#anyways im done ive been sitting here thinking about this shit for half an hour at least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oligbia · 3 years

Note

Hi hii~

Could you do a truth or dare (or 7 minutes in heaven) Eijiro Kirishima short story (maybe nsfw if possible heh), please? 🥺

Keep up the great work!! 💕

Of course you can darling! Im super excited to get any and all requests and im really excited to do this one! Thank you so much for your support, it means the absolute world to me. I haven't written a lot of smut with guys recently, ive been on more of a wlw thing, so im a little rusty hehe. . .

I honestly didn't do a lot of editing on this once it was done, I had it going like "all the way" then realized Kiri wouldn't do that on the first day- anyways it'll make sense. If you want more Kiri stuff I can totally give you more, just let me know :)

7 Minutes In Heaven

Pro Hero!Eijiro KirishimaXReader

NSFW, Minors do not interact

Warnings: Sexual behavior, giving and receiving oral, making out in a closet, mild swearing

A hero gala was an event like none other. It was a night were all Japan's hero's and their dotting staff would all assemble to accept awards and receive rankings. It was a night for citizens to see their favorite hero's dressed to the nines and hash out who was truly the best hero on social media.

And, for starter hero's, it's was night to get shit faced, since the likelyhood of them reciving any award was slim anyways.

Pro heroes Red Riot, Pinky, Cellophane, and Chargebolt where no exception to this. They were all still pretty low in the ranks of heroes, especially considering they were all fresh out of UA only a few years ago. The only two UA graduates to jump into the hero world right were no surprise Deku and Dynamite. Deku practically left UA the top hero, entering in at the 5th rank overall. Dynamite took a little work, he still wasn't a fan favorite, but his work was undeniable, he was easily starting in at rank 10.

The formerly-known bakusquad sat comfortably at the back of the gala room, all a little tipsy. They watched as Bakugou was being practically held on a child leash by Best Jeanist, forced to be on best behavior.

Denki watched the room quickly, his shifting glances moving quickly. His eyes landed on your figure somewhere across the way.

"Oh my god, is that Y/N? We haven't seen her since UA!" His voice wasn't at all hushed, people around the table glancing at him with slight disgust.

"Woah, that totally is!" Sero joined in on the ogling. "She's like, totally hot now!"

Kirishima looked your way, practically chocking on his champagne. He let out a few strangled coughs when his eyes landed on your form. The dress you were wearing was long and elegant, showing off your curves and hugging your waist. He was able to see your toned arms and watch as they elegantly moved as you spoke.

Mina poked Kiri's now flushed cheek. "You always had quite the hots for Y/N in UA, huh? And she wasn't even in our class."

Kirishima rolled his eyes. "I didn't 'have the hots for her.' I just thought she was...manly."

Denki and Sero puckered their faces, making kissing sounds, their drunken state throwing them back to a bunch of 14 year olds, rather than the 24 year olds they were now.

Kirishima waved them off, shaking his head. Mina abruptly stood up, waving you over. It was no time before you turned around, your gaze meeting her as you flashed your smile at her.

Kirishima swatted at Mina, trying to pull her back into her seat. "Mina, sit down, you're embarrassing us."

"Oh please, those two are embarrassing. I'm helping."

Kirishima watched as you moved your way to his table smiling softly. "It's great to see you all. I haven't seen you guys since we graduated."

Kirishima wanted to say something, but his tongue was sadly caught in his own mouth.

"Crazy, I know! I see you're doing well as a support gear engineer, that's exciting!" Mina made easy small talk, her foot kicking Kirishima's calf under the table. "You know, Kirishima here has been needing some new support gear!"

You smiled at Kiri, your own face going a little red. He was much older now. His jawline was more defined, his build larger. You couldn't tell from his suit how much stronger he was, but you could tell he was clearly built and taller. His hair had grown out a bit, it neatly tied back into a manbun.

"Oh? Does Fatgum not have someone who can make it for you?"

Kirishima smiled, laughing awkwardly. "He does, or, we do. They just, aren't as good at you."

"You haven't seen my work since UA, it's not l that improved. I still have a lot to learn before I'm good…"

Kirishima shook his head. "Don't say that, you were always super smart and made us amazing gear!" Kirishima blushed at his sudden enthusiasm.

Mina stood up, offering you her seat. "Y/N, would you mind staying here with Kiri for a moment, I think Denki and Sero needed to excuse themselves but are a little, ya'know." Mina made a drinking motion with her hand, elbowing Sero and Denki to follow her lead. The two had been snickering the entire time while simultaneously drooling over you.

The trio walked off, leaving you alone with Kirishima. Kirishima chuckled softly, lost for words again.

"So, how's the side-kick life?"

Kirishima looked up at you. "It's alright. Fatgum is an amazing hero. He's super manly! And working for him is great too! Especially when he feeds me during patrols!"

You smiled at him, that smile that drives him crazy. "Well, you're definitely in the favor of girls everywhere. Your girlfriend is probably thrilled to have such a stong-"

"I don't have a girlfriend!" Kirishima practically leaped from his seat to assure you that he was indeed single. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure. "I don't have a girlfriend. I am, completely single."

"Oh. I just figured someone as amazing and pretty as yourself would have a girlfriend." You looked down at your fingers, fidgeting with them as a soft blush spread across your face.

"You think I’m pretty?" Kirishima looks over at you, flashing you a small, toothy, grin.

"Is that weird?"

"Not at all! I think it's manly!"

You both laughed awkwardly. You both sit in silence for a moment, an incredibly awkward silence.

Kirishima spoke up first. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You shook your head no. Kirishima nodded. Muttering a “cool, cool” under his breath.

Shortly thereafter, much to Kirishima’s relief, Mina returned with Denki and Sero. She smiled at you, her gaze warm. “These two are a bit over the edge and about to make a fool of themselves. I think we should go to Kirishima’s place and continue this party there, yea?”

Kirishima groaned. “Why my place? You have your own house, Mina.”

“I know, but yours is so much bigger and it’s closer to the venue.” She winked at Kirishima and glanced at youquickly, dropping hints. Kirishima, a little confused, gave up any sort of bickering he had.

“Fine.” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling at you. “Did you want to come, Y/N?”

You nodded, thanking him for the invitation. Mina threw her hands up excitedly, grabbing Denki and Sero, pulling them out behind her. Kirishima stood up, offering you his arm. You rested your hands on it, allowing him to lead you out of the venue.

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

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Denki called out, laying sprawled out on Kirishima’s living room floor. Sero was laying near him, half asleep. Mina was cast over a chair, her legs dangling over one of the armrests. You were seated comfortably on Kirishima’s couch, wearing a pair of his sweats and hoodies. He had offered you the change of clothes when you came over with the group, wanting to keep you comfortable. To him, seeing you in his clothes was some fantasy of his. The way his clothes hung off your smaller body was adorable and was doing something to him he wasn’t sure he could explain.

Sero shoots Denki a look. “Isn’t that game for middle schoolers? People our age play, I don’t know, checkers?”

Mina perked up at the mention of the game. She was, of course, the matchmaker of the night, determined to land Kiri a girlfriend out of the girl he spent his entire high school experience crushing on, or, at least, give him a solid one-night stand if you both were willing. “Don’t be such a drag, Sero! It can be fun. We’re 24, not 64.”

Mina spun herself around in the chair, sitting cross legged and facing the group. She looked over at you and Kiri, who was sitting a considerable distance from each other on the couch. “What about it, you two. Are you both down?”

Kirishima shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of Mina and her antics.

“Why not?”

Kirishima’s face shot to face yours, his eyes wide in surprise. “I’m in too, I guess.”

Mina clapped her hands together. “Okie dokie, zappy, you get us started.”

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

After being a few hours into the game, Denki was officially dumbed out and Sero was asleep on the couch. Mina giggled, looking over at you. “Okay okay Y/N, truth or dare?”

You hummed, thinking. “Truth.”

Mina groaned. “C’mon, pick dare for once!”

You shook your head. “Please, last time I did, you had me eat a spoonful of that random shit Kirishima had in his fridge.”

Kirishima chuckled, “I swear to you, it’s Bakugou’s.”

Mina sighed. “Fine. Back in your UA days, was there ever someone you had a crush on?”

Your face grew red as a blush laid across your cheeks. “What?”

Mina teased you, “A crush! You got to build hero gear for all those classmates and see them in their trained glory. . .you had to have liked someone.”

“I mean, there was someone. But it’s long done, they wouldn’t have liked me anyway and we’re grown up now.”

Mina pouted. “C’mon, Y/N, that isn’t true. You’re so pretty, any guy would have liked you! Who was it?”

You inhaled a deep breath, looking at the ground, Kirishima and Mina’s eyes both peering daggers into you.

Denki, finally coming back to reality, slurred his words together. “It was definitely me, wasn’t it?”

You shook your head. “In your dreams.”

Denki pouted, but Kirishima let out a breath of relief. His chances of knowing you maybe had liked him back at one point was the right amount of reassurance he needed.

You looked at Mina. “If I tell you, you have to swear to me you’ll keep quiet.”

Mina motioned a zipper over her lips. “Sister’s honor.”

You lean over your end of the couch, pressing your face against Mina's ear. You cup your hands, whispering into her ear the name she was waiting for.

