#Nic goes places! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

austinrrylover · 5 months ago

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LOVE ISLAND - NICHOLAS CHAVEZ

summary: francesca works on a film set, which stars nicholas chavez. after meeting in a very spontaneous way, francesca gets the job of being his assistant for the shoot

warnings: MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut at the end (it’s worth it, i promise)

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‘Get me her! The blonde one!’ Ariana said with a strict expression as she pointed in my direction.

I only saw her pointing at me from afar but I heard when she said it. She wants me? A brunette gentleman in a gray sweatshirt and trousers comes closer to me as I just stand trying not to look at him directly and just analyze the call sheet I already know from front to back.

‘So, hi, Ari wants you to be her assistant today. The other girl dropped out, fired. Okay?’ He asks and I look at her.

Ariana is so intimidating I have heard all the stories of how easy it is for her to fire people over stupid mistakes. But hey, this is what this industry is about and I have been waiting to step up my game.

‘Of course.’ I say smiling.

‘Okay. Put a sweater on you have to go out to the trailers with her.’ He says and I quickly rush over to the chair I put my jumper on.

I was wearing simple blue jeans and a white dress shirt, which was now covered by an oversized gray hoodie.

Ariana waved at me, her expression not changing from her usual stern face. I swiftly try to catch up to her.

‘I am going to go meet the AD, you stay here and wait for everybody’s cars to arrive.’ She says as we exit the big studio door.

People are already deep in work, gaffers fixing lights, the camera is already set up. A woman with a big suitcase comes up to me.

‘Hi, make-up for Miss Coleman. Where do I find her trailer?’ She asks me.

‘Uhm…’ I look around and see the trailers.

‘Come with me.’ She follows me and I come across the trailers.

On each door there are different names. ‘Mr. Waltz’ ‘Mr. Butler’ ‘Mr. Chavez’ ‘Ms. Coleman’ I stop.

‘Here it is. I don’t believe she has arrived yet.’ I smile and she gets in the trailer.

People just keep coming and coming when I see Ariana running toward me with a keycard.

‘Road’s closed on the 6th. Four actors are going to be coming from the back entrance, the 2nd. Go over there with the cart and pick them up, thanks.’ She hands me the keycard and the key for the cart.

She turns away and starts running as a big Range Rover arrives.

‘And get them in make-up!’ She shouts as I see the director quickly getting out of the car and Ariana running to him.

Cart. I check the time: 7:56. I quickly get on it and I follow the signs which point to the 3rd enterance. Or was it the second? Shit. I look at the keycard.

‘Opening 1-2-3rd enterance.’

‘Fuck’ I say under my breath.

Third fucking day and I already fuck it up. I usually handle really small PA jobs here and on other films, where people need me as a helping hand, bringing them coffee or help around on the set but now when I actually have something important to do I fuck it up.

I reach gate number three. 7:59. The actors should be arriving at 8. Nobody is here. Am I at the right enterance? I look around trying to determine if I am at the right place when I see a big black car rushing in front of the gate. It doesn’t stop and just goes behind a building so I can’t see, but it is enough for me to notice that I am at the wrong gate. I try pushing the gas in as much as I can on this awfully safe and slow cart to reach the 2nd gate.

When I get there the driver is already out of the car, trying to open the gate with his keycard which is obviously not working, since he has one for the main entrance.

‘I’m here! I’m here!’ I shout as I get off from the cart.

‘I’m not getting fired for you not getting here on time. I was here at 8:00, I just couldn’t get in. Make sure to tell your supervisor. Faszomba.’ He angrily says with his hungarian accent and I sigh.

‘My fault. Sorry. I’m supposed to take them from here. Whose driver are you?’ I ask.

‘Nic.’ He answers and I take a sharp breath.

Nicholas Chavez. Fuck. I try to say something when he gets out of the car, his brunette hair messy on his head, little curls forming where his sunglasses are pushed onto his forehead. He has a bunch of papers in his hand and was wearing a simple black zipup with black jeans. He was breathtaking to say at least.

‘Thanks Robert.’ He smiles and pats him on the shoulder as I open the gate with my keycard. He looks at me.

‘I don’t believe we have met.’ He extends his hand.

‘No, I am Francesca.’ I say and take his hand.

‘Nicholas. Are you PA?’ He asks.

‘Yes.’ I smile and I slowly start walking to the cart.

‘We have to wait for the others. Or do you want to go?’ I ask. What a stupid fucking question. He is busy, why would he want to fucking wait around.

‘No sorry, you must be busy and all that make-up, I will take you’ I get into the cart.

‘You think I need that much make-up?’ He smiles. God his smile. It’s so flirty but so innocent at the same time.

‘No, I mean, no, your character and—‘

‘I’m messing with you. It’s okay. We can wait.’ He smiles and opens up the script in his hand.

‘Do you want me to run lines with you?’ I ask and god why can’t I shut up?

‘No thank you, I’m okay.’ He smiles reassuringly and I look away awkwardly.

‘First day?’ He looks up.

‘No actually, third. Here. I worked on other films.’ I say.

‘Are you from Hungary?’ He asks me.

‘No, I’m from Italy but we moved here when I was 10.’ I explain. Is he talking to me just because he is trying to be nice?

‘That’s great. I love Budapest. Italy too.’ He smiles and I smile back.

We sit in silence and after a few seconds he looks back to his script. I keep looking back and forth between him and the enterance, why aren’t they coming?

8:14

Ariana is going to kick my ass. The main actors are nowhere to be found and one of them I’m basically holding hostage on this fucking cart. I nervously look at my phone. 8:15. Fuck me. 15 minutes late on a film set is a nightmare.

‘Maybe we should go.’ Nicholas looks at me and gets into the passenger seat of the cart.

‘Okay, I’m going to take you and then I’ll come back.’ I say while taking a deep breath and getting in to the driver seat.

‘Relax, Francesca. It’s okay.’ He reassures me with the biggest smirk on his face. Does he think my frustration is funny?

‘They can fire me. Not that it’s any of your fault I’m just saying.’ I mumble.

‘They can fire me too.’ I huff loudly. Him? Are you kidding me?

How would they fire him? Never in a million years would happen.

‘What, they really can.’ He smiles and I start the cart.

‘I can imagine.’ I say, boldly. Are we bonding?

‘Or I could just say this cute PA didn’t get me to my make-up in time.’ He smiles at me, as I see from the corner of my eye.

I blush and my brain goes through hundreds of possible scenarios all at once as to what should I reply to him. He notices my frustration and chuckles…I don’t know if it’s a polite chuckle or a real one but I’ll take it.

‘Do you know if my assistant is already there?’ He asks.

‘No.’ I say as I start the engine and I turn the wheel to turn around.

The route is kind of embarrassing, he is just looking around, but I don’t dare to form a word, what if he wants to be left alone? But what if he wants me to talk to him? Fuck.

‘Do-‘ I start as my phone suddenly rings. I take it from my pocket. ‘Ariana Dern’. Fuck. I put it on speakerphone.

‘Hi!’

‘Where the fuck are you?’ I suddenly regret putting it on speakerphone as Nicholas turns his head toward the phone with wide eyes.

‘I am bringing Mr. Chavez to the set.’

‘And the others?’ She asks and I stutter.

‘They… only the driver of Mr. Chavez came, but I’m going to go back and try…’

‘No, come here, bring him and then get off that thing. We need you here. Stage 4.’ She says and hangs up.

‘Sorry. You know how producers are.’ I smile.

‘What were you going to ask?’ He looks at me.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘What were you going to ask me?’ He asks again, patiently, slowly.

‘Oh… just… I don’t remember.’ Fuck.

‘Oh ok. Well give me a heads up if you do.’ He smiles as we arrive to the set.

We stop and he gets off the cart. Ariana is running towards us.

‘Mr. Chavez, Nicholas, hi, your trailer is just there, ready for makeup!’ She smiles and shoves like three hundred pages of paper in my hands.

‘Bring this to the gaffers.’ She whispers to me. I look at her, and then Nicholas.

‘Now.’ She says again and I smile at Nicholas before leaving.

‘Bye.’ I say shyly.

‘Bye Francesca.’ He says loud enough, for sure everybody around us heard it.

We lock eyes one last time as he makes his way towards his trailer, Ariana pushing on his back softly. He looks at me and smirks. Or I just imagine that, I honestly don’t know.

With his last gaze, Ariana looks back at me too, shooting me a stern look which makes me remember the dozens of paper in my hand.

I go into the set that is already built, shouts of ‘Lights on!’ coming from all directions. People rushing from place to place and electricians writing notes. I look at the papers in my hand and search for a gaffer to give this to.

‘The DOP wants this?’ An older man asks me as he looks at the paper in my hand.

‘I guess so.’ I say, I have no idea.

‘Then get him here, if you are not sure.’ He scolds me.

I nod and I start going back towards the trailers. I need to find Ariana because this is way above my expertise. I see the director again, he is wearing glasses and is talking to one of the actors.

‘You!’ I hear Ariana’s voice. ‘Your name?’

‘Francesca.’ I say.

‘Okay, from this moment you are cast PA. Don’t bother with anything else. These fucking incompetent bitches can’t show up in time. If they come, tell all of them that they are fired, understood?’ She asks.

‘Yes, the gaffers need the DOP, right now. Any idea where I can find him?’ I ask with a smile.

She waves her hands in front of my face.

‘Did you hear anything I just said? Don’t bother with it. Go! You are going to help Mr. Chavez and Mr. Waltz. Mr. Waltz has his own assistant team so you’ll probably just need to arrange his make up and lunch for him. The young kid, you go and ask him what he needs, okay?’ She rolls her eyes and goes right past me.

I nod to myself and I go to the trailer Nicholas was going into before.

I knock and I enter. Nicholas is getting his makeup done, two girls are doing a big scar onto his forehead.

‘Francesca!’ He says jokingly.

I smile and I step closer.

‘Do you need anything?’ I ask.

‘Nothing, darling, what time do I need to be on set?’ He asks me.

I’m slightly taken aback by his overly flirty name but I try to not have a huge reaction to it.

‘Thirty minutes.’ I say as I look at the call sheet on my phone.

‘Thank you.’ He says.

It’s only 9, and it already feels like a whole day has passed.

The rest of the day went fast though. Nicholas had scenes from 9 till 1 and then I arranged his lunch, but had to be on my way for Mr. Waltz who also needed his schedule. After that, Mr. Waltz had scenes from 1 till 5 and Nicholas once again from 6 till 9.

I’m amazed how these actors put their body and soul into these roles and how the director guides them perfectly. It has always been a big dream of mine to be a director or a writer and I can’t believe my hard work is starting to pay off.

After the first day I helped Ariana with some paperwork and got on the bus to get home. I knew I had to be up at five so I went to bed as soon as I could.

The next day went the same as this one. In the morning I went to get Mr. Waltz and helped him with getting the call sheet and organising his lunch. Nicholas didn’t have any scenes today.

I tried to make friends today because I had less to do with one person less to take care of.

The next day Nicholas came bright and early, the crew wasn’t even here yet.

‘I need to talk to the director.’ He said as I was sitting in his trailer when he changed into his costume.

‘About the shirt?’ The costume designer girl asked.

‘Yes, can someone get him?’ He asked politely.

‘He is not here yet, but I’ll tell you when he is.’ I said.

He smiled which I could take out as a bit of an annoyance, like he was impatient.

The costume designers slowly got out of his trailer and I followed them outside before he stopped me.

‘Can I have a word?’ He asked and I came back inside.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you know the director?’ He asked, sitting down on the couch.

‘Yeah, I have seen him around but haven’t talked to him.’ I say and we fall into silence.

‘I think he regrets casting me.’ He sighs. I look at him with wide eyes. Why would he think that? I sit down next to him.

‘Why would you think that?’ I ask when I know if he thinks that the director failed at his job. The director’s most important task is to make the actors feel comfortable.

‘He doesn’t really give me any criticism. He just says okay to everything. I- I don’t know.’ He says and this sudden vulnerability makes me realise how hard it must be for him to away from all his family and friends, all alone in this new country.

‘I’m sorry, it’s not like you can do anything about it, never mind.’ He is avoiding looking me in the eye.

‘No- no, you can tell me. I- seriously think you are doing an amazing job but maybe he is just intimidated to give you advice, you should just talk to him about it, in my opinion.’ I say.

‘You think?’ I nod.

‘I think you are doing a really great job. You are going places, good for you.’ I smile and I make a ‘bold’ move and put my hand on his back. He looks up at me.

‘Thank you.’ He smiles and I take my hand back. The awkward silence and him staring into my eyes makes me jump up on my feet and stand in front of him.

‘Do you want a coffee?’ I ask and he chuckles. He stands up and suddenly we are incredibly close.

‘I’d be so lost in everything if I didn’t have you.’ He half whispers.

‘I’m just doing my job.’ I say and fuck I should have said something more friendly I know, but there is no going back now.

He smiles and moves past me.

The rest of the day I’m mainly on set. I am very exhausted by the afternoon and Nicholas still has to do a whole scene which is 2 hours in the call sheet.

He rushes into his trailer and I run with him.

The make-up girls are already inside and they are putting oil on his body because he is shirtless in this scene. His hair is messy and all their hands are roaming over his chest. God.

‘Do you need water?’ I ask.

‘No thanks, darling.’ He says, again with this name.

One girls eye shoots up to me and I look down to the papers in my hand in embarrassment.

‘Okay, you gotta be on set Nicholas.’ The AD runs into the trailer.

He nods and I help him put on his robe.

‘Break a leg.’ I say in a whisper.

And he actually turns and winks at me. Then he is out of the trailer.

‘That Nicholas guy is so fucking sexy.’ I overhear from a dressing room. I pass by and look in with a side eye. I can’t recognise either girls standing inside.

‘He is, I was supposed to be his PA, but that bitch pulled me out last minute.’ She sighs.

‘Fuck, I’m sorry girl.’ Another one laughs.

‘That blonde girl is his PA.’ One says, whose voice I recognise, the make-up artist.

‘Lucky-‘ One says as the other cuts her off.

‘Uh-uh. Not luck. I was doing his make-up when he literally asked for her. He literally said to Ariana that he wants her.’ The make-up artist says.

I try to back away but I can’t stop eavesdropping.

‘What the fuck? Does he know her or something?’ One asks with a judgy tone.

‘She probably sucked his dick or he can see she wants to suck his dick. He called her darling when she came inside.’ She says and I gulp. What? Was this really the case?

‘Sleeping her way to the top, purr girl.’ One says and they all laugh.

