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warrior-u-preservation · 1 year

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Interview with The Path Podcast (Full written responses)

(Note: The interview itself will be different, since mod myne represented both mods on the podcast. However, this includes our full feelings on the questions that were provided to us.)

Who are you and how did you end up walking the path of a "warrior u" writer/comic creator?

Myne: I go by worldismyne for fandom related pursuits.

I'd like to clarify that Aisha Thani is the creator of Warrior U. Just like multiple people have written for Stan Lee's creations, I'm just a writer who's received permission from the creator to distribute and monetize works within her universe.

I've been in the WU fandom since 2014; at that time Aisha made the comic, ran an in character ask blog, a concept art blog and the main blog. I can only imagine how much work that was. A hard drive crash killed about 6 or so pages of Ambrosia, the last story arch she was working on; three weeks worth of updates up and gone. I watched writer’s block take hold and kill my favorite series in real time. Having to go back and redo work she’d already done had given her time to look at it and go ‘I can’t post this, this is awful’, but by then all of us were waiting for the next update for over a month, she couldn’t go back and rewrite the entire arch. It didn’t help that this was the origin story for a fan favorite character, so there was all this pressure to make it perfect. Instead, after about six artists made fan comics to feed the hungry fandom… she announced the end. The website, the blogs, one by one they all ran into issues and got shut down. Hundreds of pieces of art and story concepts just… lost. Once the comics were rereleased on gumroad, that was it, the fandom slowly died. Before this project, the last time the creator posted new content was in 2017. Then in the middle of the pandemic, out of nowhere I get 70+ notifications from Coffee reblogging the pieces of art I had saved from the old blog, including drafts from the unfinished issues.

Coffee: well, i go by coffee online, im 20 years old and when im not working on my various personal projects i work part-time. i was introduced to warrior u WAYY back in the day (i think i was like 9-ish?) by my brother who found out about it through some unknown and mysterious ways. back then i had very limited internet access (meaning i could only visit sites that could be loaded by the internet app on my nintendo dsi), so i pieced together a bit of a plot from what i could find on google images. i wasnt able to fully read the comic until i was 13 (i had to BEG my mom to pay for the pdfs lol), but it had kinda always existed in the back of my mind ever since i was introduced to it. i decided a little over a year ago to start out the tumblr blog because i had recently read through the comic again and was really sad about just how hard it is (or i guess WAS now) to find a lot of things related to the comic. as the name of the blog suggests, its original purpose was to preserve/archive warrior u stuff so it could be more accessable to your average internet user who might not wanna go digging through internet archives. it was originally for official content EXCLUSIVELY, but myne talked me into also including fan-made content (and im glad he did, its WAY harder to find some fan content than i remember it being just a few years ago). its kinda hard to tell how good of a job it does at BEING that archive, but i like to think it could be useful to someone out there.

i had toyed with the idea of finishing the last official story arc- ambrosia- near the beginning of the blogs lifespan, but i knew that it was too big of a project for me to do myself. i didnt wanna dissapoint people by leaving the ALREADY unfinished arc STILL unfinished. i had written in the "about" section of the blog that the dream was a full fandom revival, but i didnt actually expect that to happen. when myne joined the blog we eventually started playing with the idea of finishing ambro. i forget how exactly we officially decided we would do it, but we did! at some point near the beginning of ambro, we had also decided we were gonna write our own fan-arcs and post those too, and the rest is history!

What was it about warrior u that made you say "this is it. i need to make more content of this."

Coffee: honestly? i think it was just how much i enjoy introducing people to the comic. i already make tons of fan content on my own time, so that wasnt really the crazy part. i had shown a couple of my mutuals the comic after i re-read it, and the feeling of seeing other people actually talk about and even make ART of warrior u was absolutely surreal. i guess thats what happens when you just silently admire a dead fandom for years LMAO! another big part of it was HOW the comic ended. after taking a hiatus, the creator ended the comic mid-arc because creating it just wasnt enjoyable anymore, and thats obviously completely fair. however, the arc it ENDED on was elaborating on the backstory of one of (if not THE) most popular characters at the time (and my personal favorite), so i had always wished that the issue could have been finished. its kinda hard to put into words, but finishing ambrosia was like a love letter to the comic and its creator to me. as flawed as the plot of that arc may be (and as unsatisfied with it as the creator was, at least back then) i still felt like it deserved to be finished. it was like fixing an old toy from your childhood, i felt like we were taking care of the comic in a way, giving it the love it deserves. maybe thats just my tendency to personify objects and get overly attached to them coming through, but hey thats how it is sometimes LMAO

Myne: When the comic was still on hiatus after the harddrive crash, some people had asked Aisha if she wanted to hand the series over to other artists to help her. She said she wouldn’t even know where to begin that process or if she’d wanted to do it. I would have offered then, but my skills as an artist and a writer weren’t nearly as strong. I held onto the drafts thinking, one day I’d do it.

Myne: After Coffee and I started talking I realized, I can do it now. I know what kind of style of pens were used, and I whipped up a page, just the line art and sent to Coffee as a thank you. I thought, it isn’t much, and it’ll take me forever to color everything, but if there’s one person willing to read it, I’ll try. When I explained how difficult it’d be for me to color, he offered to do it for me. Suddenly a page that would take a month for just me to do on my own took 3 days.

Myne: Something, that seemed like a monumental task became a realistic goal. We were able to find, restore, and edit 45 pages within a few months. I’m still amazed we were able to do weekly updates without missing a day. Coffee asked if I’d ever be willing to write fan issues while we were working, not realizing I was the author of the longest fics in the series. Of course I said yes. Seeing Warrior U get finished, even through fan creation, was something I’d wanted to see for years.

You're from Az right, how is the webcomic weeb culture over there as opposed to california?

Myne: Idk about much about Cali, I've noticed the cons are more... professional? Where as Arizona cons have more of a fanclub vibe. Most panels are hosted by your fellow nerds rather than sony or production companies. I will say, that it's become more common and widespread in the last ten years, with multiple anime specific events year round. Back when I was a kid, I'd get made fun of for drawing 'japanese' people all the time.... it was pokemon fanart... Where as nowadays, I feel the average kid recognizes most big name titles thanks to hulu and such.

What are your favorite anime/manga/webcomics and do any inspire your work?

Coffee: not really an anime, manga, or webcomic, but ive always been super inspired by the "scott pilgrim" series. when i was in middle school i was SUPER into it, reading all the behind the scenes stuff i could find. it even made me look into "comic illustrator" as a career option, but i also did the same thing with "game designer" and "animator" so yknow. as for webcomics, the only one i ever really got into was homestuck. side note- the overlap of oldschool homestuck fans and warrior u fans is FASCINATING to me. my current theory is that all these tumblr kids were looking for other webcomics to read while homestuck was on one of its MANY hiatuses(?) and so a bunch of them flocked to warrior u! theres tons of homestuck crossover content and references in fan art on our blog (some of the art styles also look homestuck-ajacent) so its at least clear that a lot of fans back then were also really into homestuck. ANYWAYS other than that i havent really read many other webcomics tbh? weird considering i MAKE one now but what can i say, im more of a Gamer than anything lol. as for anime, my favorite is easily keroro gunso (or sgt. frog if youre using the dub name)! its another thing i discovered when i was young (this time i was like 8) and have just never gotten over. theres a lot of Questionable stuff in it (prime example is an adult alien being madly in love with a 14 year old girl) but if i dont look at canon its not real so i love it anyways <3.i honestly dont know how many people really know about it since the western fanbase is so small, but its like HUGE in japan (or at least it was at one point, the titular keroro has a cameo in lucky star as a keychian) and the manga is still running to this day iirc. it was created by mine yoshizaki and the basic premise is that a platoon of frog-like aliens come to earth to take it over but they really suck at it. they begin living with humans and from there its kind of a mix between a slice-of-life and monster-of-the-week anime. i cant really say anything in depth about the manga because ive only read the first 5 issues of it, which are basically the same as the anime (fake fan smh), but ive heard that it gets more mature and serious than the anime does (which i guess is bound to happen when it goes on for so long). also the manga has some ecchi moments and blood used for slapstick purposes so if anyone wants to check it out just keep that in mind lol.

Myne: Obviously Warrior U. I'm a bit of a visual novel fiend, so Danganronpa is a series I've found a lot of inspiration from over the years. More recently Though for the comic, I draw mostly from late 80s / early 90s high fantasy. Things like Labyrinth and Robinhood: Men in Tights. Honestly anytime I get stuck trying to come up with a gag, I look to Mel Brooks.

So in continuing someone else's work, do you feel a sense of pressure to be just as good as the original?

Coffee: i definitely felt that way when it came to ambrosia, but i feel a lot less pressure when it comes to our upcoming issues. i wrote and made thumbnails for a few small scenes in ambro and i was SO SCARED of those scenes being noticably worse than the rest of the issue. i know the original creator has seen our version of ambro and those scenes by extention, but i dont know her exact thoughts on them. im satisfied with them but theres probably always gonna be that kinda star-struck stage feeling at the thought of the creator reading the scenes i wrote. its like getting stage fright. for our upcoming issues i dont feel as much pressure because theyre fully fan-written. our comics arent official in any sense of the word and theyre basically just fanfiction with extra steps, so its not nearly as stressful as trying to tie together an "official" story. there definitely WOULD be that pressure if we were ever given the rights to warrior u or something (which i dont want to happen) because then it WOULD be official yknow? also if the creator decides to keep up with what we post ill feel a bit more pressure, but i get the feeling that she wants to distance herself from warrior u a bit so im not sure how likely that would be.

Myne: I do. Partially because, the fan content we’re making is completely free while the original series is purchasable on gumroad. So there’s a chance that some people may start with what we’re working on, then go backwards to the original. I'm hyper aware of the tonal shift that's about to happen, no matter how much I try, I can't perfectly emulate someone else's writing style. The best I can do is capture the spirit of it. I just keep repeating "it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be". It's a little harder taking that advice now that it's my scripts we're turning into issues. There is some freedom in knowing the series was never meant to be perfect though.

What drove you to writing the longest fanfiction for the series and how did it feel to be recognized and promoted by the original creator?

Myne: When I was younger, I would write fanfic instead of paying attention in class, and I really wanted a full story about the leads getting together. Knowing that the creator was reading every fanfic at the time added more fuel to the fire. I had a guaranteed audience, the audience. I was so grateful that she recommended it to other fans. That fic was 25k, I've written about 100 K in the last year to help maintain interest in addition to new pages to the comic. To that I blame hyperfixation and hiatus brain. You have to be the biggest fan of the thing you're making.

So i see the that most of your work including the webcomic Warrior U is on tumblr why did u choose to promote om tumblr as opposed to other webcomic outlets like webtoons, mangadex etc?

Coffee: the answer to this one is actually pretty simple; i already had a warrior u blog and tumblr is the social media/blogging site that im most familiar with! we have recently started using comicfury and tapas, but that was entirely mynes idea. im personally pretty content with just hanging out in my little corner of the internet so any attempts to expand or get the word out is mostly (if not entirely) mynes doing LOL!

Myne: It's interesting you bring up those two actually. Webtoons recently come under fire for being pretty crummy to it's indie comics, particularly if you write in any genre other than romance. Mangadex is a pirating website, so most of the comics there are fan translations rather than uploads from the creators : they had a pretty bad data breach a few years back too. At first we only had permission from the creator to upload on tumblr. Once we got permission to move forward with the fanmade run, we branched out to tapas and comicfury. They seemed like the best options for the genre and style we write in. Even still, we see about double the growth in readership on tumblr as opposed to the other outlets, and I think that's mostly because the blog updates daily, even though we only publish one page a week.

Do you have any plans on creating your own webcomic/manga?

Coffee: yes and no. i sometimes draw small fan comics and id like to make more polished and "finished" ones in the future, but nothing with any kind of overarching plot, at least not in the near future. i have a very hard time making original content for whatever reason. i DO have one (1) personal project that is completely original, but i plan on making a game with that. then again i have NO idea what im doing with that project anymore so who knows, maybe one day i WILL decide to turn it into a comic! only time will tell…

Myne: I have a visual novel I'm working on. It's about teen super villains that have to go to reform school. Think teen titans meets gifted kid burnout. The game's been in development hell since our first alpha build and writing about apocalyptic civil unrest wasn't as fun as it was pre 2020. We're about 200k into the draft for the full game and we're having to switch engines, which means cutting a bunch of features, but we're slowly getting there. If that fails, I'll try adapting the story into a comic.

To those people who will see this and decide to strut down the path of comic creation what is some advice you can give them?

Coffee: i think the most HELPFUL advice i could give would be this: you dont have to do everything by yourself. i personally have taken tons of inspiration from indie artists/game designers/etc. some prime examples of this are daisuke amaya aka pixel (who created cave story) and toby fox (who created undertale and deltarune), who both made incredible pieces of art that were defining to me as a person when i discovered them either entirely alone or almost entirely alone. you hear stories all the time of these great pieces of art being made by one or two people, and ive always wanted to be like that. as a result ive alwasy had a hard time reaching out for help when it comes to my art, feeling like if i cant do it all alone that itll never be as good as it could be. as a result though, all this mindset does is keep things from actually getting done and needlessly stress you out. NONE of the warrior u comics would exist if i had never gotten help from myne, and the blog would have probably gone inactive a LONG time ago too. i think thats the biggest lesson ive learned from this whole thing personally. theres absolutely no shame in working with a team of people if thats what needs to happen to see a project be realized.

Myne: One, try not to put more than 8 panels on a page, that's helped me a bunch with page layout. And two, find someone you can show your work to. That can be a friend, a mutual online, a family member; as long as you have that one person asking "what happens next" you can keep writing. The stories/comics I have that are the longest are because of that.

What inspires your art and what would u say you consider your style to be?

Myne: Invader Zim, Danganronpa, and Pacthesis have heavily influenced my art style. (pacthesis made a series of free dating sims on deviant art). I've always considered my art style to be pretty shoujo manga, but lately some of my pieces have been labeled too western for weeb spaces.

What advise can you give the next person who wants to draw art and share it with the world?

Coffee: i give the same advice to everyone i meet that says theyre thinking of making art in any form, and i mean it from the bottom of my heart: DO IT! im so in love with art of all kinds and the process of creating it, and i think that getting into any creative hobby is nothing but a good thing and i deeply believe that everyone should do it. whether you wanna draw, write, make music, develop games, sculpt, knit, etc, do it! quality doesnt matter at all, you can make the most technically awful thing in the world but as long as you enjoyed the process of creating it then it still has value. dont be nervous about your art being good enough. if you dont want to share it then you arent obligated to! i dont share like 90% of the stuff that i make but i still create art almost every single day! recently my qpp (queerplatonic partner) has gotten into drawing and im SO happy for them. they primarily use mspaint and a mouse to draw and their art is SO adorable and i love it so much, and im not just saying that because i love them. it doesnt matter what skill level you start at or what tools you have, you can always start making art. and dont compare the art that you make to others art, which i know from experience is a VERY easy trap to fall into. i dont have as much to say about that point because im not as passionate about it but uhhh yeah :3

Myne: Social media algorithms are not going to make you happy; no matter how well you play the game and low engagement does not mean you're a bad artist. If you keep posting and talking to other artists, you'll find your audience.

So at wonder con where we met ylu were cosplaying power from chainsaw man with a group of girls who were cosplaying other chainsaw characters. Do you girls normally group up and cosplay and if so how did you get into it?

Myne: I was born into cosplay. My parents were gamers and cosplayers, and I started picking my own characters to cosplay when I was 14. I started getting more into it in college when I could find other people to cosplay with, it wasn't until this year I started aiming for photoshoots. I tend to be in at least one large group cosplay a con, and bring a different costume every day.

What was your favorite cosplay you've done?

Myne: It's a toss up between Persona 5 Joker and Alluring Secret Rin. Those were the ones I put the most work in that still hold up. Though I'm currently working on Eris from the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and that may overtake them.

Have you ever thought to cosplay someone from Warrior U?

Myne: I do actually! I've cosplayed as the main character Finn a few times. I really like taking simplified designs from comics/cartoons and turning them into heavily detailed looks. '

Where do you see warrior u being in 5 years from now?

Coffee: man, honestly if were STILL working on this project 5 years from now that would be CRAZY. this is already the longest ive worked on a single project before, along with being the most ive ever gotten DONE for a project, so thinking about what it could be like in 5 years is like. WOW. by that point we would have archived most (if not ALL) of the older stuff we could find, so our blog would probably just be new pages and fan interaction if were still going! the dream is still for a full fandom revival, and weve already got a small active fanbase (of like 5 people but still) so who knows, maybe that dream will be a reality?

