly swallowing when he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“So you’ve met Ms._______,” Seokjin states as he re-enters the room. Namjoon remains speechless as you answer for him “I’m the girl he sat next to on the plane.” You don’t know how you’ve managed to gather up the confidence to say that, but the smirk playing on Seokjin’s lips is not helping.

“Well done, hyung. Well done,” someone claps from behind Namjoon, checking you out in the most obvious way possible. He waves at you, introducing himself as Jimin and cousin of Namjoon. He extends a hand his hand out for a shake, sending you a wink when you return the greeting.

Jimin, the blonde-haired adonis, reaches something from the pocket of his jeans and slaps it on Namjoon’s chest. You see a hotel key card, and the all-too-recognizable aluminum packet of a condom behind it. “Your luggages are in the room,” Jimin informs, sending a wink to Namjoon this time.

Face paling quickly, Namjoon coughs and quietly asks you to follow him, not meeting your eyes. The elevator doors open, Namjoon walks in first with you following closely behind. Sadly, you didn’t notice the gap between the doors and you trip, landing face flat on Namjoon’s chest which was firmer than your will to live at that moment. You’re sure your face has gone through all shades of red now, the rest of the elevator ride unbearable.

“This is going to be awkward, but, I- um...I’d like to apologize for what I’ve said back at the plane...about your book...” You cringe at your words, a very vivid memory of you ranting now etched permanently inside your brain.

"How about I prove you wrong about my novels?"

He drags his finger along the edge of the lamp by the corner, absentmindedly feeling the smooth surface and not wanting to meet your eyes. When he turns to look at you though, it takes three seconds to register that your lips are finally on his, your mouth firmly pressing against Namjoon's.

It's just as soft as he imagined, the cherry taste of your lip balm leaving him wanting for more as you suddenly pull away. "You have no idea much I've imagined--" Namjoon starts to speak but you place a finger on his lips to shush the man. "Shut up and kiss me already."

His hand finds its way to your neck, while the other supports his weight as he gently pushes you to the wall. Once more, your lips meet together and a shiver runs down Namjoon's spine, sending charges throughout his whole body, especially down south. Namjoon leaves your lips for your cheek, then your jawline and he's thankful that you look up in bliss, giving him more access to your throat.

Slender fingers travel to the hem of your sweater, lifting it a little so his fingertips dance their way onto the expanse of your skin under your clothing. You push yourself off the wall to take off the ridiculous amount of clothing you still have on while Namjoon forcibly opens his button-down shirt, the sound of buttons falling muted against the carpeted floor.

Namjoon curses under his breath when your hand brushes by the erection straining against his jeans. It's almost embarrassing for him to get hard so quickly this time, but no one could've blamed him when a pretty girl was already on her knees ready to suck him off. Namjoon feels the room temperature rising by the second, beads of sweat slowly glistening his forehead. When his cock finally springs free from the confines of his boxers, you grab his length, tentatively swiping your thumb across the slit, a string of pre-cum glazing your finger.

Kim Namjoon is definitely blessed.

He lets out a hiss when you bring your lips to his cock, letting the tip of your tongue trace the singular vein popping from his length. Namjoon isn’t sure which is hotter - your mouth on his cock or the visual you’re generously providing him with.

“Fuck, enough of that.” He guides you up, supporting you by the waist. Namjoon then pushes you down to lay on the bed, hair splayed all over the pillows and your torso hitting the soft bedding. He captures your lips in an eager yet playful kiss while his hands travel along the length of your body.

He growls into the kiss, one hand reaching down to open your thighs. As Namjoon’s cock brushes against your clothed cunt, you helplessly lift your hips to grind against his, desperate for some friction. “Not so fast, baby girl,” Namjoon whispers against your skin, nipping lightly at the shell of your ear.

“Joonie please,” you whimper, his cock twitching at the sound. Pulling down your bra to expose your breasts, Namjoon’s featherlight touches around the area hardens your nipples in an instant and he brings his lips to the hardened nub then blowing cool air against it as he does the same with the other.

Having enough of the man’s teasing, you plan on giving him a taste of his own medicine when your hands travel slowly to his length. Namjoon notices the motion of your hands though, taking both your hands with one hand and pinning them above your head. He then proceeds to revel in the smoothness of your skin until he reaches your thighs and looks up at you, sending you a flirty wink.

Kim Namjoon will be the death of you and you’re sure as hell enjoying every second of it.

He moves closer, nose expertly brushing against your covered clit. You shiver at the feeling, and the moment Namjoon pushes your panties to the side and flattens his tongue against your folds, you instantly let out a cry of pleasure. He wastes no time taking off your underwear for you, feeling and seeing your excitement at par with his. Namjoon continues with his torture, licking his lips when he finally sees your folds glistening, sweet and ready to be divulged. His skilled tongue circles your clit and then slides into your clenching hole to get a taste. You whine, hands tugging at his hair at his ministrations. You almost lose it when his tongue meets your clit again, this time sucking on the bud. You wriggle your hips, trying to free yourself but Namjoon pins you down with strong hands, licking and sucking at the nub.

“I-I’m so... so close,” you moan, breathless when Namjoon suddenly pulls away. Your head snaps up and you stare at him incredulously. “You know, I’d love watching you come apart with my tongue, but I’d rather have you cum on my cock,” he rasps out, manhandling you so that you’re seated on his lap in one swift motion.

"Ride me," Namjoon's voice drops to a whisper, his mind clouding as he feels your center pressing against his cock. You notice him hesitate for a moment, staring at his discarded jeans on the floor, remembering the condom Jimin handed him together with the key card. “I’m clean and on the pill.” You reassure him, getting a soft ‘fuck’ in return. You lower down to let his cock grind against your entrance, the divine feeling making you both shudder and moan. If he already feels like this even before he's inside you, your mind couldn't possibly cope with what could happen moments later.