No. Does everybody think this?

I try to think back on the week and realisation hits me. It really was too good to be true. Did he really choose me because he wants to fuck me and then get me fired?

I hear the director yell ‘Cut!’ from a distance and somebody else shout ‘That’s a wrap for today!’ I make my way back to the set and I see him talking to his acting partner before shaking his hand and the director’s hand. He starts going towards his trailer when the make-up girl run up to him with a few towels.

I slowly step toward his trailer. I don’t know what to think.

Ariana comes behind me.

‘Ah, Francesca! Brilliant work today! Thank you! Never had a better PA here!’ She moves past me.

30 minutes pass when I help Mr. Waltz and his team get to the right gate to go home. I make my way back to Nicholas’ trailer.

I knock and take a deep breath.

‘Come in.’ He says.

I step in and he is still wearing his robe with jeans and is sitting on the couch on his phone.

‘Hi Francesca.’ He smiles.

‘Hi.’ I say bluntly. ‘Your driver will be here in 15.’ I say and I open the door. I don’t wish to be here for more than necessary.

‘What’s the problem?’ He stands up.

I close the door back.

‘Nothing.’ I lie. The problem is that he is ruining my reputation here. I didn’t sleep my way up here.

‘Sure?’ He steps closer and that’s when I realise actually how tall he is.

‘Yes. Are you okay?’ Why would he even care how am I?

‘Yes. Tell me the problem, baby.’ He whispers and I scoff loudly at that name.

‘What?’ He steps back.

If I tell this to him, I lose my job. Or maybe I won’t.

‘You know I heard people say they think I got this job because I sucked your dick?’ I say before I could even think if I should say it.

‘That’s not true of course, but the big difference between you and me is that it’s good for your reputation that you sleep around because you are this sexy superstar in the making, but for me… it’s the worst.’ I confess.

‘You think I’m sexy?’ He stands closer.

‘You are missing the point. And I do not, I said that as “the public”.’ I lie. Of course I think he is sexy.

‘I only asked for you because you seemed like a normal person.’ He says. ‘Not because I wanted you to suck my dick. Not that I would oppose to it.’

He adds that to the end which makes me blush.

‘Nicholas. I’m serious, do you want me to lose my job? You can’t talk to me that way.’ I say.

‘I would never let that happen.’ He says as he moves his hand up to my jaw.

I take in a sharp breath. My body is fighting my mind, I arch my back to get just slightly closer to him but my mind is telling me: no. He looks deep into my eyes and smirks.

‘Nicholas please. We can’t do this.’ I whisper as one of his hands travels down to my waist.

‘Do what?’ He smirks and this playfulness is getting into my head, I suddenly feel dizzy and my mind is blank, just him.

‘What’s the problem with this?’ He leans in closer and before I could react he kisses my neck softly.

I am suddenly overwhelmed by his closeness and his lips on me so I put my hands on his chest, regaining my thinking.

‘Nicholas, I’m serious. This can lose me my job.’ I say.

‘Nobody has to know.’ He looks me into the eye and I can see his eyes are full of lust. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t let them fire you.’

‘My reputation would be ruined, and what about my next job, where I’d get a different actor not you. Do I have to sleep with him?’ I ask.

‘No, definitely not. I’d hate that.’ He says and I smile and gently push him away.

‘We can’t, Nic. I’m serious.’ I smile softly at him.

He sighs deeply.

‘Okay. Just friends then?’ He asks and extends his hand.

‘Yes.’ For the next two months for sure.

I take his hand and suddenly he pulls me forward into his chest. I’m once again taken over by him and he smirks as he sees my red face.

‘Just one kiss?’ He asks with that smirk that I just can’t, can’t even explain and I fold. I nod.

He rushes forward and suddenly our lips are on each others and he is pushing me back against the door, his huge hands settling on my waist. I can’t help but to put my hand into his hair and pull it just a bit before he uses his tongue to enter my mouth. It’s too much but I love it. It kills me that he is only wearing a robe and I could touch his perfect chest, but I won’t do it because I fear I couldn’t stop after that. He moans into my mouth and I slow him down. I give him a last gentle peck on his plump lips.

‘Get dressed.’ I say and he steps away from me.

‘Okay.’ He smiles and I leave his trailer.

I go and get my bag and my food from the locker and check on my phone when I can catch the next bus. It says 3 minutes so I run. I say bye to everyone who is still there, and although I wanted to day bye to Nicholas, I see him getting into his car as I run past them. I hate running to catch the bus, I feel like it’s so humiliating when you run and put in all that effort and in the end you just fail.

This is what happened to me. The bus didn’t wait for me and now I have to wait in the cold for 25 minutes.

Sitting in the dark bus stop is when it hits me. I just had a heavy make out session with this hot actor that everybody wants and I was the one who stopped it, when I could have gone on and… I don’t want to imagine what would have happened.

‘No, Nicholas, we should stop.’ I say breathlessly.

‘Why?’ He asks and puts just one fingertip up my shirt, my skin heating up from that one little contact.

‘You just said we are just friends.’ I manage to say but he can’t stop kissing me.

‘I can’t do that baby, not now that I have tasted you.’ He says and he grabs into my ass and pushes me more into the wall. ‘I want you so bad.’

‘Nic…’ I moan as he makes his way down and kisses my neck and my jawline.

‘Shush, be quiet.’ He says as he gets on his knees and unzips my pants. I take a sharp breath.

‘So sexy.’ He whispers as he slides down my pants. I step out of them. ‘Hey!’

I look down at him as he is waving hey to me.

‘Hey! Francesca!’ He smiles from his knees. What?

I look up and my daydream fades, as Nicholas is waving me from his car that just stopped in front of me.

‘Get in!’ He says as he gets out of the car.

‘What?’ I ask and he comes and puts his hand on my lower back.

‘Robert is gonna take you home.’ He says and he opens the car door for me. I sit in and he sits next to me.

‘Köszi, Robi.’ I say in Hungarian and Robert starts the car.

‘You can speak fluently?’ Nic asks me.

‘Yes, uhm, mostly.’ I say nervously. Suddenly all that confidence that I had before, stopping him and all that, is gone.

‘That’s awesome. Italian too?’ He asks.

‘Yes, also, mostly.’ I reply.

‘Can you say… you are so beautiful in both languages?’ He asks and ugh I hate how he can cloud my brain. I’m sick of his games and sick of his childlike playfulness when in reality he probably just wants to fuck me and get it over with. Ariana said I did a good job and what if I’ll risk this film for this guy? I won’t do it on the next one.

I lean in closer.

‘Why do you want to know? Do you have your eyes on someone?’ I smile.

He is visibly taken aback, but his smile tells me he enjoys this side of me. I do too.

‘Yes, a very beautiful, smart and hot woman.’ He says and he moves his pinky finger to touch the side of my thigh.

‘Lucky lady… what’s her name?’ I push my thigh to his finger, so he puts the whole of his palm on me.

‘Wouldn’t want you to be jealous, baby.’ He says and he gives my thigh a firm grab.

‘Who says I’d be jealous?’ I ask.

‘I think it’s obvious. Your eyes are begging for me right now.’ He leans in to my ear. ‘I can see it in your eyes… you want to just get up from the seat, get on top of me, rip off my shirt and ride me here.’ He whispers and I get goosebumps.

‘Isn’t that right, baby?’ He says and moves his hand to palm my inner thigh.

‘Hm?’ He nudges me with his nose.

‘Do you want that?’ I ask.

‘More than anything.’ He says and he tries to move in to kiss me.

‘Patience. Can’t we wait… till we are more private?’ I ask and he nods and smirks.

After a frustrating car ride we get out at Nic’s hotel. We tell Robert I live close here so he doesn’t find it suspicious that I get out here. Like he couldn’t see him whispering and gripping my thigh just 10 minutes ago.

We get into the elevator and surprisingly, he doesn’t make any moves. We just stand in silence. Which I don’t like so I turn and press my lips to his. He quickly returns the kiss and grabs me from the back of my thighs to lift me up and push me against the wall.

‘What about patience?’ He asks and he palms my breast.

‘Fuck that.’ I say and the elevator door opens, Nic carries me to the door, holds me with one arm and opens the door with his other hand. When inside he throws me down on the giant couch and gets on top of me.

‘I want you so fucking bad, Francesca.’ He says and I quickly get to work and lift his shirt off. It is a different experience seeing it now, in front of my face, the abs glistening in the small light, ready to be touched by me, then in front of all those people today.

‘I can’t believe how sexy you are.’ I say boldly and he guides my hand to touch his toned stomach.

‘You haven’t even seen everything yet, princess.’ He keeps kissing me and moves past my neck, and while still holding my hand he undoes one button on my shirt with his teeth. I’m not sure if he is very skilled or he just ripped it. He moves my hand lower and I can feel his v-line which has a tiny trail of hair on it when I reach the waistband of his jeans. He uses his other hand to undo all my buttons, setting my bra covered breasts free.

He takes a deep breath and starts kissing them. I fidget with the waistband of his jeans when I finally reach inside. He moans.

He grabs my hand, pulls it out and props my hands up, on the top of my head.

‘Keep them there.’ He says and starts kissing down my belly.

He unzips my pants, pulls them down and pulls my panties to the side.

‘It’s so hot that I made you this wet.’ He looks up to me and takes a long lick up. I can’t help but be loud. He starts taking smaller licks at my clit and one of his fingers comes up to tease my hole. I reach down to grab his beautiful messy hair.

‘I said keep them there.’ He murmurs without parting from my pussy.

I put my hand back to the side of my head and I close my eyes to really feel how good he is doing. He is basically making out with me down there and I have to bit into my knuckle not to scream.

He suddenly grabs me by my waist and we sit up, before he takes his pants, while the only thing I can do is watch his muscles tighten with his every move and his dick jump with my every move.

He stands and he pushes me back down. He notices me staring and smirks.

‘Do you want to suck it?’ All I can do is nod and I get on my knees in front of the couch.

He puts up on foot on the couch, the other stays on the ground and puts his member right in front of my face. Despite his tallness this is the perfect level for me.

‘Suck, darling.’ He says and he puts one hand in my hair. I gently lick from the base till the tip till I take everything I can in my mouth.

‘Ah, baby, you are doing so good.’ He moans and he caresses the back of my head as I go back and forth on him.

I put my hand around the part I can’t fit and continue like that. He thrusts forward a few times which causes me to gag.

‘So good for me baby.’ He says and I look up at him.

‘Get up.’ He pulls out of my mouth and pulls me up. He sits down on the couch and pulls me on top.

‘Now, do you want this dick inside you?’ He asks and holds my face with one hand and the other slaps me on my ass.

‘Yes please.’ I say and he smirks.

‘Then get on it and bounce for me baby, I can’t wait to see your ass all on display for me.’ He says and he doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I start to get on top of him when I decide I’m gonna give him a show and I turn, my back to him.

‘Do you want it like this, Nic?’ I ask teasingly, my ass over his dick, his member already feeling my heat.

‘God, yes.’ He sighs and he grabs my waist and I sit down on it.

‘Fuck, ah fuck, you are so tight.’ He says and I start to move on it up and down.

I can hear he is enjoying himself from the loud breathing and moans, he slaps my ass occasionally, and these sounds alone are bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

He comes back from leaning in the couch and his stomach is now pressed to my back. He reaches one hand in front of me and starts massaging my clit.

‘I wish I could do you from behind all day, princess. You are so fucking pretty.’ He grabs my face and pulls it sideways to kiss me. I go harder and bounce faster on him as he plays with my clit.

‘Get off.’ He says and I do as he says, and just like I could read his mind, I get on all fours on the couch.

‘Francesca. You are such a slut for me. And you tried pretending you didn’t want me.’ He says as he comes up behind me and wastes no time pushing into me. ‘Now look at you, completely at my service.’ He says and he once again reaches to my clit and flicks it and rubs it till I’m sure I’m seeing stars.

‘Do you want to come?’ He asks when he feels me shivering under him.

‘Yes please, fuck.’ I say and I keep on fucking back on him with my ass.

‘Okay, princess.’ He says as he sets a steady pace with his thrusts and rubs my clit.

‘Come, baby, come for me, show me.’ He says into my ear and with a few more rubs I feel like I’m in heaven and I come. I come hard. In that moment he pulls out of me, I reach back to grab and jerk him all over my back and my ass. I collapse down on the bed.

I hear him grunt from behind me and as I’m about to look back…

‘No, baby! Don’t move, it’s all on your back. Wait.’ He says and he rushes to the bathroom to get a towel.

‘For your hand.’ He gives me a tissue and starts wiping the come from my back in the meantime.

I still feel powerless so I just lay on my stomach when he leans down to be face to face with me.

‘You were amazing baby. I loved it.’ He says and I smile.

‘You were pretty fucking good too.’ I say and he chuckles.

So what now? I sit down and I’m not sure where my clothes are, probably tossed somewhere. Am I supposed to go home? He disappeared into the bathroom, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to get away without having to experience his post nut clarity rejection. I find my shirt and put it on. He did indeed rip one button off. I put on my panties and I pray that me not peeing after is not going to kick me in the ass.

‘I could’ve gave you a shirt. That’s ruined.’ He comes out, just in his boxers. His hair is so messy, he is so handsome.

‘It’s okay… I can’t find my jeans.’ I say.

‘You sleep in jeans?’ He asks and I look at him and tilt my head and bit my lip to avoid my smile for a moment.

‘Nic. You don’t have to do this. It’s fine. I can go home. It’s better like this than in the morning when we have work and we avoid each other all day. Let’s sleep on this so tomorrow we can forget it.’ I say.

‘I don’t believe you want to do that. And I don’t either.’ He says and pulls out some kind of pasta from the fridge.

‘We will worry when the shoot is over. Until then you are welcome to come over to fuck my brains out again, or just to watch a reality show or something.’ He says and he divides the pasta into two portions.

I feel like he is genuinely meaning what he is saying. I sit up and he comes and gives me one of the plates.

‘Love Island?’ He asks.

‘The UK one?’ I ask.

‘Well, of course, babes.’ He says in a British accent.

He puts his arm around me and we eat our pasta and watch Love Island till we both fall asleep, me in his arms.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas #nicholas chavez fanfic #nicholas chavez smut #grotesquerie #fanfic

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ladysherreeamore · 7 days ago

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The Jakolas making up a ship like it's ever going to be a real thing is like waiting for Kanthony to happen when it'll never happen in real life

Why are you shipping gay men with women

it's weird!

Do you hate Luke so much you rather Nic end up with a gay boy who won't even look at her?