Myne: We have at least 3 years worth of story drafted and lined up, and even more outlined. So ideally still updating. By then, we'll have some physical releases of the finished arcs that we've written available for purchase online and at select events. The creator has said she has no interest in making physical releases of the original run. I'd love for that to change, but I respect her decision and I won't press the matter. I'm just grateful we have permission to sell anything we make using her characters.

If you could go back in time 5 years, what advice would you give yourself?

Coffee: 15 and 16 were ROUGH ages for me tbh. i wont get into it because its super personal, but i was struggling with a lot and just generally not having a very good time. i think the best advice i could give to myself would just be that like. things will eventually get better. no matter how dark or hopeless things may be, theres always a silver lining and a light at the end of the tunnel. now if 15 year old me would have taken that to heart is a whole DIFFERENT question, but thats what i would say. 16 was like right before i (finally) started getting treatment for my mental health, so i think considering everything thats what i would say.

Myne: So many bad things happened during those five years, but… I wish I knew what burnout felt like, so I could recognize it. I have this tendency to put my self worth into “how much have you done today”, so once I started working full time and my father passed, I couldn’t recognize that I was physically and emotionally exhausted some days and needed rest, so I’d just punish myself mentally for not being more motivated. You shouldn’t need permission to rest, and I felt like I had to. It’s healthy to ‘nothing’ sometimes, especially if you’re dealing with things you have no control over.

Coffee: thank you for interviewing myne and i for your podcast :D!! its absolutely wild to think that ive done anything interview-worthy and yet here we are! for anyone thats interested in the comic because of this, i also emplore you to go check out the creators current comic "si3lah" (pronounced like si-ayn-lah i think? the 3 is a stand-in for an arabic letter) on gumroad! it deserves way more attention than it currently has and you should 100% go support the original creator if you like the stuff we do (wink wink).

#mod speak #interview #official

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maddam101 · 26 days

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Welcome

•This is my second blog, idk why I specifically made it but I’m gonna use it for something. Even if it’s for stupid/unnecessary things.

•My personal and OG blog isn’t gonna be as aesthetically pleasing but idc it’s my baby and I like the way it is now. so here, is gonna be the only place I’ll care about the image and visuals on it.

•I would write one-shots but I’m not emotionally stable or emotionally smart/capable of writing romance. There are reasons for it but I’m still learning about it, so for now it’s for private reasons. However, that won’t stop me from sharing my fav songs at the moment (I listen to everything so there’s enough to constantly share). My fav shows, groups, fandom, anime’s, movies, moods, etc etc.

•I’m a fan of almost every fandom you can imagine. Besides furries, 30-year-olds sexualizing and cosplaying as minors from animes (sorry it's a personal problem I have with that specifically), and things like that. (I would never be anything like that but if you are one, don’t take it offensively or personally, I just can’t ever see the reason or attraction to what you like nor will I ever).

•My bday is Jan 1st so I’m like a pure Jan Capricorn, I take that shit with pride too even if I don’t know too much about zodiacs. So if you ever wanna give cool and random facts about them, please do, I love hearing about it. But keep it interesting bc I get bored very easily lol.

•I do say very out-of-pocket things so if you are young and still have to lie about the year you were born to create an account on here, I’d feel more comfortable if you click off, but I know I can’t control you so what you see, read, hear, or find out, is your fault and you can’t blame or take any fault out on me at all even if the root came from me on here. You should’ve known what you possibly can see or find out when you create your Tumblr account. So don’t be a problem we def. Don’t need it.

•also I allow you to vent in my DMs, but do be aware, due to my childhood traumas that have mentally shaped me today, I’m very blunt and can’t give the best advice, I’m more of a fact girlie than an emotional one. So I’ll most likely give some tough love, if you can��t handle it (not in a mean way but in a way meaning, you need to be told gently or kindly) I’m not the person you should be venting to.

•also, I will joke about my absent mother, you can laugh. She’s not here to stop me from making them or stop you from laughing. So don’t feel bad. My trauma is my trauma and I can choose how to act and reflect on it. So I choose to have dark humor. (can't forget about my asshole of a father, boy how I wish he was the one who'd go to the store to get milk 💀. Again, I'm a proud oversharer so leave if you have a problem with it. Like rn. If my humor doesn’t fit with you then don’t comment hateful shit bc I love blocking bitches so try me. N e ways, just scroll past me or leave my blog, I only want good vibes and fun times).

•If you read this all, thanks bc I let Grammarly do the test of the work after typing it and I didn’t read it through all the way, word for word. So congrats (I will later on when I feel like it but not rn)

My personal blog

#introduction #I'm a female #18 #2nd blog #im american #Jan Capricorn #I'm a ISTJ #wings: 6w5 #online 24/7 #i am a type 6 on enneagram #subtype: self-preserving #Im just a girl tryna breathe so let me dawg

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blackbird-brewster · 10 months

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It's done.

Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 3, is done.

I could ramble for hours about how I feel right now and as much as I'd love to lie and say I'll try to be a bit succinct to spare you all a long, emotional essay -- that's not happening. My blog, my feels.

I think it's important for me to start by saying, 'Fooled Around' was a miracle project, it brought me out of years of writers' block. Up until July 2022, I had been writing-retired for seven years. There were a few times during that hiatus where I tried to write, but the words always felt forced and disingenuous. I honestly believed I'd never write fanfic again -- then one night, out of nowhere, I got a comment on an old fic and it reignited my passion.

I spent that whole night re-reading my old works, delving into my personal archives, reading the outlines of WIPs that were never finished and that's when I came across my original outline from 2015 for a Jemily fanfic based on 'Imagine Me and You'.

I even had a couple of chapters already written from back then, it wasn't very good, it was admittedly just a scene-for-scene remake.

And for whatever reason, after seven years, I saw this WIP and went "Huh, I think I'd like to finish that."

With that, Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) was born. I wrote the entirety of Part 1 in ten days and the thing was, it wasn't even labelled 'Part 1' because I had no intention of making this into a series when I was writing it.

But by the time I had it fully posted, I already realised how much I wanted to keep writing these characters. When I began Part 2 in September 2022, there were only TWO other fics on AO3 in the JJ/Tara tag (there are now 26!). I loved writing their story and creating my polyam OT3 which I lovingly call, Je T'Emily.

Part 2 took less than three weeks to write and when it was complete, it was my longest fic to date (87k) and this time, I really did feel contented with where the story ended.

Afterwards, I worked on other projects, wrote tons and tons of new fics, including my 101k Jemily saga: i can't be wrong (to be craving you).

All the while, my Fooled Around characters started popping up in the back of my mind again, little plot bunnies rattling around, keeping me up at night, until finally, I sat down in May and said 'What could Part 3 be about?'

What I never expected was for this fic to take SEVEN months to write. Previously, the longest I had ever spent on a single project was four months and those were babies compared to Part 3.

Part 3 not only eclipsed my previous 101k WC record for longest fic, it more than DOUBLED that. In the end, this fic turned out to be 220,000 words long (equivalent to a 960 page novel).

I wish I was the type of person who could be proud of their own achievements, but I'm not. Even as I write this, there's part of me saying just delete and never post it, because no one cares about any of this -- but I'm fighting that little voice, because I truly do want to document how it feels to complete such a massive fic.

I poured hundreds of hours into this story, I did SO much editing, so much re-writing, re-working. I had a total of four main characters, their individual plots, plus SIX other characters, and their subsequent side-plots. To weave threads and continuity through a project spanning seven months of work was no easy feat.

I learned so much about myself in the process. Both regarding my writing styles, my stamina, and the dire need for me to find balance with writing and my own well-being. I pushed myself into burnout and the last few months have been really difficult on me, but I was determined to finish what I started.

And now, I have.

Six months of weekly updates and it all ends this Friday and I couldn't be happier.

To any of my readers who have made it this far, thank you. Your weekly comments and support really were the motivation that kept me going through the worst of it. Please know your usernames are all known well amongst me and my partner, because I share all of your comments with them and rave about how amazing you all are for coming on this journey with me.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. We may not know each other outside of AO3 comments or tumblr, but please know, I consider each and every one of you to be my friends and I cannot express my gratitude enough.

Pleased to tell you all, Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) will be back next year. Not as anything as massive as Part 3, but I'm planning to write a series of individual character epilogues to wrap up the series.

Until then, X.

#faafil #faafil3 #my writing #about me 2k23 #I'm so emotional #je t'emily

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #tw character ‘death’#tw dub con #soulmate au #I’m not even sorry #except I am #lmao last one I promise

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jlalafics · 3 years

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"Photograph"-a Royal!Everlark story

This was inspired by this prompt from @writing-prompt-s:

When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse” again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country… where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid.

This is totally unedited. Thank you to @sparklingdust4612 for bringing this prompt to my attention. Looking forward to everyone else's interpretations along with this one and the story by @jhsgf82!

I actually have more of this but I thought I'd show y'all a little bit of my interpretation of the above prompt.

****

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen, still…

-Ed Sheeran

Photograph

Katniss Everdeen loved building castles.

In the massive sandbox, she packed another bunch of sand into her bucket before placing it upside down to set. While waiting, Katniss imagined how she would decorate the inside of her palace, a delighted smile growing on her face as she thought of the possibilities.

First, the walls would all be yellow. Not the ugly yellow that looked like snot—but yellow like Prim’s, her baby sister, golden locks.

Yellow meant hope: that’s what Daddy always said.

Knocking on the sides of the bucket to loosen the sand like Mommy showed her, Katniss slowly lifted it revealing a perfect tower for her castle.

“Yes!” she hollered, jumping up in excitement.

Her eyes went to Mommy who was sitting on the bench across the way. She was talking to a pretty, yellow-haired woman with a big tummy. Prim was asleep in her stroller, her binky hanging from her mouth.

“Mommy!” Katniss rushed over, stopping just a scant from toppling over on the concrete. “Look! I’ve made the perfect tower!”

Her mother smiled proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Katniss.” She turned to the woman next to her. “My Katniss is always building and dreaming on how to make her perfect home. Her teachers tell me that she has such a creative mind for a seven-year-old.”

“How absolutely charming,” the woman responded kindly, a smile on her pink lips.

Katniss tilted her head at the sound of her voice. There was something different about the way the lady talked—the dips of it sounded strange—but still nice.

“Why do you sound like that?” she asked bluntly.

Her Mommy frowned. “Katniss Everdeen! Please apologize!” She looked to the woman once more. “I’m so sorry—”

“That’s perfectly alright,” the lady assured her. The pretty woman turned to Katniss. “I have a little bit of an accent because of where I’m from, that’s why my voice sounds different.”

Katniss nodded. “Okay, but it does sound nice…like a song!” She smiled. “What’s your name?”

The woman glowed like an angel. “My name is Marguerite.”

“Hello Miss Marguerite.” Katniss looked to where her sandcastle waited. “I better go before someone takes my stuff! Bye!”

Throwing a wave at the woman, she plopped back down onto her space in the sandbox ready to add some detailing to her newest tower—

The foot crushing her tower landed straight in the middle of it creating a space between each side.

Katniss fumed and her eyes went up to the blond-haired boy with the snooty face.

She stood, her hand slamming into his chest. “Hey! You destroyed my castle!”

The boy stared at her in shock. “No one ever touches me!”

“Until now—”

Katniss was suddenly blocked by another boy, tall and dark-skinned.

“No one touches his royal highness,” he declared, and the blond boy stuck his tongue at her.

Another boy, this one dark-haired and sharp-eyed, approached.

“Prince Peeta has decided that you will be his bride,” he stated with a scowl.

Katniss made a face, crossing her arms to show them how disgusting that sounded. “Gross.”

The so-called Prince Peeta walked over to her.

“As my bride, you can make as many sandcastles as you want,” he explained. “I’ll build a bigger sandbox than this for you!”

Something inside zinged at the thought. “Really?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Katniss eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?”

Peeta shifted in his stance, the confidence in his blue eyes suddenly wavering. “I like your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

A rise of pink colored his cheeks. “They’re soft…and pretty.”

That had been it for her.

On that warm afternoon, by the swings of District 12’s only playground, Katniss Everdeen married the so-called Prince Peeta.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Gale, the dark-haired boy, said. He looked at Peeta, a teasing smile on his face. “Go on—kiss her!”

“Close your eyes,” Peeta told her.

Katniss, wearing her paper towel veil courtesy of the park’s public bathroom, did what he said and closed her eyes.

SPLAT!

She barely registered being shoved down into the muddy puddle.

Katniss looked up at the sneering boy, feeling the rise of anger in her body.

“That’s what you get for pushing me.”

++++++

Twenty years later…

“Katniss.” She looked up from laptop to find Prim at her open doorway. Her sister held out a Fed-Ex envelope. “This just came for you.”

Without even glancing at it, Katniss tossed the envelope on her bed, going back to the open page on her screen.

“Don’t you want to open it?” Prim stepped into the room and plopped onto the bed, picking the post up to examine it. “It looks important.”

“Probably one of those things saying that I’m eligible for another credit card.” Katniss frowned, sitting back, and staring at the blinking cursor. “I’m so stuck on this blog post!”

“Is this the one about kitchen flowers?” her sister asked, and she nodded. “You got some great pictures from Madge’s shop.”

“I know but my writing inspiration is zilch,” Katniss explained. “I need to get this done if I want to post by Mother’s Day.”

“Speaking of Mother’s Day, mom is wondering if you’re bringing anyone to Sunday dinner,” Prim informed her.

“I love our mother but lately every conversation we’ve had is either about my lack of a dating life or my withering eggs,” Katniss said. “Right now, I need to focus on getting more attention on the blog. It’s just gaining momentum!” She rested back and turned to her sister. “This is important to me.”

“I know,” Prim replied. “And you are good at it. I mean, look at what you’ve done to our apartment! To this room!”

Her sister’s bright blue eyes looked around the buttercream room, beautifully decorated with white-washed furniture. The console that her television sat atop was bought at a nearby thrift shop and refurbished by her. Katniss had sanded it down before putting a whitewash over it and adding lacquer to give it a more modern look.

In fact, most of the furniture in her and Prim’s apartment was completely refurbished by her. She had always had an eye for decorating and instead of going to a four-year college, Katniss had opted to go to design school.

Creating something new from what people considered junk gave her a special kind of thrill—almost akin to being in love.

At least that’s what she thought it might feel like.

“Whoa!”

Katniss whipped over to her sister—who was holding an unfolded paper in her hands.

She stood from her seat and went to Prim. “What?”

Wordlessly, Prim handed the piece to her—it was a letter.

The letter was on marbled paper, an elegant insignia atop it, and she could see that the elegant calligraphy was done by hand:

Dear Miss Everdeen,

You are hereby summoned to the kingdom of Panem to present yourself to His Royal Highness, King Peeta.

Photo documentation has validified that you are the Queen Consort to His Royal Highness.

Attached is my business card, please contact me to arrange your travel to Panem.

Respectfully,

The Rt. Hon. Effie Trinket

Private Secretary to His Royal Highness

“This is a joke!” Katniss tossed the letter onto her desk and laughed. “Photo documentation? There is no such thing—”

The laugh fell from her lips as Prim turned the FedEx envelope upside down and a single photo fell onto her bedspread.

“There’s a business card in here, too,” Prim told her carefully.

Walking over, Katniss could see that the photo was facedown.

Trembling, she picked the print up and read the elegant cursive atop it:

‘Peeta and his new bride, Katniss Everdeen!’

Next to the caption was a happy face; it was obvious that this statement was made in jest.

Turning the photograph, a wave of nausea hit seeing the image of her seven-year-old self, a paper towel veil atop her head, joining hands with a blond boy—

Prince Peeta.

Or to be more precise, His Royal Highness King Peeta of Panem.

#Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark #Royal!Peeta #Commoner!Katniss

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mcheang · 4 years

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Exclusive

Edna Mode was a renowned designer, famed for her harsh but accurate critiques, her fierce and practical lines, and of course, being the designer of the majority of superheroes.

And now she was hosting a fashionista gala, inviting those worthy of a Mode gala. As for those asking for an invite, Edna just asks who they are and calls security.

Lila, as the self-proclaimed BFF of Ladybug, and Gabriel’s muse, had already boasted of receiving the glamorous invitation. It didn’t just come in an envelope, it came out of the sky in a rosewood chest, accompanied by a bottle of wine and canapés. (Or so she says. Adrien and Marinette rolled their eyes. Chloé wasn’t paying attention)

Alya: Girl, I’m so jealous. But hey, maybe this will be a good thing. After all, Adrien is going with Kagami. Chloe will just stick with her mom. That means it’s a chance for you and Marinette to know each other better.

Oh yeah, did I mention that everyone knows Marinette is MDC?

Lila forced a grin but didn’t want to make any promises.

Imagine Lila’s rage to know she wasn’t given an invite because she was just a model. Adrien was the heir to a fashion company. She was not.