And like gears working in clockwork, Mina was working on the ultimate plan to get the two of you alone.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Kirishima, truth or dare?”

“Dare. Hit me with the best you got.” It was well into the early hours of the morning now, the hero gala long over. You still were at Kirishima’s house, playing truth or dare. You were sitting closer to Kirishima now, sharing a blanket over the two of you, legs brushing softly. His hand was constantly inches from yours, the idea of holding it constantly toying in the back of his mind.

“7 Minutes in Heaven with Y/N.”

Both of your jaws practically hit the floor, a deep crimson spreading over both of your cheeks. You looked away from Kirishima, trying to hide your fluster. He placed a gentle hand on your knee, speaking to you softly. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can take you home right now if you want.”

Thoughts spread through your mind, deciding what to do. You liked Kirishima, you had for years now. You did at UA when you worked to design his hero gear, and your affections never wore off, watching him do his job as a hero sidekick only fueling the admiration you had for him.

“I’m okay with it.”

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

The closet in Kirishima’s room smelled like fresh laundry, his calonge, and teen-turned-young-adult pheromones. It was dark, you were hardly able to make out the tall and well-built man in front of you, his muscles and long mane outlined softly. He went to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally bumping your smaller form. He rushed out a frantic apology, the blush growing on both of your faces.

“Hey, Y/N, who was it you liked at UA?”

You looked away from him, trying to hide your face. You mumbled softly to yourself some answer he wasn’t able to hear.

“What was that?”

You remained quiet, not budging. Kirishima gulped, swallowing the massive lump of pride that was making his mouth dry. “I guess a closet during a game of truth or dare is a pretty good time to tell you,” Kirishima fumbled over his words a little, grabbing for your free hand. “I always sort of liked you. I mean, I liked you when we were kids at UA. But then we graduated, but, I guess I never really stopped. I’m not sure how manly that is-”

“I like you too.”

“...but you probably like heroes like Midoriya or Bakugou- wait what?” Kirishima stopped his rambling, trying to find your eyes in the dark. He locked onto the faint glimmer of your eyes in the dark. He was always one to think that being manly meant taking a risk from time to time, and he was everything that was manly.

Kirishima pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The hand that wasn’t holding yours wandered to cup your face, holding it close to him. You gasped into the kiss, his sudden embrace taking you for a surprise. His lips were surprisingly soft, tasting faintly of cherries and champagne. The kiss was initially gentle, but, feeling your body press flesh against his, Kirishima dipped your head, deepening the kiss.

The hand that was grabbing yours found its way to your waist, tugging you closer to him. You sighed into the kiss, Kirishima’s breath warm against your skin. His tongue gently brushed across your bottom lip, his teeth accidentally grazing yours in his rushed attempt to draw you both even closer.

You pulled away first, looking up at Kirishima with half-lidded eyes, painting slightly. You licked your lips, taking in the remaining taste of his cherry taste. Kirishima let out a husky and shaky breath, still holding your waist. He blinked a few times, realization hitting him over what he had done.

"Oh my God, Y/N, I am so sorry, it isn't manly to not ask for consent first and-"

"Kirishima, it's okay. I agreed to come into this closet with you like we were kids or something."

Kirishima pulled you against him again, hovering his face against your ear. His voice was soft, growing husky with his hushed volume.

"Then, can I kiss you again?"

You nodded softly, anticipation growing.

"Perfect." Kirishima grabbed your face, smashing his lips into yours. Your hands traveled to hang off his neck, gently toying with his long locks. Kirishima gently moved his hand from your waist, letting it rest on your lower back as he pulled you even closer to him. His tongue licked your bottom lip, gently pulling it with his bottom lip. You mewled softly into the kiss, letting his tongue meet yours as it lapped up your mouth.

Needing air, Kirishima pulled off from your kiss, going to press kisses along your jawline and neck. He pressed fast and quick butterfly kisses to your neck, your hands tugging at his hair. He grunted, frustrated with the restraints of his hoodie you were wearing. You gently pushed him off, pulling his hoodie over your head, landing somewhere amongst his closet. Kirishima smiled at your now exposed top, your breasts filling out the bra you were wearing.

"You are absolutely stunning." He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "Can we keep going?"

You nodded, and Kirishima took no time going back to kissing your neck, this time leaving sloppy open kisses, his tongue leaving wet and sloppy marks along your skin. His teeth grazed at your skin ever so slightly, sending shivers up your spine. His teeth grazed over your sensitive spot as you moaned out involuntarily. Your hand quickly shot up to cover your mouth, aware of the fact that people were sitting in Kirishima's living room, possibly hearing you.

Kirishima pulled away, looking at you confused. He gently moved your hand from your mouth. "Why would you want to be quiet? You sounded so pretty?"

Kirishima, without hesitation, nipped at the sensitive part of your neck, desperate to hear you moan again. He kept nipping at your neck, sucking at the skin softly to sooth it. Your little mewls and moans nagging him on and on.

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

Kaminari looked up from his watch. "Mina it's been forever, go let them out."

Mina, pressed against the door, giggled as she returned back to Kaminari and Sero, who was now awake again.

"No way! Those two are totally going at it. I successfully am the new cupid boys!"

Sero groaned. "Are we going to stay here all night then? I don't want to hear that all night."

Mina shook her head. "No, we'll leave then be."

The trio showed themselves out, but not before Mina could slip a couple pain killers and condoms into your belongings on the way out.

******

Kirishima's hands dipped to your ass, lifting you up. He held you one handed, his strong arms and large hands being bigger than your small form. You pressed lazy kisses to his neck as he fumbled for the doorknob behind him, trying to open the door to his bedroom.

After you had kissed up and down his jaw and neck, leaving smears of lipstick from the hero gala, Kirishima was able to get the door open. He threw you gently onto the bed, crawling on top of you. If you hadn’t already realized how massive this man’s form was now, you definitely made the connection when he was looming over you. His chest heaved heavily, the muscles in his arms and under his shirt contracting and rippling. His hair was long, falling into his face.

“Kirishima, what if they’re still here…”

Through heavy breaths, he kissed on your neck again, using the same butterfly kisses as before. “Don’t care.”

You hummed at the pleasant feeling of his soft kisses on your skin and the light tickling of his hair grazing your cheeks. “We should check though… they may be worried.”

Kirishima pulled his head back, looking behind him at the door. “Mina?” He yelled out, waiting for a response. “Nothing. It’s just us baby. Are you okay with that?”

You nodded, giving him permission to keep going. His hands traveled up your waist and sides, landing next to your breasts. His locked his lips to yours, his tongue wasting no time dipping into your mouth. Kirishima moved his hands to gently cup your chest over your bra, squeezing softly. A small moan escaped through your mouth, your breasts becoming sensitive under his touch. Your hands traced over his chest and arms, fingertips taking their time to feel each of his muscles. They found themselves in his hair again, pulling at it gently as you raked your hands through it. A shallow moan left Kirishima's lips as he pulled away from you, gently tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away. He looked at you with lidded eyes, a hunger glistening over his face. He looked at you with that same charming smile he always had, pulling his shirt over his chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of him. He had definitely grown since he was in high school all those years ago. He was built like a greek god, his pecks large and his muscles toned. Your fingertips gently felt up his chest and abdomen, shivers traveling up Kirishima’s spine.

“You’re beautiful, Eijiro.”

“Eijiro? We’re that close already?”

You giggled. “I mean, by the way you grabbed my chest, I would think so.”

Kirishima shook his head, lowering his body back down to yours. He kept himself propped up on his arms, leaving soft kisses along your face and jaw before hovering over your ear. “Well, I would love to do more if you let me.” His teeth nipped at the bottom of your ear.

“Please.”

Kirishima’s hands fumbled with the back of your bra, unhooking it and pulling it off you. His hands held your tender breasts. He placed gentle kisses along your chest, fingers toying softly with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over the sensitive buds, pulling them ever so gently. Soft moans sounded from you, only pushing Kirishima further with his teasing.

He looked at you with a wink and a smirk, before placing a gentle kiss over one of your breasts, sucking on it gently. His tongue worked circles around your nipple, your body squirming slightly under his touch. He tugged at it gently with his teeth, pulling away and giving the other breast the same attention. Your hands pulled at his hair, a grunt sounding out over your breast when you found a sensitive spot on his head.

He pulled up, admiring your form under him. Your face was pink with blush, your hair falling in a mess over his face, your lipstick smudged around your lips. Small bruises were adorning your neck and chest, breasts slick with his spit.

“You are absolutely perfect, sweetheart. The best thing I have ever seen.”

Eijiro moved his hands around the sweatpants you had borrowed, pulling them off your legs. His hands grazed the side of your leg, following up from your ankle to you hips. “So, so beautiful.”

He placed gentle kisses along your inner thighs, gently massaging them with his hands. His face was ever so close to your clothed folds, the teasing leaving you a mess. Kirishima took you by surprise, biting down on your thighs. Your moan was louder than any had been so far, the pain being laced with pleasure. You would definitely be able to see his bite marks and a bruise in the morning.

“You like that, huh? You like when I mark you up, make you all mine?”

You nodded, eyes closing as Kirishima bit down on your other thigh as you moaned out in pleasure. He placed gentle kisses over the new bitemark, lapping at it gently with his tongue.