We've seen so many pictures and videos of Jake with Nic by now and we should see attraction in his face and body language but we still haven't seen anything more than what i've done with my friends. I have a lot of male friends and sometimes I spend time with 1 more than the others going places, wearing their clothes, giving a hug, talking to them, and many women hold hands with their male friends. Show me something more than what Nic hasn't done with Dylan Llewellyn and her other friends. Yoy say they are dating by seeing them go places together and a general birthday post but she's never said that. Real fans remember her saying not to believe gossip magazines, so why are you believing what they say? She's said she hasn't been in love since she was 9 years old, which may be an exaggeration but it sounds like it's been a very long time even though she lived with a man for 2 years. If she didn't love that man and we've never heard her say she's in love with Jake, then what makes you think she's in love? Why would she get a ring about someone she just met? I don't understand your logic at all so help me understand. She goes places with her friend but don't you go places with your friends? Would you support your friends if they had something big happen in their life? Do you go to their birthday parties? I don't know about yiu but I dkn't know a straight guy that goes to so many gay events and likes a post of naked guys on a nude beach.

Do you know that his friends call him "Twink" which is a gay term?

If he was straight then why would he let his friends call him twink?

What part of this screams relationship goals to you? Do you know she's friends with a lot of people in the LQBTQ community? Name someone besides Luke who isn't gay and that would be a shorter list, if it even exists. I haven't seen Jake hangout with any straight men either and that would be weird if he were straight, but he's NOT! Do you want to see her end up heartbroken when he leaves her for a man? We don't see any attraction so why are you shipping them?

Show me the difference between what we've seen between Nic and Jake vs. Rachel and Kurt

#jakola #not romantic #hes just not that into you #just friends #pr relationships #lukola

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hwallazia · 7 months ago

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SKIN – 정윤호

⋆ synopsis. yunho soothes you after your boyfriend breaks up with you.

pairing. bsf! jeong yunho & fem! reader

taglist. @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

wc. 2,4k

warnings. angst + comfort, cursing, slight degradation (yn is called a “bitch” by her boyfriend), lots of tears, yn’s got a boyfriend whose name is never mentioned, yn in here has dark hair (sorry for my light-haired babes, it’s just for the plot), sabrina carpenter sad songs (yes, that goes as a warning), physical and psychological insecurities, cutest pet names (princess, baby, love, yun & more), body worshipping, just softie bsf yuyu showing all his love to reader ><

nic’s notes ⋆ this fic has a piece of my heart, i put all my poet ass in it lmao. ofc it’s inspired in “skin” by sabrina carpenter (song rec alert !!). enjoy, dearsss <3

“come to my place. now” was what you had told yunho when you called him. and no more words nor explanations were needed for him to rush into your studio apartment’s door.

a soft knock reverberated across the gloomy room while you were too busy rotting on your sofa, a feather pillow was pressed against your pale face by your hands as they grasped the fluffy material. you groaned before forcing your body up, your stocking feet idly searching for your black and white slippers. tired body shuffling its way to your door.

you swung your door open revealing your best friend’s figure, enveloped in an oversized hoodie, hands busy holding a basket full of your favorite sweets and scented candles. you also could take a peek at some teabags, also of your preferences. “bought some things on my way here. you sounded a bit off so i thought these could make you feel better.” he muttered as he analyzed your state, smudged mascara on your cheeks catching his attention.

your boyfriend of two years had called you to ask you if you were free tonight. as excitement rushed through your veins, you accepted frantically; you hadn’t seen him in so long since he was on some sort of business trip, you didn’t know. he didn’t clarify what it was for and you didn’t even bother asking, limiting yourself to only wish him the best and tell him how much you love him and to be safe. your small studio apartment felt so small and empty without his joyful presence, yunho having to fill the void. but finally, finally, the two weeks; fourteen days; 336 hours, and fifty minutes passed, though they did at the pace of a turtle.

you tracked the flight of the airplane he was in as the two-weeks-accumulated anxiety was overflowing you. when your screen informed you that he’d arrive in only ten minutes, you changed your clothes, did your makeup as fast as lightning, and drove, ignoring a few traffic signs, to the airport. and you waited, and waited, and waited. he never showed up.

with all the people that passed you by while you lingered in that airport, you tried to convince yourself that maybe he was there or that his flight was delayed. the most nonsensical excuses were formed in your head. you were quick to grab your phone, slide your finger across your screen, and type anxiously against it, your eyes moving from side to side, up and down, looking for his contact.

to love: “where are u”

to love: “have u arrived yet?”

no response. your feet were starting to feel your weight too much, feeling sore as the minutes passed. a teardrop threatened to roll off your cheekbone but you resisted, holding onto a miserable bit of hope. and then it started raining, the heavy drops hammering the walls made of glass of the airport and you heaved a sigh. a part of you refusing to accept that he wasn’t there and that you had to rot in a cold, lonely bed again for god knows how much time. your index finger was firmly placed on the on and off button of your phone, checking your screen every five seconds, envisioning the relieving sound of a “ding” indicating that he had finally replied to you. sadly, it didn’t.

although, he had taken the time to answer to your desperate messages four days later, you were still excited to meet your lover again, after being apart for such a long time. you were supposed to have a pretty dinner date at his place, or at least that’s how you interpreted his words. actually he had said “we need to catch up! come to my place by 6”, but you still dolled up as if you were modeling on the fucking red carpet. and you regretted it so much.

a few sips of the sparkling champagne were enough for you to start confessing how much you had missed him and everything you had done in his absence. your crystallized bubble crumbled down so fast, though. only five words, five damn words were necessary for your eyes to start welling up with precious teardrops.

“we need to break up.” he had said. emotionless. as if he was giving you the fucking hour.

“what. why?” your eyes peered down his soul as you tried to retain a few tears that already demanded their release. you processed his words and spoke, “and what do you mean by need?”

your scattered voice didn’t hurt him. not at all. “i’ve been hiding something from you for… too much time.” you gasped. your ears tickling in anticipation. “sorry, but i’m in love with… someone else.”

the glass of champagne that rested on your hand on the edge of the table slipped off it and met the floor, the crystal and liquor spread all over it, messing its neatness up. tears started to flow down your heated cheekbones, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “how long?”

your simple question received a simpler answer. “eight months.”

your throat ran dry but you still managed to speak back through gritted teeth. “eight months. was i not enough for you? were those eight months happier for you?”

he stood up, now both of you speaking face-to-face. frown brows decorated his expression. “why bother telling you?”

“answer me!” you demanded, your voice and heart naturally breaking with each passing second near him.

“fine. those were the best months of my life. she’s the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen, her soul is just as bright as her blonde hair. she treats me like a king, yn. and what have i gotten with you? nothing but just shitty nights, crying myself to sleep because of our never-ending fights.” he breathed before continuing, “don’t you understand that you’re nothing compared to her?”

he deadpanned and you couldn’t bring yourself to hold eye contact. your knuckles turned clearer as you tightened your fist. “fuck you.”

you didn’t think twice before standing up and making your way out of that unforgettable apartment, not daring to look back; you managed to hear a faint “you asked, bitch!”. once you walked out of the building and entered your car, you fell apart. mascara stains all over your face and smudged lipstick around your mouth. the tight grip you maintained on the steering wheel was alternative in function of not breaking your fist by punching a concrete wall. you turned up the radio, desperately looking for a song that’d cheer you up. but “opposite” by sabrina carpenter started playing.

you drove home with the singer’s soothing voice and melody in the background as the lyric was blabbered by your broken self, hitting naturally differently. at this point, your face was a mess, unlocking a new feature of you. before arriving home, you thought of yunho. yes, he’d definitely be the solution —or distraction— of all this disarray. so you typed “yuyu” on the contacts’ search bar, rapidly hitting the call button.

and he picked up so fast, promising you to be at your place in 10. and here he was, wrapping your core with his large arms in a warm, much-needed hug. you allowed the rest of the teardrops that hadn’t fallen to do so, a patch of wetness on yunho’s hoodie.

“do you wanna talk about it?” his soothing voice comforting you. he waited patiently for you to recompose and be able to formulate non-blabbered sentences.

“it’s him, yun.” your words were muffled by his cloth, yet still audible for yunho to comprehend. “he cheated on me.” you lifted your face up his chest, teary-eyed. “for eight fucking months.”

genuinely, yunho never liked your boyfriend. there was just something about him that triggered yunho, so he rejected him from the very first start. still, he didn’t say anything about his repudiation towards your boyfriend since he was a witness of how much you adored him. the little girl grin your lips would form every time you talked about him was so cute. a facet of him wished that smile to be caused only because of him though. he’d tell you how he felt about your boyfriend, but not now. not when he has you breaking down on his arms.

“come on, princess. let’s lie on the couch.” he mumbled as he scooped you in his arms, holding you soundly. idly, you enveloped your arms around his toned neck and hid your messed-up face in the crook of his neck. due to his height and the small space of your apartment, five steps were enough for him to lay your core all along the fluffy, light-colored couch, your ankles hanging off of its armrest. he sat next to your head and you lifted it a bit, indicating him to put his legs under your nape to use his thighs as a pillow.

he trailed his hand up and down your untied hair, alleviating your pain away. “what did he tell you, hm?”

you exhaled deeply, remembering his harsh words, your irises being covered by a watered shield for the nth time that night. yunho’s thumb rushing up your eyes and brush them away. “nonono, baby.” he whispered tenderly, swelling your heart up even more. a moment of silence was given to you by him. “take a deep breath for me.”

your chest rose and fell as you followed yunho’s instructions, your teary eyes locked with his, full of sweetness and affection. his thumb still working on the constant waterfall that kept flowing down your cheeks. you kept your breathing pace calm and collected, a proud, beaming smile adorning his face. “that’s it, sweetheart. just like that” he kept quiet for a moment before speaking again. “whenever you feel ready, just vent with me.”

five minutes passed and yunho didn’t seem bothered because of it. hell, he’d give you all the existing time for you to get over that jackass. he adored you way too much and thought that you were too beautiful to be crumbling down because of him. and he didn’t have to say it, his eyes spoke for him, perfectly reflecting his devotion to you.

your deep sigh pulled him out of his trance. and you finally started spilling out all your thoughts. “i asked him if i wasn’t enough for him and if he had spent those eight months with her happily. i don’t even know why i did that. i must be some sort of a masochist” you said causing yunho to let out a breathy chuckle. “he said that they were. and that she’s the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, with a soul as bright as her hair.” his words tattooed on your skull. your voice nearly broke. “and that i’m nothing compared to her.”

“and did you believe him?” he questioned. “do you?”

“i—“ you stammered, not knowing your response. your misery and self-love were tearing you down to pieces. “i don’t know, yun.”

“and you’re so wrong for that.” he stated and you tilted your head slightly in confusion. “honey. look at you” his hand flew down your thighs, caressing the upper part of them. “your legs, so smooth and strong. ready to take your beautiful soul to any corner of the world.” he continued his path up to your arms, stroking them. “your arms, so slimmed and powerful. they make you look like a little defenseless girl when in reality you can knock tons of people with just your fist.” you choked a chuckle, flattered because of his praise, which seemed to be never-ending since he kept on going, his long palm rubbing your covered abdomen. “your perfect sized-belly with the most hypnotizing curves known to man.” he dedicated a few seconds of his journey along your core to draw soft circles on your waist. and he moved on, reaching your neck. gentle fingers grazed its sides. “your neck, covered in the most perfect constellation of freckles.”

you giggled, your skin way too flushed since you were locked in a prison of praises. “okay, yun. we got your poin—“

he shushed you right away. “mm. i’m not done yet.” his right hand cupped one side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “your cheeks. so cute whenever you’re nervous or embarrassed. like right now.” he admired the view of your pinkish skin for a bit longer before locking his honey-dripping gaze with yours, now completely absent of tears. “and your eyes. your intoxicating, saturn-like eyes. the little beam that always shines in them reminds me of the stars, y’ know?” he confessed. “and don’t even get me started with your endearing, beautiful soul.”

the palm of your hand cradled his face, his head tilting against your touch as he covered it with his own. “yunho..”

your whisper tickled his heart. “yes, love?”

your heart ached for healing, its wounds crying out for solace. you firmly believed that yunho’s lips held the remedy you so desperately sought, a cure capable of mending the fractured pieces of your soul. you stood before him, every beat of your heart echoed with hope and longing. when yunho finally leaned in, his kiss was more than just a touch—it was a gentle balm that eased your pain, restoring a sense of wholeness you hadn’t felt in months. in that moment, you knew that the healing you had yearned for was not only possible but was unfolding before you, one tender kiss at a time.

as yunho’s lips lingered on yours, you felt a warmth spread through you, an escape from the lingering chill of your recent heartbreak. even though you knew in the back of your mind that you should give yourself time to heal, to focus on your own recovery and self-discovery, the desire to be close to yunho overpowered your rational thoughts. his kiss was a sanctuary from the storm of emotions, a fleeting moment of solace that you clung to desperately.

when he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours with a mix of concern and affection. you could see that he understood the uncertainty you were feeling, but he chose to respect your vulnerability. “you don’t have to rush anything,” he said softly, “i’m here for you. no matter what.”

you nodded, a mixture of gratitude and confusion in your eyes. “i know,” you whispered. “i just... needed this.”

yunho took your hand gently, his touch comforting and reassuring. “take all the time you need,” he said. “i’ll be right here.”

as you let the tender moment just end, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you. the healing process was far from over, but yunho’s presence gave you a glimmer of hope. you knew that it’d take time to rebuild and to understand what you truly needed, but for now, you allowed yourself to cherish the connection you shared with him. the road ahead was uncertain, but at least you weren’t walking it alone.

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #jeong yunho #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho angst #yunho fluff #yunho angst #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho fanfic #yunho imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 2 months ago

Note

Hey, I don't think anyone has asked you about Jane <3 Equius and I'm going crazy I want to know why (with sincere curiosity and thanks for answering in advance)

The primary reason is because 3/4 of the Alpha kids are introduced with "by the way, here's the dead troll you're supposed to date." Roxy goes on about how much she fucking LOVES wizards, and she writes a fanfic where she describes an evil arrogant despotic slytherin harry potter as incredibly hot, and she has a crush on an eccentric hipster prince... (and on Eridan's side, he's tried getting in red with a bubbly pink girl and a cat-themed rogue, and roxy is a bubbly pink cat-themed rogue...)