With all the bragging Lila did, she can’t back out or Chloe and Marinette will call out her absence. (Chloé learned about Lila being a guest from Sabrina later from gossiping)

So, she stole Marinette’s invitation. She did some editing and made her own customised invite, brandishing it for her class to see.

Marinette saw her invitation missing, rolled her eyes and reported the theft to Edna. Plz, everyone knows Edna invited her. She didn’t really need a piece of expensive paper.

The day of the gala arrived, and Lila brought out her invite.

The guard looked at his clipboard. “You’re not on the list.”

Lila: No, but I do have an invite. Obviously someone must have made a mistake with your list.

The guard snorted. “If that’s the case, then your fingerprints and eye scans should have already been registered. That’s what opens the doors.“

Lila gulped and thought about sneaking in with the next guest. But no such luck. Security made sure one person entered at a time.

As the security guard moved to push Lila back into the crowd of fans, Lila cried out that she knows Ladybug and Gabriel.

Guard: what’s your point?

Lila: You’ll be fired for this!

Guard: Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this all before.

Another guard just scoffed. “You’re only a model. One of many in the industry. Miss Mode doesn’t care for models.”

Lila: what are models if not the face of fashion?

“Spoiled, stupid little stick figures with poofy lips who think only of themselves” Edna herself was at the entrance, wondering what was causing the disruption in her guest entrance flow.

Lila: How can you say that? Then why would Ladybug be my Best Friend?

Edna: the day Ladybug says she is your Best Friend is the day I wear crocs. And I don’t mean crocodile leather.

Edna points at a random guard. “You, get this so-called model out of the way. She is blocking the queue.

Oh by the way, Edna calling out Lila was caught on camera by the reporters.

One of them questioned why she was kicking out Gabriel’s muse when his son, a supermodel himself, was invited.

Edna: I did not invite the boy because of his face. I invited him because I saw potential (basically she realized he was Chat Noir. She would never invite Adrien otherwise. As seen from her quote, she doesn’t have a high opinion of models) That is, if he ever gets out of his father’s shadow. Because, let’s face it darling, what can Adrien do besides look pretty and play with swords and piano? You would think the boy would be in part of business meetings, but no. At this rate, Gabriel needs this gala to get out of that stuffy house. Realize that maybe his parenting methods are flawed compared to some other talented figures here. Look at Miss Kagami, focused on upholding her family legacy of fencing. MDC already knows how to run her own business after learning a bit from her parents. Even Audrey’s daughter has been joining in on becoming a fashion critic and throwing parties for political parties. But I must go, my guests await.

Back inside the party, guests were avoiding a seething Gabriel’s eyes. He had come to scout out the superhero guests, only to be called out by Edna on live tv.

Marinette went up to Edna and asked one of her fashion idols why she burned the Agrestes in public.

Edna: do you think Gabriel would change his parenting ways if we did not expose them to the influential figures of this industry, as well as the public eye? I guarantee you Adrien will be allowed more freedom of choice, lest Gabriel wants his son to be known as a coddled boy who can’t even make his own decisions.

Edna didn’t bother softening her sharp voice as she says these words.

Adrien flushed.

Quickly changing the subject, Marinette asked why Edna hated models.

Edna: it’s not that I hate them personally. I just hate their jobs and what they represent. Models nowadays are beautiful only according to the world standards. People who see them want to be like them, never mind that the models they see on the screen are airbrushed to unrealistic and impossible perfection. Now models focus only on their own appearance, trying to maintain their beauty as time ages them. They go on diets and become superficial. Whereas outside the modelling industry or such like, you don’t need to be stereotypically beautiful to be worthy. Where your worth is measured in kindness and bravery and talent and intelligence and anything beyond superficiality.

Adrien overheard and he frowned, not liking the idea where his appearance on ads is not exactly right. He only joined the company to make his father happy. But maybe it’s time he stepped into the business side of things and exit the modelling world. Bonus: no more Lila!

Edna snorted, “Though I must admit Gabriel surprised me with his newest model. Her attitude is lousy but she doesn’t strike me as a model. She just doesn’t have that model walk. But enough about the old man, my dear MDC, let’s talk about you. I love your gender-neutral line. And was wondering if you would like to join me in creating my next line of clothes for the Incredibles. A rare opportunity but I like style. Now take this offer before I change my mind.”

Marinette: wait, do I have to fly over or-

Edna: you are too excited, darling, but don’t worry, my assistants will send you the details.

Why are the Incredibles getting a new look? The kids are growing up and Edna wanted to move on to new styles.

As Marinette was flabbergasted, Audrey congratulated her for landing the job. Kagami and Adrien also beamed at her good fortune.

Even the Incredibles admitted they looked forward to working with her. Violet was a big fan.

Gabriel was seething and thought about akumatizing himself but come on, one villain against a room of superheroes? No thanks.

Drinking a glass of wine, he eventually admits that Edna had a point, however loudly and rudely it had been announced.

He would not be around forever and he wanted to leave the company in Adrien’s hands. In order for that to happen, his son needs to know business (if he can’t design, he can hire designers)

And yes, Lila was a lousy model. She survived by shooting with professional models who managed to overpower her mediocre work. But a deal was a deal. Besides, her contract was only for a year.

After the gala, Adrien happily quit modelling (aka Lila) to spend more time with his father, learning about how to run a company.

Marinette and Edna proudly claimed credit for the fashionable Incredibles.

Violet also became the talk of the school for her MDC exclusives.

Lila had been humiliated on air. Alya hesitated but finally did her research. At the end, she collapsed over the ruined credibility of her blog. But she can still get revenge by informing the principal, Ms Bustier and Mrs Rossi what Lila lied about. The perks of being a class vice president for a busy class president is that she also has the contacts list for emergencies.

Considering how Lila framed Marinette, there would be no suspension or detention. Only expulsion. Good luck finding a new school when Edna’s gala was a global topic.

When Lila returned to school for her last week (it takes time to gather evidence and get the attention of busy adults), nobody wanted to talk to her or even exchange glances. She quietly kept to herself, hoping for this to blow over soon. She was still a model working for Gabriel. She could befriend other supermodels (as if. Like they would want to befriend her after Edna called her out)

Hell, even her jobs were down. Gabriel just told her to take test shoots to fill up her portfolio until the hype died down (aka her contract expired)

When Lila was expelled, she was ready to be akumatized into Chameleon again. Except one problem. Everyone avoided her like hell so how could she kiss her target. Even Adrien was told to stay away lest his reputation be tarnished.

Ok, I admit it. I was hit by “I’m no Angel” quotes as I wrote this. But seriously, does anyone feel weird at the idea of trying to become thinner when your weight is just right, all the while you know there are people out there even thinner than you are and are starving, not because they want to be stereotypically thin, but because they cannot afford food?

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #Lila is exposed #Lila gets exposed #everyone knows Marinette is MDC #post ladybug episode #post episode ladybug #Gabriel salt #ml salt fic

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten

Summary: Whilst vacationing on a Colorado Ranch to try and overcome your writers block, you find yourself being drawn to the cowboys that staff the ranch rather than getting any actual work done. After a small accident in the truck you find yourself a lot closer to one cowboy in particular, who has a secret you are about to discover.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3204

Tags: Chris Evans (Actor) & Reader, Chris Evans (Actor)/You, AU Vampire Chris NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Spanking, neck biting, Vampires, Oral Sex, Cum Play

Notes: This is a rewrite of a old Hiddleston fic, but i felt it fit with Chris too. The original was written 5+ years ago so may not be my finest work.

I do not operate a tag list or masterlist. All my previous stories can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites, to get an alert whenever i post a new story, follow that blog and put it onto notifications. You can also find all my work on AO3.

You bounced in the seat of the truck as it made its way along the dirt track back to the lodge, a cloud of dust spewing from beneath the wheels. Clinging to the steering wheel, your knuckles white, you wished you’d taken the bigger, newer truck, the one with power steering. And a heater. And Seatbelts. But no, you had taken the smaller older one instead as it was easier to park.

Your cousin’s Colorado ranch had always been a refuge for you, so when you were suffering from writers block you’d asked if you could rent their lodge for a few weeks, hoping the quiet solitude of the Colorado landscape would inspire you. Little did you know that the only things around that would inspire, would be tumbleweeds and cowboys. And as a crime writer being inspired by watching lithe and toned men riding horses all day was not helping, in fact you were soon to end up in the romance isle of the bookstores, especially watching their taught and muscled thighs as they clung to the horses, sweat dripping down their bodies, hats tipped to the low autumn sunsets;

“HOLY CRAP!”

You were suddenly drawn out of your daydream as the one and only bend in the track had snuck up on you as you, slamming on the brakes but it was too late, the tyres skid on the loose earth, and you ploughed into the ditch, coming to an abrupt stop, albeit at a 45º angle.

Coughing as the cloud of dust settled, you groaned as a pain shot through your head, pulling yourself up to the driver’s seat you glanced into the rear-view mirror. A slight cut on your forehead, you touched it lightly and winced, there was going to be one hell of a lump there in the morning. Testing your limbs and you were relieved that they all worked fine.

“Darlin’, y’alright?”

The sudden voice at the side of the truck startled you, making you squeal and let go of the steering wheel, causing you slide over the bench seat to the far side of the truck. It was Chris; one of the ranch hands, in fact the one in particular you’d been trying to keep out of your mind.

“Miss?” He enquired

Snapping out of your trance you finally squeaked out an answer;

“Chris, thank you...yes I’m fine.”

“Here, lemme’ give ya’ hand.” he said, wrenching the door open and reaching into the truck as you extended your hand, and he was pulling you out of the truck and onto the side of the road. You swayed slightly, a sudden rush of blood to your head.

He steadied you, watching you sway slightly before you settled;

“You’re bleeding...” he said, his nostrils slightly flaring, those intense eyes staring at the wound on your head.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a plaid handkerchief, gently pressing it to your head wound. His tongue lightly reached out and touched his top lip with concentration as you felt his light touch, his fingers cold against your heated skin.

“Do you need a ride Miss?”

Hell yes you thought, but you realised the ride that you had in mind was probably not what he meant.

“That would be very kind of you, thank you” you replied as you managed to pull your mind from the gutter you said with a smile, hoping you weren’t stumbling on your words too much.

“Great!” He said with a smile that sent shivers down your spine; “I’ll just untie Vincent...”

“Vincent?”

“My horse.”

You paled a little. In the weeks you’d spent on the farm you’d so far managed to avoid actually riding a horse, they didn’t like you, you didn’t like them, even after a lot of trying on your part with you offering them carrots and sugar cubes over the fences, trying to stroke their noses and generally be nice to them, you’d been nibbled, snorted at, and most of the time they just ran off leaving you coughing and spluttering from the dust they stirred up.

You watched as Chris strode over to the fence where he’d tied Vincent and busied himself unhooking the reins, turning to you as if presenting his steed to you. Reluctantly you walked over, not entirely sure how to even get onto this damned beast.

“Just put your foot into the stirrup and pull yourself up.” He said as he held the animal still.

Right. Well. Ok. You might as well try, knowing you were more than likely going to make an utter fool of yourself. Foot into stirrup and gripping onto the saddle, you heaved yourself up. Imagine a toddler trying to climb over a beach ball but getting stuck halfway; butt in the air, you’d neglected to swing your free leg over the horses back and as you now tried to lift your knee the horse to start shifting. This wasn’t going well, and you were just thankful that Chris couldn’t see your face that had no doubt turned a rather comical look of indignant frustration on it right then.

“Here let me help.” As he rested his hand on your free leg “Lift your knee and part your legs, you need to swing it over to get into the riding position.”

Well duh, your mind was now not on the kind of riding you were currently attempting, but as you felt Chris’s strong hand lift your knee over the saddle you were suddenly upright and sat on the horse. You wobbled a little where your feet had fallen out of the stirrups, but your mind was soon elsewhere as Chris lifted himself skilfully onto the saddle behind you, settling in, his crotch pressing against your butt.

You chanted a little mantra in your mind to keep your thoughts of arousal at bay as he arranged the reins and you set off, the weight of his body pressing you forward in the saddle, pressing your crotch against the little uppy-holdy-thingy at the front of the saddle that you presumed was a form of a handle for when only one person was using the saddle.

Soon you were on your way, Chris clicking his tongue and the horse slowly turned towards the ranch. The gentle rock and sway of the horse as it plodded its way along the track soon had you a little worked up, not to mention the hardness you were starting to feel press into the back of your jeans. In an attempt to distract yourself you started chattering away, attempting to make small talk whilst trying to disguise the fact you were a little breathless from the gentle pressure that was tormenting you, turning you on. You were thankful for the darkness that was descending around you as you were sure when you did get off this damned animal the front of your jeans would be soaked through. Chris was more of a listener than a talker, very few words of his being part of your conversation, yet as you felt his breath on your neck, your voice faltered and you spent the rest of the journey in silence, until your cabin appeared over the hill, the last rays of the sunset making the windows seem ablaze.

As you rode past the windows, you saw your reflection in them, you riding the horse. You. On a horse. Just you. Wait, what? Before your mind could process the sight Chris pulled on the reins and Vincent came to a halt at the bottom of the porch steps, letting out a little snort as it did so;

“Let me get off first then I’ll give you a hand down.”

Chris skilfully hopped off the horse, making it seem so graceful. Now it was your turn; swinging your far leg over the saddle you got halfway there but your foot got caught in something. Giving it a little shake it caused your body to overbalance, and you watched almost in slow motion as you practically oozed off the horse into an upside down heap, your foot still caught, your shoulders on the ground and your foot suspended above you.

You heard Chris suppress a snigger; “Not a natural rider are ya’?” as he reached over and unhooked whatever had caught your foot, causing you to fall to the ground with a grunt. He quickly hooked the reins over the porch and extended a hand to you, pulling you to your feet. You swayed a little, falling against his chest. Oh the scent – spice and musk – you could have buried your face into that plaid shirt and just inhaled, but perhaps not, perhaps that’d be just slightly inappropriate, you reasoned with yourself.

Pulling yourself right again you were still slightly unsteady on your feet, you felt Chris’s arm around your hip as he helped you up the porch steps and reached for the door, pushing the pair of you inside. You turned to thank him but he was suddenly upon you, his long arms around yours, pinning them to your sides, there was a sharpness to his movements as he spun you around so your back was against his chest. He tilted your head to one side and you realised it was not passion that was driving him. You felt his lips on your neck then the sharpness of teeth. Very sharp teeth. You screamed as you felt them pierce your skin, struggling in his arms as you felt a burning on your neck, the teeth sinking deeper. You could hear the suckling noises as he drank from you, his lips firmly against your neck, his tongue massaging the spot below where his teeth had breached your skin. You started to slump in his arms, realisation that you’d fallen into the arms of a monster. But as your body relaxed, you started to feel the desire within you build again. The feel of his lips and tongue on your neck was now dulling the pain his teeth had caused. You relaxed in his arms and found your feet, pressing back against his chest, not realising your desire until you groaned as his lips moved against your neck.

You reached back, your arms grasping onto the sides of his jeans, pulling him against you. You could feel that he was hard, and very big from the feel of it. His grip around your torso loosened, and one hand moved up to where your shirt was buttoned, ripping down in one swift motion, buttons springing apart as they flew off. His hand splayed over the soft flesh of your stomach, running up to your bra, and slipping inside to grasp on your breasts. Never releasing his lips hold on your neck, but you could no longer feel his teeth within you, only the soft suckling of his tongue.

He released his grip on you but rather than running you simply span around in his arms and pulled him down so his lips met yours. You could taste a metallic tang on his lips and tongue and realised it was your blood. Rather than disgusting you it turned you on even more.

You ran your hands to his chest, fumbling with the buttons as you rid him of his shirt, running your hands over the soft jersey of his tee before pulling that up so you could touch his toned chest, down his stomach to where a small trail of hair led to further delights below.

Never breaking contact with his lips you blindly worked on his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and working your hand inside, feeling his hard dick loose within the denim. Not releasing him your other hand lowered his fly, allowing you further access and his firm hardness heavy in your hand.

Breaking away from the kiss you grinned up at him, his gaze boring deep into you, a slight look of shock on his face.

“You’re not running. Ya’ not scared?”

You didn’t answer, instead you started to drop to your knees, keeping hold of his dick as you ran your other hand down his thigh, your fingers softly running over the firm muscles, gently tickling the hairs that covered his skin. On your knees you looked up at him, licking your lips before pressing them forwards and placing a gentle kiss on the tip. Running your tongue over the slit, tasting the salty liquid that had pooled there.

Never breaking eye contact you opened your mouth and took his hard shaft between your lips. You slid your tongue along the seam underneath, bobbing your head slowly up and down. As you watched Chris’s face you could see his fangs descending again, his eyes becoming hooded until his head tipped back. Taking him deeper you felt his tip against the back of your throat, inciting a groan from above you.