Once you're positive that you've already coated his length with more than a generous amount of your slick, you give him a quick kiss before pushing him further towards the headboard. Slowly, you sink down onto him, the breach making you gasp out in pleasure. Your eyes close for a moment as he finally reaches the hilt, letting yourself get used to the feeling of him stretching you out.

Subconsciously squeezing around him, Namjoon lets out a broken moan, his line of vision focusing on where both of you are joined as one. You start rocking your hips slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. "Is this okay?" you ask him, his silence causing you the slightest hint of worry. "Yes, oh-" he responds, heaving a sigh when you squeeze yourself around him, the previously articulate man now at a loss for words.

“Shit, if you keep doing that...” Namjoon rasps, hands on your waist tightening when you clench around him again, purposely this time. “Like this?” you confirm, enjoying his reactions. You continue moving your hips, forward then back, reveling in the feeling of his cock a snug fit inside you. Unfortunately, after letting your gym membership crumble to dust, your stamina is not cut out for reaching your highs like this. Namjoon notices your movements stutter, and starts snapping his hips up to help you.

God, he’s reaching in too deep like this and you don’t think you’re going to last that long like this. Slowly, you feel that familiar pressure building up inside you, eyes rolling to the back of your head. When Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit, it finally hits you so strongly that your body bows towards his, hands resting on his chest for support.

Namjoon, desperate for his own release as well, switches your position one more time. “How are you so tight?” He mutters to himself, face hovering above yours as he supports himself on his elbows, snapping his hips as he gets lost in the feeling of having your walls clench around him. “One more time for me, baby.” You’ve come to adore the pet name he’s given you, but when he said that with a particularly strong thrust, your muscles contracting once more.

Namjoon’s hips stutter, and while you mewl against his chest for the overstimulation, he lets out a deep grunt as he reaches his climax, using your pussy to get off. You reach your high again one more time, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life. He’s still breathing hard while he slips out of you, planting a kiss on your cheek as he heads to the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he returns, he finds you’ve turned to lie on your side, already snoring softly.

‘Guess who fell asleep now?’ He chuckles to himself, proceeding to carefully wipe the remnants of your intimacy on your thighs.

#ksmutclub #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #bts smut #bangtan #bts imagines

200 notes · View notes

sherlollydramoine · 4 years

Text

Zara’s Red Carpet Debut

This is just a follow up to the Uncle Rami piece I wrote yesterday. I had an idea and I ran with it. Thank you to @diasimar for the ideas and suggestions. This is just tooth rotting fluff, so watch out, if you don’t already have it, you might end up with a case of diabetes after reading this.

Word Count: 2185

Zara was Rami’s absolute favorite child. She wasn’t his child of course but of all of his nieces and nephews, okay he only has one niece, this child was his favorite. So when awards season rolled around and he was once again invited to attend the Oscars he instantly knew exactly who he wanted to take as his date.He’d called in a favor to one of his designer friends at YSL, and once his sister had sent him Zara’s measurements, had placed the order for the custom dress. He even had his jacket made to match some of the tiny details of Zara’s dress.

When Zara found out that she was going to be Rami’s date she was so excited that she could barely contain herself and then she firmly reminded him that no outfit was complete with a tiara. He softly chuckled to himself and as soon as she disconnected the line, he immediately went about calling in favors from some jewelry designers until he found one that could create exactly what he was looking for. She was now going to be the proud owner of a real diamond and ruby princess tiara and he was eagerly anticipating her reaction.

The several weeks leading up the event consisted of daily phone calls from Zara reminding him that he better take her to McDonald’s and also that he had to introduce her to Captain America because he is sooooo cute. He rolled his eyes and promised that if he was there that he would ensure a meet up.

His sister flew with Zara out to LA and only stayed a few hours before she had to catch a return flight back home. Rami would be flying with Zara to take her back home in a couple of days, so that Z could also spend some time with Uncle Sami and grandma. Before his sister left she made Rami promise not to let Zara get too bossy and no McDonald’s. Rami just smiled at his sister, crossed his fingers behind his back and lied his ass off much to Z’s delight.

On the big day they had spent most of being groomed and pampered. He had someone come in to do his niece's hair exactly how she wanted it, she got her nails done and was even allowed to wear a little makeup though his sister would ream him for that one later. Little Z was loving every second of the attention that was being lavished on her, but she was quite particular. For one so small she sure knows exactly what she wants and how she wants it, much to the chagrin of the unsuspecting hairstylist.

Other than being a little sassy she was fairly calm throughout the preparation process, even took a nap for her uncle to help prevent any meltdowns later. As it were she was currently full of excess energy. She was such a chatterbox throughout the afternoon asking her hairstylist, the nail tech, and the makeup artist every question she could ever think of to ask and Rami had to intervene a few times when she started sharing personal details about her two favorite uncles. Rami was still an incredibly private person so having details of his life spilled because of his niece’s mouth was embarrassing. It was a risk he was willing to take by taking her along with him tonight.

“What’s that?” Zara asks the hairstylist when she started to mess with the box that Rami had left on the table as he walked away to go get dressed.

“It’s a special surprise Z,” Rami called out through the bedroom door that had been left slightly ajar.

“I wanna know what my surprise is!”she demanded with a pout, one that was so adorable and rivaled that of her two uncles.

“I’ll be out in a second and then you can see. Remember what I told you about tonight?.”

With a dramatic sigh she mumbles out, “Patience.”

“That’s right. Patience. It’s hard I know, but there might be some waiting around tonight and you might get a little bored but remember patience is going to be key.” Rami explains as he emerges from the bedroom wearing just his pants and his dress shirt that was only partially buttoned.

“You can open it now” he tells the stylist, who with a nod opens the heavy box slowly.

Rami visibly flinched when little Z saw what the box contained and let out a piercing, high pitched squeal of delight.

“You remembered! My princess tiara!”