Jake is introduced with a small digression where he yammers about all the "cerulean babes" he's obsessed with, and in specific, neytiri from avatar, wishing he could've been the one to "overcome his paralysis on an alien adventure planet to become her boyfriend". Basically, he wishes he'd been in tavros's place while vriska was crushing on him. He's also immediately attracted to aranea, a dead ringer for vriska. vriska also pursued red with john and tavros, the former of which shares a lot of genetic similarities with jake, the latter of which is also a page and also shares a lot of personality similarities, and she also has a thing for nic cage, whose rugged adventury-ness (but also cringeness) echoes jake

jane is thus introduced with a wall of "cobalt beefcakes," with ron swanson being her ideal man. she's also constantly described as a "tightass" by her friends, correcting their grammar and being initially reluctant to swear, and catches a lot of 100%'s, not just from hal. equius's primary flushcrush was aradia, who was also a maid, and whom equius's attraction - as he describes - was primarily based on the fact that she was so dignified, if only she wasn't of such low caste - !

We also see with tiaratop!jane that at her worst, she's incredibly dominant and controlling, treating jake as an object and breeding stud. equius is a massive sub and he would be so down bad for this. she's technically the condy's heiress, so of incredibly high status; shes dignified in ways reminiscent of aradia; and to top it all off, she's domineering and bossy and has a part of her that wants a partner that can shut up and look pretty and do whatever she says.

this is all said with the MAJOR CAVEAT that none of these romances work without all the characters experiencing some pretty major character development - eridan as we last saw him is too volatile and dangerous for roxy, vriska as we last saw her is the same way, and i'm pretty sure jane would be fairly :/ about an equius as we last saw him. but an eridan who has his shit together and is actively crusading for the powers of good while still being an evil harry potter wizard would sweep roxy right off her feet; a vriska who's come to realize she doesn't need to be so switched on and dangerous all the time would get along well with jake, since her specific brand of "yeah 8itch let's go adventuring" meshes well with his; equius who's not a weird casteist anymore and has some prudence about his fetishes would basically be jane's ideal ron swanson? gruff, masculine, a cobalt beefcake, not really wanting to engage with everyone's dumb horseplay, except that he'd do anything jane tells him to do and she's into that tbh

like unfortunatelyyyyy i think they'd work well together & i think aradia would be so damn relieved about it

#jane crocker #homestuck #equius zahhak

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tripleglitchwriting · 3 months ago

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Kinesthesis 3

Jazz/Prowl/HumanReader first contact AU

Part 2

I am so sorry this took so long 😭 but I finally got something out! This was written over the course of multiple months so if it’s inconsistent that’s why. Over my impromptu hiatus I’ve grown as a writer and as a person so that will probably change the way this story goes, but not to worry! I still plan on carrying on with this fic.

Be aware that I may not remember things about that last two chapters before this because it’s been a while. If you find any mistakes, let me know!

Also, thank you to the anons that encouraged me to keep going! This one goes out to you.

So, now you have quite a few problems. Not only were the ‘robots’ alive, they were also obviously damaged and asking for your help. Your help. Of all people. You still didn’t know where they came from, if someone was piloting them, how they got here, what that blue liquid was, or why one of them only made weird metallic scratching sounds. That one in particular really freaked you out when it first started ‘speaking’. At the time, you immediately assumed there was a metal demon somewhere coming to eat you.

Instead of that, they were just giant robots asking for your help in the middle of asscrack nowhere. Very simple. Foolproof, even. Nothing wrong there.

“I’m… going to get to work.” You told the one apparently named ‘Prowl’. He didn’t make any sputtering noises at you this time, so you took that as your go-ahead.

He was huge. Well, you knew that, but it was still jarring. You had to literally climb him to get to his wounds. Delicately placing your rag to the injured spot on his neck, you could feel the pump of something akin to a heart under the metal. Now that was weird. Wait, maybe it was just a fuel pump of somesort. He couldn’t… it couldn't have an actual heartbeat, right? Robots don’t have heartbeats.

That isn’t possible.

After a bit of cleaning up blue liquid and trying not to cut yourself on shards of metal, a realization dawned on you. These guys were more complicated than you thought. Really, a robot shouldn’t have this much… everything. They shouldn’t have half of whatever parts are in them. What kind of coding was driving them anyway? What fuel did they even use? The blue stuff?

Oh, who are you kidding. They aren’t robots. They can’t be. They can’t just be robots. They fell from the sky, of course they can’t be robots! Your heart picked up its already erratic pace, yet even with shaky hands, your work took priority.

Soon after there wasn’t a hole in Prowl anymore. Not one on his neck, anyway. You counted that as a win. But seeing as there were way more lacerations, dents, and cuts all over both of them, you definitely had the rest of your work cut out for you.

Simple. Foolproof, even. Nothing wrong there.

—---------------------

Jazz, with his sight still mostly busted, anxiously awaited some sort of indicator that the person helping them was actually patching up Prowl. They seemed pretty stunned earlier. Scared. He had assumed they’d run away and get help. That would be a more reasonable reaction, right?

Obviously it was probably better that they didn’t, this was a completely new planet after all. They’d be scrap if it weren’t for this random person helping them out. This person that is native to this new planet. With… no knowledge of Cybertronian biology- oh scrap. This person had no idea what they were doing!

“W – it! Wa– a - i!” Staticy, barely understandable garble came out of his vocalizer. He heard a tiny peep out of the little guy and a kind of ‘hrmph’ from Prowl.

“What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?” They squeaked in a comically high-pitch tone. “I- I’m sorry, I- know mechanics but this is kind of different and I don’t want to hurt anybody I just-”

“Y- yo- u kno- me- c– nics?”

“Um, yeah, it’s what I do. For school.”

“S- – -ry f’r t--e frig–t, I’m j-st co– m– in’ to–my–sen s- s- ses, an’ rel-i’ed wher– we ar’... an’ I don’ kn- kn- kn- – -w… ca—n– ya- re- – -y fi- x us?”

“O- oh, n- now yo- -y questi- on it?” Prowl commented from the sidelines. Jazz deliberately ignored him.

“I mean, I can, I just need some time to figure everything out… i- it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“W- Wha-t’s’t sayi- in- ing?”

“A- askin’ i- if it- it- it- hu- – -ts.”

“O- of co- rs’ it h-urts!”

“Wait, what’s he saying?”

Jazz cringed for a moment, realizing just how taxing it’s going to be on him to keep translating. Of course, he decided to use it to his advantage. Why not have some fun in the face of certain death?

“H- he s’ys h’s t—ckl’sh.”

“Oh, um, okay. Does that mean you guys can’t feel pain? Like, can I go harder with this? I have some power tools I can use back in—” Okay. Bad plan.

“N- N- N-O we C- – -N Fe’L It!”

“Oh, um, can or can’t?”

“C- C- C- C- CAAIIIEEEZZZZzzzt!” His vocalizer gave off a pointedly unpleasant sound just before shorting out.

“Is that… should I know what that means?” Jazz took a second to reset his vocalizer.

“N- n- n- o… b- b’t w– fe’l pa’n… i–t h- – -rts…”

“Can feel pain, got it. Um, is your voice okay? I can try fixing it… if that’s a thing I can fix…?” As much as he appreciated the gesture, Jazz wasn’t ready for that kind of operation.

“N- n - o thn’ks.”

“Alright… I’m gonna keep going here then.”

It was then, nearly offline, cut off from most forms of communication, on a completely alien planet, that Jazz realized this might be a little bit too much to handle.

“Y- y- you—re an ‘di—ot.”

“M- ay��e… bu— ‘least I c’n t- t- ta-k to ou- fr’nd ‘ere.”

“It’s Wh—lja’k, o- of c-cou’se I d- di—-nnooowoowOWW!” Jazz heard a loud crash followed by a tiny scream.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, what did I do? I- I didn’t know, oh my god…”

“Wh—t? —at ‘appe— d?!”

“I- I’m sorry, I think I hit something, I’m so sorry!”

“Pr—ler? P—owl!?”

He got a groan in response. A groan and a new, distinct, clear sound.

“—bbzzzt —- bzzzt ——tobots! This is Optim— —ime. If yo- can hear thi-, heed my call. The Arc is inoperable. Most of you are scattered across an alien world. While I do not know where the Decepticons have landed, I can confirm they are on the planet with us. Do not lose hope here, my friends. For the fate of Cybertron and the remaining Autobots rests in your capable servos. Attached to this message are the coordinates to the Arc, I will be waiting for you there. Good luck—- bzzzt —— bzzzt—-!”

The three sat in silence. While he couldn’t see the hologram that was most likely coming from Prowl’s projector, he heard what the message contained. They were safe. Optimus was safe. And he once again had a goal to achieve.

“Wh- what the hell was that!?”

“Th’nk Pri—us…” Prowl whispered.

“It -as… a- a- f- fri—nd.”

“Oh, okay. What did your friend say?”

“Th— w- we ha— so—me-here t- be.” Jazz attempted to move his body, but was once again denied. “W- we n- n- ne—d to g—-!”

“Hey, woah woah woah! You are not well enough to get up yet! I haven’t even started patching you up!”

“Aau—augh! I- I- kn— Ratc— uh, I- I- I kno—“

“Settle down. I- I’ll be as fast as I can, alright?”

Jazz huffed in halfhearted agreement. Prowl, on the other hand…

—---------------------

He thought this was an incredible waste of their time. Oh, sure, he needed to be fixed, but he was doing just fine now and he did not need help from a mysterious stranger he couldn’t understand. How could he, Prowl of Petrex, need the help of a tiny little creature like this one? There was no such need. The only need he had was to get himself and Jazz functional again, report back to Optimus, and win the war.

He tried to get up. After about half a second of metal creaking, unconscious groaning, and a little squeak from his benefactor, his body gave out. His spark burned with a searing mixture of frustration and stress as he tried to clench a servo. But of course he couldn’t. Of course he was stuck. Injured, vulnerable, and useless. But still, Optimus needed him. Needed them. So he needed to get up!

“C- cal- m d- do— n Pr—‘er… ye’ sca- a- rin’ ‘em…” He could hear panicked chittering from somewhere on top of him. He had half a mind to shoo the thing away, but even if he could raise his servo, he knew this was his only hope. He would never admit that, obviously, but deep in his spark he knew.

He didn’t respond to Jazz. He didn’t need to. He just focused on the little twinge of pain somewhere atop his chassis and a wound being sealed. A familiar feeling. Not too familiar, not like this, but enough to be comforting.

He imagined the medbay in the Arc. That time when they defeated the enemy and no one had to die. They won, and everyone cheered and celebrated and did whatever people do to express joy during a war.

He was unconscious for cycles. Just because nobody died doesn’t mean nobody was hurt. And he was really, really hurt. But it didn’t matter, not even to him. Moments like that are rare, after all. When one could rejoice without mourning the loss of a friend. He’d only expected Ratchet or First Aid to stay with him during that time. Who wouldn’t want to celebrate the spoils of victory? No one is willing to give up a moment of solace like that. No one is stupid enough to pass up the opportunity for happiness. Except Jazz.

Jazz stayed with him the whole time. He stayed by his bedside, refusing to leave once the required surgery was over. He brought glasses of energon for both of them. To share.

Prowl didn’t wake up then. He missed the party and the congratulations and the relief. He missed Jazz telling him stories and about his day. He missed when the rest of the crew stopped by to check on him. When he did finally come out of stasis, Jazz wasn’t there. Not of his own volition, but because he passed out on the floor due to exhaustion. They both got a long lecture about taking care of themself from Ratchet when it was over.

And Jazz is there, now, still with him. Bleeding out and broken, but still there. And Prowl was powerless to help him. His HUD sang one final message in his head before it went suddenly silent, and he fell helplessly into the deep abyss of stasis.

#transformers g/t #transformers #g/t #tripleglitchwrites #jazzprowl #gn reader #transformers x reader #prowl x reader #jazz x reader

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endgamelukola · 3 months ago

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DAY 2:

I think the astrology of Luke and Nic says a lot of things about them as individuals and how they could potential interact with each other that is pretty fascinating.

My disclaimer here is that astrology is a fun personality test-type thing to me. I do not make major life decisions or hold heavy weight in it, but if I can explain why people are buttholes by learning that Mercury is in Retrograde YET AGAIN, bess believe I'mma do it. It really just provides a way to think about how we're influenced by where the world was at in the universe when we were born. And if you're rolling your eyes and saying 'omg, astrology is so dumb, people can't be lumped into categories that way' I would ask WHERE'S THE AQUARIUS IN YOUR CHART? lol I'm playin.

ANY WAY. I'm not an astrology guru of any means, so if you're looking for a LUKOLA ASTROLOGY CLASS, I recommend onesagesview on YouTube because that woman goes so deep into the weeds that even I haven't watched all of her analysis. What I think is worth knowing is the big three of each, because they give an estimate of how an individual operates within the world around them.

So from my limited knowledge, the big three of astrology are your RISING SIGN, your SUN SIGN, and your MOON SIGN. The most surface level people usually know is their sun sign. For example, if you haven't already clocked my sign, just know I'm born in August three days after Rory (i don't wanna talk about it, THE MEN ARE DIFFERENT OK). More about the big three though: the moon sign represents your inner world, the sun sign represents your core self, and the rising sign represents your outward persona and/or how others see you.

Nicola is a Taurus Moon (earth), Capricorn Sun (earth), and Aquarius Rising (air). So this confirms me a lot of what we already know about Nic, and gives more room for looking at other parts of her chart as well since it fits like a Cinderella shoe.

Nic is the first to admit she loves a good trailer nap, and combined with her response in a red flag interview of someone using a 3-in-1 for their shower, I'd say that Taurus moon shines bright. In my experience, Capricorns are genuine human beings who don't sugarcoat themselves for others. I've come across a few TikToks analyzing how women in society have been fed the message of not being "too much" and I'd say the Capricorn is the antithesis of this, but not in a loud or intentional way, if that makes sense? They're just who they are. And they really don't have time to be anyone else, and that shit is admirable in my book. So another point in the confirm column for how it aligns with Nic. She may be damn good at portraying other people, but best believe there's no mistaking who she is off camera for those closest to her. Finally, that Aquarius rising is that salt bae moment on top! Aquarians are concerned with everyone else, but again, not in a loud or intentional way. They're naturally dispositioned to look at the world and mine it for their causes. This is the humanitarian element we see, I think, where Nicola isn't afraid to stand firmly behind the causes she believes in, regardless of how others may view her.