Pulling back off you lightly grazed your teeth against his dick, catching around the head and gently over the crown. Well, if he was going to violate you with his teeth it’s the least you could do as payback. However he seemed to enjoy it, as his hands flew to your head and you heard him mutter;

“Oh god Darlin’, do that again.”

Happy to oblige you repeated your actions, running your teeth over him, lightly all the time and then down his length, taking him deep again. On the third pass you heard a hiss escape from his lips; “Enough”, before he roughly pulled you to your feet, and crushing you against his chest for a rough kiss.

He toed off his boots and stepped out of his fallen jeans, walking you backwards over to the couch, spinning you around so the front of your thighs were against the upholstery. Bringing his hands up to your breasts, he grasped the front of your bra, tearing it in two, before roughly pawing at them, your nipples rubbing against his calloused palms.

You felt his lips against your ear; “You’re hot for me... so desperate and eager. I like it.”

His hands lowered to your jeans, releasing your fly and pushing the material away, before rubbing his hand between your thighs, feeling how wet your panties were, pushing at your folds through the cotton, as he rutted into the crease of your butt; “So wet for me... does fear turn you on?”

“I’m not afraid.”

He chuckled into your ear; “You should be...”

He ripped the material in two, letting the remains of your panties fall to the floor before pushing you over the arm of the couch, leaving you prone and your thighs wide.

Steadying yourself on the cushions you glanced over your shoulder, admiring Chris’s near naked body, his dick in his hand as he came up behind you. He paused for a moment as he pulled his crumpled tee over his head before steadying himself with a hand on your rump and you felt his tip against your swollen pussy. As he slowly ran the tip up and down your folds, soaking it with your juices, you moaned, wriggling your hips, needing to be filled.

“Getting desperate for me?” Chris said with a heavy voice

“Just fuck me, now!” you practically screamed at him.

“Your wish is my command.” and before you could brace yourself he’d pressed into you, sinking deep on the first thrust. He seemed to go on forever, inch after inch slid into you, only for it all to be suddenly withdrawn and thrust back in one making you squeal;

“Yes! Oh God!”

“You couldn’t get farther from God if you tried.” and with that he set off at a punishing pace, fucking you hard, bent over and prone to him, his big hands gripping tightly – painfully – onto your hips as he used your body.

You’d never been fucked so hard or so well, you were writhing on the sofa in ecstasy, the man, no; the monster behind you never relenting on his actions on your body, making your juices flow down your thighs, his large hands spreading your legs wider so that his thick girth could gain further entry. You felt one of his hands flutter over your rump.

The suddenness of his palm making contact with your behind made you squeal, your breath catching in your throat as you anticipated another, not to be disappointed when his palm made contact with your other buttock moments later.

Something you hadn’t liked to admit to any of your ex’s is that done right you were quite happy with a bit of spanking, but those that had attempted it had always done it half-heartedly.

“Oh fuck, Chris... please... don’t stop.”

Never letting up on his pace of fucking your pussy he started to spank you in time to his thrusts, and as you felt your orgasm building, you gripped tightly onto the cushions of the couch;

“Yes yes yes yes yes, more, harder!” All spluttering from your mouth, begging and pleading, getting closer and closer, until your body succumbed to the pleasure, gripping onto him as you rode out your orgasm, writhing beneath his touch, rocking your body, the waves of ecstasy flowing over you as it overwhelmed your mind.

Chris smoothed his palms over your reddened cheeks before going back to gripping your thighs, his thrusts getting harder and faster as he now drove into your pleasure soaked body.

Suddenly he pulled out and grasped your shoulder, pulling you round and down to your knees. As he towered over you, his voice low and deep;

“Open your mouth” you did as he asked, on your knees in front of him, he furiously stroked his dick, you reached for your tits and played with them;

“Such a good girl” he praised as his body went rigid and he started to cum, watching as ropes of it sprayed over your face and chest, dripping down between your tits. One last spurt, and he brought his dick up to your lips where you gently took him in, tasting your combined pleasure on it, gently giving it a single suck before releasing him.

He staggered back and found the breakfast bar, resting against a barstool. Both of you out of breath, a hungry silence hung in the air, only broken by the sounds of your breathing as you still gasped for air.

You were the first to break the silence; “How come I didn’t need to invite you in?”

“It’s not your home. I can come and go as a please as long as it’s not the persons main residence.” Chris replied.

“You’re really a vampire?”

“Do you need more proof?”

“Are you going to turn into a bat or something?”

He sighed; “Why would I want to turn myself into a bat?” a small smirk appeared on his lips;

“Anyway I suggest you get up off your knees Darlin’, I’m not done with you for the night yet”. He said with a very dirty grin now spreading over his face.

No longer afraid you got to your feet;

“I’ll be ready for you in the shower”

You made your way to the bathroom, looking over your shoulder as you swayed your hips;

“You coming?”

“Yup, and so will you be Darlin’”

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #vampire!Chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader

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miraculousluvbug · 3 years

Text

WINGLESS | Ch. 2

***WARNING: Season 4 Spoilers Ahead

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Of all the people Rena could let slip that she knows Ladybug's identity in front of . . . it had to be Chat Noir.

< < < THREE MONTHS AGO < < <

Ladybug swung from building to building, the exhilaration of a job well done fueling the fire in her veins. Traffic it would seem had resumed immediately, the sounds of wheels on pavement and cars obnoxiously honking ricocheting throughout the city’s architecture. This didn’t surprise Ladybug, seeing as the city had grown quite accustomed to akumas blocking the roads. Once the tips of her toes touched a rooftop, it wasn’t long before she was joined by another pair of boots.

“That went well,” commented Ladybug as she swiveled to face her teammate.

Rena Rouge folded her arms across her chest and popped a hip, lips puckered in a frown. “Are you kidding, girl?”

Ladybug’s face fell. No, she wasn’t kidding. She honestly had felt it went well. Was she missing something? Did a disaster strike while she was focused on her lucky charm? Had her Miraculous ladybugs not corrected all of the damage? Were there civilians hurt somewhere--

Abruptly, Rena clapped her hands on Ladybug’s shoulders and squealed, putting a halt to Ladybug’s internal meltdown. “That went amazing! We’re like a well-oiled machine, you and me. I still can’t believe I get to do superhero stuff!” At the sound of Alya’s impromptu shrieking, some pigeons nearby took flight, cooing what Ladybug imagined was a bird version of crotchety old people grumbling. Not even the least bit deterred, Rena leaned forward into Ladybug’s personal bubble, eyes wide with excitement. “But what I really can’t believe is that I’m doing it all with my best friend!”

Ladybug relaxed her posture and let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. But she quickly regretted it when she got a nice, big whiff of crepes, urine, and cigarette smoke. Ah, Paris. Home, sweet home. However, noticing her thoughts were veering dangerously offtrack, Ladybug shook herself mentally.

So nothing had gone wrong. Rena was just being Rena and drawing out the suspense. Ladybug patted her friend’s right hand--which was still firmly squeezing her shoulder--and smiled sweetly.

“It sure is convenient that I don’t have to hide from you anymore,” the spotted-heroine remarked. “I think half the time I took so long to get to a battle because I always had to come up with excuses.”

Rena grinned with a knowing glint in her eye. “I might be impressed if your excuses were actually good.”

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug turned away from Rena, causing Rena’s hands to fall to her sides. “Hey, you try having to come up with five hundred different reasons you have to flake on your friends and see if you fare any better.”

Rena was about to sass her best friend some more, but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Ladybug hugging herself. She recognized this stance. Ladybug’s head was in what Rena deemed the “Guilt Grotto.”

Rena stepped forward to wrap Ladybug in a warm, girl-you-better-get-your-head-out-of-the-guilt-grotto-or-I’ll-tickle-you embrace when there was movement across the rooftops in her periphery. She craned her head to the right to find the familiar silhouette of Chat Noir vaulting his way over, a goofy grin clearly plastered across his face the closer he got.

In a matter of seconds, he landed squarely beside Ladybug, startling her. Ladybug, the epitome of grace that she was, did a series of awkward hand gestures before falling back on her bum, shrieking.

Chat Noir didn’t even look a teeny bit remorseful.

“Looks like I got here just in time!” he quipped, bowing and sliding his baton back into place on his suit.

Rena held out a hand for her friend as Ladybug voiced her question: “In time for what?”

Chat bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, for the akuma, of course! You guys were having a quick team meeting, right?”

Rena and Ladybug shared a look. So that’s what he was so happy about. Ladybug opened her mouth to reply, but Rena beat her to it.

“Actually, we already took care of the akuma.”

Chat Noir visibly deflated. His ears drooped and his belt tail started to swish back and forth. “Oh.” He turned to the edge of the rooftop and hunkered down, letting his legs kick to and fro in an attempt to get rid of some of the adrenaline.

Ladybug winced. Chat did not sound happy. Hesitantly, she sat next to him. Rena then took a seat beside her, making her the middle. “Sorry, Chat. I know you like battling akumas more than I do.”

Chat nodded before murmuring, “Thirteen.”

“Hm?” Ladybug scooted closer to him to hear him better, their legs nearly touching. She leaned to her right to get a better look at his face and tilted her head innocently. If she were Marinette then, she might have fallen off the rooftop altogether, but she was Ladybug, and Ladybug had way more poise.

Chat didn’t answer immediately. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Ladybug knew it must be something important if he, the guy who was always upfront about his feelings, found it difficult to say. The guy who told her . . .

It’s precisely when something is important that it’s important to say it.

No matter what.

Ladybug gingerly rested a hand on his arm, hoping he understood what the gesture meant. It’s okay. Take your time. I’m ready to listen.

After a few more moments of staring at his feet, Chat Noir lifted his head so his eyes bore into Ladybug’s. They creased with . . . Was that worry? Sadness? Fear?

“Thirteen,” he repeated, a bit louder. “That makes it thirteen times you and Rena have battled an akuma without me. Since Montparnasse Tower.”

Ladybug was speechless. As she stared ahead, eyes unfocused, she tried her hardest to recall all the akuma battles. It was challenging as her memory loved to fail her when she needed it most. Had he really not been in any of those battles? Had it really been thirteen times?

Had he . . . had he really been keeping count?

Ladybug didn’t know what to say, but she knew she had to say something, anything. But what could she say? Was she sorry?

No, she couldn’t be sorry that the akumas had been defeated, that the victims had been rescued, that she had been able to do so quickly because Alya had been spending a record amount of hours by her side.

She couldn’t be sorry about any of that. She was only sad that he felt sidelined.

That was not her intention.

But she knew what the solution to that was.

And she would rather die before she let Chat Blanc see the light of day.

Somehow, knowing her identity had led to him being akumatized. Somehow, whether it was in an alternate timeline or when their memories had been wiped by Oblivio, she knew that what he said at Montparnasse Tower--that to know him was to love him--was truth. And Chat Blanc had told her what their love did.

Their love destroyed the world.

Their love had killed her.

Their love broke the moon, for crying out loud.

But, most importantly, their love hurt him.

Chat Noir had told her he loved her, many times, and she had even been considering giving his pun-spurting, jokes-at-the-worst-times self a chance. But being forced into combat with her akumatized partner had violently squashed any hope she had for them, for LadyNoir as Alya coined it on her blog. Ladybug would be damned if she allowed that to happen again. And if that meant encouraging him to move on even though it broke her heart . . .

Well, it wasn’t supposed to be easy being a hero.

Ladybug had this entire conversation with herself in a matter of seconds. She was careful not to let her face expose any of her innermost feelings, instead sporting an expression of neutrality. What she ultimately decided to do was tell him the only truth she had to offer. He hated secrets and she hated lying. What a pair they made.

“I wish it could be different,” she whispered.

And oh, how she did. She desperately yearned to tell him who she was, to know who he was, to tell him about Alya and Nino and all the other people she had entrusted with a Miraculous.

She wanted him to know how she grew up, what kinds of things she did at school, how she was utterly ridiculous when it came to her rotten luck (and she tried very hard to push a certain blue-eyed blonde out of her head the moment that phrase came to mind). She was sure he would snicker at all the times she made a fool of herself in front of Adrien, of all the ways she made her own life a living hell with her clumsiness.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t laugh. Perhaps he would pat her shoulder and uplift her with words of encouragement. She didn’t know. After the stunt he pulled with the balcony of candle-lit roses, the boy was a wild card, an enigma. He was complex.

And it thrilled her.

But no matter how she felt about him, they couldn’t know each other that way.

Sighing quietly, Ladybug brought her knees up to her chest and turned away from Chat Noir. If she had been watching him when she responded, she might have seen him look longingly at her, but she didn’t.

Rena Rouge did, though.

Wanting to make her friends feel better, Rena added, “Don’t you worry your pretty kitty head about it. I’m sure all those battles would have taken way longer if we weren’t already together.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both stiffened. Chat’s gaze flicked from Rena to his partner over and over before they finally rested on Ladybug. “Uh, what does she mean by that?”

Ladybug shot a glare in Rena’s direction, but her eyes softened when she saw that Rena genuinely appeared surprised.

He didn’t know? Rena’s eyes asked Ladybug.

He didn’t know, Ladybug’s affirmed.

One would think Rena was Lady Luck because her pendant had decided that that moment was the best time to beep, and she couldn’t agree more. Now she had an escape route from this conversation. “Welp,” she clapped her hands together, “I’m gonna go chill in that fine-lookin’ alley over there.”

Before Ladybug could agree, Rena sprang from her spot and promptly disappeared. She was a regular magician, and her latest trick was leaving Ladybug with a rabbit to put back in the hat.

Or, er--a cat back in the bag. Whatever.

“What she meant by that . . . ” Ladybug began slowly, like she was addressing a wounded animal. Which, maybe she was but just, you know, emotionally wounded.

“Yeah . . . ” prompted Chat, signalling that he was not going to drop this.

Ladybug quickly jumped to her feet and began her ritual of frantic pacing. “Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I didn’t know how to because I knew it would raise questions that I couldn’t answer--”

A blonde boy in white leather with somber blue eyes appeared in front of her and she dug her heels into the cement, skidding to a stop.

Chat Noir was behind Ladybug now, his voice soft and curious. “Bug?”

Ladybug was frozen in place for a few more seconds before she shook her head hard enough to give herself shaken-baby syndrome and nodded, satisfied that the aggressive head-shaking had rid her of he who shall not be named. She whipped around and started.

Chat Noir was incredibly close.

She didn’t know he had gotten this close.

Geez, his eyes were really cat-like.

He also had a really cute nose--

Ladybug, FOCUS!

Ladybug took a step back. She made it her mission to ogle his bell instead of looking into his dumb kitten eyes. “You--” she began, but Ladybug’s throat was suddenly dry. She gulped. “You know how much I hate secrets and lying. And I know how much you hate secrets and lying. So I’m not going to lie to you. But I may not be able to answer the questions I’m sure you’ll have, so please . . . ”

Ladybug grabbed one of his hands then and held it firmly between her own, pleading with every fiber of her being that this would communicate how much he meant to her even though she knew what she was about to tell him would make it seem like he didn’t mean anything.

Please forgive me, Ladybug’s heart supplied.

When he didn’t immediately take his hand back, she looked up at him. She looked into those dumb kitten eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt--

She was a masochist.

This was going to hurt. He didn’t like when she was the only one to know Rena’s identity. He definitely wasn’t going to like that Rena knew hers. This would be so much easier if she wasn’t ogling those big, emerald green, beautiful, brazenly dumb kitten eyes.

But she was a masochist. And she needed to see them while they still held love for her.

“I told Rena Rouge who I am.”

There. She ripped off the band-aid. Straight to the point. Zero room for interpretation. After all, her worst arguments started because of her clumsy miscommunication.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion. She had played this moment in her head a couple hundred times since exposing herself to Alya.

Yelling. There was always yelling.

Sometimes, he stomped away while doing that weird T pose where his fists didn’t connect to his hips . . . a pose she herself was guilty of, too.

Others, he chastised her about her thoughtlessness--to which she responded that she definitely thought about it long and hard that day.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion because she was sure there was going to be one, especially after seeing him upset about her always running off to Master Fu. He hadn’t even known there was a Guardian for a while.

What she hadn’t braced herself for was the expression on his face.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

His head was bowed.

His eyes were closed.

A lone tear slid down his cheek.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, screaming at her to run because he wanted her Miracul--!

No! She refused to finish that thought.

Her head yelled back that he wasn’t akumatized right now, that she wasn’t back there, that she wasn’t with him. She desperately tried to shove the image from her mind. This was more than she could bear. She just--she couldn’t take it! She couldn’t take it because . . .

Because . . .

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Because he looked just like him.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He looked like Chat Blanc.