His fingers hooked over the band of your underwear. “Is it okay if I keep going, sweetheart? Only if you want me to.”

You nodded your head, trying to rub your thighs together to get any sort of friction to aid your growing needs.

“Let me hear you, baby. Can I keep going?”

“God, yes Eijiro, please keep going.”

Kirishima smiled and pulled off your underwear, throwing it aside somewhere. His thumb gently felt along your folds, grazing across your clit. “God, every inch of you is absolute perfection. You're so pretty, baby.

You mewled at his touch, your folds already wet in anticipation. Kirishima dragged his tongue across your folds, lapping gently, teasing you. He was practically purring against you, losing his mind. He had never, ever, thought the girl he liked the most would be so completely unraveled under him. He sucked against your clit, moans and strings of babbled phrases leaving your mouth.

“Stop teasing me, Eijiro. Please, give me more.”

He pulled away, blowing softly against you, the cold air sending you squirming again. “So greedy, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

He rolled your clit with the pad of his thumb, moving it in soft circles. Your waist bucked forward under his touch, a growing tension in your stomach. Kirishima gently placed two fingers in you, pumping them out gently. You moaned, the stretch of his large fingers was absolutely unraveling. He pumped them in and out slowly, wanting you to get adjusted the best you could. He watched as you clenched around his digits. His thrusts turned to a scissoring motion as he added a third finger. The new stretch was absolutely mind numbing. He pumped the three fingers in and out of you, barely grazing the spot that needed him most. You bucked forward to him, trying to lower yourself further onto your fingers. Kirishima watched with intention, thrusting his fingers in deeper and faster. He hit the spot you needed, the moan leaving your lips was sinful and the best thing he had ever heard.

“Right there, Eijiro. Please, right there.”

“Is that good, baby? Do you feel good?” Kirishima’s voice was low, a practical growl. You mewled, legs shaking.

“I, I think I’m close.”

"That's okay, you can come when you're ready. I want you to feel good."

Kirishima thrusted his fingers in and out of you, curling them against your g-spot. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, snapping as Kirishima rubbed against your clit. Your body shook as you came, moaning his name.

Kirishima pulled his fingers out gently, locking eyes with you as he licked your juices off his fingers, sucking them slowly and licking them clean. He licked a clean stripe against your folds, sucking any remaining juices from you. You mewled and moaned, sensitive to his touch.

"You taste so good, so perfect, Y/N." Kirishima's face was covered in your slick and sweat, your lipstick still smeared on his neck. His hair was a mess, tangled from where your hands had been tugging at it.

You sat up a little, "Can I take care of that?" You glanced down at the tent that was straining against his pants.

"Only if you want." Kirishima pulled you closer to him, sitting you on his lap at the end of the bed, moving you around with ease. His head rested against your ear, voice low. "I want you to feel good, sweetheart."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, sliding off his lap and sitting on your knees on the ground. You felt the fabriced bulge, watching as Kirishima shivered, eyes never leaving you. You slowly undid his belt, pulling his pants off him, letting them rest at his feet. His erection sprang through his boxers, precum peaking through. You licked a strip over, the fabric growing damp under your touch. Kirishima's grip tightened on the sheets of the bed. You palmed the length, trying to rub it, but it was honestly much to large for one hand to manage. Your mind was putty imagining how much he was packing.

You hooked the band of his boxers around your fingers, pulling them off his legs. Your eyes widened, gawking at the sight of him. He was, large, to say the least. You honestly weren't sure if you could manage him.

"Like what you see, baby?" Kirishima smirked down at you, eyebrows raised.

You nodded, rubbing a circle around his tip with your thumb. Kirishima let out a shaky breath, his composer slowly breaking.

You tried to stroke him up and down, your hand unable to fully wrap around his shaft. You pumped up and down gently, picking up speed slowly. Kirishima threw his head back, mumbling your name under his breath.

You took him into your mouth slowly, tounge swirling around his tip.

"Fuck, Y/N" Kirishima's voice was breathy and full of need.

You bobbed your head up and down his length slowly, trying to take in as much as you could. When you hollowed out your cheeks, taking in enough of him that you hit the back of your throat, Kiri let out one of the most sinful moans you had heard. He was one of the last people you would expect to be so vocal, but if you said it wasn't the hottest thing you've heard, you would be lying.

Kirishima grabbed onto a bunch of your hair, his hand massive against your hair. He pulled you gently up and down his length, guiding you through what felt good.

"Just like that, baby. Good girl."

You grew faster, stroking the lengths you couldn't reach with your mouth. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his grip on on your head tighter.

"I'm so close, Y/N. Fuck, you're so good. Take me like the pretty girl you are."

You stroked him faster, licking against him as he moved in and out of your face. You watched his face contort as he came in your mouth. You liked your lips, swallowing his load the best you could. You coughed a little, not anticipating so much. Kirishima panted, relieved. His eyes widened, realizing what happened. He looked at you, leftovers come sitting on your face.

"Oh my God, i'm so sorry. Hold on-"

Kirishima pulled a towel out of the closet, cleaning your face off.

"You don't have to apologize. I just hope I did okay?"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You were perfect. Thank you."

He helped you stand, holding your waist. "If it isn't too much too soon, we can shower and you can maybe sleep over?"

"I would like that, Eijiro."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader smut

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garrothromeave · 4 years

Text

the hell is mystreet season 6??

(warning, long post ahead)

ok so before i start this

1) ive never posted shiiiit on tumblr before so watch me suffer, im just here to talk about stuff that my friends who dont know anything about aphmau have to listen to me rant about for hours on end

2) i havent seen mystreet in like years (except season 3, i watch that frequently since im laurance and shadow knight deprived) so please bear with me because i might be completely wrong on this lol. it’s just like, pointing out things i remember

3) im sure someones already talked about this but who cares

4) im gonna do this stupid thing where i just explain myself a bit at first, if you dont want to read that just skip to the part where you see “the actual thingy:” in bold and italics

5) mild disclaimer; i am completely aware that jessica is not a professional writer. i know that she did her best to appeal to her fans, and honestly, respect for that. while this post will come off as aggressive and probably look like hate, that’s not my intention in the slightest. it’s just... intense criticism. im sure y’all probably already know that, but yeah, just stating that anyways. i do believe that jess is doing her best, and in no way do i want to dismiss any hard work she’s done. that being said; prepare for a very strongly opinionated post.

haha watch there be 10000+ typos in this making me look like a complete dumbass

ok here we go

one of the main reasons i stopped watching aphmau back in 2017 was the mess that was season 4. like, in the first few episodes of the emerald secret, i thought “woah!! this is kinda cool, im a sucker for mystery!” because of course i was, it was something new and something exciting. the only problem i had with it at the time was kim, but that’s just because i always found her annoying and out of place. i just didn’t understand why garroth dragged her along and honestly i still don’t to this day BUT, moving on.

anyways, as the season progressed, 13 year old me was of course just “:0!!” the entire time--that is, up until the reveal of the main villain. i remember watching the episode, seeing the reveal of ein, and then stopping. like, just for a quick break, but i was still just overwhelmingly disappointed. like, and this was the time when pdh was airing and ein just got made alpha (i think?) and i had really really liked eins character in pdh. either way, that really sucked and actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.

one of the main things bein’ the fact that this was supposed to be a slice of life kinda series that decided to take a turn to a more edgy kinda approach. which, i guess i regularly wouldnt mind? but seeing as mcd was kinda bein neglected at the time it just didnt sit right with me. BUT WHATEVER, point is i stopped watching mystreet all together at the end of season 4.

like, a whole year later my brother tells me that shit’s getting intense in season 5 + 6 of mystreet, and my brilliant self decided to give it a shot--but i refused to watch all of season 5, so i only stepped in when ein made an appearance. so whenever that was, that’s where i picked up because i didnt care enough to see

and y’know--i honestly didn’t hate it at first. in fact, i found it oddly cool. it wasn’t enough to get me into aphmau again, but it was enough to where i was intrigued. i dont know why, but i never watched the finale, so i didnt see the ending until just a few weeks ago--but back then, i thought it was neat. looking back on it however... im just so confused.

side note: only got back into aphmau this time around because of mcd. mainly because like, i adore the first season and the first half of the second season. and being nearly 18 now, im a lot more appreciative of plot and well-written characters n junk.

the actual thingy:

ok back on track. imma stop spilling out my story of how i got back into aphmau, and lets just skip to what rewatching mcd made me realize of season 6′s plot and shit:

-emmalyn. how the fuck does ghost even remotely exist? if she’s emmalyn as claimed, then why have we already seen emmalyn in the mystreet universe alive? look i get that creators can do whatever they want with their stories but at the same time please provide some sort of explanation good god. and maybe they did and i just havent seen it, so if there is one--let me know. but until that day imma just sit here confused as fuck

-ok so imma just be real, the whole ‘ultima’ thing is just... not great. in my opinion, anyways. like... i saw someone mention this in another post, but if this ultima stuff was like, a really big deal, why isnt it mentioned in mcd? though i suppose since its a curse of sorts, it could be later on past the time period in which mcd takes place--but even then, how did it manage to make its way into aaron’s family bloodline?