Then mix that combination together, Taurus + Capricorn + Aquarius and you've got someone who is down for a good time at home (whether home is a place, a group of people, etc) and will not allow their peace to be disturbed. If their peace is disturbed? Expect to hear about how you crossed the line and how you won't be doing it again. (ex. normalize not filming people in public *kisses*)

So that's my yap about Nicola's big three! Nothing new here, folks, but I'll review Luke's tomorrow because I LIKE TO YAP.

Merry Lukola-mas!

#lukola #nicola coughlan #just some thoughts #my thoughts #thoughts and opinions

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caitchercatlady · 24 days ago

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Sleeping Over at Ramshackle w/Cater

If there’s anything that Cater loves more than MagiCam, it’s being able to use social media for school projects. The professor assigns students to incorporate how astrology can relate to the daily lives of people? Cater will cut this like a slice of freshly made cake.

Cater wants to hold a sleepover with his fellow third years, but not everyone is keen on the idea. It’s a shame. But then, Cater gets a new idea.

“Prefecty!” he cheers when you pick up his call. “Listen, I’m a bit of a bind. I got this assignment for Astrology class, and I need a place to hang to get it done. You’re not busy this weekend, are you?”

As far as you know, you’re not. Also, what’s the harm in having Cater over, especially if it’s for classwork? You permit him to stay.

“OMG! You’re the best, bestie! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

Whatever that means.

The evening comes just as fast as Cater’s assignment arrangement. Speaking of Cater, he’s not a moment late when he arrives on Ramshackle’s doorsteps. You’re astonished at the amount of things he’s brought with him from his own room at Heartslabyul. Not only that, but his selfie stick is in recording mode for his phone, charger attached, too.

“Hey, boo! Let’s get this party started! Oh, don’t worry. This is not a livestream. That ruins the whole point of the project.”

“Which is what exactly?” you question.

“So Trein wants us to relate the night sky to our everyday activities. What better way to do that than to have a party involving the night? True, it’s a little early for stars, but what’s the point of waiting for the fun to happen, right, Prefect?”

“I guess so.”

“And unlike my dorm’s Unbirthday Parties, we got some of my faves to munch on.” Cater plops the cooler onto the Ramshackle kitchen counter.

“Oh, I already got some--”

“Don’t worry. We’ll add those, too. You wanna help me make some buffalo wings?”

Grim’s ears perk at “buffalo wings,” and you’ll live to regret not saying yes to Cater’s offer as far as the little cat beast is concerned. Granted, the wings have been bought frozen from the Foothill Town market, but at least your oven can hold them all enough for the party of three. As the wings cook, it’s sour and sweet smell fills the air space of the dorm. It makes Grim melt into the floorboards. Half an hour later, the wings are fully cooked, drizzled with sauce by you and Cater, and ready to eat. You two bring out the other snacks, and it becomes a banquet.

“See, besties? There’s nothing better than a sleepover pici-nic!” Cater says to the phone camera. Thankfully, for you, Cater’s not entirely wrapped up in the screen. He sticks the selfie stick in the cushions, facing it towards you and him. He smirks as he holds up a wing to your mouth. “Nom, nom, Prefecty. Have a bite.”

Your cheeks flush. “Do I have to?”

“If Prefect doesn’t wanna, I will!” cheers Grim. “I’m always up for food.”

Cater’s face drops. “Sorry, Grim, but I need a cute face for this one.”

“What? How dare you call me not cute!”

“Come on, Prefect. One shot is all I need. I’m not asking for any fan service.”

You heavily sigh and give in. Cater holds up the wing to your lips, smirking. You take the bite out of the buffalo wing, but the ripping of the meat off the bone isn’t graceful. This only makes Cater laugh.

Click! goes the camera.

“And that’s how you know when a wing is at peak deliciousness,” he says, winking at his phone. He takes another screenshot.

You feel lightheaded knowing that this footage is going to be used in his assignment somehow. Even Grim is snickering. You knock the little monster’s head into the pudding.

After filling their stomachs with tastiness, the sun is setting in the horizon. Cater indicates that it’s time to finally dress up for the occasion, so they can have more fun, comfort style. You come out of your room in your baggy Ramshackle supplied pajamas and walk down the stairs to find Cater not there. Doesn’t he want to do more sleepover stuff? What is he doing and where is he?

You call for Cater back upstairs. He doesn’t respond. The guest room door is open. You peek in to only find it empty. Yes, Cater’s belongings are scattered about, but he’s not there. You notice that the washroom door is open with steam coming out of it. Are you really going to check if he’s in there? What if he’s still dressing?

You approach the room and lean against the wall on the outside. You can hear him talking, and you know for sure it’s to no one except the camera. “Cater?” you call out.

He stops talking to himself. “Hey, Prefect! Do you need something?”

“I was wondering if you were dressed yet.”

“Oh yeah! Sorry about that. You can come in! I’m decent.”

You peek through the doorway, and there Cater is, standing in front of the mirror in the most multi-shade of brown pajamas you’ve ever seen. You admit to yourself that this is the last kind of nightwear you expected from influence-obsessed Cay Cay. “Don’t tell me you went live in my washroom.”

“Of course not,” he replies. “Sorry, Prefecty. I was taking some selfies in here for the assignment. Then, I turned the video back on when I started drying my hair. I forgot how much time passed.”

You suppose that’s a relief.

“Well, now that my hair is dry, let’s go look at the stars together.”

Oh, that’s right. He’s supposed to relate his lessons to this event he decided to throw. Cater takes you by the hand and pulls you to the guest room, where the curtains are apart enough to see the cloudless sky. “Yas! The stars are out!” He switches the camera from selfie view to the opposite as the lens catches the white dots in the sky. “Yeah, partying is fun and all, but there’s nothing better than chilling with your besties in the quiet. See, all of the bright lights up there are all friends, and they love shining in place, bringing peace to the world. That’s all they need to do. We should take inspiration from them and remember the quiet moments, too.”

“Do you believe that, Cater?”

“Aw, you’re trying to make me cry, aren’t you, bestie? Of course, I do.”

The quiet swirls around you both like fireflies on a summer evening. Cater whispers out his constellation knowledge, pointing to every little light in the night sky. The round of ASMR starts out with you nodding and saying the words “cool” and “amazing.” A minute goes by, and it has you going, “Mmhmm.” A few more minutes go by, and your eyes can barely stay open. Cater’s voice is so soothing that you end up falling onto his shoulder for support. You forget that this is slightly caught on camera, but will you even care anyway? What’s Cater gonna do? Embarrass you in front of his third year class?

He does find this “too adorbs” to ignore, and a few selfies are caught of this. However, he respects you enough to put you under the covers of the guest bed to have you rest. When Cater is ready to hit the hay, he takes the other half, above the sheets. He whispers to the video his project conclusion, puts all of his equipment to the side, and he joins you in dreamland. He’s sure that this is an A+ in the hole, not only for grades, but perhaps in human connection, too.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #anime #twst wonderland #cater diamond #sleepover series #pajamas series #birthday card #twst cater #cater twst #cater twisted wonderland #cater x reader

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casquecest · 4 days ago

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I have been in Japan for four hours so far, and I absolutely love it.

Leaning in on wearing the provided yukata before heading down to dinner earlier =)

#I'm staying at a ryokan in Narita before heading in to Tokyo tomorrow #and it's just been a great way to ease into the trip #Nic goes places!#This is my face #The ryokan has one of those fancy toilets and oooooooh baby was my ass pampered lmao #I'll give all those buttons a whirl before I leave tomorrow lol

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unofficialsapphire · 6 months ago

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CRAZY IN LOVE

KURAPIKA X READER X FEITAN

Disclaimer: Photo not mine. Reference of Photo Above

"Faster, Faster" You pushed yourself to go over your limit as you try to find where could possibly the chain user and the spider number two would duel.

Your heart beating fast as you try to pushed aside the worst case scenario, the thought of one of them getting hurt or worst dying is a nightmare.

You and Kurapika became friends when you and him joined the hunter exam and met him there. Through him, you heard about the Phantom troupe and how they massacre the Kurta Clan just for their Scarlet Eyes. They were cruel! Inhumane is understatement.

You could understand where his hatred is coming from and how you couldn't stop him going on his own so you and friends are always left worried whenever he goes MIA as you knew he's out there trying to hunt them down.

Out of your curiosity, you hunted some spider down, just to spy on them, observe what they were up to, what were they weaknesses but it all backfire when you fell for a certain member of Phantom Troupe, the number two. You tried to supressed it, you really did, you kept reminding yourself for what they have done but all your logic was gone. Feitan had already captured your heart and you're falling for him fast and hard

So when you arrived to the scene, it was your worst nightmare. Both of them were beat up, clothes are torn up, all bloody and messy but Kurapika has his chain already tied to Feitan.

"No" You gasped. "FEITAN" You blurted out in horror, heart is pounding, ears are ringing. You captured their attention, looking up to where you are standing, hair is all over, you look quite a mess from running all over the place trying to find them, but to them, you still look pretty in their eyes.

Kurapika: Y/n?! What are you doing out here?!

Kurapika look at you in shock, You weren't supposed to be here.

He cut contact so he could at least protect y'all from getting involved with his own battle, the possibly of you getting hurt crossed his mind. No, he wouldn't allow that so he cut contact from you and the rest of the gang. So why are you here?

He tighten the chain around Feitan, making sure he wouldn't be able to escape and take you as his hostage which resulted to Feitan coughing up blood and you start panicking panicking.

Feitan, on the other hand didn't want to you to see him in this state. You always see him as strong, unbreakable, never losing to a battle and yet he got tied by a chain user, he was unable to use his nen to break free.

"Y/n! Go! Not your fight" Feitan managed to spit those words out, his eyebrows knitted together as he struggle to breathe out.

"NO!" You were hysterical. You look at Kurapika with pleading eyes, "Please let Feitan go"

Kurapika stood still, looking between you two. He couldn't believe it.

"You two know each other?" He already knew the answer but he still wanted to hear from you.

You nodded, tears welled up in your eyes "please let him go" you begged him. This wasn't you, if this is few years ago, you would have flat out laughing if someone told you that you'd fall inlove with a spider, number two in fact and begged to save them.

Kurapika couldn't believe you would ask him to do such a thing, out of all people that he trusted, he thought you'd understand his hatred to Phantom Troupes, but now, you're here asking him to let a Spider go that he took a while to hunt down as if you forgot what they did for a living.

"He's a Spider Y/n!" He spat out, looking at you as if you lost it.

"No No" you shook your head "He's actually nic---" you try to bargain but Kurapika cut you off, eyes glowing into Scarlet Red.

"Nice?" Kurapika laughed sarcastically. "Did you forget what do they do for a living?! Did you forget what they did to us? They killed the Kurta Clan just for our eyes! OUR EYES! That's not anything near nice!" He harshly pulled the chain making Feitan to wobble slightly.

Despite Kurapika having an upper hand, Feitan expression remained strong, something you hold on that he can survive this.

Feitan is after all the Phantom Troupe's interrogator, proficient in art of torture. So you know this gonna be a child play for him but you couldn't help but interfere.

"Y/n, Go!" Feitan ordered you but being the stubborn you are, you shook your head.

"I'll stay! No, I can't leave you alone here" you rebutted, determined to leave the place with Feitan being safe with no regrets.

"Y/n!" Feitan voiced was laced with venom, he's not fucking around, he didn't want you involving yourself and getting hurt in the process, specially for him.

You stand on your ground "I love you okay!" you blurted out.

Feitan and Kurapika's eyes widen at your confession, You looked away from Feitan's gaze, turning to face Kurapika.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Kurapika angrily spat out.

Three hearts beating fast.

Your heart is pounding as you finally get that off your chest. Something you tried to suppressed and deny but it's time to admit, now or never.

One heart doesn't understand what's he's feeling at the moment but he feels mad for dragging herself to protect him, no she shouldn't be risking herself for someone like him, he's not weak! he's a spider!

The other heart is breaking. He was so angry and yet broken as the girl that he cares deeply, the one who thought to be right besides him, the one whom he trusted, just fell in love with the one who's very involved in wiping his clan off.

He felt betrayed

You stare at Kurapika, slowly activating your nen, ready for action.

"Kurapika, You're maybe you're right. I'm out of my mind, crazy in love" Kurapika felt weak, feeling his knees buckled.

When you arrived, he thought you were there for him but no, you weren't here to be his side, You didn't come here to back him up. No, You were here for Feitan, not him.

-----

Okay.. Who would have thought I be writing a HxH Fic?!!!

#kurapika x reader #kurapika kurta #hunter x hunt #hunter x hunter fanfic #hunter x hunter #kurapika x you #kurapika x y/n #kurapika hxh #feitan #feitan x reader #feitan x you #feitan x y/n #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader

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sluts4matt · 8 months ago

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PARTY

pairing: soft!dom matt x mixed!reader

summary: after a long week, you intended on staying home and relaxing. your roommate; however, had different plans dragging you to a close friend's party.

warnings: SMUT, use of weed, nic, and alcohol, p in v, teasing, light choking, pet names (princess), orgasm denial, praising, slight embarrassment kink? (i think)

word count: 3074

authors note: i feel like this is kind of all over the place, i apologize, i haven't written in like a good month or two. not proofread or edited.

it had been a long day, work not going so greatly. that's why as soon as you walked through your apartment door you had greeted your roommate then went to your bedroom, pulling out a pre roll from your nightstand drawer.

you sighed, laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, lighting the end, then inhaling deeply. the smoke left your lips, your eyes blinking a few times. you jumped at the quiet knock on your bedroom door, coughing slightly.

"it's open," you say. the door opened revealing your roommate naya, her red curls up in a messy pony tail. "bad day at work?" she asked, joining you on your bed.

you passed the joint over to her, which she accepted with a smile bringing it to her lips. "some chick ordered a triple shot expresso with caramel and white chocolate syrup, had me put caramel drizzle on top right?" you start and she nods.

"i repeat her order, she looks at the screen she's goes, yep looks good. then i go to give her the drink and she goes-" you take a breath before talking in a slightly snobby tone, "-'this isn't what i ordered, i need this remade right now' i looked at like, are you fucking serious right now?"

naya started laughing, passing the joint back. "so did you remake her drink?" she asks, "yeah, after arguing with her for ten minutes." you both laugh. "god, i hate being a barista sometimes," you state.

"wanna go to austin's party to take your mind off of work?" she asks. "i dunno, nay. i'm not in the mood to deal with drunks and people trying to make a move on me." you say. "then just stay next to aria the whole time, guys don't really approach her. come on please," she gave you puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out as she clasped her hands together.