-----

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years

Text

Speak Up

A commission for @mintocchi ! Thank you so very much for your patience while I moved everything around :D

Summary: You and Crypto have been in a relationship for awhile now, and he's still got issues when trying to speak up for things that he wants. You always try to get him to voice his opinions and concerns, and somehow this leads to training him how via the bedroom. Or! In which Crypto needs to learn to stop being an actions over words guy or else you'll make him beg over and over again for what he wants.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Crypto/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and written with a vulva, they were originally supposed to be a cis gal but there’s no real language depicting them as strictly a gal!, Denial and forcing Crypto to beg and use his big boy words, P tame kink wise!

Words: 5k

___________________

Starstruck.

That’s how you had first felt when you had met Crypto.

You were a new camera operator on the set of the Apex games, someone who got all the good angles and made sure the drone cameras could really catch all the action. You’d met him the same season he’d been introduced, noting how he’d been cold and disregarding, yet appeared confident in himself. But his eyes, they’d been so...paranoid. Especially when you approached to introduce yourself as one of the camera operators.

He’d regarded you with a short, quick nod. Odd, you’d thought. But that had quickly vanished when Elliott had taken you aside and chatted you up, an arm slung around your shoulder and a grin on his face. “Hey, don’t mind the kid, probably still jet lagged, dropships, bein’ legends and all- anyway sooooo I hear you operate those cameras now, huh? Make sure you get all my good angles- not that any of them are bad, just, you know, keep that attention on the money maker you feel me? The money maker being me, of course-”

~Rest under the cut~

“Mirage.” Crypto’s voice had cut in between you two, watching as you both had turned and you could note his irritated look at Elliott before a much more apologetic one was glanced your way. “Apologies. He does not understand personal boundaries-”

Elliott feigns a dramatic gasp, cutting Crypto off with his free hand against his own chest as if wounded.

You stifle your laugh when Elliott keeps up the act, sputtering before pointing at Crypto accusingly. “Woah, woah, woah, I’ll have you know that I know this lovely thing. Used to be the tech head up iiiiiiin- audio, right?” He turns towards you after that, squeezing his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way as you beam at being remembered.

“That’s right! I was actually hoping to speak to you, Crypto,” You gesture at him, noting Crypto’s light surprise of raised eyebrows before confusion and worry passes his features. Quick to overthink, huh?

You’re quick to follow up to ease his possible fears. “N-not! Not as an employee, I mean, I just- your, uh, your drone. They kinda remind me of an old camera used back in the day and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks I might be able to pick up on?”

That’s what started the relationship in the first place. Crypto, that day, had offered merely a one shouldered shrug, but after Mirage giving him a look and whining to him like a puppy, he’d agreed. Resulting in you having your own private session with him as he helped you learn a few tips. You were already trained in operating the newer models, but having a few pointers never hurt.

The entire time he’d asked questions about you, it almost felt like he was interrogating you rather than trying to start up curious small talk. But, to ease any fears he might have had about you having ulterior motives, you answered as honestly as possible to each one. Judging by his more paranoid nature, you didn’t ask any in turn for fear of him shying away.

The least you wanted to do was make Crypto feel as though you were untrustworthy.

As you two grew closer, the more relaxed he became around you. No more tips were to be given, so that excuse flew out the window, so you’d offered hang outs. It took a few tries until he finally mumbled he’d feel more comfortable in his room, which is where you two ended up being and you learned he had a sweet little cat named Isabella-Marie.

You had smiled at her name, asking where he got the idea from, and he’d smiled softly- almost sadly when he’d said she was his sister’s cat he took in, but no more information. Said cat took to you nicely, and just as she had, Crypto started warming up to you as well.

It was a slow, slow process. You took your time with him and learned that the personality he put on was nothing but a front. Something to keep more hidden. In private, he’s so soft, almost shy in his approach to you. He’s still got his sarcastic tongue, but he’s more playful when in private with you. Much like a cat. You see him opening up the slightest bit to people he’s starting to enjoy too- Elliott and Natalie both seem to have won some sort of favor with him.

That friendship slowly worked its way into romantic.

The first time you kissed him is with your hand cupping his cheek and his cheeks flushed red as his dark eyes flickered to your lips multiple times until you took initiative. It took a bit of coaxing to even get him to rest his hands on your waist, but once that had happened, it’s like he’d been so touch starved all his life. Clinging to you and sighing into your mouth as if he’d just sunken into bed after a long day.

His need for touch didn’t surprise you considering when you offered hugs and snuggles that he’d melt into you and cling to you so tightly. Your height difference, with you being much shorter, made that kind of funny when he’d lean down to bury his face in your neck and you’d stand on your tiptoes to make it easier. All within a private setting- outside of these rooms, you were both strictly professional.

Crypto’s name had been revealed to you not long after. Tae Joon Park. You both agreed that if you used it frequently that you might yell it in public, so it was reserved for more intimate moments or serious when you two were alone. You were mindful about switching his name, so you kept to using ‘Crypto’ in your head to ensure you wouldn’t fuck it up.

Though, it never failed to delight you in hearing him sigh fondly when you’d mumble his name by his ear after a sweet kiss.

Dates were more reserved for the bedrooms as well. You never minded that either, but sometimes on rare occasions, he’d don a mask and a hood so you two could go out. You could only imagine the type of anxiety those outings brought, but it always warmed your heart that he was willing to take a breath and push himself out to do these things for you. In turn, you would spend the nights with him, with his head on your chest and his arms squeezing around your middle.

Crypto, you quickly find however, is really bad at vocalizing his desires.

He’s a man of action, hardly using his words and if he did it was one worded or quick. You’ve been trying to help him on communication skills for both your sakes, but it’s more difficult on him. It doesn’t help that he’s quiet either, so sneaking up behind you to snake his arms around you normally results in you jumping and making a squeak sound.

But it also meant that for more...bedroom activities, that he would use actions. You always knew when he wanted something, you weren’t blind to it, you just wanted to make 100% sure of what he wanted. Normally resulting in you straddling his lap, a hand around his neck and speaking low for him to tell you what he wanted.

Crypto always got the cutest face anytime you took the reins and control. A healthy flush over his cheeks, his breathing heavier and his eyes pleading, but his mouth refusing.

Stubborn was a good way to put it. How his eyebrows would furrow and he’d whimper and buck his hips up, but not tell you what he wanted. It took a lot of trial and error to even get him to utter ‘please’ at times. Your poor baby.

You especially found you liked teasing him. Learning quick that he liked nicknames like ‘Good boy’ and ‘Baby boy’. You enjoyed edging him, tying him up or even just making him cling to the sheets or his own hair as his hips humped the air and he sobbed without begging for you. Always trying so hard to convey in his body language what he wanted you to do.

You found yourself mesmerized by his desperation at a lot of times. Where Crypto’s kiss flushed lips would part, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes frantic on you. His own hands gripping his hair to follow instructions on not to touch you as his hips thrust into the air and made his thick cock bob.

Sometimes you wondered if he could cum just by humping the air alone.

Another time, you’d always tell yourself, always so eager to hear that final sobbed out word of ‘Please’ before you would swing your legs over him and ride him hard and fast. Normally fit with cruel croons about what a sweet, pathetic little thing he looked like. Your very good boy.

That’s what you were thinking of now as you sat on the couch in his quarters, waiting for him to return from his match in the arena.

Isabella-Marie is happily purring in your lap as your hand strokes through her soft, strawberry blonde fur. You’ve set up there with a blanket over your lap that she’s kneading happily, the match Crypto had been in having ended about an hour ago. You could tell he was struggling, too much talking around him that was reflecting in his steps.

He’d been in a team with Mirage and Wattson, both people you knew he liked being around, but unfortunately, they kept striking up conversation. Leading to Crypto being off his rhythm. But it was nice to hear him breathe out in amusement at their antics sometimes, caught on the audio feed with the announcers crooning about how it looked like he made some friends finally.

They at least made it to the top three. Fighting valiantly to maintain their location on World’s Edge in the city. Mirage had gotten cocky when they’d knocked two of the opposite team, going up to finish them off and ending up with a shotgun in the back and a cracking snarl in the sky of Bloodhound.

The rest is history. But, at least you knew Bloodhound wouldn’t be the type to gloat and act cocky if they caught Crypto- at least out loud. You’re glad it was them rather than Caustic. Bad blood ran deep between them, not to mention Natalie struggling herself with it all. You were glad her and Crypto could solve whatever issue it was that ran between them- one that not even you were aware of.

Security and secrecy, Crypto had told you with apology in his eyes. You understood, some things were best kept secret. Especially in case you accidentally got caught up in a mess, you could genuinely say you had no idea what was happening in all the legends’ lives.

The beep of the door being unlocked makes Isabella-Marie awaken, doing a stretch across your lap before she chirps and hurries to the door to greet Crypto. She curls around his feet as he removes his shoes at the door before entering any further into the room in the rest of his gear.

“Hello, sweetheart,” You hear him tiredly coo downwards, hearing Isabella-Marie's delighted chirp as she’s scooped up, quickly followed by her loud motor engine of a purr.

You slide off the couch, dressed in your lounging outfit of soft black sweatpants covered with cliché little green alien heads and a loose gray sweater with a green Apex symbol over the right breast, the collar falling off your shoulders. Crypto looks worse for wear, his eyes are tired and he’s got dirt smudged on his cheek and smells heavy of sweat. Not that Isabella-Marie minds. Nor you.

“Hey,” You greet him, a smile on your face as his eyes rest on you whilst his cat presses her cheek in insistent strokes against his chin, cradled in his arms.

“Hey,” He murmurs back to you, adjusting Isabella-Marie in his arms when you reach for him. Despite his tired expression, his cheeks flush when he leans down and to the side for you to cup his cheeks and peck a kiss on his lips in greeting.

“You need a shower. You go wash up and I’ll order dinner.” You tell him, offering your arms out for Isabella-Marie to be transferred to your arms in all her purring glory. “What were you thinking tonight?”

“Mmh.” Is his only reply, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of your head in a small nuzzle. Affectionate boy. You laugh a bit, gently nudging him with your hip as Isabella-Marie jumps out of your arms. Giving you time to hook your arms around his waist and shove your hands into his back pockets under his jacket to draw him close and make him blush.

“Tae Jooooon,” You tease his name, enjoying how he hums low in his throat in response and turning his head to press his lips against the top of your head in a kiss. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t go your whole life being a one worded man.”

“Mmh.” He responds again, this time with a smile that you feel.

You shove at him playfully to shoo him off for the shower, calling out after his back when he goes dutifully towards the bathroom. “Fine! But if you don’t like what I picked because you didn’t give any options, I don’t wanna hear you complain!”

Not that he ever did complain. If he was picky this would be a bigger concern. But thankfully you two seemed to be on the same page a lot of times, especially when it came to food.

The food you order is Chinese takeout, getting here just in time for when Crypto emerges from his long shower looking a lot more awake and less grouchy. He’s dressed in his thick framed glasses, his normally slicked back hair nice and slick, some black sweatpants and a loose white crop-top, something you appreciate very greatly to be able to see his fit frame.

Like a nerdy jock.

You show your enjoyment when you wrap your arms around him from behind when he goes to look at what you got for dinner. Running your nails up his exposed beauty-marked, warm skin on his abdomen to feel him squirm and lean back against you with this flustered huff falling from his lips.

Eventually you two make it to the couch where you have dinner and watch one of the K-dramas he liked to indulge in. Sometimes Crypto will pause it to explain a verbal pun that wasn’t caught via the subtitles for you, something that always makes you smile and appreciate when he takes the time to pause and explain for you.

Though you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate when you wait for his most distracted point in time to steal a piece of his food and shove it in your mouth too quickly for him to stop you. Resulting in him poking at you until you squeal from being tickled and he can take a piece off your food in retaliation as you whine at him after.

Domestic. That’s the best way you could describe yours and Crypto’s relationship.

Home.

After dinner is put away and teeth are brushed, you two settle back onto the couch. You curl up on the corner, Crypto following you to cuddle up to your side. His cheek rests against your shoulder, kind of tilting his body into you as you rest your arm behind him, your hand resting on his nape to slide up to pet at the shaved portion of his head. Another hum from him of appreciation, but not verbalizing his like of it.

Crypto softly adjusts, but you take it as nothing more than him getting closer to you with the soft sound of the TV in front of you. You’ve got your phone in your lap to play a puzzle game while he watches his show, very much like a cat as he rubs his cheek against your shoulder affectionately.

Another squirm, another adjustment is felt after a moment of him pressing his thigh to yours. You take it as him wanting to be closer, only sliding your fingers higher along his scalp to the coarse hair atop his head to lightly scratch at the root like he likes.

You don’t notice his mouth starting to part, quickly cut off with the ringing of your phone and you groaning aloud. “Really? Right now?” Before you’re answering it with a polite ‘Hello?’ that makes Crypto snort at your tone change.

He watches as you chat, watching your lips move and hearing you discuss footage and what your boss must have wanted you to edit or someone else. He’s not really paying attention when you’re still petting his hair. He tries to nudge closer to you, near flush with your side as his hand now rests on your thigh, hoping to catch your attention. You only offer him a quick smile before returning back to your conversation.

After five minutes, it’s clear this isn’t going to be a short call either.

A sigh is heard from Crypto before he’s leaning up to start pecking soft, brushing kisses on your neck. Your head tilts for him, only a light flutter of your lashes as you go ‘Mmhm yeah’ to whoever you are on the phone with. Your nails press lightly at his scalp, letting him know you feel him as his teeth lightly nip at your neck like you like.

You’re damned good at keeping your composure verbally, and now Crypto’s beginning to wonder if you’ve ever done anything on the phone with him without his knowledge. Even the mental image of you spread out and touching yourself while on the phone near making him whine, something he swallows down.

You clearly can feel him and see him. You offer a little smile when he peeks up at you, catching your gaze. Emboldened by you sparing even a little attention to him, his hand slides down to your wrist in hopes you’ll catch up to what he’s saying. Gently drawing it to his thigh and towards his inner thigh. And yet, you still chat on the phone, but now you’re squeezing and massaging his thigh, your pinkie lightly skimming over his crotch and making Crypto’s breath hitch against your shoulder.

His brows are furrowed, looking ever so frustrated as you now purposefully lengthen the conversation out by bringing back a point from the last game played. Crypto’s head tips lightly up to you, his eyes pleading with you when your knuckles brush over the bulge in his sweatpants.

Your eyes meet his and you quirk a brow with a light smirk on your face. Your eyes say enough for him, you’re sure, judging by how his face flushes and his brows furrow once again. You can see and feel how he squirms, realizing he’s not going to get anything until he uses his words.

He’s stubborn. He’s always so stubborn. Squirming in his place and getting more frustrated as you keep chatting. Only after three minutes does he finally give in when he realizes this isn’t going to work and you’re only going to keep teasing him through his pants.

“Please?” He all but whispers, his mouth felt quivering on your bare shoulder and his hot breath felt in a shaky exhale. “Please touch me, please?”

You smirk.

“Oh! Hey, boss, looks like I’ll have to chat with you tomorrow morning about that- uhuh, yeah, yeah, getting,” -You pause there to let out a feigned yawn- “Oof, yeah, getting real tired....uhuh, yeah, sounds good! Buh-bye.” Before you’re ending the call and practically pouncing on him.

You end up in his lap, straddling him and cupping his cheeks, brushing some of his hair from his face before you lean in to kiss him. Crypto’s hands find your waist, hovering at first before gripping you when you lick into his mouth after biting his lip to make him gasp.

You sit up higher to press him back into the couch, letting your hands slide into his hair for him to tip his head back when you pull at it. His moan is low and vibrates his chest when your tongue licks over his own, feeling his hips jerk lightly up and against your ass needily.

“I like when you beg,” You breathe as you part from the kiss, moving the kisses down his jawline and towards his ear where you lightly nip. “Do it again for me?”

“Nnh-” Is the only response he manages at first, his fingers shaking as they slide down to grip your hips when you start grinding across his lap. Back and forth to your own rhythm and feeling just how hard he is. Bless whoever made sweatpants.

Crypto’s so cute when you pull back to look at him. Where his head is tipped back and to the side, his lips parted and letting out ragged breaths with each drag of your hips across his lap. How his brows knit together when you grind low and slow downwards to catch his attention and his mouth falls closed to hiss.

But. He still wasn’t speaking.

“Be a good boy and tell me what you want, hm?” You try to encourage him, letting your hands fall down to his exposed abdomen to slide your hands up and under his crop top. Slipping your hands over his chest to thumb at his sensitive nipples, gently pinching and rolling them. Crypto whimpers sharply, his head rolling to the opposite side and looking more stubborn by the second as he strains to come up with words.

“I-I-” His voice comes out in a whine, framed by how his lips quiver and his blunt nails cling to your hips when you stop grinding to encourage him further. “I...I want your mouth. On- o-on my cock. Please?”

“Awww, baby, when you look that cute? I’d do just about anything for you.”