-WHY IS EVERYONE AT STARLIGHT ITS JUST SO CONVINIENT like what happened to this place being the most expensive shit on the planet or whatever, and how the gang happens to run into like, the werewolf trio and blaze and kai and guy and nate all of these people like god damn life doesnt WORK LIKE THAT

-im sorry but turning people into relics? thats... thats the best you could come up with? plus, like, how does that even work? in mcd it’s established that relics are separate entitles that choose their wielder, based on a ‘personal’ connection (being a descendent of a previous wielder) or if they’re a good match personality and (i think?) moral wise. so the whole turning-people-into-relics doesnt make much sense to be honest.

-irene really over here using her god powers to only keep her friends alive like god damn not a great god if you ask me

-can i talk about how incredibly predictable aphmaus death was? like i just kinda sat there waiting for it to happen and when it did i literally went “haha! wonder when she’ll be revived” because god forbid we actually kill off characters

-when aphmau + demon warlock fought in the irene dimension there was no passage of time whatsoever in the real world whiiiiiiiiich really bothers me because they fought in there for at least a few minutes

-speaking of aphmau and the demon warlocks fight does it bother anyone else that it had to be aaron who took over the fight?? like we get it hes the big protector blah blah blah but god damn it wouldve been cooler if aphmau had fought this battle as her. aaron fighting this battle was so underwhelming

-...love. like, thats the only thing thats needed to break out of a forever potion? love? LIKE YEAH, GOOD GUYS GOTTA WIN SOMEHOW, but its just so cliche and overdoneeee

-oh yeah and also when travis went bonkers and became the demon warlock or whatever, why’d he only take over katelyn and garroth?? like, zane had been influenced by the potions in the past as well? DONT GET ME WRONG--i do love some good brother edge, but uh, the demon warlock was just bein kinda a dumbass by not possessing zane too just sayin’

-can aaron please go to fucking jail for mass murder now like holy shit, he just got sent home on a fuckin boat. also why did blaze forgive him for killing him thats not even remotely realistic. then again, nothing in mystreet has ever been realistic when it comes to characters and motives and personalities, (cough katelyn being actually abusive and travis being an actual pervert) but yknow whatever

-katelyn and kawaii chan literally added nothing to the plot whatsoever. like lets be real, katelyn lost her personality the moment season 5 started and kawaii chan just kinda sits there :I

-ok im sorry this was bound to come up but cmon guys imagine laurances potential if he was in season 6 like god damn this is beyond maddening. AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY REALLY COOL PARRALLEL?? IF IT WAS LAURANCE WHO SNAPPED GARROTH OUT OF HIS MIND CONTROL THING, because it would mimic laurance’s speech to get garroth to snap out of his rage in season 1, episode 100 of minecraft diaries. like how fuckin rad would that have been? missed opportunity

-also?? why does kim/ghost know magicks?? like, if i remember correctly, emmalyn is a scholar--not someone who knew magicks. i mean, i guess research? study?? but its been established that knowing how magicks works =/= being able to use magicks. i dunno, just doesnt seem right i guess. maybe its explained, i wouldnt know (yes i know that makes me look like a dick leave me alone)

-melissa should have stayed dead. LIKE, NO, ITS NOT AS SIMPLE AS “haha it takes more than a few bullets to kill me”??? look ive got nothing wrong with melissa (cough lie cough) but yknow it would have just been cool a character... stay dead? for once? its just too fuckin cliche that shes alive god damn

-can i also just say the only good thing that came out of season 6 was travis’ dads sacrifice like damn that made me actually sad

-howww was lucinda turned into a relic. or yknow, anyone else? like im sure they explain it better in the actual show i just dont remember, but its just that easy? turning anyone into a relic? granted, a normal person wouldnt be able to produce a good relic, but idk man. IM JUST SAYING; that the only really powerful relics that aphmau should have been able to wield is the one that aaron + zane produced because shad relic and esmund relic moment. lucinda isnt even like, connected to a divine warrior. ALSO, another point, if its seriously that powerful of a relic getting one from just a magic user like lucinda, why go through the trouble? i mean i guess ofc youd want the “all powerful” one that the ultima produces but i mean damn whats the point

-ok this is just going to bother me but in one of the episodes (i think might have been in season 5 actually) where that like, guardian dude was chasing aphmau and zane and at one point they split up and the dude just chuckles at zane diverting paths and goes under his breath “youre not the important one here”, suggesting that aphmau somehow is? first of all, id argue that any ro’meave is significantly more important than aphmau was, especially not knowing much about her other than that shes with aaron. i might be missing some bits an pieces, but if i was that dude id forget about aphmau and go after zane

-killing off derek for shock factor sucked, and i know the moment was supposed to be really sad because like “oh :( aarons dad is sacrificing himself for his son” but lets be real dereks still was a shitty father and i dont think his reasons for doing what he did was very good at all

-less about plot or more like: why the absolute fuck did the gang bring kim along instead of, oh i dont know, a life-long friend? like, laurance or dante maybe?? im sure its explained, i never saw aphmaus year or most of season 5, but god DAMN id hate to be apart of this friend group AND GOD LIKE, imagine reconnecting with an old friend who ends up getting closer to your best friends and taking priority in their lives over you (cough laurance) like god damn lol

-im just going to preface this one with: i dont remember everything that’s happened, so if im wrong i apologize in advance--but (you actually can correct me if im wrong and please do) didnt like, irene reincarnate her friends in order to give them better lives? I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS TRUE, ITS JUST WHAT I REMEMBER--however, if im correct, then:

a. why the hell would she bring back someone like zane, or gene, or ivy, etc.

b. why the hell do they all have the same exact names? first and last? again, im aware that the whole mystreet+mcd tie wasn’t originally supposed to be there, but i dont think that means such a coincidence can be excused? its just a bit much if you ask me.

c. why the hell is the fact that (as much as i literally hate this) aaron is a decedent of shad being ignored? like, you’d think that something like this would be something thats actually important, or something the demon warlock couldve taken advantage of. or are we completely erasing every other connections to divine warriors besides aphmau + irene? because even if irene did reincarnate them or do whatever it is she did, does she even have the power to sever the connections between them and their ancestors? my guess is, no.

d. speaking of irene why on earth was aphmau able to talk to/see irene, they’re literally the same person are they not? did she like, fuckin reincarnate herself without actually doing it?? BUT--i will give it to them, the demon warlock did refer to aphmau as something along the lines of being “one of the 3 parts of her broken soul” or something like that. however, my point still remains. also what are the other two did i miss that or is it never explained

now; if irene in fact did not ‘reincarnate’ her friends then please ignore that little bit right there :)

but yes, those are a few of the problems i have with season 6 off the top of my head. i would go into like, season 4 and 5 more as well, but i honestly didnt feel like it. at some point i might go into other things, like how important laurance could have been to the plot of these later seasons, or HELL, even dante. i might also go into what could have made season 4, 5, and 6 actually good--maybe... a rewrite? perhaps? but im getting too far ahead of myself, so i just leave you with this for now.

and i know that as soon as i post this 15 more things are just going to pop into my head BUT im going to try and not edit this post because why stress myself with that even more

anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk

#in conclusion i hate it here #lets go back to mystreet bein slice of life pls #anyways tune in next week for 'the hell is pdh??'#aphmau #mcd #mystreet #minecraft diaries #please ignore these next tags im just promoting relentlessly #garroth ro'meave #zane ro'meave #aaron lycan #kawaii chan #kim mystreet #laurance zvhal #pls i have no idea how to tag posts #rant

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lassieposting · 3 years

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skulduggery/alt!serpine for the getting together ask game?

I’m bored, so. Send me two (or more) characters for a headcanon on how I’d have them get together

OHOHOHOHO SEE THIS IS A GOOD ONE BC

ive already been thinking about this and im. Lowkey really glad im not the only one

See I always hated skug with any serpine, like I was a passionate anti from 2007 - about three months ago but. I enjoyed their dynamic in phase one and then i read like three of their interactions from sow and got converted or some shit apparently idfk, anyway u know i love an angsty ship

this got really long so tldr; enemies to vitriolic hate-sex buddies to lovers, painfully slow burn, but they'll both die claiming they still hate each other

It begins with China.

She orders him to kill Serpine, and he refuses. He's not even 100% sure why when he does. It's not like they're friends. He's killed people he liked a good deal more than Nefarian Serpine under orders.

But she says, "kill him" and he says, "no", and then things spiral so quickly that it's actually a few days before he even has time to think about her parting shot, flung at him as he walked out on her: "if you want to keep him, you'll be the one looking after him. He's your responsibility, not mine. And if he hurts someone, you -"

He'd shut the door on her at that point, but he knows what she was going to say. You look after him yourself, you train him yourself, and if he hurts someone, you kill him yourself. A wonderfully old-world way of looking at things. He's fairly sure he remembers getting the same speech from the housekeeper when he tried to bring home the ugliest feral tomcat he'd ever seen as a small boy.

(This will come back to bite him. He's not sure how or when, but it will. That's the way of things, whenever he turns his back on China Sorrows. Her last parting shot - a classic "you'll regret this" - ended up getting him killed.)