“Of course little one, I wouldn’t forget such an important detail as the princess tiara. According to you no outfit is complete with a tiara. I even have a small one that I’m going to wear tonight pinned to my jacket. It matches yours.”

The stylist reaches into the box and pulls the tiara out so that little miss attitude could inspect it up close.

“Are those real sparklies or just fake ones like my tiaras at home?”

“Z, would I let you go on a red carpet with fake sparklies?”

”I LOVE IT!!!!” she screams again, and everyone in the room flinched.

“This is the glitteriest, sparkliest, prettiest, most awesomest princess tiara in the whole wide world.” She inspects it again, and then hands it to the hairstylist and begs her to hurry up and get it put in place so she can see her reflection in the mirror.

Rami does a little dance inside at Zara’s absolute delight at her surprise. Once the tiara had been put in place and firmly secured Z couldn’t stop staring at her sparkly reflection in the mirror.

“It glitters like a real princess crown and I’m the prettiest princess in the whole wide world,” she rambles.

Rami just laughs and continues trying to fasten the buttons on his shirt, and making sure that everything is properly tucked into place.

After the hairstylist left Uncle Sami stopped by bearing gifts of food and drink for everyone so they could have a little treat together before Rami and Z headed out. Z screamed again at the sight of her other favorite uncle standing there holding a little red box with the golden arched handles.

“Wow, look at you Z you look like a real fairytale princess.”

“I do! Uncle Rami and you are the bestest uncles in the whole wide world!”

Sami sets the bags of food on the table and kneels down to envelop Zara in a hug but she backs away suddenly.

“What’s the matter Z?” he asks, just as Rami steps out of the bedroom straightening his tie.

“I’m all princessy. I don’t want to get messy before I gotta go with Rami. He says it’s not good to be wrinkled when I have to be with famous people.”

Sami just laughs and cocks a brow.

“Z that's not what I said.” Rami says from the doorway of the bedroom.

“Yes it is!”

“No, what I said was that you didn’t want to get all wrinkled before your photos. You better eat up kiddo. I’m going to go get you a towel so that you don’t get any stains on your pretty dress.”

“Get one for you too!” both Sami and Zara said at the same time.

Rami just shook his head as he realized that even his seven year old niece knew how clumsy he could be.

Sami helped set up Z’s food while Rami got the towels wrapped around her so that she couldn’t spill anything on her dress.

“Where’s my chocolate milk? I wanted chocolate milk!” Zara complained loudly, making a pouty face as she looked up at her uncles. Her blue-green eyes a similar shade to her uncles were swimming with unshed tears. She really knows how to get what she wants from her uncles, and they’ve never denied her anything.

“Z we decided that it was probably best for you to have Sprite this time just in case you do spill a little bit. It won’t stain your dress.”

The little one just couldn’t seem to understand exactly what both her uncles were trying to explain to her as she began to let a few crocodile tears roll down her face.

Rami kneels in front of her and places a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Hey-hey. Z don’t cry you’ll ruin your pretty makeup. I promise that after the show you can have all the chocolate milk you want but we don’t want any accidents to ruin your pretty dress.”

She snuffles a little bit as she puts her head on her uncle's shoulder.

“Fine. But I don’t like it,’ she huffs indignantly against Rami’s shoulder.

Rami just releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in preparation for a full blown Zara meltdown. Her meltdowns were known to be epic and long-lasting. She’s a stubborn little thing and everyone knows it.

Sami, Rami and Zara finished eating quietly, and with a few minutes to go everyone made their final preparations for the evening.

A knock at the door signaled that it was time for Rami and Zara to head to the car, which they did hand in hand with Zara delightedly singing some pop song.

*ARRIVING AT THE EVENT*

Rami did the best he could to prepare Z for the insanity that was the red carpet. He’d discussed with her how bright and loud that it can get, and if at any time she gets scared to let him know so that he can make arrangements for her to go with his assistant.

Stepping out of the car he immediately began to hear the fans cheering and the flashes began going off. He was used to this but little Z wasn’t. THis was her red carpet debut after all. He turns around and helps Zara out of the car, and with her small hand in his makes his way towards security.

Showing his ID and surrendering his tickets to the man at the entrance, the two of them hand in hand began to make their way down the red carpet. Zara handled the majority of it like a champ.

People yelling his name and wanting his attention, he knew he’d have to stop and do some interviews so he did. But all along the way he would kneel down to Zara’s level when the interviewers were asking him questions.

“So who is this?” one interviewer asked him.

“I don’t know Z, you wanna tell her who you are?” he says from his crouched position next to his niece.

She smiled brightly for the cameras and responded with,”I’m his favorite niece. I’m Zara and I’m seven.”

“You have got to be the luckiest girl on the whole red carpet” the interviewer says.

“I am. I have the best uncle in the whole entire world. He even bought me my tiara which is made up of real sparklies not like the fake ones I have at home.”

“It’s gorgeous Zara. I’m sure it rivals anything that the Queen of England owns. So Zara, who are you wearing tonight?” the interviewer asks.

“Only the best. My uncle called his friend at YSL and they made me this dress. Isn’t it pretty?” she says as she gives a little twirl to demonstrate the swooshiness of the skirt.

“It’s absolutely stunning! You are for sure the best dressed on the whole carpet tonight.” the interviewer says. Rami chuckles and Zara beams proudly.

“So Zara, one of the questions that we’ve been asking everyone tonight is about hidden talents. Do you or your uncle have any hidden talents?”

Zara stops to think for a second before she rambles, “Yeah. I never stop talking and Uncle Rami is the best at burps and Monster Voice.”

Rami looks mildly horrified for a second before trying to intervene with a nervous chuckle.

“Z, I don’t think that’s what she means by hidden talents.”

“Monster voice?” the interviewer questions.