You move down his body, kissing your way down until you can slink in between his knees onto the floor. You waste no time in hooking your fingers under his sweatpants, your mouth watering as you follow his happy trail downwards as it gets more exposed. You tug them completely off with his underwear, watching his thick cock bounce with a satisfying bob and a drool of pre-cum from the flushed head peaking from foreskin.

Crypto covers his face with his hands to hide his burning red flush that edges down to his chest when you hum at him approvingly. But, judging by how his cock throbs, you already know that as he likes being watched and praised without words.

You take your sweet time kissing up his length and down his balls, letting your tongue run over the sensitive skin. Your hand holds the base, stroking downwards to pull back his foreskin, mouthing at the flushed head and letting your tongue slide against the slit in teasing dips until a whimper falls from his lips.

You tease him like this for a good enough amount of time before you even take him into your mouth fully. Suckling and bobbing your head, your free hand holding his hip to squeeze to remind him to keep his hips down when he starts trying to hump upwards into your mouth.

Anytime you feel how his cock jerks and you hear his breathing quicken; You stop. Pulling your mouth off to kiss at his hips and thighs instead. Squeezing on his legs soothingly and rubbing at his skin when Crypto whines and rolls his hips up with not a single word peeping from his lips. Even if now his arm is thrown over his forehead, able to see how he peeks open one eye to look down at you pleadingly.

You smile up at him each time before you take him in again. Suckling, licking, your nails sliding down his thigh until your hand can cup his balls and lightly squeeze. And each time you feel him get close, you pull back. The same bite of pain of your nails on his skin, same edging, the same denial even as pre-cum spills from his cock and it mixes with your drool to connect you with a sliver that makes him near sob when he sees you.

You know he liked it messy. Liked seeing the mess you could make.

The mess you could make of him.

You’re about to remind him that he needs to use his big boy words if he wants to get anywhere tonight. But, seems Crypto gets the memo when he starts pleading.

“Let me cum inside you, please, please, please- please let me cum i-inside you, please, I’ll be good-” His voice is breathy, a high whimper as his hips try to fuck up into the loose grip you have on his shaft. He just looks so pathetic for you right now. Just a teary, drooly, humpy mess.

You like how desperate looks on him.

“Mmmhhh, I dunno, baby,” You let your voice elongate your words, your breath fanning across his sensitive skin and causing his dick to jerk, lightly tapping your lower lip and making you smile. “You look awfully cute. Can’t you hold it a bit longer? C’mon, you can be my good boy and hold it, can’t you?”

Each end of your questions is punctuated with a drag of your lips across his cock, letting him feel how you murmur across his reddened skin.

Crypto sobs out again, his body jerking in sensitivity as both his hands come back up to hide his red face and teary eyes. His nod allows you to continue, continuing your teasing kisses and licks. Making sure to bite pain into his thighs to cause his mind to either associate the pain with pleasure or to back off his pleasure. Judging by the way he sobs out and twitches each time you scratch or bite him, you’re guessing it’s your prior guess.

“Please, please, please-” Crypto starts to sob when you deny him again, his cock jerking heavily and spilling pre-cum on his lower abdomen. His hands have fallen to grip the couch as best as he can, his teary gaze looking down at you and his lips quivering with his shaky breaths. So cute. “Please, I-I cannot take it anymore, please, please let me cum in you, I want to cum in you-”

You’ll give him credit. This is the most he’s ever spoken during sex, let alone been so clear in his needs and desires. Something you’ll praise him for later. For now, you smile up at him, wiping your mouth off on the back of your hand before standing to wriggle out of your lounge clothing.

Crypto’s quick to help you, hooking fingers in your sweater to help you out of it. It’s fit with your laughter as you nearly fall on him, lots of giggling when his mouth presses a kiss to your abdomen when you get halfway stuck through your sweater and pants. “Tae Joon-” You laugh out his name when you feel him smile against your abdomen, “C’mon, lil help here?”

Eventually you escape your clothing prison, able to set the mood again when your straddle his lap. You’re plenty wet enough, but you still take the time to tease him a bit more by reaching down to stretch yourself while hovering over his cock. You feel flustered as he watches you, sitting under you and looking up at you with such love in his eyes while you make soft sounds yourself.

It takes a few tries to line up correctly, but soon you’re bouncing your hips on him with your fingers in his hair and your mouth on his neck. He always sounds so pretty the way he cries out, clinging to your hips at first before his arms wind around you to hug you to his trembling frame. You pepper kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks adoringly as you rest your foreheads together.

He cums rather quickly, clinging so hard to you as his hips frantically hump up against you. He ends up accidentally holding you still so he can thrust up into you, resulting in you clinging to him in turn with your lips parted and murmuring praise as he fucks you through his orgasm. He’s swearing in his mother tongue, something you can only catch bits and pieces of.

When Crypto’s done cumming, one of his hands quickly goes down to between both your bodies to rub at your clit as you hump against his cock still lodged inside you. He finds your lips to capture when you whimper out his name when you begin to cum, your nails biting into his shoulders as he rubs you through it.

By the time you’re both satisfied, you slump against his frame, burying your face into his neck as your sweaty bodies press together on the couch, still connected.

When both of your breathing settles, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling himself there as his hands slide up and down your sides. You smile softly, adjusting your hips a bit and laughing a bit when he grunts in this little oversensitive way.

When you lift your head to meet his gaze, you smile a bit brighter, gently bumping your noses together. “Hey,”

“Hey,” He murmurs back just as fondly.

“You need a shower.”

He smiles when he realizes you’re replaying your interaction from earlier that day, reaching up to brush your frazzled hair from your face. “Mmh.”

“You need a shower with me?”

“Mmh.” He repeats, moving to rest his cheek atop your head as you laugh at him when you feel his chest shake with a quiet laugh in turn.

“Alright fine. Guess I’ll be getting a shower first and you’ll be left out here with your dick out and cold-”

That gets him. Pushing you off him and to the couch with a yelp from you as you fall gracelessly on your side and gasp as he takes off towards the shower and you quickly following after him with a playful swat to his ass when you catch up.

Yeah. You would say your guys’ relationship was domestic.

#Crypto #Crypto x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

159 notes · View notes

sapphirelycoris · 3 years

Text

𝑨 𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 & 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕: 𝑰

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Suggestive lines, pining (like a lot because Enji's a simp), enemies to lovers style writing, weird 19th century type dialogue but I think it's still readable. Please tell me if I missed any.

Ship: Enji Todoroki x female reader (she/her)

Word count: 2,707

Music: Pride & Prejudice Music & Ambiance

Author's note: I know some of the character's relationships with others are kind of weird but I casted them according to personality. For example, Ryuko reminds me of Charlotte Lucas and Nejire reminds me of her little sister, Maria. I just kind of threw names around haha... A NSFW and continuation soon to come. God, it's been a while since I posted anything on this blog.

Written/created for: @pleasantanathema's Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab

Summary: A Pride and Prejudice inspired piece, featuring Enji Todoroki as the male love interest. Loosely following the plot of the actual novel with a few twists on the actual story's dialogue, characters, & events. When you meet Mr. Enji Todoroki, he was the last man in the world you'd ever want to be around. However, as your paths cross more and more, you see that your first impression of him was inaccurate.

"The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride."

𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑦. 𝐴 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠; 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠. -𝐽𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝐴𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛

The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. He dreamed about the sight of your eyes, glancing at him with mild contempt. You occupied his thoughts, both innocent and indecent… He was going to go mad if you didn’t share the same affections that he did. He didn’t want you. Not at all. He needed you by his side. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride.

When he blatantly insulted you at the first gathering he attended and saw you laugh about it with Ryuko, for once, he felt uneasy. The same woman he had slighted was now the one who controlled him. He noticed the way you looked embarrassed at your family’s antics. It disgusted him that he was obsessing over someone with that kind of background.

It certainly shocked Enji when you stood him up at Sir Yorio’s gathering. How dare you! For him to stoop down and offer to dance with you, only for you to reject him, was truly offensive. A woman far below his social status, refusing to stand up with him. The nerve.

Every single snarky quip that left your lips swam around in his mind. Your sharp tongue was attractive. The moment he saw you with mud on your dress, walking from your home to Toshinori’s country estate, he was taken aback. For some reason, he couldn’t get rid of that image. The sun hit your face perfectly, creating an enchanting glow that accompanied your delightful countenance.

“Ms. (L/N).” Your name rolled off his lips so naturally.

The regrettable moment you had to leave Toshinori’s estate, he helped you into the carriage which would take you home. Something transpired, far beyond his comprehension. Your hand fit so perfectly in his, he couldn’t help but want it to stay there forever. The missing piece to a puzzling man such as himself finally found its way to its rightful spot. It seemed you wished for the same thing. His grip was secure, he felt safe, and you were trapped, staring into the most beautiful cerulean eyes. At the same time, Enji could drown in your eyes forever. The confused look you gave him was endearing when he refused to let go.

His actions also startled him. Why was he so stuck on you? He flexed his hand, imagining that yours never left as he watched the carriage shrink, moving further from the manor and into the distance. When was the next time he would be allowed to see you? What was it going to take to cure this infatuation?

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The next time he saw you, was under more unfortunate circumstances. He was riding downtown with Toshinori when he spotted your little party. Unlike his friend, Enji looked unhappy when he saw who you were talking with. You briefly exchanged eye contact with him before he had a clear look of disdain displayed on his face.

Keigo’s eyes followed yours. He tipped his hat, but Enji made no attempt to return the friendly gesture. He hurried away on his horse without saying a word. The encounter was certainly unusual. Keigo looked discomforted by the interaction. You wondered what could have transpired between the two men that caused such tension.

That night, at your aunt’s home, you sat down and heard what Keigo had to say about his reunion with Enji. He told his side of the story. He painted Enji as the villain in his narrative. Seeing as how you already found the man so disagreeable, you couldn’t help but believe Keigo’s words. He was much more forthcoming than his old friend; he didn’t seem capable of telling a lie. This new story caused you to see Enji in a new light, only deepening your dislike for the man.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Toshinori was a man of his word and held the ball that he promised your sisters. Enji was less unenthusiastic than he usually was. Knowing that he’d get to see you there was the night’s one redeeming feature. He was excited at the thought of getting to lay his eyes on you once more, and it sickened him.

Many of the officers were attending the ball. While linking arms with Toshinori and walking around the ballroom, you searched for Keigo among the redcoats the officers wore. Instead of finding him, you found a pair of familiar blue eyes that looked at you with well-hidden passion and yearning. Enji wanted to tear you away from Toshinori’s arms and have you all to himself. He had many selfish desires, and he usually got what he wanted, but you were the exception.

Women fawned over him, trying to get a taste of his money. Even Rei tried being overly friendly with him. He cared little for them; he wasn’t looking to fall in love. He was not in search of a wife. Enji was quite content with the life he had. Everything he wanted was in his grasp. But you? You were so close yet so far. There was an uncomfortable amount of emotional space between you and he wanted to close it. Being in the same room wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin, claim those alluring lips for himself. He wanted to see your whole being without any pesky fabric in the way. If only he could rip that dress off of your body after forcefully pulling you into a vacant bedroom.

He made his way over to you, but an officer blocked his view. He informed you that Keigo would not be in attendance. Part of it was because of an assignment he had to do, but he also wanted to avoid a certain man… Your younger sisters drug the officer away, leaving you alone in the middle of a crowded room.

Fortunately, you spotted Ryuko, who was standing alone in the corner. You went to inform her of everything that had happened lately. An unwelcome guest interrupted you.

“Ryuko, may I introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Tobita?” While remaining civil, you introduced them to each other. He took your hand and led you to dance. As it turns out, the man can’t dance. He went the wrong way, bumping into another lady. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Enji watched in amusement as he saw you struggle to keep a smile. You made eye contact with him again, almost sending him a look of desperation. Dancing with him would be better than your current situation. He simply smirked and waltzed around the room, observing everyone.

While you were busy venting to Ryuko, the very man you were talking about came up to you. The two of you exchanged glances and bowed. “If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?” Enji’s odd invitation made your eyes widen slightly.

There was no way out of it. You tried coming up with an excuse, but nothing came to mind. He smiled slyly as you fumbled over your words. “I- well I hadn’t... yes. Thank you…” With no escape, you were trapped. He walked off, and you lingered behind for a minute.

“You’d be a fool if you didn’t take him up on his offer. It’s a great compliment that he singled you out.” Ryuko commented.

“The last time he singled me out was to slander me. Hateful man…” you hissed before going to follow him.

As the music started to play, you studied Enji’s face. It was the first time you’d ever really taken the time to analyze all of his features. You hated to admit it, but he was handsome. Unusually handsome.

Finally, your hand had made its way back into his. Even if it was only for a brief moment, that feeling would stick with him until the end of the night. The two of you danced around with your words, conversing back and forth when the time was appropriate. You simply couldn’t bear the silence.

Couples pranced around the dance floor elegantly, stepping where they needed to. You two moved in sync, never letting your eyes wander. There was a burning passion for the man that you couldn’t get rid of. Whether it was burning hatred, lust, or love, you couldn’t tell. Hostility and tension seemed to be all that came out of your encounters with him. The sexual tension was the one thing that kept you from completely despising Enji and you hated it.

In an attempt to rile him up, you remarked on Keigo and the last time Enji saw you. “The last time I was in town, I was forming a new acquaintance.” A sly grin spread across your face as the words came out.

“Mr. Takami’s friendly personality is what allows him to make friends so easily. Though his ability to keep them is debatable.”

“How unfortunate he must be, to lose your friendship, a loss I am sure he will regret for the rest of his life.” You mocked in an airy and hushed tone. Before Enji could snap back, Mr. Toyomitsu came over to hint at a marriage between your sister and Toshinori. The two of you glanced at the smiling pair before dancing again. “Didn’t you say that you rarely ever forgave? That your hatred, once set in stone, was set indefinitely? Surely a man such as yourself is careful when breeding such hatred.”

“Of course I am.” Enji scoffed.

“And I presume you do not let prejudice blind you?”

“No. What is the purpose of these questions, if I may ask?” He grumbled, disliking your inquiries.

“Simply a means to figure out your constitution.” You laughed, “Trying to get a good idea of your character.”

“And your findings?”

“None. I have heard of you on different accounts by different people with different views of you. You shall remain a mystery until I comprehend you.”

With the dance ending, Enji remained silent. Once the music faded, he supported your hand as you lightly held it over his. “I request that you do not attempt to perceive my character right now. It would do us no favors if you judged wrong.” He claimed as you left the dance floor.

“I may not get another opportunity, so I might as well try while I have the chance.”

Enji placed himself right next to you and leaned to whisper in your ear. He lowered his voice, making sure only you could hear. “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.” His finger brushed against your arm as he walked away. All the heat in your body rushed to that spot. You wanted his warmth against your skin, you didn’t want him to go.

And yet, you were standing alone in the corner of a crowded room, fixated on the man who you swore to never like.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Much had happened over a short amount of time. You had rejected Mr. Tobita’s marriage proposal and got an earful from your mother. Keigo got engaged to a rich young lady, and Ryuko had gotten engaged to Mr. Tobita. Enji and Toshinori’s party had left his estate, and your sister was disheartened. Everyone had such high expectations for her and Toshinori, only for him to up and leave.

Now, you were on your own adventure. You, Sir Yorio, and Nejire were going to visit her and Mr. Tobita. They lived in a small house on Lady Chiyo’s property. Greenery grew on the stone, adding to the natural feel of the house. It was a quaint little grey structure with a clear blue sky in the background.

As soon as the carriage stopped, Ryuko and her husband rushed out the door to greet you. They showed you to your rooms while Mr. Tobita kept on about Lady Chiyo’s house and how grand it was. It seemed he was more in love with Chiyo than his own wife.

“Are you happy here?” You asked Ryuko as you watched the other three walk around the garden.

“I am quite content with my situation. I barely see him during the day. He sits in his book room, walks to Lady Chiyo’s every day, and-”

“And you prefer to sit in your own wing of the house.” You finished. Whether it was what she was going to say or not, you stated your mind. Ryuko smiled wistfully, “Yes.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

While you and Ryuko were walking through the woods, along with Nejire, Mr. Tobita came running after you. He was clearly out of breath but told you his news, anyway. Enji and his cousin, Kugo, had arrived. He urged you to make your way back to the house, since they wanted to visit with them.

“Pleasure to finally meet you Ms. (L/N).” Kugo smiled.

“Oh? ‘Finally’, sir?”

“My cousin speaks of you often.” He informed.

“Ah…” You sighed, looking over at Enji who met your gaze, only hungrier.

Enji’s eyes never left you, though. There was a protective aura emitting from him. Just in case Kugo spoke or acted out of line, he was ready to come to your aid at any moment. He rested his knuckles against his mouth. Instead of addressing anyone else in the room, he was intently watching and listening to your conversation.