But then there's Mevolent, and cleaning up a city in the aftermath of its latest Traumatic Event, and putting a size 10 to the backsides of the City Guard, so his priorities get reshuffled somewhat, and it's almost a week later that he thinks to ask, "Heard from Serpine lately? He's being oddly quiet."

Valkyrie blinks at him from the passenger seat. Her fingertips tap tap tap at the touchscreen. She's messaging someone. He doesn't know who. "He's...around."

"Why the pause?"

"Hm?"

"You paused," he points out, switching lanes to get around a hatchback dawdling along at 60. "He's...around. You're trying to hide something from me. I'm aware you still talk to him, you know."

She doesn't deny it. He's gotten used to that, in the last few years. She doesn't tell him things anymore. It's that distance, the distance he can try to banter over but never truly remove. She's a lot further away than his passenger seat. "He's been looking for somewhere to live, like. Now that he's here for good. So, you know. That's probably keeping him busy."

Nefarian Serpine is living out of a stuffy first-floor rented room above, of all things, Vaurien Scapegrace's pub.

He knows this not because China was having Serpine followed (although she was) or because plenty of old faces from the Sanctuary still owe him favours (although they do), but because he receives a text from Scapegrace at a quarter to midnight, in the middle of a grisly murder scene.

have u beaten anyone up lately? do u want to? think thrasher just rented one of our rooms to a war criminal

He taps out a response, half-focused on the screen and half on Valkyrie examining the photos on the dead man's mantelpiece. She looks like she's just figured something out.

Which one? Thrasher, or the other guy?

By the time he's dropped her home, said hello to the furball and returned to the city, morning is bleeding into the sky. He knocks sharply on Nefarian Serpine's peeling rented door, and then again when there's no response.

From inside, a thud.

Then another, followed by some deeply impolite language, and then the door jerks open. Serpine, wearing an impressive bedhead, a scraggly attempt at a beard and a pair of patterned socks with a hole in the toe, squints out into the hall and snaps, "D'you have ANY IDEA what time it is? This place is supposed to - ah, shite. It's you."

"It is," he agrees.

Serpine gives him a sulky jerk of the head - an invitation - and vanishes back inside. He follows, closing the door gently behind him. Inside the room is dark and depressing and smells faintly of mildew and sweat. There are clothes on the floor.

He pulls the curtains open and looks out the window, giving Serpine some privacy to get dressed.

"Found me at last, have you?" Serpine asks from over by the bed. There's a rustle of fabric and the sound of a belt being done up. "What do you want? Come to take my other hand?"

That's it. That's what's different. "Other? You don't seem to be missing any at present, Nefarian. Valkyrie's work, I take it."

Serpine sits down on the bed with a squeak of springs, and when Skulduggery turns to face him, he's smirking and, thankfully, wearing trousers. "Ever so nice of her, wasn't it? Doesn't work like the old one, though. You know. The one I used on you."

He sighs. "And here I thought this last week would've given you time to come up with some new material."

Serpine shrugs and spends a moment picking out a pair of shirts from the wardrobe beside the bed. If it's a test, it's a painfully obvious one. Almost an invitation. Go ahead, shoot me.

No, this is something Skulduggery knows far more intimately. A display of brittle confidence in the face of a threat. I'm not afraid of you. Do your worst.

Serpine is afraid of him. Afraid of being arrested, maybe, or killed, or worse. He'd have relished that fear, once. Delighted in flipping the tables.

He leans back against the desk, ankles crossed and arms folded. After a moment, Serpine turns around with a shirt on a hanger in each hand. He holds them up for an opinion.

Skulduggery points wordlessly at the green one, and the blue goes back in the closet. "If you're not here to kill me, what do you want?"

While Serpine is doing up his buttons, Skulduggery retrieves the folded sheaf of paper from the inside pocket of his long coat, and holds it up. "I came to drop these off."

Serpine's vibrant eyes narrow. "What is that? An arrest warrant?"

"A list of landlords in Roarhaven willing to rent to refugees. Valkyrie mentioned you were looking."

Serpine blinks at him. Skulduggery doesn't often bother with the facade in Roarhaven, but if he had a face right now, he'd be blinking back. It's a weirdly awkward moment.

"...thanks," Serpine says after a moment, tentatively reaching for the papers; Skulduggery leans forward to pass them over. "That'd be...helpful."

He sounds very uncomfortable saying those words. When Skulduggery responds, "You're welcome," he feels much the same.

Serpine unfolds the papers and skims them. Three pages of property listings. Tipstaff had printed them off for him with only a raised eyebrow and a, "Never thought you'd move out of Dublin, Detective."

"What brought this on?"

He looks up. "Hm?"

"You show up here at an ungodly hour of the morning, nobody to rein you in, and you're being helpful? I don't buy it. I know China as well as you do. She told you to kill me, didn't she?"

"She did," Skulduggery acknowledges, and a very old, very spiky part of him gets a kick out of watching the blood drain from Serpine's face. "I told her no."

"Bollocks."

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But it's true. Ah, don't look at me like that, Nefarian. It's got nothing to do with you. I was just feeling argumentative that day. And, if nothing else, I can always rely on China to argue with me if I tell her no."

"So -"

"For my sins, she made you my responsibility, see. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get up to any of your old tricks. And if you do, then I'll kill you. I'll be checking in on you to make sure you're behaving yourself. Think of me as a...probation officer, of sorts. With benefits."

More blinking. This version of Serpine is not a morning person. He bets his alternate self got to sleep in far later in this Serpine's dungeon. "I'm not seeing any benefits."

"The benefit is I get to kill you if you step out of line. I never said the benefits were for you."

"Are there any benefits in this for me?"

He considers this for a moment. "You get to live. Because of me. I saved your life. "

Serpine's face is emotionless and his voice is flat.

"Oh," he says. "Yippee."

He's interviewing a witness when his phone rings.

He politely excuses himself, and steps out into the hallway to answer it. "Pleasant."

"Hello!" Serpine says brightly, and launches immediately into, "I want a car."

Skulduggery's fake face blinks at the sigil-embossed wallpaper. It takes a second to even register the voice, and another to pick up on -

"How the -? Who gave you this number?"

"Valkyrie." Serpine sounds completely unapologetic. "And you're supposed to be teaching me to drive."

Serpine can't see his head tilt. He does it anyway. "Am I now? And what gave you that idea?"

"I'm your problem now, remember? Besides, you agreed to it," is the smug answer. "Before our little holiday back to my dimension, I said I wanted a better house and a latte and a car. And driving lessons."

"I never agreed to that."

"Well, you didn't say no. That's agreement by default. Sorry."

"Plenty of people can teach you to drive, Nefarian. You could teach yourself, even. Watch a video on Youtube."

"Detective Pleasant, I am shocked," Serpine teases, suddenly dripping with insincere concern. "Think of all those poor defenceless mortals I could run into. There's an advert on the television about how you're specifically not supposed to hit them with cars. It kills them, apparently. How will I cope without you there to make sure I resist temptation?"

Skulduggery grinds his teeth. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely. I'd completely forgotten how much fun it is to have you at my mercy. And you did say you're supposed to keep an eye on me."

Skulduggery goes quiet for a moment, focusing on reining in the urge to hit something. Serpine's face. He wants to hit Serpine's face. With a chair. Trust him to figure out that being Skulduggery's responsibility meant he could go to him for help.

"Fine."

"Excellent! And now you have my number, so you can let me know when you're free."

"Since when do you have a mobile?"

"Since today," Serpine says airily. "Tanith helped me pick one out. I can talk to anyone, anywhere, whenever I like now. Isn't that great? I mean, I only have two numbers, three now that Valkyrie's given me yours, but still. Now I'll always have someone to talk to."

"This is a work line. It is not for social calls."

A passing sorcerer startles a little at his tone, and he gives her an apologetic smile. As an afterthought, he rolls his eyes in a you know how it is gesture. But she's already walking away, so really he just rolls his eyes at her back, which is probably rude of him.

Serpine is still talking. "- can send little moving pictures, and I've downloaded all these little applications, so now I do all sorts of fun things. Do you use...whatsit...Snapchat? I have Snapchat now. And I've got Angry Birds and Candy Crush and Grindr."

And that? That right there? That is more than he ever needed to know about Serpine.

"Goodbye, Nefarian," he says firmly, and hangs up.

He checks in on Serpine once a week, officially. Unofficially, he clocks more hours than he'd like to admit parked in an alley outside Scapegrace's pub, waiting for someone to scream bloody murder. Serpine spots him a couple of times, gives him a jaunty wave with his newly-regrown hand on his way to the off-licence, mocking and unconcerned.

But nobody gets murdered. Serpine seems to be...behaving. For now.

"I've volunteered you for move-in duty," Valkyrie says, apropos of nothing. When he blinks at her, she shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. "Serpine's found a flat. He needs some furniture shifting."

He's not going to throw anything at his partner in this busy mortal cafe. He's not.

"I see. And you thought that has anything to do with me because..."

She polishes off the last dregs of her drink with a slurp. "I can't float stuff up stairs."

The apartment Serpine is moving into is a decent two-bedroom on the fourth floor of a six-floor block in a quiet area with a history of minimal unexpected-demolitions-by-overpowered-supervillain. Skulduggery idly wonders, as he pulls up in the parking area behind the building, whether a mass murderer moving in - and the frequent visits by the other mass murderer charged with keeping an eye on him - will bring down housing prices. China will hate that, when she wakes up.