“Yeah. It’s this thing that he does when we play pretend sometimes. He does lots of other voices too but his Monster voice is my favorite. He’ll chase me around doing the monster voice and it’s so scary but really funny. Then when I let him catch me, he tickles me until I can’t breathe. Then I pretend to escape and I run away and he chases me again.”

“Could we hear the Monster voice?” the interviewer asks.

“No, I don’t really think that’s-”

“Please Rami? You do the best voices and I love Monster voice.”

Rami sighs and of course he’s going to do it. He never says no to little Z. He clears his throat and puts on his “Monster face” that goes with Monster voice and pretends to try and attack Z.

“Monster Rami is gonna get you!” he says, while wiggling his fingers at Z, who responds by squealing in delight and pretending to try and run away.

They finish the interview and few more that go quite similarly to how that first one went. All in all Zara was a hit on the red carpet.

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe @free-rami @txmel @r-ahh-mi @itsme690 @ramimedley @safinsscar @ladyr0b0t @youthtea @ramisgirl512 @mrhoemazzello @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @doing-all-write @itslula1991 @warmommy @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @alottanothing @mezzomercury @theultraviolencefan @the-real-ramimalekpeen @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @adoremalek @rawmemalek @lunasasylum @lablanchett @diasimar @zodiyack @sasha--1996 @will-grammer @rami-malek-trash @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Fluff #Rami Malek fanfiction #Rami Malek fanfic #Rami Malek family

35 notes · View notes

soybeantree · 4 years

Text

the party ends

pairing: chaebol!sehun x f!(reader) genre/warning: angst word count: 1.7k description: you’ve heard the story a thousand times in novels, cheesy romance adaptations, and sunday morning dramas. still that didn’t stop you from becoming a notch in his metaphorical ‘bedpost’.

There was a moment before all of this began when you told yourself you could handle it. You believed yourself and for a time afterward continued to fool yourself into thinking you still believed. But looking back now, you know the truth. The beginning had been exciting. Midnight flights around the world. Shopping sprees in all the major cities. Fast cars. Big yachts. Parties every night. There was too much to do to wonder if you enjoyed doing it. Sehun had walked out of a dream and into your life. He offered you the dream in exchange for your life. That day lives in technicolor in your memory. The sun had scared all the clouds away, so it and the sky could bathe the world in the brightest blues and yellows. Heat simmered above the sidewalk, and everyone who entered the coffee shop glistened with sweat, except Sehun. He may have, but your memory shows him fresh faced with hair effortlessly coiffed. His silk shirt billowed about him.

Sweat beaded your hairline no matter how often you wiped at it. Your work clothes bore wrinkles but were thankfully black and hid your perspiration. He ordered an iced Americano, the favorite of the day. You rang him up and expected him to be on his way. But he lingered until you met his eyes. The moment stole your breath and your senses. He smiled, a slow calculated movement, and you giggled. He had you in that moment, and he knew it. You think back to that moment often and wonder how different your life would be if you had been stronger. If you met his gaze with the same disinterested smile you used for all your customers. You didn’t though. You turned to mush. He asked a favor of you. He needed a date for an event his family was hosting. All you had to do was show up. He would provide everything. He left his card with an address and a time. If you didn’t come, he would understand. When you searched it, the address pulled the website for the oldest and most luxurious hotel in the city. Below the link for the hotel were articles about the upcoming Oh Family Gala, the most exclusive party of the season. The who’s who of the elite would be in attendance. The media would be out in full force. What everyone wanted to know is who would be accompanying the successor of the Oh Family. At the bottom of the article was a picture of Sehun. That night as you laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, you had told yourself you could handle this. You had the chance to be Cinderella, and you were going to take it. After that moment, you barreled ahead into the next five years. The tabloids said you were Sehun’s girlfriend. They said you were nothing but a gold digger. They said you were ugly and a bitch. Everyone had something to say about every aspect of your life, and a new story to tell every week. They were wrong about almost everything. You were not and have never been Sehun’s girlfriend. You started as his shield. Whenever he had a social event or family function, you would go as his date. If he wanted to travel, you would go with him. You would create drama and scandal wherever you went, and the media devoured it all. Their obsession with you allowed Sehun to go unnoticed as he lived his life. At some point during those years, you became his friend. He would whisk you around the world because he enjoyed everything more when you were with him. In the end though, you fell in love with him. Time spent with him was precious. But, he never fell in love with you. You were a gold digger, or at least you felt like one. In exchange for shielding him, Sehun bought you clothes, jewelry, shoes - paid all your expenses. As your friend, he gave you expensive presents and threw you extravagant parties. You accepted everything with open arms until you fell in love. The presents and parties became knives and stones abusing your heart. All you wanted was his love, but you knew you’d never have it. For five years, you have lived this life. Today though, you will put an end to it. A messenger arrived this morning with an invitation and a plane ticket. You ride to the airport in the car he sent, rehearsing your speech for the thousandth time. You have to be ready. You can’t let him turn your senses to mush again. He’s waiting for you in the VIP section, a glass of champagne in his hand, a tablet in his lap. The waitress offers you a drink as you sit in the chair next to him. You wave her away. You won’t be staying long enough to need one. Pulling out the ticket and invitation, you place them on the arm of Sehun’s chair. “I’m not going with you.” The champagne flute pauses against Sehun’s lips. Since that first day, you have never refused an invitation or a trip. You always have your bags packed, sitting by the front door. Sehun sips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He sets the flute down and flicks to the next page of his report. “I’m not going today, Sehun. I won’t be going anymore. I need to move on with my life.” There’s more to the speech, but the words feel hollow. So you tell him the truth. “I foolishly fell in love with you. I told myself I was fine just being near you, but that was a lie. I can’t stand in the shadows anymore. I want to meet someone who I love and who loves me, but that will never happen if I cling to you. I’m saying goodbye now. I wish you the best.” You stand. His eyes remain on his tablet where they have remained since you began. “Goodbye.” The word is an ice shard to your chest, but you’re grateful. You can go now. You can wake from this dream.