“Pray tell, why is Mr. Todoroki staring at me?” You asked Kugo, having enough of being watched over like you were some kind of prey, “Have I done or said something he finds offensive?”

The man stood up from the sofa and meandered over to the table you were seated at. He had no control of his own actions. It was quite an impulsive move, and now he didn’t know what to say. “How is your family?” He choked out.

“Well.” You replied, “My sister has been in town for quite some time. Have you happened to see her?”

“No.” Enji lied, “Unfortunately not.”

“As you can tell, Mr. Todoroki and I are not very close.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.” Kugo exclaimed.

“Truly? I believe in first impressions, however, Mr. Todoroki’s good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Your words caused him to turn around, and he saw your smiling face, making a joke of him.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The grounds of Lady Chiyo’s property were breathtaking. When the weather allowed, you took advantage of the sprawling greenery and went out for as many walks as you could. Without a cloud in the sky, an endless sea of blue, and shining sun, you wasted no time in getting outside. It was much more productive and enjoyable than sitting in the house.

A beautiful little trail, hidden by the estate’s magnificent trees, was the path you found yourself walking along. You looked up to admire how tall the trees had grown. They stood proud and provided you with shade. The birds sang a lovely little tune, supplying you with a unique sound that rivaled that of the best musicians.

Enji came trotting through the path from the side. He halted his horse once he saw you. No painting could do you justice, even one made by the best painter in the world could compare to your beauty in person. The sight of you admiring the picture in front of you made his heart pound. Though you said nothing, he believed that you, taking the time to simply look at him, was the greatest compliment he would ever receive.

And for those few precious minutes, he drank in your appearance. He was hopelessly in love with you. Being in your presence was the best part of his day. He found himself looking forward to seeing you. He always prayed for you to cross paths with him. Even if he simply caught a glimpse of you, suddenly it brightened his entire day.

Unfortunately, he had other things to do. Enji spurred his horse forward and trotted away. Your presence in his life was much bigger than he expected when he first met you. And somehow… he didn’t mind it. He hated yet loved the feeling of being in love.

#endeavor x reader #bnha endeavour #endeavor #todoroki enji #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki endeavor #enji x reader #enji x you #19th century #shitty writing but it's something #I kind of hate this but I hate everything I write #my hero academia enji #endeavor x y/n #I am disgusted at myself for being so late to submit this for the collab #Pleasantanathema forgive me.#What's up with the shitty title #not proof read forgive the shitty grammar and punctuation

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honeygingergemini · 4 years

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Now I'm thirsty for your writing! Can you write one where reader or steve wants to make a sex tape? Thank you😘😘

Hello my dear :) Thank you for being patient with me. I had writers block and just thought everything I was writing sucked so I kept deleting it and starting over. I hope you like it @donutloverxo

p.s. I was today years old when I found out tumblr doesn’t send you a notification when someone answers your ask (I’ve only ever asked on anon bc my main blog is something different so let me know if I am wrong lol) I tagged you just incase <3 IGNORE TYPOS :)

pairing: Steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: camera sex, dirty talk, oral male receiving mentions of face fucking (light), unprotected sex, cream pies and descriptions of it, light spanking, and praise kink for stevie :)

On Camera

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My heart is racing and we haven’t even done anything but set up the camera. We’ve only been dating for five months and four days, so imagine the graveling I had to do to get America’s golden boy to agree to fuck me on camera. I begged Steve for so long and now I'm the shy one. We’re supposed to be making a sex tape yet we are on opposite ends of the bed.

Steve’s bare back is against the headboard while his long legs are spread out before him. He keeps looking everywhere but the camera. His eyes bounce from the walls to the sofa in the corner of the room but once he looks at me, he looks at the camera and he retreats further into his shell. His hand keeps running over his shorts and now I'm starting to feel bad.

He agreed to this for me but I know he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t want to actually do this? Maybe I don’t want to do this?

Nothing will happen if I get up and turn the camera off now, nothing will happen except me being deathly embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know I want this, I thought about it for a long time before and after bringing it up to Steve. It was my bright idea and now I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs like a dummy.

You’ve had sex with Steve countless times, this is no different don’t let the camera scare you. Just relax, he’s your boyfriend, the one you’ve slept with numerous times. Just kiss him.

I take a deep breath looking at Steve whose skin is slightly flushed. I lean over to his side of the bed and reach for him taking in his warmth. His skin is damp with a light coating of sweat. Steve’s eyes shoot over to mine with the unexpected contact.

“Hi.” I smile at Steve hoping to relax him. As well as myself.

“Hi.” He looks at me but then quickly looks at the camera. I follow suit doing the same.

We need a distraction from the boxed recording device. I lean over more to capture Steve’s lips in a demure kiss. I kiss him slowly trying to memorize every detail of his mouth. My tongue rolls over his teeth before dipping further into his mouth pulling a deep groan from him, but after his groan he tense and pulls away.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah... i’m still not...” comfortable. he didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant. I lift my body over his straddling him as I trace my fingers over his body knowing the simple act calms him. It works because this time Steve initiates the kiss. It’s more firm than the last but pleasing just the same. Our tongues waltz in a sinful manner pulling soft calls from me. Forced breaths exit my nostrils as I grind my hips slowly into his. His large hands grip my hips and he pulls me down harder.

“Uh Steve.” I moan out. “More please.” He’s now attacking my neck leaving open mouth kisses across my jugular. His hips push up to meet mine once then twice then it’s a repeated action that leaves me breathless.

His eyes snap open to meet mine but instead they meet the camera and his arms drop to his side. Deep sighs are released from the both of us

“I’m sorry princess... I'm just trying to get used to this.” I know he’s turned on right now. I can feel how turned on he is.

“Do you want to stop?” He looks at me but doesn’t answer. I peck his lips quickly before removing myself from his thighs. My fingers are at the rim of his shorts very close to pulling them down before Steve sits up to stop me.

“What are you doing?” it comes out mumbled together almost as one complete word.

“Let me help you relax.'' I push his chest back down softly and continue my plan. I pull his shorts down just enough to free his erection. It bounces back and hits Steve's stomach. I take him into my hands and slowly stroke him. I bend over Steve's thigh arching my back while bringing my spit slick lips to his tip and leave a wet kiss. Steve shudders whispering profanity under his breath. My tongue joins the fun, slipping out to run around the tip in slow semi circles. I continue my teasing until Steve's hips jut forward and his hand is on the base of my neck.

“Suck it right.” He grunts voice hoarse “Stop playing with me.”

“Yes sir.” The last words I say before I take him fully into my mouth. I push down until my nose is met by the coarse curls of his base. One of my hands grip Steve’s thigh while the other is holding on to the side of his abdomen subconsciously giving the camera a perfect view. Steve's grip on my neck is unwavering; he's holding my head down.

“Fuck... breathe through your nose doll.” He grunts with a rasp I’ve never heard from him before. I take in sloppy breaths trying to calm down. “You gonna let me fuck your face? hmm princess?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he begins pushing his hips up into me slowly speeding up with each thrust until he’s assaulting the back of my throat. The action pulls strangled noises from me. My sounds only serve as encouragement for Steve. I think he’s completely forgotten about the camera.

Steve juts his hips in a way that knocks the wind out of me. I gag around him getting a deep groan in return.

“F-fuck princess.” His hand finds your ass with conviction. Steve suddenly becomes fixated on your bottom. His burly hands run from your ass and down your thighs repeatedly. I wiggle my lower half as a silent plea for him to spank you again and he complies.

“You like it when Captain spanks you?” Slap. “You like the pain?” Slap. “I asked you something, doll.” you were presented with two slaps this time. I nod ferociously around Steve’s cock. The super soldier rubs the area he’s abused before dipping his fingers into your core.

“Shit princess.” he continues toying around with your pussy. He pulls your head from his dick not wanting to end his fun prematurely. His tongue meets yours in a grimy kiss. “I can’t wait to watch that back.” Steve mumbles around your lips as you simultaneously squeeze the finger within you.

“Oh? You like that?” Steve adds his middle finger to his index and presses into your warm sex deeply. I cry out enjoying the sweet burn of Steve’s fingers. “You like the thought of me watching this while i’m away?”

You absolutely loved the thought of Steve watching you pleasure him when he’s away. An image of Steve hunched over dick in hand pumping himself into oblivion leaves you dripping.

“Take your dress off.” Steve demands his voice carrying power. I begin stripping myself for him when he quickly stops me. “Nuh uh, not for me, for the camera.”

I turn to the camera as a shiver runs down my spine. My slip dress easily falls off my body leaving me with only black lace panties as covering. Not that I want to be covered in this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve’s thickset hands wrap around me from behind covering my breast giving them a pleasure filled squeeze. “Such a pretty sight.” Steve brings his body to mold into mine from behind. His left hand trails it’s way down back to my clothed opening.

“Can i touch you?” I nod yes at Steve's ridiculous question. Why would you ever deny him? Your response must be good enough because he’s pressing down over the fabric just the way you like. It doesn’t take long for his self restraint to be overcome and he’s dipping his fingers under your panties. He dips into your liquid arousal and coats your sex with it.

“You’re dripping princess.” He shudders to himself. He says it every time you two are intimate but you never get tired of hearing it. “So wet.”

“Always for you.” My words flow out breathlessly “Only for you.” You’re unsure of when steve removed his shorts but he’s aligning himself with your entrance. He’s bare. There’s no protective barrier between the two of you. He’s never done this before. You’ve never done this before. His tip is barely grazing your lips, Steve surprises you.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks for your permission and of course you accept. How could you turn down your favorite super soldier? So now you’re face down into the mattress dripping at the idea of getting to feel your Steve in a new way. A more personal way. Steve pushes into you slowly, only his tip. An exasperated moan leaves you as your suspicion is confirmed. You feel every detail of Steve's mushroom tip. Your vice like grip cups him into your squelching center holding him there. You absentmindedly hear Steve express his approval of the pleasure your body is providing him. Steve pulls out his tip just as slow as he entered. A suctioning click echos in the room showing just how wet you are.

“Fuck.” Steve whispers “You feel like a dream doll.”

He hasn’t fully delved into your sweetness and he’s on cloud nine. Not wanting to waste anymore time Steve dips into your bottoming out quickly and stays there. Labored breaths from both of you fill the room. It feels like Steve sits there forever unwavering. He takes in every detail of your squishy walls as you commit every vein, dip, and curve of Steve’s dick to memory.

“Stevie baby,” You can barely breathe but you need him to move. “Move… please… for me.”

Steve takes in one deep breath before he’s pounding into with great intensity. He doesn’t work your way up to his speed. He just slams into you, repeatedly. Hips clashing into your ass causing a jiggle that Steve adores. His hands strike your bottom giving added stimulation you didn’t know you needed. Steve pulls your head off of the bed bringing your body to lay flush against his. He dips his hips just a little bit lower and his tip sweeps the sweet spot located deep in your center only he can reach. You choke out a cry, his name being the only thing on your mind. Your cries encourage him to duplicate the action.

“It feel good, doll?” You nod so fast you feel the contents of your mind scramble.

“Say it, tell the camera how much you like it.” Steve turns your head to the recording device in front of you. Something you forgot was even present in the room with you. “Tell the camera” With each word his body collides with yours making sure you feel him as well as his words deep. “ Tell ‘em how much you like Captain stretching this pussy out.”

“Tell them.” Steve’s stern grunts are accompanied by passionate strikes to your outer thigh.

“Captain…” You whine, The pleasure is starting to feel overwhelming. “You feel so good, so different.” You want to catch your breath but you always want to please Steve. Captain has a praise kink.

“I can feel all of you.” You reach behind yourself to cup Steve's head. “It’s so deep.” You sigh when his fingers find your clit. The tingle of your orgasm begins at your toes and travels up your body. You’re so close.

“You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.” Steve grunts in approval of your expression pressing harder into your clit. He likes control but only because you give it to him so when you praise him, he feels like he’s on fire.

“I love when you touch me like that.” Another grunt from Steve. I teeter close to saying something important, something so permanent that once I say it, it can't be taken back. Steve’s chest puffs with need. A need for you to express the feeling you both have swirling within your chest growing with each passing day. A small smack is applied to your clit before Steve flips you over so you’re on your back.

“Tell me what I want to hear.” His voice is as rough as his pace. You don’t respond. It’s only been a couple months. Way Too soon to say it.

“Don’t wanna say it?” Steve is plowing into making sure no air is left in your lungs. “But I thought I was doing so good?” His thrusts are unabated.

“Thought I was the only one that could make you feel this way? hmm? Thought only I could make you feel good?” Long drawn out moans escape you. One right after the other each one more melodic than the last.

“Be my good little baby and say it.” His thumb flicks around your bundle of nerves with sharp short strokes. “Say it princess.”

“I love you.” You think you say it. You hope you say it. You’re unsure, your words are completely slurred and your mind is only filled with white noise. Your body is levitating as your orgasm washes over you. You’re feeling everything all at once. Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath.

“I know you do baby,” Steve chuckles, pleased with his work. “I love you so much more.” Each word is followed by a sweet kiss. Too sweet for what’s taking place. Your understanding of time becomes weary but soon enough Steve meets you at the peak.

“F-Fuucck doll.” His body tenses as he releases deep inside you. “Fuck.” Once he collects himself he’s off of you. You whine at the loss of heat from the super soldier. You didn’t realize it but Steve has grabbed the camera bringing its focus to your filled cunt.

“You look so pretty like this doll.” His finger dip into your overstimulated sex. He pushes the proof of his orgasm around before pulling some of it out to spread it across your lower lips.

You lay still trying, trying to breathe, trying to not pass out, trying to not look as fucked out as you feel. You hear steve mention how this was fun in the background but you don’t have the strength to respond. Soft kisses to your inner thighs, stomach, then lips lull you further into your euphoric state.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm i’m perfect.” You sling a leg over the super soldier. “So you love me?” Steve’s soft chuckle is the last thing you grasp before falling into much needed slumber.

#smut writing #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #smut #steve rogers x you #nomad steve rogers fic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x black!reader #chris evans black!reader #chris evans x black reader #honeygingergemini #ask ginger

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Note

Please tell us about the cinema, I beg you

Oh boy...that accursed night. If you think fanfic plots are chaotic, just wait for this story.

Story under the cut:

So, I just got this job at my small town’s local theatre. I genuinely enjoyed it, and was quite content with the way things were going—fun shifts, cool coworkers, and a nice boss. So I thought.

I was only two weeks in when the “incident” occurred.

At the theatre, we had to collect a walkie talkie radio at the start of every shift, and sign it in and out with a piece of paper in the office.

It was a little clunky and annoying when cleaning cinemas with vacuums, but nothing to cry over.

One night, I’m put to work with a new supervisor I hadn’t met before and some new coworkers (they’d all been there a while, but this was my first shift with them).

For a little context, I’m 19, and most of the other employees were like 15-17. So, I was basically being bossed around by pretentious, power-tripping kids. Fun.

King Kong vs Godzilla had just been released, so of course, the theatre was packed that night — 130 people per room.

Now, we usually have 20-30 minute intervals between sessions to clean the cinemas, but with the release of a new movie, it was cut down in half, sometimes less.

I was cleaning the most popular cinema that night, and was first told to take my time, as it needed to be spotless. Also, side note, can people please not throw popcorn everywhere? It’s a pain to clean. Then again, I don’t work there anymore nor ever will, so do what you want, I suppose.

My little coworker told me to take my radio off my belt and put it aside to get a good vacuum going through each aisle, as it apparently made it easier, as the cord would sometimes get wrapped around the radio stem.

Fair enough.

I did so, and left it on the wooden platform of the rows to begin vacuuming. He leaves and I get to work.

However, he comes rushing back a few minutes later and says, “what the hell are you still cleaning for?? We’ve got a hundred people waiting outside???”

I’m over it™️ at this point because I only took this job to see the behind the scenes of how a cinema works. I shrug and go, “okay”

I pack the vacuum up and try to leave hastily, as he’s being very antsy and pushy.

He gets frustrated and grabs the rest of my cleaning crap to leave, and tells me to hurry up behind him.

My hands are full and I can’t grab the radio, so I say, “what about the walkie talkie?”

I swear I hear him say, “leave it, there’s no time!”

I shrug and think it’s weird, but trust him to know better.

However, once I dump my crap and prepare to leave, as a hundred people are pushing in behind me, my intuition tells me to grab the walkie talkie.

I rush back in to where I left it, and find it missing

I have a brief moment of “oh shit”

However, I think to myself, “it’s okay, you only took this job for shits and giggles. If they fire you, you have your other job anyways. What’s the worst that can happen?”

If only I knew.

An hour goes by into my shift, and I’m cleaning another cinema with the same coworker. I’ve kind of shoved the walkie talkie thing to the back of my mind, because I was doing a closing shift that night and could probably get away with not facing my manager about the sign out sheet.

However, at one point the boy goes, “where’s your radio??”