Serpine is waiting for him out front, surrounded by boxes and furniture, already looking a bit frazzled. His outfit is stylish and his slicked-back hair is sticking up in places where he's been running his hands though it. He startles and looks up at the sound of footsteps, and seems to breathe a sigh of relief. "Ah! You came. Valkyrie said you'd know how to go about getting all this, you know. Up there."

"You can hire people for this, you know," Skulduggery tells him. "Removal men."

"With what money?" Serpine asks, a little helplessly. "Valkyrie gave me some of her old things, but I got most of this from - what's the word? - second hand shops, and the refugee aid centre. I've been looking for work, but...you know." He gestures at his face. "This is my criminal record."

Which...is a fair point, so Skulduggery rolls up his sleeves and moves to one end of a squashed two-seater couch. "Fair enough. Grab the other end."

Serpine's mouth almost drops open. "You want to carry it? Like peasants? I thought you were here to float the damn thing!"

Well, he could. But the world isn't actively ending right now, so he can afford to be petty. "I don't use magic unless I have to, these days. We'll be doing this the old-fashioned way."

"But." The last time he saw someone look this aghast was when Valkyrie realised how the citizens of Roarhaven saw her. "But that's manual labour!"

"A little manual labour will do you good."

"Gods, I hate you," Serpine tells him as he moves to grab the other end of the couch.

Skulduggery turns the facade on specifically to give him a smug smirk. "I know."

By the time they're finishing up the boxes, Serpine's new neighbours have come out into the hall to see what all the banging is about. They seem young, mostly - too young to recognise him from the war. Skulduggery is starting to suspect that Serpine has accidentally moved into student housing, but he keeps his mouth shut. Serpine is being chatty and charming, holding court in the corridor, and Skulduggery mostly lets him get on with it in between trips to the bottom of the stairs to pick up more boxes, until a young woman who holds Serpine's front door open for him and chuckles, "Left you doing all the work, has he? He's a talker, your boyfriend. I bet you don't get a word in edgewise."

It's not often that Skulduggery Pleasant is lost for words. "I. I'm sorry. What?"

Fortunately, Serpine chooses that moment to interrupt the conversation he's having and interject, "Oh, no, darling. We're not together. He's just here to make sure I stay out of trouble."

There's something off about how he says it, though. There must be, because the woman taps her nose like he's just confided a secret, and Skulduggery can't help but feel like he's just been made the butt of a joke he doesn't fully understand.

He checks on Serpine once a week. Occasionally Serpine texts him. A blurry photo, usually paired with a caption like, "what the hell is this?"; a set of traffic lights, or a lollipop man, or a chihuahua in a little jumper. Sometimes he responds, but sometimes he doesn't bother.

It's not like they're friends.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Roarhaven's shopping district is bustling, and Nefarian Serpine is late.

Skulduggery's been people-watching, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, for fifteen minutes when he finally shows up with a to-go coffee cup in one hand and a stack of books under the other arm. He's frowning.

"You're late," says Skulduggery, by way of greeting.

Serpine shrugs, taking the seat opposite. He dumps his books on the round table and gives the menu a cursory glance. "Sorry. I was at the library. Almost missed the bus."

A waitress approaches wearing a shirt stamped with the logo of the little bistro they're sat outside, and while Serpine orders lunch, Skulduggery idly examines the titles stamped along the spines of his book mountain. Some of them look old, leather bound tomes with fancy gold lettering, and the rest seem to be...textbooks, of all things.

"A little light reading, Nefarian?"

"Huh?" Serpine - busy watching the waitress walk back inside - swivels round to face him, and shrugs. "Oh. Yeah. I want to see if they match up with the slanderous shite they're teaching at the university."

"Excuse me?"

Serpine shrugs. "Vapid and Ty - you know Ty, weird hair, lives next door - thought it might help me adapt if I learn more about how your world is different to mine, so. I've been sitting in on some classes. Unofficially. History. Mortal Relations. That kind of thing. You have battles here that never happened back home, you know."

Skulduggery folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair, amused despite himself. "Mortal Relations? You're going to Mortal Relations lectures. You."

"Shut up," says Serpine, pointing a finger at him. "You don't get to laugh. You're not the one nobody wants to hire. - because that's still a problem, by the way. Aren't you supposed to be helping me with that?"

"I'm supposed to be making sure you don't kill anyone or make a nuisance of yourself. Sorry to disappoint."

"Would it kill you to write me a character reference?"

Skulduggery coughs conspicuously into his gloved hand with the throat he doesn't have. He picks up the top book from Serpine's stack and flips idly through Religion & Warfare: The Rise Of The Church Of The Faceless In The 15th Century . "Think about that one for a minute, Nefarian, and you'll remember why it's not happening."

"Fine. Be like that." Serpine's shoe nudges his leg under the table. "Here, were you at the Battle of Black Rock?"

He has to think about that one for a second, then hums in the negative. "Hm. No. I missed that one. I think that was when I was holed up in Cork with a broken leg. Why?"

"History 201," Serpine muses. "I tagged along this morning. It was mostly about that fight, but it never happened in my dimension. It was borderline slanderous, honestly. The professor is an imbecile."

"You're dying to vent, aren't you?"

"Would you mind terribly?"

Skulduggery pulls his ornate pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and checks the time. "You've got fifteen minutes. Better talk fast."

Time goes by.

He checks on Nefarian once a week. They have coffee, sometimes. Valkyrie knows not to cross the line of bringing Serpine to Skulduggery's home, but she adds them both to a group chat and neither one leaves.

Nefarian wrecks his first car, and Skulduggery makes the drive out from Dublin at 5.45am to rescue him. He calls the tow truck while Serpine sits, pale and shaken, in the Bentley's front seat, drenched from the rain and squelching miserably every time he moves.

He apologises for calling so early, and for once he sounds like he means it.

Skulduggery takes him through the McDonalds drive thru to cheer him up, and as Nefarian tucks into a box of fries with gusto, he thinks, oh no.

They're not friends. They're not.

"Is this a date?"

Skulduggery tilts his head, hand stilling over the car keys. "I'm sorry?"

Valkyrie tosses another piece of popcorn into her mouth. She's already in her pyjamas, fluffy ones with dogs on them, and she's flicking through the Netflix queue. "You're all dressed up. Is this a date? Have you two finally gotten over yourselves? God knows it's been long enough."

He snatches up the car keys and sniffs, disdainful. "After all these decades, Valkyrie, if that's what your expert detective skills are telling you, I have failed as a mentor."

"And now you're getting defensive."

"I'm doing no such thing. Where's Tanith, by the way?"

She laughs and does double fingerguns at him. "And that's deflection!"

He sighs - dramatically, for her benefit - and as he checks his pocket watch, she continues, "And, she's on her way. Get out, already. You have a date to keep and we have movies to watch."

"It's not a bloody date," he complains, patting his pockets to make sure he's got everything. "And I originally asked you."

"Yeah, but opera's boring. Here, is he meeting you there or are you picking him up?"

"Goodbye, Valkyrie."

"See?!" She shouts after him as he shuts the front door. "Date!"

#skulduggery pleasant #remember when my shame post of shame was mere valdug? nope u get this now #thats right yall #i got WORSE #goodnight ✌🏻#there were gonna be more scenes in this believe it or not it just got SO FUCKING LONG #skulpine #which is not a ship tag i ever thought id be using rip

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years

Text

Ghosting A Wayne

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult content +18 only!! Smut, Agegap, Swearing, A Little Angst?

A/n:Ok so this is the first real full smut iv done and im super nervous about posting this one i hope its good but if its shit im sorry hope you enjoyxx

After getting cold feet because of your own insecurities you get a visitor pick you up from work.

Ghosting A Wayne

You sighed as you pulled out a batch of cookies from the oven placing the three large trays out on the cooling racks today was a baking day to fill the display out the front ,you'd been alone with your thoughts all day and were just about done, glancing at the clock you fist pumped the air. Home time. You quickly undone your apron hanging it on the hook by the kitchen door then called out to Tom that your shift was done.

After your first lunch date with Bruce you intended to leave it there but the man was very persistent... and charming somehow he'd managed to talk you in circles and wrangle a second date and third and forth. you'd canceled your fifth using work as an excuse and he bought it for about a week, then he began asking when you were free telling you to call him giving you his personal number which you didn't call.

That worked for about three days before he began messaging you about a date you replied with excuses it seemed to work until he showed up at the door to drop Damien round instead of Alfred, Jack had covered for you not letting either of them in saying you were ill. It wasn't that you didn't like him or anything you were scared, scared of getting hurt he was amazing a perfect gentleman he made you laugh he took you to fancy places but didn't make you uncomfortable even going so far as to berate another guest as he heard them make a comment of the restaurant 'letting anyone in these days' when he was returning from the rest room , you felt special and safe with him.

But he was The Bruce Wayne and nothing would ever come of it. Someone like you had no right to be with someone like him, he deserved a high class well educated successful woman not a minimum wage cafe worker who dropped out of college. You found yourself growing to attached to him and it had frightened you. Not only that but what would people say when they found out, probably think your a charity case or a gold digger you could see the headlines now ' The playboys new sugar baby' with photos of you plastered across the tabloids you shivered.