"when was the last time you went to a party?" she asks, you think for a moment. "um, the one josh threw at the frat house that you brought me to." naya giggles, grabbing your hand, "sweety... i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this, that was almost six months ago." you snatch your hand away, giving her an annoyed look.

"that's a lie, we were at a party for channing's birthday two months ago." you defend, "birthday party's don't count, neither do family reunions or get togethers," she points out.

"oh god fine," you sigh. naya squeals, wrapping her arms around your waist. "oh my god thank you!" she says excitedly, "okay go, we gotta get ready," you say, shooing her away. she sticks her tongue out, getting up and walking out.

you stand up, going to your closet to pick your outfit out. once you find your clothes you put on your shower cap and hop in the shower, washing your body. after you're finished you wrap a towel around your body, going back to your room to get dressed.

you slip on the outfit, pairing it with a pair of black thigh high socks and some black mary janes. you take a comb through your hair, getting out most of the knots. naya knocks on your door as you go to apply your eyeliner, "come in."

she opens the door, she had put on a pink crop top and high waisted jeans, she had her hair down and her curls were bouncy. she was holding her black boots, "i'm stealing some of your eyeliner, can't find mine and lord knows you have enough."

"okay," you mumble, consentraiting. she walks up, opening the drawer and grabbing one of the many felt tip liners you had. she sat on the floor, looking into her phone camera, as she applied the eyeliner.

you grab a pink lip liner from your drawer, lining your lips before putting some lipgloss over them. you smack your lips together, to coat the two evenly, smiling at yourself when you were done. you pulled the look together with a pair of hooped earrings, grabbing your silver side bag.

"let's go!" naya says excitedly, grabbing your hand and leading you out the door.

the two of you hopped into the uber that she had scheduled while the two of you were getting ready. the car ride was filled with naya talking about the cute boy who works at the grocery store near the apartment.

"like, i didn't realize how much i liked green eyes until i saw his, they're like emeralds, really they are," she swoons, you chuckle, shaking your head.

"we're here," the uber driver states. you open the car door, walking in. "the party's here," she states loudly, gaining the attention of austin talking to a group of three boys who all looked relatively the same.

he looked over, smiling widely, waving his hand in a motion to come over. "omg, i'm glad you guys' could make it," he says, sporting a glittery sheer top and sparkly silver eyeshadow.

"i'm not sure how long we're staying, we're just stopping by for a little bit," you say, austin gives you a fake pout. "no fun, excuse us," he states to the three boys dragging you and naya to the open bar.

"lets take shots," he says, naya eagerly nodding her head as he grabs a tray with glittery shots on it. "i'm good," you say. "no, sweetheart, we're doing shots," he says, pushing one towards you.

"fine," you mutter, picking the shot glass up. "on the count of three," he says, "one, two, three," the three of you all bring the shot glass to your lips, downing the shot. the liquid burned as it went down your throat. you shook your head slightly, "rookie," naya giggled.

"i'm gonna go find aria, don't die," you say, "have fun!" austin and naya shout after you. you weave through the crowd, looking for a head of pink and black striped hair. you bumped into someone, stumbling slightly, "sorry," he mumbles as you look up.

it was one of the guys austin had been talking to when you and naya first got there. you smiled slightly, "all good, it was my fault anyways, wasn't paying attention," you state.

"matt," he says, sticking his hand out, you smile slightly, taking his hand, "y/n," you state, shaking his hand. "are you looking for someone?" he asks. "uh yeah, aria?" you ask, he looks at you slightly confused, tilting his head slightly. "shorter then me, black and pink hair," you describe, "tattoos, like, everywhere except her neck and face?" you ask.

"oh! she's over there talking to chris," he points to the back of the room. "thanks," you say, going the direction he pointed to. you pushed past people, finally finding the short girl.

"hi!" you shout, the two turn to look at you, "there you are," aria states. "who's this?" chris asks, "my wife," she states loudly, he chuckles but looks slightly confused. "you wouldn't get it," she explains.

"you okay?" she asks, "yeah, fine, just need to take the edge off, i guess," you sigh. she pulls out a pre rolled blunt, lighter and a vape. "i love you," you sigh, taking the strawberry kiwi vape from her acrylics.

she hands the lighter to chris, "light," he does as she asks, bringing the lighter to the blunt that was between her lip. she inhaled, holding it in for a moment, then blowing it out. she passed it to you, earning a smile from you.

"work fucking sucks, why'd you quit," you playfully whine, a pout on your lips as your bring the blunt your lips. "because i would have ended up hitting that bitch of a manager," she states. you exhale the smoke, handing it back to her.

"she's not that bad anymore," you state, "i call bullshit," aria says. the three of you stood, smoking as people pushed past. "i'm gonna go find matt," chris says, "okay," the two of you respond in unison, causing you and aria to break out into a fit of laughter.

"god, i can't believe it's been six months since i worked at that hell hole," she states. "yeah fuck you," you giggle. you remember the day you had met aria, you were both just starting at the local cafe, quickly bonding over the fact that you two were the newbies.

after working together for a couple of months, she had introduced you to austin. austin then introduced you to naya, who quickly became your roommate. the four of you had grown quite close, always spending time with each other.

"lets go dance," she squeals, dragging you towards the center. the two of you began swaying and jumping, the music blasting through the speakers. chris had joined soon after, dragging matt with him. you giggled at the brunette haired by slightly watching his attempt to move his hips to the beat.

"white boys got no rythum," aria states, her hips swaying. "no shit," chris says, moving his shoulders. "oh god," you and aria giggle, shaking your heads at their terrible attempts at dancing.

"like this," aria instructs, her hips moving as her hands run over her body. you do the same, letting the music take over your body. the two of you danced like no one was watching, not that you cared.

the music was blasting and the air was heavy, the room smelled like alcohol and sweat, but at this point you didn't care, you were having too much fun.

you jumped slightly when you felt a pair of hands being softly placed on your hips, "is this okay?" matt whispers, his breath fanning your shoulder blade. you nod, leaning back, placing your hand behind his head, playing with the strands. you felt his thumb slowly moving in circles, causing your heart to speed up.

when you look towards aria, you see her arms wrapped around chris as she giggles at something he had said. the two were in their own little world, the rest of the party seeming to disappear.

your hand raked through matt's hair softly as you moved your hips, feeling his grip tighten. you bite your lip, "so," you state, "how'd you get roped into this party?"

"nick and chris, glad i let them rope me in though," he mumbled. "why's that?" you ask, looking down slightly. "because then i would have missed this," his breath tickling your neck.

you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, your head slightly tilting involuntarily. his lips gently brushed against the crook of your neck, leaving feather like kisses. your breath hitches slightly, closing your eyes.

"come on," he says, pulling back taking your hand as he leads you out the front door to his car. "get in," he says, opening the passenger door. "what are we doing?" you ask, slightly out of breath.

"star gazing," he says, putting the car in reverse and backing out of austin's driveway before putting it in drive and driving it to one of the parks that wasn't visited very often. "actually?" you ask, slightly hoping he wasn't serious about star gazing.

"do you not want to?" he teases, parking the car. he looks over at you tilting his head, one of his hands still on the wheel. you raise an eyebrow at the boy you've known barely two hours, your arms crossing. "what?" he asks, his tone playful.

"you know what," you state. "no, i don't, maybe you should tell me," he says, a small smirk spreading across his face. your eyes narrowed, your thighs squeezing together.

"oh?," he states, his head cocking to the side. his hand finds its way to the side of his seat, sliding it back. "well what do you want to do then princess?" he asks, his arm going behind your seat, turning his body so that his body was facing yours.

your mouth gaped open slightly, not knowing how to respond to the sudden change in attitude. "come on, words," he chuckles, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

"i-," you pause, not knowing what you were about to say. "yes?" he questions, his arm resting on the back of the chair. "i um," you mutter, looking at him with big eyes. "kiss me," you whisper, biting your lip.

"good girl," he praises, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. he pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, causing butterflies to fill your stomach. his lips molded to yours perfectly, moving in sync.

his lips were soft and warm, your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue entrance. his hand moves down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around. his other hand moves to your hip, guiding you over the center console to his lap.

your hands run through his hair, tugging lightly, causing him to moan slightly. you feel him buck his hips slightly, pushing up into the thin fabric of your underwear. you gasp slightly, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in.

you feel him smirk slightly, his hand leaving your throat, traveling to each of your shoulders. his fingers slipping the thin straps down your shoulders. his lips leave yours, kissing down your neck, causing you to tilt your head slightly.

"so pretty," he mutters, his hands pushing the fabric down your chest. his head dips, his tongue swirling around your nipple. your breath hitches, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers threading through.

he groans slightly, his hips pushing up into you. "matt," you breathe, his teeth grazing your nipple. you feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tweaking your other nipple.

"fuck," you whine, tugging at his hair. "you want more?" he asks, his hand sliding up your leg to the bottom of your skirt. "yes, please," you whine. his hand slides up your skirt, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of your underwear.

his finger traces your clit, teasing you. your thighs shake slightly, causing him to chuckle, "desperate." you roll your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair. his hand wraps around your throat, the metal of his rings cold against your neck as he squeezes lightly.

"be nice," he whispers, his finger slowly circling your clit. "or what?" you challenge, his eyes narrow. his fingers speed up, a breathy moan leaving your lips. his fingers work you, making your eyes roll back.

"matt," you whine, pushing yourself down onto his fingers, "fuck," you whisper. his fingers continue working your clit, your breathing becoming uneven.

"you close?" he asks, his voice laced with lust. you nod quickly, your hips rolling. his fingers slow, stopping right before you reach your high. "no, no, please," you whine, your hips bucking.

"awe, does someone not like the consequences of their own actions?" the boy mocks, his hand still holding your throat. "no, please," you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"you think just because you give me the puppy dog eyes i'll give you what you want?" he chuckles, jokingly bouncing your body. you nod your head, a pout forming on your lips. "please," you whimper, your hips trying to push into his hand.

"begging, pretty," he smirks, his fingers starting to circle again. you whine, the coil in your stomach tightening. his fingers speed up, pushing you barely over the edge before stopping again.

"matt, no," you whine, his hand moving from your neck to your shoulder. he pushes you backwards, your back hitting the steering wheel. his hands go to the button on his pants, undoing it before unzipping them. he lifts his hips from the seat slightly, pushing them down to his knees.

his boxers were a light grey, a slight wet spot showing on the front. he palms himself through the fabric, moaning quietly. his other hand goes to your waist, moving your body so that you were directly over him. he pushes his boxers down, moving the fabric of your soaked panties to the side.

he pushes the tip in, moaning. you whine, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as he pulls your body down. "fuck," he curses, his head falling back. your hand grips the back of his seat, his length filling you.

you start to move your hips slowly, moaning softly. his fingers dig into your hips, helping guide your movements. his hips thrust upwards, meeting your slow pace.

"god, you're so pretty," he mumbles, his head tilting up to look at you. his thumb moves down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. your head tilts back, "fuck, i'm gonna cum." "not yet pretty girl," he says denying you, once again.

your hand moves to the top of the seat, the other gripping his shoulder as your hips begin to stutter. "matt, i can't," you whine. "hold on for me, your doing such a good job," he whispers, his hand leaving your hip, tangling itself in your hair.

"fuck, you feel so good," he moans, his hips picking up their pace, slamming up into you. the windows had fogged up, the air in the car humid. he brings your lips down to his, kissing you harshly. his tongue slips into your mouth, his teeth lightly pulling on your bottom lip.

"cum," he states, his thumb moving faster on your clit. the coil in your stomach snapped, causing you to let out a moan, pulling away from his lips as you buried your face in his neck. his hips slammed up into you a few more times before he pulled out, jacking himself off, his cum spilling on your thigh.

"fuck," he whispers, his chest rising and falling. "fuck," he repeats, reaching over to grab a napkin from the glove box. "shit," he mumbles, wiping the cum off of your thigh, throwing it in the backseat.

he lifts you up slightly, pulling his boxers and pants up. he grabs another napkin, cleaning in between your thighs, throwing it in the back.

"did you have fun?" he asks, looking up at you. you giggle, nodding, "yeah?" he asks. "do you want food?" he asks, your head tilting slightly. "what?" he asks, chuckling, "like, did you want to get food, or would you like me to take you home," he clarifies.

"i could go for a burger," you state. "burger king or five guys?" he asks, "five guys," you respond. he smiles, fixing the strap of your top before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

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e-vasong · 2 months ago

Note

36 for the prompt?

SOME BORGWIN FOR YOU, NIC!!! May not make sense if you haven't read my Star Trek AU for DBDA.

TW: Attempted suicide

36 - Total Control

….

On the fourth day, Edwin tries to kill himself.

If he were more resilient, if he were stronger, his assimilation would be nearly done. But he isn’t. His body takes poorly to the implants, and at this rate, the process could take weeks.

Edwin is the sort of inferior specimen that the Borg would otherwise cull. He knows that. But he also knows the precise location and relative distance of almost every populated planet in this system and the next, including several who have only made First Contact in the past few years. He’s the one who mapped them after all, and that is the sort of knowledge that makes him worth assimilating.

He waits for an opportunity to escape, at first. Then when one does not present itself, and when his condition begins to deteriorate, he waits to die. Except he doesn’t. He begins, very slowly, to get better. To become only more conscious as his limbs and organs are taken one by one. Some are replaced immediately, others left as open and empty wounds for now.

The Borg are with him always. They’re physically all around him, of course, some hanging limply from their wires like cadaverous marionettes and others jammed gracefully into the walls in perfectly compact tangles of limbs, dim-eyed and still in their stasis.

There is a terrible moment on the third day where they crack open his skull and reach inside. He feels nothing at first, then a strange, mushy sort of give and—

They’re inside him now. A colony of ants crawling through the folds of his brain, a second set of neurons that he can feel, marching in perfect lockstep to the beat of a silent drum.

And Edwin knows that he’s a bit of a coward. His family had expressed that very clearly when he shied away from a more glorious role in command, then again when he declined riskier field science roles so he could make star maps instead.

But he is not quite such a coward that he would let the Borg kill millions with the knowledge he possesses.

It should be simple, really, to unplug himself—he hasn’t fully taken to his artificial lungs yet, so they have him on a ventilator. One simple tug, and that will be it. He’ll suffocate, and it will no doubt be terrible beyond description.

A worthy trade, if it saves all those lives.

He has to stretch an arm across his body to reach the machine. The other has already been amputated — the port in place but the mechanical prosthetic not yet installed. It takes three halting tries for him to close his hand around the wire.

And then he goes no further. His fingers freeze, every muscle and nerve locked into place. Even his trembling stops.