——

There was a moment before all of this began when Sehun told himself none of this would mean anything. He believed himself and for a time afterward continued to fool himself into thinking he still believed. But now, he knows the truth. When it started, the arrangement was a means to an end. The media swarmed around him, ready to expose every inch of his life. He needed someone who would cover for him and hide him from the public eye. You did everything and more. He had approached you on a whim. His mother, the media, his friends, all wanted to know who he would be bringing to the gala, all for their own reasons. He had decided to ask the first decently attractive person he saw. Entering the coffee shop, you stood behind the counter, hair pulled back and visor pulled low hiding your face. Had you said “no”, your face would have slipped from his memory. But you said “yes”, and now your face was seared into his memory. The arrangement was simple. You could have whatever you wanted. All you had to was was accompany him and cover for him. You performed your job flawlessly. The media no longer painted him as a reckless playboy. You had reformed him, seduced him, and held him under your thumb. You had not reformed him. After you agreed to the proposition, he had continued as before. You never asked him to change. As time passed though, he found himself changing. Partying and drinking lost their appeal. He enjoyed calm nights watching TV or playing games with you. Seducing him, you had done that, though unintentionally. From the beginning, you had clarified your roles, and you never stepped outside of yours. You kept your distance from him and kept to yourself during trips. Whatever presents he gave, you accepted without demanding more. Having grown up surrounded by sycophants and entitled assholes - being around you allowed him to breathe easy. If you wanted, you could have held him under your thumb, but you never flexed your influence. You would call him on his bullshit and ignore him when he acted the ass, but your only reason for doing so was to protect yourself. He found himself acting out with the hope that you would reprimand him or issue an ultimatum, but his actions only led to your seclusion. His actions marked him as witless or crazy. With his family imposing enough restrictions on him, why would he seek the same from you? A moment of jealousy afforded him the answer. Standing and watching another man whisper in your ear had left him breathless with rage. He wanted to be the man standing beside you, the only man to stand beside you. He had fallen in love with you. He wanted you to take more than a cursory interest in his affairs. He wanted you to seethe when he flirted with another girl, scold him when he returned to the hotel at five in the morning sweating alcohol. But you always remained silent and secluded yourself. That you would leave was inevitable. Everything in life comes with an expiration date. He sent the invitation and ticket the same as always. He waited for you, going through business reports. When you told him today was the end, he wrapped his emotions in an iron fist. The inevitable had come, and he would face it as he had prepared to do. When you told him you loved him, his grip vanished. His heart soared only to crash and shatter against cold, hard reality. You were leaving, and he couldn’t ask you to stay. For five years, he had stolen your time and attention. He used you and abused your emotions. His concern had been for his own well-being not yours. You deserved to find someone you loved and who loved you. More than that though you deserved someone who would stand beside you instead of behind you. Someone who would hold your hand, not fill it with jewels. Who would give instead of take. That someone wasn’t him. So when you walked away, he remained.

#sehun #oh sehun #exo #sehun drabble #sehun angst #angst #sehun fanfiction #exo drabble #exo fanfiction #hmw

34 notes · View notes

sebseyesandbuckysthighs · 5 years

Text

Three Soldiers and a Baby | Part Seven

summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?

pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventual) featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

warnings: none, just make-believe goodness

a/n: Part seven is here! It makes me so happy that so many of you have been reading and liking my little domestic Avengers series. It’s just one big fluff piece that’s totally unrealistic and huge on the fanservice cause that’s what we deserve, alright!? So yeah, I hope you enjoy this part too, you lovely people. You deserve all the fluff! ❤

*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*

| previously |

“So this is for real then?” Sam said just as they put Ellie to sleep in her bassinet for hopefully the last time before morning. “This is really happening?”

“Looks that way, pal,” Steve confirmed. “I don’t think anyone is coming to get this little girl.”

Sam nodded solemnly, the full gravity of the situation still bearing it’s burden down on him. “We gotta tell someone, man. We can’t do this ourselves.”

He didn’t even consider thinking about it, Steve was not about to risk anyone else getting involved with this. “We can’t Sam. This is on us. At least for now. When Bucky gets back–”

“He’s a dead man?” Sam interrupted.

“Among other things, yeah pretty much.”

———————————————————————

The first night passed with, thankfully, no incident. There was a harrowing moment at one point in the night as a siren echoed through the open terrace window. The sound instantly woke Sam and Steve from their spot on the couches, forcing them to jump into action and try to dull the noise before it woke the baby. In the end, they had nothing to worry about as the siren passed and the soothing sounds of Ellie’s quiet breathing kept to a steady slumbering rhythm. They barely slept for the rest of the night after that.

That next morning, the boys realized that they would have to figure something out in terms of explaining their absences to the team back at the Compound. Now that they had moved away on their own, they typically were not expected to return everyday for training, but there would be weekly meetings that they must attend. The next one wasn’t for a few more days, but they weren’t expecting Bucky to be back for quite awhile and it wasn’t like they could just hire a babysitter. Sam and Steve took time to strategize while they fed Ellie her breakfast.

In the short time that they’d all been together, Steve was grateful to find out that Ellie was a pretty well-behaved baby. She smiled and laughed a lot, cried only until she was given what she needed and slept through her naps without so much fussing. Even though she was teething, not even that seemed to bother her too much. She was just a happy baby. Although he worried for her, Steve was incredibly impressed with Ellie’s mother for raising such a sweet little girl all on her own. Whatever it was that made her decide that the only thing she could do was leave the little girl with her, essentially, estranged father must have been severe. He only wished that the woman was safe and would soon be able to reunite with her daughter. Her family. Another small part of Steve hoped that maybe the father would be a part of that family too.