Damien had spoke to you about it he was far to smart for his own good telling you your being a 'stupid female' and that you should just talk to Bruce about it, Jack also scolded you for being stupid and letting your insecurities hold you back.

The boy had been soo happy for you when you were going out with Bruce, he admitted that he felt responsible for you being alone and not having friends or a boyfriend it broke your heart, hearing how he blamed himself for it, yes it had been hard taking on a 8 year old at 20 years old and yes you did need to grow up quicker then most and avoid the typical early twenties drinking and clubbing but you wouldn't change a thing. When he had brought it up you both had a heart to heart and you were gobsmacked at just how mature he had soundec. He told you that he didn't care about Bruce being Damien's dad or that he was older than you, he was happy that you had someone who made you happy and wanted you to got out with him again and be happy. The boys didn't understand.

"Tom I'm finished don't touch the cookies before they cool you can have one to test but that's it theirs 48 here I've counted, so if you have anymore I will know its you, you greedy little shit" you said opeing the door you walked straight into him he was wide eyed pointing out to the font over his shouldet. You froze thinking the worst it was gotham afterall.

"Oh my god tom?"

"You have.. Out the there.... Man front" he said not making any sense you pushed past him through the door

"whats wron-"

"y/n!" you snapped your head to the counter seeing Bruce standing their ignoring the odd looks he received from the other few customers scattered about in the cafe. You slung your bag over your shoulder cradling your coat in the other hand cursing quietly. Scanning the cafe for a quick exit wanting to run. There was one way in and out and he was between you and the door. Giving in you plastered on a polite smile.

"Bruce what are you doing here?" you asked tentatively due to the blank look on his face unsure what mood he would be in after you ghosted him. Making your way around the counter he followed on the other side meeting you at the end.

"I wanted to take you out, Jack told me when you finished so I thought I'd come pick you up for dinner" you felt the gazes in the room shift from him to you and the whispers started. Bruce held out a hand taking your coat from you while you tried to come up with a reason not to your anxiety screaming at you to run. You sighed at him biting your lower lip raw he lifted a hand pulling it gently forcing you to release it. He smiled meeting your eyes trying to calm you.

"Bruce I don't feel like going out tonight can we reschedule?" hooking his arm around your waist guiding you out of the cafe past the gossiping customers opening the door for the both of you pressing himself to your back giving you no room to bolt away. Hed catch you anyway.

"Good news, we don't have to go out Alfred is making us dinner back home, so we get to have a relaxing night in." you nodded as you left walking down the street feeling your nerves spike as you realized there was no reason to avoid this. He kept pace with you to the side arms ready to dart out and catch you as you glanced around a little skittish he ushered you into a ridiculously expensive Lamborghini and took off down the road.

"So that's Tom then? the one you were talking about?" he started you were confused as he acted like you hadn't been avoiding him for the past week and half you just nodded.

"Err yeah that's him we get along work really well, I was doing all the baking today couldn't handle the customers they were doing my head in." he nodded placing a warm hand on your knee running his thumb in small circles you took a deep breath.

"I know what you mean, had a lot of meetings today with a bunch little men wanting me to over invest in companies that wont last the financial year" you tensed as he left his hand on your leg still navigating the traffic, you tried to shift your led from underneath him but he just followed squeezing it lightly making your breath hitch and clench your walls tight.

"Sh-shouldn't you have both hands on the wheel in a car like this?" you asked quietly he laughed giving you a mischievous look then you screamed as he let go of the wheel completely still picking up speed quickly.

"OH MY GOD BRUCE NO!" you cried leaning over grabbing it yourself he just laughed out loud placing one hand back on it the other still resting on your knee.

"Its fine I could probably drive this with my eyes closed, it's nothing like my other car" he said cheekily as he made his way towards the outskirts of gotham you swallowed nervously.

"yeah please dont do that"

"Don't worry I'd never let anything happen to you sweets" you blushed as he used the nickname he'd given you onde he found out about your sweet tooth and the fact you do all the baking at the cafe.

"He says after driving without hands." you scoffed looking out of the window as the scenery changed. It wasn't long before you pulled up to the manor. It was impressive you'd only been inside twice whilst waiting for Jack to get his things he thought it was the perfect place to hid from his dentist and doctors appointments. Once out of the car he lead you inside where Alfred greeted you both.

"Ah Master Wayne dinner will take another hour or so I'm afraid and Y/n its lovely to see you again." Bruce gave you both a look seeking an explanation for the first name basis.

"Have you met everyone in this house before me?" he asked sarcastically you smiled at him before Alfred took your coats hanging them up.

"Well sometimes the boys play about getting ready so Alfred comes in for tea whilst we wait and I've met Tim he has come over a few times drank my whole pot of coffee and left." he grunted before leading you to a small sitting room off to the side.

"We will be in here Alfred call us when dinner is ready." Alfred nodded smiling slyly before closing the door leaving you in private. You sat down on the leather sofa a nervous wreck looking around the opulent room feeling out of place, he took a seat beside you offering you a glass of what you assumed was scotch he sat and leaned in next to you. Relaxing as he took a slow sip of his drink.

"Don't look so worried the boys explained for you. Your scared of getting hurt I can understand that I don't exactly have the best record but I'm not giving up as you can tell."you looked down into your glass a little ashamed as you heard hurt laced in his words.

"I-its not that, its me I.. I love spending time with you I really do... but I dont think you should waste your time on me... thats all" he frowned you sounded so ...defeated , he didnt like it one bit placing his glass down putting two and two together. That he didn't know Damien said you were being a 'difficult woman' and Jack had said that you hadn't dated since school and were afraid of being hurt he summarised that it was because of him but it sounds like there was more to it then that. Bruce took a deep breath regarding you carefully.

"Waste my time? why would spending time with you be a waste. There is something between us, I have never felt this type of pull to a woman before and I'm quite determind to see you if you havent already noticed" he said sternly you shrunk into the sofa he sighed pulling the glass tumbler from you hand.

"Whats really going on? we were going fine then you just pulled back. I want this, us and I know you do to but we have to talk to each other." You leaned forward locking eyes with him feeling overwhelmed you shook your head pulling back he followed leaning back pulling you across the seat wrapping his arms around you pulling your face into his chest holding you, you tried pulling yourself off of him but he was to stronger than he looked. You Gave up then took a deep breath endulging in the closeness breathing him in.

"Talk to me please" he spoke quietly into your hair

"I cant, I just cant, your-I, you need someone better. And if people find out then what will they think? that I'm a charity case some passing fancy? that you'll get bored with and you will bruce. When you find some older succsessfull women who equals you. someone that I can never be for you. I wont be good enough for you and you'll see it one day" once you started you couldn't stop as the words kept coming your fears poured out after being kept bottled up since that very first date.Fears of loving him and then him leaving, or of what backlash Jack could face if you were painted to be a whore trying to capture Bruces attention, the cps could investigate if it seemed like you were becoming a party girl like what Bruce typically dated. Then there was the fact that the school could start being funny if word got out that you and bruce were together. But the main reason was that he was to good for you and you knew it. You heaved a breath feeling lighter yet your stomach churned he had been quiet throughout and you'd gotten yourself worked up shaking from your anxiety feeling sick to your stomach.

"I'm sorry I know I should have spoke to you instead but I... I was scared that you were going to realize I'm right and leave ...so" he hushed you rubbing your back lightly causing you to shiver and relax onto his chest.

"So you left before I could?" you flinched then nodded it sounded so petty when said out loud he moved sitting up a bit more dragging you with him not releasing you for a second, he would have preferred if it had all been about his past but now realized you had low self esteem you had fears about the future, the age gap, Jacks future and how people would judge you all of these fear were to blame. And he understood it must be daughting, but what got him most was that you thought he'd let you deal with it alone , that you were so scared of loosing him in the long run you tried to walk away now and that was all the proof he needed that you did feel somthing for him.

"Tell me something does Jack have a problem with you being with me?" he asked you shook your head instantly.

"No he loves it, he wants me to be with you he saw how happy I was he has been pestering me to call" he pulled his head away smiling confusing you.

"I can tell you that Damien is thrilled he has even been bragging to his brothers that I've found the perfect woman and they cant wait to meet you by the way the

and he threatened me before every date to 'not to fuck it up' so let me ask another question if Jack, Damien me and you are happy what does anyone else's opinion matter? it's our life why should we make ourselves miserable over a few tabloids that can be taken to court and be corrected? and I do have reporters that I trust with these type of stories one is a very close friend who I could give an exclusive to before any rumors get around and the press make up some nonsense. Not only that I know Clark wold print the truth if he knew that it involved the boys being bullied in the school." he let you pull back shocked you didnt think he would want anyone to know, you thought hed be ashamed of you.

"wh-what?" it was bearly a whisper but he heard it.

"You heard me sweets, Clark wouldn't let me down not with this and there are other reporters who I've trusted to cover stories of the boys in the past one phone call and I would have everything sorted and anyone who tries to make this something its not will feel the full force of my legal team." he leaned in giving you no time to reply kissing you deeply invading your mouth moaning into you. His tongue dominated your mouth taking your breath away he paused pulling you to straddle his waist you blushed looking down at him.Trying to put your weight on your knees conscious of your weight Bruce not having any of that tugged harshly pulling your weight on his thighs.