The Borg’s awakening to his plans is quiet, mildly confused. In this moment, Edwin feels less like he’s been caught and more like a flyaway hair, noticed by chance then tucked neatly back into place.

THIS DOES NOT BENEFIT THE COLLECTIVE.

His hand uncurls.

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE, say a hundred hundred thousand minds as they brush up against his own, but the words are softer than Edwin remembers. Kinder. Countless glowing eyes peer from the walls, from the ceiling, all unblinking in the dark. YOU WILL GIVE UP TOTAL CONTROL TO THE COLLECTIVE. WE WILL ADD YOUR DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN, AND YOU WILL ADAPT TO SERVICE US.

And when his arm lays itself back down, he sees himself for the briefest moment as the Collective does. Prone. Disassembled. A mess of flesh and blood that may yet be salvaged. The watchers and the watched, reflected endlessly back upon each other.

The lights around him flicker out one by one. Stars and planets consumed, wiped off the map as the Borg turn their gaze once more outward, into endless darkness.

#my writing #dbda #dead boy detectives

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daechwitatamic · 1 year ago

Text

Of Ruin: Chapter 6 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: angst, hurt feelings, conflicts abound

wc: 6k

True to his word, Prince Taehyung shows up at your door about an hour after you and Namjoon clean up dinner.

After your self-pity-nap, you’d showered and come out fresh. You’d ordered hot tea and buckled down to work, starting to make your way through the thick texts you’d brought from the university, looking for counters that might be relevant to this case.

So, luckily, instead of a puffy-eyed, half-asleep wreck, the prince finds you clean, and caffeinated, and hard at work. Your image remains intact. Hooray for small victories, you think.

“I know your day hasn’t been ideal,” he says sheepishly, hands clasped behind his back. “Do you think a visit to Potato might make you feel better?”

Cute, you think.

“Potato?” Namjoon asks, baffled.

“His amarisca,” you explain. “I sort of fell in love yesterday.”

Your face heats as soon as you’ve said the words; you hope they both know that you mean with Potato, that it’s not a reference to your illogical, absurd, and frankly embarrassing crush on the beautiful, otherworldly prince. Luckily, it seems both men are oblivious to your near misstep.

“You’re welcome to come, too,” the prince offers, turning to Namjoon. “I was just going to walk to my private stables and give her - Potato - some treats. I thought…” he trails off, eyes on your face, like he’s gauging your reaction. “I thought maybe Y/N might benefit from the walk and the fresh air. But of course you’re welcome, too.”

Namjoon’s face goes funny, like he’s doing those puzzle pieces again. “Thank you,” he says slowly, looking at you, not the prince. “But I’ll stay here. I can finish up writing what we were discussing. I agree, the walk will do you good.”

You want to snap at both of them, you don’t know what’s good for me, but you know they don’t deserve it. And you do want to see the amarisca again.

“Let me get shoes,” you murmur, and head for your room. You return with sneakers in hand and in a thicker sweatshirt; the sun has been down for some time and you know the sea air will be chilly.

Prince Taehyung leads you the same way he had the previous night, both in cloaks that you hadn’t noticed him holding until he handed one to you. You clock that Sateul trails you at a respectable distance - close enough to see you, too far to hear you, if she was human. Probably, since she’s not, she can hear every word.

“This feels like a pity walk,” you admit a bit sourly.

Prince Taehyung gives you an indulgent smile. “I feel like you got hit twice today,” he says. “First, my mother frightens you, and then… it can’t have been easy to find out… what you did. That, combined with your little accident the other night… I honestly can’t believe you haven’t packed up to leave already.”

“I thought about it,” you say dryly. But the truth is, you want to work on the curse. You want to see more of the palace, of Infracticus. You want to spend more time with the prince.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he says quietly.

You wonder if it’s only because he needs you to break his curse. A foolish thought, one that has no place amidst everything else swirling around your head. But still, the thought persists.

Outside, the fresh air soothes you immediately, the temperature is just right, and you can hear the waves and the gulls in the distance. You do feel better, just walking silently side by side. The tension melts from your shoulders, tiny bits at a time.

“This is nice.”

“I’m not such terrible company after all?” he teases, a mischievous smile growing sideways across his face.

You scowl at him playfully. “It wasn’t about you. Today… really sucked. Sorry. But, I think I wanted to just retreat to my space and sulk for a while.”

He takes this in silently for a few strides and then offers, quietly, “I’m sorry again about my mother. I know my promises can’t mean much to you at this point, but her intentions weren’t to hurt you. She felt your magical signature - we all can - and was just curious. She wanted to know how strong it was. She’s… used to just taking what she wants, as I’m sure you can imagine. It didn’t occur to her that it might be frightening or unpleasant to you. I know that’s no excuse, but I hope you’ll forgive us.”

You listen seriously. You’ll forgive him, you think, if only because he is so damn earnest, and his skin looks pretty in the moonlight.

“Thank you,” you murmur, which isn’t an answer, but he lets it slide. Your magical signature. You hadn’t even known you’d had that. You still don’t know what exactly it means.

You walk together a little further, your footsteps joining the shrill gull calls.

Eventually, Taehyung’s stride slows, and he leans his elbows against the stone balustrade, looking wistfully up at the deep purple sky. The periwinkles and violets of the early afternoon have faded to a deep mottled purple, the color of a third-day bruise. You can see that you’re very close to the staircase he’d helped you down the previous night, the ones that lead down to the sand.

The stars literally take your breath away. Taehyung turns to you, grinning.

“Better than above, right?” he asks, pride evident in his tone.

“There are so many,” you whisper, eyes scanning the sky above you. It seems like every time you look away from a spot and then back to it, the number of stars doubles.

You stand side by side in silence, both leaning on the stone wall, eyes on the stars far above you. Finally, Prince Taehyung turns to look at you, frowning just slightly.

“May I ask you something?” he ventures. “I don’t want to upset you… but I’m curious.”

You smile a little wryly at the irony of this admission. You see the pattern from the Queen earlier to the prince now - admitting he may upset you, but entitled to the answer anyway. At least he has the decency to ask first.

“Go ahead,” you tell him. You’re feeling less on edge out here under the stars, with the cool breeze and ocean’s song. Whatever it is, you’ll face it.

“You really didn’t know?” There’s clear disbelief in his voice. Then, he clarifies, “About your magic.”

You shake your head, a stone skipping and sinking heavy in your stomach. “Had no idea,” you say with a sigh. “I really thought… I really thought I earned being good at breaking curses. I thought it was hard work, grit, that kind of thing.”

Understanding dawns on the prince’s face. “Ah,” he says, and then says nothing else.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Ah, what?”

He gives you a guilty smile. “I didn’t understand why you were upset. I imagined any human would be excited to learn that they were… more, that they had more.”

You eye him stonily. “Being human,” you say evenly, “is enough. It isn’t less.”

His eyes widen comically. “No,” he says quickly, waving his hands between you. “I didn’t mean that. It came out wrong. I just meant -”

“I know what you meant,” you mutter. “No, I wasn’t excited to learn that I’m… I don’t even know what to call myself now.”

He presses his lips together and regards you silently. Then, he says tentatively, “Your accomplishments are not erased by this, you know.”

You look sideways at him, listening.

“Having a natural magical ability doesn’t mean you didn’t work hard. Your magic is inherent in you the same way your strong will is, your natural intelligence. They are facets of what makes up who you are. How you wield these things - that’s how you earn your accomplishments. You should not discount it.”

“I guess,” you mutter, but secretly, you consider this. “It’s just going to take some getting used to, I think.”

The prince seems to sense that there’s nothing more to gain from pursuing this topic. He starts towards the steps, helping you down as he had the night before.

At the stable, he places a carrot in your outstretched hand, smiles wide when you let Potato eat it from your flat fingers, her lips tickling your palm. When you press your other hand gently to her snout, her fur soft and warm under your hand, it doesn’t feel like losing a dream, as you’d feared. It feels like stepping into it. Prince Taehyung watches you, eyes twinkling the whole time.

After, you stand at the fence that creates a paddock in the sea, meant to let Potato swim but not too far. The waves crash just feet from you, and you worry absently about your shoes.

Prince Taehyung leans his elbows on the fence next to you. “How was it going, before I interrupted? I could see that you were working.”

You shrug. “I feel like we’re near the end of what we can do with the information we have. Unless you let me observe you while the curse is working -”

He glowers. “I gave you my answer about that already,” he says tightly.

“- or unless I run some rituals with you… there’s not more to find. We’ve got all we can from the texts we brought, too.”

This makes him look at you, something sharp in his gaze. “Do you need to research more?” he asks, tone lightening, like he’s excited to help. “We have a dozen libraries in the palace - I never spend much time there, but I’m sure you’d find something helpful.”

This makes you smile a little. “I can’t imagine being alive for hundreds of years and not using it to read everything I could get my hands on.”

He laughs at this, nose wrinkling as he says defensively, “I have other interests!” As his chuckles die away again he adds, “Reading puts me to sleep. I never get past the first page.”

“What do you do instead?” you ask, genuinely curious.

His grin turns a bit self-deprecating. “Eat, drink, and make merry,” he jokes.

“Seriously!” you scold.

“I mostly am being serious,” he admits. “I socialize. I dance. I’m fond of music - I play many instruments. Sometimes I look at art, sometimes I try to make my own. I have duties as Prince, of course, but generally I find them interesting. I spend my time quite happily.” His expression turns a bit darker and he adds, “Or, I did. Until this.”

You look at him carefully for the first time since you’d first arrived. You’ve only known this version of him - tight-shouldered, a bit serious. You wonder if he was different before the curse - freer, lighter, happier. You imagine he must have been.

“We’ll fix it,” you promise, though you have no guarantee you’ll keep it. Going back to his original question, you add, “I’d like to see the libraries, if we could. A lot of curse-breaking is looking at precedents, seeing what’s worked before.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” he asks. “I don’t know much about the process, to be honest.”

You grimace. “I probably should have explained it to you better from the start. Like I said yesterday - my first step is to uncover each thread of intention in the original curse. Then when you’ve identified every thread, it’s kind of a game of finding the simplest, shortest amount of steps to counter them. Then, of course, actually casting it correctly can be challenging, too.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and after a bit of silence - broken only by the crash of waves - you reach out and gingerly rest your fingertips atop his forearm. Like yesterday, when he’d held your hand down the steps, you thrill at the touch.

“They called me for a reason,” you tell him seriously. “I’ve never failed. Sometimes it takes me a while, and sometimes I have to try more than once - but I’ve never not been able to work it out, eventually.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you watch his throat work as he keeps his eyes on the distant horizon.

“We’ll fix it,” you say again, more determination in your voice this time. “I’ll fix it. Okay?”

Eventually, he sighs and places his other hand on yours, covering it completely. “I have faith in you,” he says, something open in his voice. Like you’ve struggled through the underbrush in the woods and stumbled across a path, the way forward suddenly clear. “I trust you.”

You stay like that a bit longer, acutely aware of his hand on yours, until he sighs and withdraws it, casting a baleful look at the palace above and behind you. “It’s nearing midnight,” he says sadly. “I’d better get to where I belong.”

“Can someone walk me back to my quarters?” you ask, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know the way.”

He furrows his brow at you and reaches for your hand. “Someone?” he repeats, as if offended. “I’m walking you back.”

As if you should have known. As if there were any other option he’d accept.

You aren’t sure what’s happening here. You aren’t sure the purpose of it, the sense of it. But his wavy hair hangs over his browline, his deep eyes are on your face, and that hint of a smile flirts in the corner of his mouth as he waits for you. So you put your hand in his and let him lead you home.

—

In the morning, when Sateul comes to collect the dishes from breakfast, she informs you, “Prince Taehyung has asked me to accompany you to one of the private libraries today.”

You get ready quickly, though Satuel waits patiently outside your doors, at attention. The walk to the libraries is longer than the ones you’ve been accustomed to, and you notice you’re mostly headed up. In fact, the journey ends with a spiral staircase that almost gives you vertigo; you hold the wall gingerly as you take each step carefully.

This particular library must be at the top of a turret. The view from the windows, peeking between bookshelves, is so phenomenal that you almost forget about your research.

“I’ll be at the bottom of this staircase,” Satuel tells you. “Please call if you need something.”

“I need an ice bath,” you grumble, massaging your aching calves. Beside you, Namjoon shoots you a sympathetic smile.

You spend the whole day there, perusing the bookshelves, pulling out tomes that might prove useful. Satuel brings you lunch at midday, and shortly after the three of you trek halfway across the palace to the nearest bathroom, just to go right back up those same damn stairs when you’re done.

But it’s worth it; it takes all three of you to carry back the books you and Namjoon select, about an hour before dinner will be served.

When you drop the books gently onto the low table in your quarters, Satuel heads back to her post in the corridor, and you and Namjoon look down at your haul.

“Not bad,” you muse.

You settle in, picking up books at random and flipping through to find parts that might be relevant, scanning indexes. When dinner time rolls around, you both put in your order, stopping to eat when the food comes, and then getting right back to work.

Somehow, you aren’t surprised when the prince arrives at your doors, even though he hadn’t promised to come by, not like yesterday.

“I was going to ask if you made it to the libraries,” he says, smiling wryly, “but I can see that you have.”

You can’t help it - you beam. “I want to live up there.”

His smile turns into something playful. “That’s what you said about the seaside, too.”

You consider this. “I would like my seaside home to have a turret library,” you finally declare.

“I’ll work on it,” he teases. Behind you, Namjoon quietly closes the book he was looking through.

“Anyway,” Prince Taehyung says, clearing his throat a little. “Was it fruitful? Are they helpful?”

“I think so,” you say, looking at Namjoon for confirmation. “We’re working through the books we found, writing down the parts that are useful. It’ll take a while, though. We found a lot.”

“Good,” he says, nodding. “Good. I’m glad you’re making progress.”

You think of his silence by the ocean last night, how you’d felt the need to protect him, to reassure him.

“We are,” you say solidly.

He looks at you, tilts his head just slightly. “Can you afford to take a break? I was going to the stable. Namjoon, as always, you are more than welcome. You haven’t seen the amarisca up close, have you?”

“I haven’t,” Namjoon admits. “But I hate to say, I’m not as drawn to magical creatures as Y/N clearly is.”

You press your lips together, wondering if he’s including the prince in that list of magical creatures.

“I’d like to go,” you venture timidly.

You feel a little guilty - this isn’t part of the job, it’s adding nothing to your research, you’re leaving Namjoon behind and he’s looking at you with that knowing gleam in his eyes.