“What plans did you cancel tonight?” Steve asked Sam on the third afternoon spent with Ellie in their lives.

“Dinner date with my lady.” Sam replied as he spoon fed Ellie some kind of fruit mush. “What about you?”

“Nat and I had tickets to see a show with Wanda and Viz.”

“How long are we gonna be able to keep this up?” Sam asked, not taking his eyes off of Ellie. “Good girl, El. Taste good don’t it?”

Steve smiled at the giggle that burst from Ellie’s green goo covered lips and cheeks. No matter how much of a messed up situation it was, it was never enough to make Steve forget how beautiful of a baby Ellie was.

“Yeah well no wonder she’s beautiful. She looks more like her mama than she does Barnes.” Sam would say in those moments when he caught Steve staring.

“She has Bucky’s eyes though.” Steve would stare into them, mesmerized by the beautiful blue orbs the little girl had to match her father’s. Bucky’s gonna fall in love with her at first sight I bet, Steve would think.

The next night they had just put Ellie to bed and were folding the bit of laundry they did of the clothes they bought for her earlier that day. Because as Sam said, the girl needed a bigger wardrobe. It amazed both men how expensive babies were, but when they saw Ellie in the new onesie they chose for her, they couldn’t help but forgive her. It wasn’t an easy job by any means, but together Sam and Steve were able to juggle their responsibilities with Ellie and learn more about raising a baby along the way. This wasn’t something either of them was planning on doing for the rest of their lives, but for now they would just have to make do and help however they could.

By the fourth day, they started seeing more of Ellie’s adorable personality come to light. She laughed at practically everything Sam did and would stop crying the moment Steve picked her up and rocked her gently. At one point in the day Sam checked in at the compound to get an update on Bucky’s mission. Unfortunately he couldn’t find out much aside from the fact that the estimated time of completion for this particular mission shouldn’t be for another week or two apparently.

“By Friday we have to let the other guys know, Steve. We can’t keep this between us for that long without someone getting suspicious.” Sam said as they bathed Ellie that night Tuesday night. “The last thing we need is the Avengers coming to break down our door and seeing us with a child. Imagine the questions.” Sam shuddered.

“I know, I know.” Steve agreed as he gently washed Ellie’s face with a soft cloth. The girl was a bit of a messy eater. “Just two more days until the meeting. Maybe we’ll hear from Bucky before then and figure something out.”

Sam laughed humorlessly. “Oh yeah, that’ll go over well. Tell Barnes about his offspring over the phone while he’s away on a dangerous mission.” He tickled Ellie under the chin. “What do you think, kiddo? Should we call your pops and tell him about you? The fool that he is, he might not even come home if he finds out about her.”

Steve frowned and grabbed a towel to wrap Ellie in now that they were done rinsing her off. He wouldn’t admit it just yet but this was Steve’s favorite part of the day. When he got to hold Ellie close to him and feel her little heart beating through her tiny chest. Still amazed that his best friend had helped in creating a life, and a precious one at that. Even if he didn’t know it just yet.

“Bucky wouldn’t do that, Sam, and you know it.” Steve wrapped Ellie up and kissed her forehead. “The second he finds out about her, he’s not going to want to let her go.”

“And he won’t have to if we don’t find some way to find her mother. Any luck with that yet?” Sam asked as he drained the large sink that they used as a makeshift tub for Ellie. She was still tiny enough to fit in there comfortably.

Steve shook his head while he cradled Ellie in his arms, rocking her back and forth as she bumbled in baby talk. “Unfortunately nothing. She doesn’t have any sort of social media presence. I don’t want to risk pulling up the mission file from two years ago either, just in case that rings any bells with the team. We’ll just have to wait for Buck to get home so he can hopefully fill in some blanks.”

As much as it bugged him to admit, Sam knew that Steve was right and they would just have to wait for Bucky to get back. The team would get suspicious, but as long as one of them showed up to that meeting on Friday the better off they’d be.

“Alright, gimme the kid so I can change her.” Sam said with outstretched arms, but Steve pulled away ever so slightly.

“No it’s alright, I got this. You can go get her bottle ready, though.” Steve smiled down at Ellie. “We’re gonna go get changed into our pjs. Isn’t that right, sweet girl. Time to get ready for bed.” He cooed at the little bundle in his arms, practically feeling his heart burst when she wrapped her tiny digits around his one finger. Sam watched on as Steve continued to gawk at Ellie with a big goofy loving grin on his face and couldn’t help but do the same. The little girl had effortlessly found her way into each of their hearts and held on with a tight grip. Barnes was doomed, Sam thought.

That night, like every other night this week, Sam and Steve each took up a couch in the living room while Ellie’s bassinet was rested atop the large coffee table. At first they argued over whether or not they should set her up in Bucky’s room while they stayed in their own, but that didn’t work out as both men would constantly get up in the night to check on her. Having her sleep in one of their rooms wasn’t an option either as they both argued over who’s room she would stay in. The living room was the final option and it seemed to be working out okay so far. Sam was just thankful that the men had the foresight to buy really comfortable couches.

It was past midnight when a click stirred Steve from his sleep. He thought perhaps Ellie had woken up and was fussing around in her bassinet, but when he looked over she was still sound asleep. He thought perhaps it was Sam’s light snores that woke him, but they hadn’t before and when he heard the click again he knew something was off. He tossed a pillow at Sam to wake him, gently of course, and just as he did something crashed at the front hallway. Sam was awake just as Steve leapt to grab his shield from beside the couch. Both were on high alert as to who the hell could have broken into their apartment. They both circled in front of Ellie protectively, moving forward inch by inch until suddenly all the lights went on. Steve threw his shield toward the door and instead of it knocking out whoever dared to trespass into their home, a metal hand caught it with a deafening clang.

“What the hell?” The deep sharp register of a man’s voice yelled out in the night.

“Bucky?” whispered Steve just as Sam growled, “Barnes!”