Sheepishly, I say, “uh...I left it in cinema 3, like you told me to?”

He sort of pales and I think this little skinny high schooler is about to pass out.

He starts yelling at me and tells me that I need to get my flashlight and start checking every single row in there.

I go, “fuck no, the movie is still going? You want me to flash a torch in the peoples’ faces during King Kong?? The one cinema hosting the entirety of the sweaty balls side of reddit right now???”

He gets very shitty and says, “I’ll do it myself, wait here.”

By now I know I’m in the shit, but shrug and remember I can always escape through the vents if need be.

Now, there was this really fucking annoying 15 year old boy I was working with that night, who’s the definition of the “well aCtUaLlY” guy irl

He comes sprinting into the theatre I was cleaning, and starts literally interrogating me over this walkie talkie. Like, he thinks he’s the “bad cop” or some shit. Other coworkers closer to my age had already warned me about him before I even met him.

The other boy I was working with apparently couldn’t find it, and just didn’t want to deal with the consequences that night so much, that he called his mum to come pick him up early.

Weakling child.

It was at this point that I quietly arrived at the conclusion of “they think I stole it”

I didn’t understand why, it’s a fucking walkie talkie? What’s the big deal? Go get a Dora the Explorer one to replace it from Target??

I let my inner Mickey Milkovich come out, and play cool.

Him: you fucking stole it

Me:

This 15 year old Ben Shapiro-looking fucker starts grilling me, and literally places me under theatre arrest. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room I was cleaning, in other words.

He gets uncomfortably close—just me and this weird boy in this dark theatre—and goes, “I want you to be brutally honest with me...did you take the walkie talkie? I won’t tell the manager that you did.”

If you guys know me well enough from my blog, then you know this boy suffered a great deal of aggressive sarcasm in response.

He gets pissed (brown-noser), and tells me to continue cleaning, as he leaves the theatre.

Only ten minutes go by until he comes back, but this time with “good cop”.

I roll my eyes, and turn the vacuum off.

They stand at the bottom of the cinema blocking my entrance with their arms folded, and start interrogating me about stealing it.

I give them some more Mickey Milkovich sarcasm, as I had already explained to them a hundred times what happened.

They involve the manager (snitches) and now I’m really in trouble.

They force me to go into the cinema whilst the movie is still playing to look for it. Begrudgingly grabbing my flashlight, and preparing for rightfully angry people as I search their crotches in the middle of a highly anticipated movie, I head inside theatre 3.

Fuck doing that though, I watch the movie instead with the people and eat some popcorn.

Figuring a reasonable amount of time to search had gone by, I sadly leave the cool laser battle scene, and head back out.

Me: “I searched and couldn’t find it.”

Power-complex 15 year old with a punchable Ben Shapiro face: “Did you look everywhere in the cinema??”

Me: “Yeah, I shoved a flashlight up seat 33’s asshole and checked it myself.”

Some more pissy exchanges take place, and I’m told to go clean another cinema.

I’m having fun at this point, because I’ve worked enough jobs to know this situation was being dealt with incredibly immaturely by the other staff.

Regarding accidents like these in the workplace, and given how big the cinema chain is, they should know insurance covers a simple walkie talkie, and that assuming the new employee stole something which is misplaced is a bad way to integrate them into your company. It’s simply a bad look for your business.

I’m cleaning another cinema when all three come in, and tell me they’re going to put cinema 3 on lockdown when the movie ends, and check everyone’s bags.

I’m amused at this point, so I really just go “damn bro that’s wild”

They do exactly that, and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.

People are angry and annoyed—all 130 of them at 9:30pm huddled in a group, having their bags searched for a damn walkie talkie.

After discovering no one had actually stolen it, like I said, they start interrogating me again.

“Are you sure it was cinema 3??? Is your memory perhaps failing you???”

“If I say yes, will I go home sooner?” (my shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I wasn’t allowed to leave)

Naturally, I stayed another 40 minutes, and had to search the entire building. I’m talking arcade, toilets, offices—everywhere.

It is eventually deemed completely lost, and I basically end the night saying, “well, I ain’t about to strip nude for you all for a full body search, and although I’ve never had such a fun shift anywhere else, I’m not a fan of work environments that promote skepticism and cohort-wide distrust. I ain’t coming in next week, or the week after that, or the...well, I think you get the point.”

I leave my badge behind, and basically book it out of the cinema an hour after my shift was supposed to end. I worked illegally longer than I was supposed to, and wasn’t given the legal shift break.

I received text messages and emails from the head office shortly after, asking if I was coming back, and ignored them for a little while, as although I can handle irl confrontation, virtual ones spook me?

Anywho, the walkie talkie actually costs $1000, but as mentioned before, I, an adult, recognise insurance covers these sorts of things, especially in companies as big as these.

So, moral of the story, don’t leave 15 year olds in charge of adults, because most of the time, they’re too young to realise what insurance policies are :)

#I have so many more stories like this #and I’m pretty sure I left a few good details out #but it was like 2 months ago so I don’t remember #was a wild night #and I can’t wait to tell it around a fellowship campfire #or to my kids #I’m not kidding when I say I am literally Alvin the chipmunk given how many times I get myself into trouble and sticky situations #xoxo gossip girl

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fools Rush In

Part 4

Series: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Riley)

Previous chapters can be found here.

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. As a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

A/N: No wacky drabble for this one. Went a wee bit over and couldn’t cut. Oh well...there’s always next time. This is an 18+ series.

A/N: The lyrics to the song Maxwell sings comes from a Tik Tok video that was shared with me and the idea to include it in this is not my own hahahaha I will post the link to the video in comments to give the maker proper credit and just in case anyone wants to actually watch it. I thought it was funny..

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and all of my lovely pre-readers.

Warning: Mention of STD’s

Permanent Tags: @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn

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Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

____________

All Riley wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, snuggle up in a blanket on the couch with a Lifetime movie, and carry on with the rest of her life.

She'd had this crazy but exciting night out with a fantastic guy. They had a little too much to drink and woke up the next morning to find they were married to each other.

And she wasn't just married to anyone. No, it had to be the King of a small European country she'd never heard of before.

That's not something that just happened to everyone.

Depending on how one viewed her circumstances she was either the luckiest or unluckiest woman in all of Vegas.

If she were a betting person, she'd place money on the latter.

Riley stood at the penthouse door, engaged in a stare down with the blonde-haired obstacle blocking the exit.

In front of her was a woman wearing a black and white fur coat, a strand of pearls that hung loosely around her neck, and an impudent scowl.

If evil were a lady, Riley surmised she was looking at her.

Madeleine's green eyes bore agitation and scorn as she studied the petite figure she recognized from the dozens of photos that bombarded her text messages.

"You must be the bimbo who thinks she will steal my crown and title."

"Excuse me?" Riley's eyes narrowed, not knowing who she was speaking to, but could already tell she didn’t care to know.

Leo stepped up protectively behind Riley and growled at the countess. "Go away, Madeleine! How many times do we have to tell you the dalmatians aren't for sale?"

"You wish I were here for dalmatians," Madeleine sneered. "Now, out of my way, heathens."

She pushed her way past the two and stalked inside while Mara shuffled behind. She removed her cashmere gloves and took notice of her fiance with his back pressed against the bar top, one legs crossed over the other, and sipping casually on his scotch.

Liam tipped the glass to his lips as if he didn't have a care in the world and swallowed. "Can I offer you a glass of wine, dear? Or a cronut? Perhaps a ride to the middle of the desert to be left for dead?"

"That's quite alright," Madeleine quipped as she ripped the glass out of Liam's hand and slammed it down on the bar. "But maybe you'd like to first explain why I have been inundated with one message after the next telling me you were married to this ..." She motioned her hand toward Riley with derision. "This ... bitch?"

Liam paused as if he were thinking about it, then shook his head. "No. Not really." She's not a bitch ... she's amazing. He wondered why he couldn't say that out loud.

Stunned, Riley looked up at Leo in disbelief. "Did she really just call me a bitch? She doesn't even know me."

Leo nodded with a compassionate smile on his face, then pulled her further inside and shut the door.

He wasn't about to let her go now.

Liam grabbed his drink, pushed himself off the bar, and strolled to the center of the room. He could feel Madeleine's icy glare following his every movement. The King hoped his flippant attitude was enough to penetrate deep into her frozen exterior and piss her off even more. "I thought you were in New York, Mads. 8 million people in that city for you to torment, and you still make time to hop on your broomstick and find me. I have to say … I'm touched."

Madeleine shot him a dirty look. "Do you have any idea what I've been through because of what you did last night?"

He shrugged. "Nope, and I don't care."

"Well, you're going to care when I tell you everything that happened." She disregarded the audible groan and eye roll from him as she began her diatribe of offenses. "I had just settled in for the night when I get a message from that simpleton, Penelope, telling me what you did. I tried to call you, but apparently, you and the rest of your entourage of losers blocked my number. So I had this incompetent boob of a guard you hired for me book the first flight out here.

“When I got to JFK, I was detained and strip-searched because someone falsely alerted authorities claiming I was a Colombian drug lord, only in the U.S. to sell cocaine and hypodermic needles to children --"

Leo snorted.

Liam curled his lips into a devilish grin, knowing exactly who did it. He glanced subtly to Mara, who winked back at him.

"Are you even listening to me, Liam? As if that nightmare wasn't horrid enough, I find out Mara booked coach class … COACH! Coach is so beneath someone like me. There were babies and old people and sodas. But the worst was when we finally arrived here; they strip-searched me again. I had to get my own baggage and ride in one of those god-awful smelly shuttle vans to this hotel. And do you know why I had to do all of that? Because you're a complete moron, Liam. The people of Cordonia are laughing at you; you know that, right? I always knew you would be a total embarrassment and fuck up, but this is beyond anything I imagined."

A downcast expression was plastered on Liam's face as he stared down at the drink in his shaky hand. Those words stung -- “a total embarrassment and fuck up.” In his mind, he felt she was right. He had let down even his own expectation of himself and the reputation of the monarchy.

There was nothing to do but stand there and stew in silence.

But Riley wouldn’t.

She shrugged Leo's hand from her shoulder and spun Madeleine around by the arm to face her. "Is this what you do? You go around insulting everyone and being a first-class bitch? I will have you know, Liam is not any of those things. He's the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met. And it's no wonder he looked so miserable last night at the club. I couldn't understand why at first, but now ... now it all makes sense. Did you ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a fucking cunt, he wouldn't have been drinking so much and been so willing to accept the company of another woman?"

Liam felt his heart twinge. Riley had every right to be upset with him, and he felt guilty for putting her in this situation. But there she was, defending him. God, she was hot.

Madeleine guffawed. "How cute. You've got your little whore taking up for you now."

"That's enough!" Liam's eyes landed sharply on her. Before he could stop himself, the next few words sprang from his lips as naturally as his breath. "You will not speak to my wife -- your Queen -- like that again, or so help me I will charge you where you stand for treason against the Crown. Do I make myself clear?"

Riley's eyes rounded, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

Leo loudly cheered and pumped his fist in the air.

Liam stood his ground as he glowered back at his slack-jawed, now ex-fiancee.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't be serious? We are getting married in two weeks. I'm going to be the Queen!" Her tone was one of anger and desperation.

He laughed wryly in her face. "Not anymore."

He looked past a stunned Madeleine to the heedless guard smirking behind her. "Mara, please see to it that the countess returns to the airport and doesn't disturb us again."

She agreed and led a vociferously-protesting Madeleine toward the doorway.

"You'll regret this, Liam. You'll both pay for this travesty!"

"Use the taser on her, Mara!" Leo bounced with excitement as he followed them and opened the door. He handed the guard a $100 bill as she walked by and whispered, "Make sure they strip search her again. A bonus if they need double gloves and lube."

"You got it, boss."

Leo slammed the door and clapped. "Ding-dong, the witch is gone! So. Do you need help packing, sis? We still have a couple of hours before we go back to Cordonia. That should be enough time to gather some things."

Riley stammered, looking between the two men, completely dumbfounded by what just took place.

Liam noticed. He knew what he said to Madeleine about her being his wife and Queen was most likely awkward for her.

They didn't know each other; it was a fact, he continued to remind himself.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Uh, Riley ... I just want you to know ... I only said that stuff because of Madeleine ..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I knew that." She chuckled nervously and waved her hand. "But what about your engagement?"

"Yeah, Liam. You gotta have a queen." Leo clapped the back of one hand against the palm of the other and exclaimed, "Dem's da rules."

Liam shook his head and carried his empty glass to the open kitchen. "I know that, Leo. But I will not ask Riley to give up her life here just to help me clean up my mess. She deserves better than that."

Riley crossed her arms on the counter that looked into the kitchen, watching Liam get a bottled water from the fridge. "What happens if you don't have a Queen?"

Liam twisted the cap and gave a half-shrug. "I don't have a choice. I'll have to marry Madeleine." The words stung his lips.

"But she's so pissed at you right now."

He chuckled. "That won't stop her. She wants the crown, and that's it."

Riley could see the sadness in his eyes, the same sadness she saw last night in the club where they first met. "You'll be miserable with her, though," she muttered wistfully.

He nodded, regret written on his face. "Yeah."

Riley stood silent; she weighed the pros and cons of such a massive uprooting. Her life had been slightly stalled and bland for the last few years. Las Vegas was her getaway to a new life from New York, where she left behind both regrets and failed relationships. And yet ... this new place wasn't everything she told herself it would be.

She looked at Liam and felt her heart break. She understood him more than he realized.

But ... to be a Queen?

Riley inhaled deeply and prepared to speak up when Liam's phone rang.

He placed the cap on his water, sat it on the counter, and lifted his phone from the pocket of his shorts. "It's Maxwell," he called out.

Leo rushed to him. "Put it on speaker, Li!"

"Maxwell, I have you on speaker. Leo and Riley are with me. How's Drake?"

"He's in the pharmacy, and I'm standing outside getting air. It's going to take a while to amass all the medication and creams he needs."

The brothers looked at each other with wide eyes. Riley covered her mouth to prevent the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I think I'll give you guys some privacy. I'll just be in the bathroom."

Liam nodded and turned his attention back to the call. "Is it really that bad, Max? I mean, I think we know what he has."

"Dudes, I don't think you can even begin to guess half the shit Drake's got."

"You gotta tell us what the Drakester has, Max."

"I'm not really supposed to say."

They could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was almost like he wanted to tell them, but needed a little more coaxing.

"Maxwell," Liam spoke. "If Drake doesn't want us to know, then you should probably keep it to yourself ... for now."

"I did kind of write a song about everything he was diagnosed with for a TikTok video. Drake only said not to tell anyone. He never said I couldn't sing about it."

Leo nodded his head. "Agreed. Sing that song, Beaumont."

They could hear Maxwell shuffle further away from what sounded like a crowded street.

"Okay, the coast is clear," Maxwell said as he took a deep breath. The boys hugged their ears against Liam's cell phone.

"Drake just left the clinic, and I'm afraid its bad news.

So now I'm singing this song about it hoping it gets views.

Don't know how he's still alive.

Or how he survived.

The doctor said he's got five ... nasty STIs.

He's got some in his balls … got some in his ass.

And what's worse is his curly pubes are crawling with crabs.

He's got herpes! From a booty call!

He's got syphilis …now his dick is raw.

He's got chlamydia … And it's so sore.

And he doesn't even know where he got genital warts."

Liam pressed two fingers into both sides of his temples while he stared blankly at his phone. "Un - believable."

Leo swiped the tears from his eyes and made no attempts to hide the giant smile curling his lips or his overwhelming giddiness. "I've never been more proud of the Drakester than I am at this moment. He actually beat me out on this one. Gotta say ... I don't mind losing to him this time."

“Liam. Leo. I gotta go; Drake’s on his way out. See ya back at the hotel.”

Leo went to the refrigerator to search for a snack, pulling out a leftover pizza. “Ya know, we should probably warn the maid she may need to get a haz-mat team before cleaning Drake’s room.”

Riley rounded the corner. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

Liam smiled. “That’s very kind of you say. He’ll be fine … I think.”

She fidgeted with her bracelet and glanced over at Leo placing a slice of cold pizza on top of another slice and taking a large bite. “Leo, I hate to ask while you’re eating … again. But would you mind if I spoke to your brother for a moment? Privately.”

Leo chewed quickly while shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “Sure. I needed to use the shitter, anyway. Pinquee Kittee’s casserole isn’t sitting too well in the Leo tummy.” He grabbed the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.

Liam looked curiously at Riley, not able to read her expression or have any clue what she would want to talk about. “You needed to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About our marriage ...”

#the royal romance #king liam #choices liam x mc #king Liam x mc #liam x mc #choices fanfiction #trr #trr au fanfic #choices trr #Fools Rush In #bbrandy2002 #tw: std #a lot of stds

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