But when you get outside the palace and look at the stars and smell the ocean, and Prince Taehyung holds your hand tightly as you make your way down sea-worn, stone steps… it makes all the bad parts quieter. The fear, the uncertainty, the homesickness, the grief you’ve experienced over the last few days… they don’t seem to cut as deeply when his brown eyes find yours.

And as long as you don’t let yourself think too much about how pointless that is, how he’s crown prince of a land that’s not your home and you’re a nobody from a tiny university town… as long as you don’t think about that… the distraction is nice.

This time, when he leads you down the stairs, his hand feels familiar and right as it closes around yours.

You press a hand gently to the amarisca’s muscly, teal neck, stroking the soft fur there. Prince Taehyung puts his hand atop yours, guiding it down her neck and to the top again, his body pressed close behind yours. You look over your shoulder at him in wonder, and the smile he gives you seems tinged with a sadness that you don’t understand at all.

This time, on the way back, you stop and stare at the stars, and he leans close, close enough that your arms touch as you both look skyward.

This time, as he leads you back up the damp stairs towards the palace, you tug on his hand.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask. Something in you aches to know the truth. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I learned my lesson the first day.”

“I told you,” he says, brow furrowing, “I’m invested in your well-being. If you’re unhappy enough to leave, then I’ll never get better.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You wish you would believe him. The alternative is just sad - you’re not stupid enough to think a six hundred year old Infracti with a crown on his head would be interested in a nothing human.

Focus, you think. Focus on why you’re here.

When you return to your rooms, Namjoon looks half-asleep on the couch, the lights low.

“How was your field trip?” he asks, stretching and starting to rise. You realize he’d waited up for you. You’re not sure how you feel about this.

“I feel like I’m spinning in circles,” you admit. “Like I can’t remember what I’m really here for.”

“He’s charming,” Namjoon says carefully, pausing on his path to his bedroom.

You choose not to answer that. “We’ll get to work in the morning,” you say finally. “We’ll see what we can come up with, and we’ll work on getting home.”

You wait until Namjoon’s behind his bedroom door, and you bend down to rifle through the books you’d brought from the library until you find the one you’d hidden in with the others.

Beginner Spells and Magical Theory, something you’d never really studied. Something you’d never thought you needed. Something you hadn’t known was a part of you.

You take the book into your bedroom and sit on the edge of your bed holding it, but you don’t crack it open. Eventually, you slide it under your bed and head for the bathroom.

You’re not ready. Tonight is not the night.

Then, like a switch flipped, the prince stops coming to check on you. You don’t see Prince Taehyung - or any of the royal family - for the next two days. You and Namjoon stay in your rooms, books spread across the floor, papers on every surface. On the second day, Satuel takes you to the turret library, saying she has the prince’s permission to let you go there for a change of scenery. But he doesn’t come check in either night.

It’s the morning of the third day of solitude (well, solitude with Namjoon) when you roll dramatically over onto your back, the stone floor cool and solid beneath you, and bemoan to the wooden ceiling, “I think my brain is soup.”

“Soup sounds good,” Namjoon says from his spot about six feet away. Books are open in a full circle around him; he has no path out. It seems like an apt metaphor, you think.

“I’m going to be honest about something,” you say, eyes still on the ceiling.

“When are you ever not?” he quips, but pushes the book he was reading a few inches away and turns to look at you, ready for whatever you’re going to drop on him.

“I think we have everything we’re going to have at this point,” you say, and then struggle to sit up so you can see his reaction.

He frowns at you. “Why does that not sound the same as I think we’re ready?”

You sigh. “I don’t think we’re ready. I don’t think we have everything. But as far as asking the prince questions and researching what we have… I think this is it. We aren’t getting any further.”

Namjoon looks around the books nearest him, still frowning. “What do you suggest?”

You shrug, even though you do have a few ideas. “I think we should try with what we have,” you say. “I can usually get a read from the first attempt - I can tell if we’re on the right track, going in the right direction. I get a good feel for if we need to remove anything, and sometimes I can press for more.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want to try a counter-curse? Already? Do you think that’s safe?”

You tap your feet against the stone floor, thinking. “It’s not unsafe,” you say. “It just might not… seem very productive. But, to me, it’ll help. I just need everyone’s trust, I guess.”

He shakes his head. “I trust you… I’m not so sure about the King and Queen. You can’t just cast on the crown prince willy-nilly and hope something comes of it.”

“Willy-nilly,” you repeat with a scoff. “Very academic of you.”

He tosses a pen at you and you let it clatter to the floor after it bounces off your kneecap.

“It’s not willy-nilly,” you defend. “The benefits outweigh the risks, Namjoon. I need some direction, and the magic will point me. What are we going to do otherwise, keep spinning our wheels down here while life carries on without us back home?”

He frowns more deeply, but drops your gaze. Finally he asks, “How confident are you that it won’t hurt him? Or, worse, put you out of commission? You know I can’t do this by myself.”

You ignore this last part. “I’m very confident that at worst one or both of us will need to rest for a day or two. Nothing worse than that.”

You stare at each other in silence, both doing calculations in your heads - risks, benefits, all of it.

“My grandfather put you in charge,” he says finally, and you know a victory when you see one. “If you think that’s the best step, I’ll support you.”

Hours later, after you’ve picked up all the books from the floor, after you’ve compiled all the paper you’d scribbled on and made just one cohesive list of counter-threads, after you’ve showered and changed into something presentable, you stand in a mostly empty room of the palace.

The King and Queen are seated. Namjoon stands just behind your left shoulder, ready to help if things go very wrong. Prince Taehyung stands across from you, looking drawn and nervous.

He can’t be more nervous than you are, you think. Under the King and Queen’s gazes, you feel like a spectacle.

“I would like to reiterate,” you say, holding up a finger, “that I very much do not expect this to actually break the curse today. However, it should cause no serious harm to try, and I expect that when we are done I’ll know if we’ve miscalculated anything, and a direction on what might still be missing.”

“No serious harm,” Prince Taehyung mutters, and you can’t help but smile across at him.

“You’ll be okay,” you promise. “It just might not be… pleasant.”

He grimaces, but remains quiet this time.

You glance at the paper on the small podium to your right, recounting the steps, mouthing the incantations to yourself as if you’re rehearsing.

“Okay,” you say finally, holding up a palm for the prince. “I’m ready when you are.”

He seems to need to collect himself, then presses his palm up to yours and waits, anxious eyes on your face, pretty mouth turned down into a frown.

You begin reciting the opening incantations, the ones that call up your magic - the magic you used to think you pulled from the world around you, that you’re now learning comes from deep within you.

You know when it works, you always do; the feeling is electrifying, thrilling, a euphoria you’ve never felt from anything else. Magic running through your veins like blood makes you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you could before you’d started practicing counter-curses. Now, the electricity runs stronger, as if the magic is magnified by the Infracti touching you.

It occurs to you that this might be exactly the case.

You move onto the next counter-threads, speaking slowly and clearly as you try to untangle the pain, the confusion, the suppression of self that Prince Taehyung experiences each night.

You concentrate on the incantation, but you close your eyes and let yourself feel - little flickering flame-fingers of magic reaching out and tentatively poking at the mess of magic inside the prince, trying to locate each single thread, ready to tug each one and - ideally - unravel the whole ball.

You know it’s doing something when he flinches, then carefully presses his palm more firmly against yours, like he’s afraid he’s broken the connection.

The tendrils of your magic report back - you can feel where each thread of your countercurse connects to a thread of the curse, ready to pull them out. You can feel just how much is left unconnected.

There’s so much there that your magic hasn’t touched.

The magic sings to you: not enough, it’s not enough, it isn’t enough, it’s not -

The connection breaks as Prince Taehyung’s eyes flash to fathomless black and there’s a split second where you’re afraid you did the opposite of what you intended, called forth the beast. But then his knees buckle and he starts to drop.

The Queen shouts and stands, but your reflexes are fast, too. You have the prince by the elbows and you sink to the ground with him, gently. You feel rather than see Namjoon move closer, ready to help.

By the time you’ve lowered you both to your knees, still clutching his elbows and using all of your core strength to try and hold him upright, he’s back - blinking human-looking eyes at you, fingers twitching and then clutching your arms back.

“That,” he mumbles, “did not feel nice.”

“I know,” you whisper, just for him. “I’m sorry. It’s over now.”

Namjoon makes it to you first, having been standing the closest, and he helps both of you clamber unsteadily to your feet. The King and Queen approach, and you gingerly let go of the prince’s elbows, watching to make sure he’s staying on his feet.

“I suppose it didn’t work,” the King says drolly.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea where to go from here,” you say, and you do. But the prince is unsteady on his feet, fighting to keep his eyes open and alert. To him, you say, “It’s my professional opinion that you need to rest. You aren’t sleeping at night, and your body needs to recover from what happened here.”

“Then I expect an update tomorrow,” the Queen says coolly, and helps Prince Taehyung to the door, where he finally succeeds at waving her off and heads down the hallway, alone.

The King follows his wife to the door and they depart as well, without a look back, let alone a goodbye.

You turn to Namjoon, who is shaking his head at you. “That went well,” he says sarcastically.

“We’re missing threads,” you tell him, certain. “There’s a lot we haven’t uncovered yet. What we have is good - but there’s a lot more. I felt it.”

“So how do we figure that out?” he asks, voice a little rough with frustration.

You miss Dr. Kim. Namjoon has certainly held his own down here, but you and Dr. Kim had a partnership, mutual trust. His expertise outweighed yours - he would have at least had a suggestion at a time like this, not scorn.

“There’s a ritual I can try,” you say, thinking out loud. “If he’ll let me.”

“Considering you just tried to knock him out,” Namjoon says dryly, “I don’t think he’s going to be very agreeable.”

“I’m going to try to convince him anyway,” you say decisively. “And I think I should go by myself.”

“Of course you do,” Namjoon says easily, and your temper flares.

“Another person’s energy will affect the reading,” you snap. “I’ll get your energy instead of his. I don’t care what you think - I know this will work, so I’m going. I’ll see you later, at home.”

You leave abruptly, pissed off, not even registering that you’d called your little rooms home.

Dansoo and Satuel are thankfully just in the corridor, as always, and you request to be taken to the prince’s wing. Satuel brings you, walking in silence ahead of you. When you reach the prince’s doors, she waits with you while one of his personal guards slips inside to ask if he’ll see you.

You’re honestly surprised when she returns and invites you in.

You find Prince Taehyung on the same couches you’d sat on your first night here, after Jimin had brought you to these rooms.

“I knew you wouldn’t rest,” you say, and he turns to look at you. His face is unreadable, blank - even his humanlike eyes give nothing away.

“This is resting,” he says evenly.

You shake your head. “You should try and sleep.”

He turns away again, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “I can’t seem to,” he admits.

You frown, watching him carefully. “May I sit?” you ask. He holds out a hand towards the empty couch opposite him but doesn’t look at you.

You sit gingerly. “I’m sorry for what just happened,” you tell him seriously. “I know it was unpleasant.”

“It was,” he agrees, his voice tight and measured.

“What did it feel like?” you ask.

His shoulders tighten. “Like I could feel you poking around behind my ribs,” he says shortly. “And then it hurt.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you,” you murmur. You want to reach out and touch his arm, as you had a few nights ago next to the sea and under the stars, but something stops you. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my doing. The curse… protects itself, let’s say.”

This makes him turn to look at you. “The curse caused that,” he paraphrases, clearly unconvinced.

You nod. “I could feel my counter-threads connecting, and I could feel the threads we hadn’t made connection to yet,” you explain slowly. “But magic knows to protect itself. When I started trying to feel for those unconnected pieces of the curse, it - sort of kicked me out?”

He frowns. “Was it a waste of time, then?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, encouraged. “What we just did confirmed which threads we identified correctly, and that there are some more to uncover.”

He takes this in silently for a few minutes. Then, he asks, “And, can we uncover the rest?”

“That’s why I came,” you admit. “There’s a ritual I’ve done… its purpose is to identify what’s in there.”

He scowls. “Why didn’t we do that from the beginning?”

You purse your lips, then try to explain. “Rituals like this… are always inherently risky. It’s better to figure out what you can with logic and magical theory before resorting to this.”

“Risky,” he echoes flatly. “Is it going to hurt again?”

You grimace. “It hurt a lot, huh?”

His jaw juts, just a bit. “Enough that I’m not eager to experience it twice in one day,” he says, a bit of haughtiness coming into his voice. He’s his mother’s son, indeed.

“It won’t hurt you,” you say quietly. “But there does need to be a level of trust - of allowing my magic to poke around, as you put it.”

He doesn’t answer this. He seems to wobble where he sits. Then, he lifts his tired eyes to you. For a moment, he lets you see the exhaustion, the fear, the hopelessness. He looks desolate, nearly frail.

Then, something closer to anger slides onto his face, replacing the vulnerability you were sure you were seeing. “I haven’t slept in many days,” he says, not answering your question at all.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “You should try. You need to rest.”

He blinks heavily, shoulders sagging. When he opens his eyes to look at you again, they’re wet and black, no longer magicked to seem human. Something hard takes over his voice, and he asks, “Can you help me? Can you make me sleep, venefici?”

“Yes,” you whisper, rising. “I can at least try.”

He closes those black eyes again, leans sideways until he’s laying down, knees bent.

You place your hands on his elbow and close your own eyes, feeling the magic rise up to you. Small spells like this were not your area of study, but you think you can manage. You at least know what to do.

It takes no time at all - less than a minute. His breathing deepens, his fingers twitch once. He is so beautiful like this, it’s hard to look at him. You remove your hand carefully and step away.

Prince Taehyung just called you witch.

–

Namjoon is waiting for you when you return.

“How’d it go?” he asks, sounding like he means it, even though you’d sort of argued before you left.

“I told him about the ritual,” you say, sinking onto the couch and dropping your head into your hands, emotionally spent. “He’s considering it.”

He looks at you appraisingly. “You don’t sound very happy about it,” he observes.

You sigh. “He’s just… not feeling great, from earlier. It’s fine.”

You sit there for another minute, your eyes on the ground, while he watches you, as if he might get more information out of you if he just waits it out. Finally you mutter, “I’m gonna get ready for bed,” and you slink off to your private rooms.

It’s ironic. After using your magic to help the prince find sleep for the first time since his curse began, you lay awake, unable to help yourself at all.

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hi there! thanks for reading!

i'm going to take a week off of posting this series, so there will be no update on friday, january 8th. instead, chapter 7 will post on friday, january 19th. thanks for understanding!

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