The three men stared each other down as the threat of danger faded away and heart rates returned to somewhat normal levels. Before anyone could say another word, though, there was a soft huff heard from the living room just before a wailing cry pierced into the night.

Bucky’s eyes widened dramatically and his skin paled slightly. “What the hell is that?”

———————————————————————

a/n: Well hot dang, look who’s finally home! None other than the man of the hour himself, Mr James B. Barnes! About freaking time and with that iconic line to top it. Oh, and don’t we just wish that all babies were as wonderful and too good to be true as Ellie? That’s why we write fiction, people. To fix reality with fiction is what we’re here for, dangit!

———————————————————————

Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!

———————————————————————

part six << part seven >> part eight

———————————————————————

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

———————————————————————

tags:

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #three soldiers and a baby #my writing

223 notes · View notes

bitchiloveher · 5 years

Text

I have you

pairing[s]:

Cheryl Blossom x reader

warnings: Penelope Blossom, cute Cheryl & like one bad word ??

word count: 2k+

note: hi!! this has been sitting in my notes for a while cause I was too nervous to post it… oops. anyway, hope you love it. check out my masterlist & let me know who I should start writing for next!

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You watched in amazement as your fiery girlfriend strutted across stage in bright red 80’s attire. Her angelic voice filled the auditorium and the focus was all on her as she transformed into Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch. Stage managing Heather’s the Musical has been quite frustrating, but being able to see Cheryl perform everyday was worth it.

As soon as Candy Store came to an end, you stood from your seat at Kevin’s production table. Your obnoxious clapping noises were accompanied by several woos. Cheryl’s attention fell to you, just as Kevin held his hand up in attempt to get you to shut up. You noticed his annoyance and sat back down, sending a proud smile in your girl friend’s direction and receiving a wink in return. She continued to send you cute and goofy faces while Kevin was giving notes, not caring to pay attention, already knowing her performance was perfection.

When Kevin dismissed the girls so he could move on to clean the next dance number with Toni, Cheryl hurried down the stairs to meet you, now leaning up against the front of the table. She stopped right in front of you and her scarlet lips placed a kiss on yours. In attempt to not disrupt Kevin any further, the two of you headed towards the back of the auditorium, finding seats in the far corner.

“You’re amazing, like beyond amazing.” She turns to give you a shy smile and you could instantly tell what was going through her mind. Since Cheryl was actually able to participate in the musical this year, she had been feeling sentimental about her brother not being able to cheer her on.

Your hand reached up to cup her cheek and she nuzzled into the feeling, “You know Jason would be so proud of you.”

“I know, I just wish he was here to see it.” Her head drooped further into your hand, eyes closed, taking in the warmth your palm was giving off.

“He will be. In the best seat in the house, cheering louder than anyone, including me. And that’s saying a lot.” She let out a breathy giggle and that sweet sound sent a chill down your spine.

She leaned into your shoulder, “It’s just… everyone’s families are going to be here and my wretched mother… well you know.”

Not knowing exactly how to respond, you wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. She sighed as you gently ran your fingers through her hair, placing a kiss on top of her head. You stayed that way until you had to return to your rehearsal duties.

The rest of rehearsal went by in a flash but, you weren’t able to get Cheryl’s words out of your head. She deserved the love and support that every child does and you were determined to get that for her or at least attempt to. After planting a kiss on Cheryl’s temple, you rushed out of the auditorium, telling her you’d pick her up before the weird farm party tonight.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

As you entered in through the maple leaf marked door, the rotten stench of sex and cigarettes filled the club and you cringed at the sound of faint moaning in the back. You glanced around the red room, which was obviously decorated by a Blossom, to find the woman you were looking for. She was seated behind a table in the center of the room, almost instantly groaning at the sight of you, “I don’t want your sapphic ways tainting my customers.” She made a shooing motion towards you. This woman had the special talent of pissing you off so easily, everything she did made your blood boil.

“Oh, get over it, I won’t be here for long. I just came to give you this.” You pulled an envelope out of your jacket pocket. Penelope looked down to it and back up to you, raising an eyebrow. You pushed it across the table in her direction, holding eye contact. Penelope gave you one of her famous looks and took her time opening it and reading the ticket precisely.

She scoffed, “You think I have any interest in attending a pathetic high school production?”

“Absolutely not, but I’m here for Cheryl.” Penelope rolls her eyes at the sound of her daughters name. You could not fathom how she could be filled with such hatred for the most precious girl in the world. “I for one, think she’s better off without you, but everyone craves their mother’s love and I can’t blame her for that.” Her face stayed emotionless, you were getting nowhere. “I bought you the ticket, it’s your choice if you actually show up or not.”

“You wasted your money.” She closed the envelope and attempted to hand it back to you, but you just stood there, arms crossed over your chest.

Not wanting to leave her with the last word, you placed both hands on the table, leaning in closer, “You only have one member of your family left, do not take her for granted.” You didn’t expect it to sound like a threat, but it did and that was fine with you. You headed towards the door, but decided to look back to Penelope, “You never know how much time you have left with someone, I thought you out of all people would understand that.” With that you shook your head in disappointment as you made your exit from the Maple Club, hoping she would come to her senses by opening night.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

As the show came to an end, you applauded the cast along with the audience as they ran on stage to take their bow. You peeked out of the left downstage wing as Cheryl entered, sandwiched between B and V. Right when those three hit the stage, the crowd went wild. The entire fifth row stood, aggressively shouting and clapping their hands together. You squinted your eyes together to hopefully get a clearer view of the culprits… your family. You could hear your mother’s loud whistle and your other mom’s voice shouting, “THAT’S OUR GIRL!” You hoped to God they weren’t embarrassing your girlfriend, but seeing the smile that graced Cheryl’s face brought one to your own.

The curtains closed and your classmates rushed backstage to change out of costume and greet everyone. You stayed behind to clean the stage off, reset the props for tomorrow and make sure the auditorium was locked up. Assuming everyone would be out of the dressing rooms you headed in to tidy up a bit. You took care of the guy’s room first, which you assumed would be way worse than the girl’s and you were right.

You stepped into the girl’s dressing room, shocked to see those perfect red curls you knew so well. “Babe? I didn’t expect you to still be back here. I thought we were going to meet out front?”

“I wanted to wait for you.” She shrugged, continuing to fix her lipstick.

You smirked while watching her, “Nice try, but I know you’re lying.”

“Am not.” She stayed facing the mirror, not daring to look you in the eyes. You could now tell something was wrong, whenever Cheryl avoided eye contact, you knew she was hiding something. You grabbed the chair from Betty’s spot and pulled it beside Cheryl so you were facing her.

She still wasn’t looking in your direction, “Love, why don’t you tell me the real reason?”

She huffed and placed the cap back on her lipstick. “Why would I go stand out there all alone? It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me with a bouquet to tell me what a marvelous job I did. To save myself from embarrassment, I stayed back here.” Her eyes met yours and you could see the tears begin to well up in her eyes.

You let out a sigh and comfortingly placed both hands on her thighs, “I know for sure there is a crowd of people out there waiting to tell you how phenomenal and beautiful you were and are. I can promise you that.” As a blush covered her cheeks, she placed her hands over yours while smiling sweetly at you. You carefully removed a hand of yours from her grasp and wiped a fallen tear of hers away with your thumb. “How about we go out there together, say hello to all your fans, then head to Pop’s for a celebratory cherry phosphate?” You suggested with a smirk, knowing she wouldn’t be able to turn that down.

“That sounds perfect, y/n.” She stood up and laced your fingers together. You pulled her back towards you, smiling into a kiss. Her free hand instantly found your cheek, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. When you both pulled away, her eyes were filled with pure adoration.

“I love you.” No matter how many times she’s said that to you, it never got old.

“You know how I feel about you.” You started to head to the door, back to her so she couldn’t see how flustered you were.

“Nuh-uh, get back here!” You felt her hands snake around your waist and pull you back towards her. She twisted you around noticed the pink in your cheeks.

“I love you too, goober.” She planted a kiss on your nose. “Now let’s get out of here, we can’t keep those fans of yours waiting!!” You grabbed her bag for her and rushed to the backstage door hand-in-hand.

When you opened the door and the crowd saw Cheryl they started cheering. Her smile was a wide as you could possibly imagine, but it dropped when Cheryl’s eyes blinked back in shock as her mother approached the two of you. “Mother?”

“You actually came.” You stated simply. You were also very surprised, but you weren’t going to let her know that.

Cheryl turned to you with a confused look on her face, but before you could say anything Penelope spoke up, “She…” A look was sent your way, “showed up at my Maple Club, earlier this week with a ticket. Undoubtedly disrupting my clients with her pitiful whining about what a horrendous mother I am and how I should be ashamed.”

You mumbled under your breath, “Which you should.”

“You did that for me?” She looked taken back, but in a good way. You gave her a small nod.

“Cheryl.” Penelope pulled her attention back and locked eyes with her daughter’s hopeful ones. You could tell she didn’t know what to say. It seemed like she wanted to compliment her, but affectionate words weren’t in Penelope Blossom’s vocabulary. “I should be going.” Her lips formed a tight line and she turned on her heels, making her exit.

You stood there with Cheryl as she watched her mother leave without a care in the world, “I don’t understand why she came. She didn’t say anything kind…” Cheryl looked to you, searching for an explanation.

“But she came and she also didn’t say anything hurtful. I think that’s a win… or at least a step in the right direction.” You gave her an encouraging smile.

“I guess.” She shrugged, looking somewhat disappointed.

You turn so you were fully facing her, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interfered. I just wanted you to have a chance at the family you deserve.” Your fingers found their way into hers again. You constantly held her hand so she always knew you were there for her.

“I have you.” She ran her other hand down your arm and slipped it into yours and leaned into you, your lips waiting to meet her’s, but a loud familiar voice calling your names pulled your attention away.

Your eyes met the sight of your family rushing through the crowd to get to you both. “There she is!” Your mothers swiftly pushed you to the side and engulfed Cheryl in their famous double-the-love-hug. “Honey, you were amazing!” You can tell Cheryl is stunned by the affection when you see the expression on her face.

Your older brother pats her lightly on the shoulder, “You killed it, Red.” Your best friend brings her in for a hug, “Holy crap, C. That was WOW.” You just watch in awe as your girlfriend is finally getting the love she deserves.

There is a tap on her leg and Cheryl looks down to see a tiny body hidden behind a bouquet of red roses. Your little sister held up the flowers, with a big smile on her face. Cheryl bent down, “Are these for me?” Your sister nodded and handed the roses to Cheryl.

Your sister smiled, “You look so pretty, just like your voice. It’s very pretty when you sing.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you so much!” Instead of responding, your sister attacked her with a big hug. This took Cheryl by surprise, but nonetheless she squeezed back.

“Cheryl, we were hoping you would let us take you out for dinner at Pop’s, to celebrate.” Your moms stood side by side, hands clasped together waiting for a response.

“I would love nothing more!” The smile on her face was to die for.

“Well there goes our original plans.” You teased.

“You get her everyday, you can share for one night.” Your mother complained as she laid an arm across Cheryl’s back, pulling her in for a side hug.

“I suppose so.” You dramatically let out while playfully rolling your eyes.

“Alright, we’ll meet you both outside. There is a huge crowd waiting to see you, take your time.” Your mother told Cheryl, just before your family weaseled their way through the crowd.

You turned to see Cheryl already looking in your direction, her eyes smiling with happiness, “And now you have them.”

—

↳ xo m.j.

232 notes · View notes