"And as for finding someone better I doubt it. I've said it before and I will say it again I want you. Not some stuck up model who's one surgery away from being on botched. The day we met I was floored and for the first time I saw what I truly wanted for me and my family. And it wasn't some highly educated business woman, no it was a sexy little mama bear who treated my son as her own." you gasped as he brought your hips closer resting you on his crotch before leaning forward capturing your lips again this time slow and deliberate pouring himself into it you, you moaned quietly as he rocked you across his groin. Pulling back for air

"So little miss now we have all that cleared up is there anything you want to add?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you gasped out trying to collect yourself as you began getting tearful as you felt stupid for being so silly yet relieved that he hadn't thrown you out, he chuckled shushing you then moved biting at your earlobe .

"That's ok love I'm sure you'll make it up to me" he said kissing down your neck biting below your ear then lower to your pulse point feeling it race under his tongue before sucking harshly bordering on painful.

"o-OH Bruce" you gasped gripping his shoulder trying not to lean back to far and fall he noticed using and arm to hold you elbow resting on your waist curling his fingers into your low bun pulling slowly stretching your neck before him leaving marks up it you groaned closing your eyes trying to rub your thighs together as your pussy grew hot and clenched dampening your panties he ran his nose down your neck kissing your collar bone lightly.

"Aww sweety so desperate hm?" you whined squeezing his hips between your thighs again grinding softly against him he chuckled biting the top of your breast running his tongue along your cleavage unbuttoning your blouse with deft fingers then returned them to your hips pushing you harshly on his erection you cried out looking down panting as he dragged you slowly back and forth feeling him through his trousers was almost to much you fisted your hands in the crisp shirt covering his shoulders. He let out a breathy growl smug as you started trying to rock on him faster pouting when he held you controlling your pace circling you slow on his bulge dipping his thumbs into your pelvis tilting you catching your clit with every pass of your hips you shook your head eyes tightly shut.

"OH fuck shiiitt Bruce" he watched eyes blown as he built you up slowly drinking in your flushed face pouty full lips forming an 'o' as you let out high pitched cries his hands smothered your breasts squeezing them in his palms testing them before he tipped the cups down teasing your pink nipples to attention. You opened your eyes glazed over pleading with him.

"Please Bruce... I dont-fuck" you moaned high and louder almost squeeling as he pinched one of your nipples refusing to let go pulling your chest towards him by it until he could lay a sweet kiss to the other suckling catching it between his teeth nipping it letting go with a loud pop. You panted harder as he toyed with you, your body trembled as he pulled you closer to the edge your clit rubbed harshly against him and he growled relishing in the way your heat seeped onto him. He couldn't wait. He wouldn't. With a one sweeping motion you found yourself lying on the sofa with him hovering over you pulling your leggings down over your hips skimming your quivering thighs with his knuckles befor rubbing your calves and griping your ankles encircling them effortlesly, running his thumbs across the inside of them . Following bending as he went kissing your soft stomach and pelvis finally leaving a small kiss on your mound over your panties you moaned at that. He slipped your leggings off taking your flats with them you blushed as he stared seeing the wet patch you'd left on your panties crawling back up you exploring with his hands the whole way. Hooking a hand around to back of your neck he pulled you up into a bruising kiss needy as he angled his head to devour you deeper his other hand dragging your shirt from you by the back of the neck unclipping your bra and he went lowering you back down you blushed trying to cover yourself he growled pinning them beside you.

"Nooo you dont babe, let me see, show me" he ground out a deep gruntle sound that vibrated threw you trailing the tips of his fingers from your throat down in slow unpredictable patterns leaving goosebumps in his wake your nipples pebbled as he past them your whole body shuddered

"Fuck. Your stunning" you didn't meet his gaze it was to hot, posessive like he was claiming you already just with his eyes watching closely memorizing every freckle and mark on your skin, he let out a deep shuddering breath when you arched up inyo him as he fingered the bow on the waist band of your panties back and forth he brought his fingers lower and lower across your mound. You squirmed trying to buck up against him trying to get him where you desperately needed him whimpering pitifully. His response was to stretch out his fingers across your lower tummy and push you back down holding you still. You protested as his warm hand covered your whole mound and rocked forward trying to catch your clit on the heal of his palm that rested just out of reach.

"Such a greedy little thing. I think I'm going to have to work on your manners" he chided before using a hand to unbutton his shirt revealing a perfectly sculpted torso, you made a noise in the back of your throat that you didn't recognize at the sight of him, caramel skin taught over deliciously defined muscles and small thatch of hair disappearing below a teasingly low hanging trousers he let the shirt slide to the floor undoing his belt then slowly pulled his trousers over his hip grunting thrusting forward as it glided over his cock. You bit your lip still trying to move against his heavy hand he granted you a little mercy twisting as the wrist slotting his thumb between your lips seeking your clit and rubbing a figure 8 hard.

"AHH! F-Fuck BRUCE yes oh god-" you gasped deep breaths as he rolled your cilt around almost rough in his ministrations the fabric of you panties hieghtend the sensation you closed your eyes grinding yourself down on him tears leaked from them his other hand came up to your throat forcing you to face him.

"Look at me baby. come on let me see you... ah there she is good girl" he praised as you looked at him tears clinging to your lashes his hand still working you. Sobbing incoherently trying to buck up to him.

"OH fuck please-PLEASE let me come bruce please I'll do anything PLEASE" you breathed out hoarse gasping when your pussy weeped wetting the sofa below you he played you like an instrument taking you higher and higher you clenched and withered as you felt that familiar burn of an orgasm start in your lower tummy , almost cramping as it traveld lower to your pussy you chased it trying to rock harder just as you were at the presapice he stopped pulling his thumb away bit still pinned you down.

"AH! NO Br-BRUCE come back" you sobbed reaching out for him as your body hummed hot and quivering you gave up on finding his hand throwing yours between you trying to take over and force yourself over the edge. Soo close. Bruce was quicker catching them in one hand pulling them above you head. He watched waiting for you to come down from the almost high. Pouting all the way.

"You can count that as your punishment babe" he whispered huskliey into your neck kissing at the marks he has left. You cried out frustarated sweaty and exhasted.

"But im feeling a little mercifull tonight." you looked at him from below your lashes his heart skipped a beat seeing you look at him so needy and ready you looked so small,he could do anything to you right now but only wanted one thing. Shuffling back leaning down he placed an open mouthed kiss on your panties slipping his fingers in the sides draging them off before standing removing his boxers freeing his erection you gasped as it bounced up tapping his stomach ,hesitantly you reached out running a single finger along the underside from tip to base he jerked forward when you cupped him testing your grip befor stroking him he stopped you

"Fuck sorry babe but I cant wait." he growled out pinning you back down running his weeping head up and down your slit you tensed as he probed your enterance. Sensing your nerves he locked lips with you coaxing out your tongue sucking on it before licking in your mouth makeing obscene noises feeling you relax he took the chance and slowly begun stretching you around him ,you gasped at the slight sting pulling back rest your forehead on his grunting softly as he kept a slow steady pressure finally knocking his hips with yours you panted feeling your walls fluttering around him then squeezing

"shit Bruce" he huffed out a laugh flexing in response

"carefull there babe" you grunted feeling stuffed full as his head pushed against your cervix.

"Bruce please...HUrry up!" you clenched him stealing his breath from him he gave a playfull glare you felt a little tremor of apprehension as he repostioned your legs higher on his hips placing your heels into his lower back before plowing you into the sofa grunting and growling as his thrusts rocked your body you were by no means quiet as the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he slowed then pressed himself tight against your clit rotating catching your gspot you bucked violenty against him head thrown back as you wailed he leaned up sucking and biting at your neck then resumed finding a brutal pace aiming for your gspot hitting it with pinpoint accuracy. You shook your head screaming out uncontrollably bucking begging for him to go harder, faster just wanting more. It wasn't long befor you saw stars letting out a silent scream tensing before you snapped cumming around him almost blinded as he rode you through it still hitting your spot faster if that was even possible before stuttering his hips holding himself tight locking you both together as he flooded you.

"OH GOD fuck FUCK yesyesyes good girl yes fuck" he moaned as you lay beneath him, limp body still quacking in the aftermath of your own end. He stayed still until he was soft catching his breath recovering before you removing himself he sat back on his knees watching as he leaked from you quick to scoop his cum and press it back within you, you whined still painfully oversensitive trying to pull away from his invading fingers. he chuckled as you squirmed utterly spent.

"nooo bruce" you whined as he prodded your freshly fucked pussy lighly grazing your abused clit causing you to whine at him pitifully jolting with every swipe.

"Aww baby are you sore?" you pouted at his words nodding he got up sitting you up handing you your forgotton drink you took it gulping it down ignoring the burn. he retrived his boxers throwing them on then a soft blanket covering you before scooping you up heading for the door.

"Bruce? what are you doing?" you asked gorgily already struggiljng to stay awake he leant down shutting you up with a kiss.

"We are going to bed you need some sleep before we continue." you blinked

"wha?" he grinned cheekily

"well how are we going to build up your stamina if we dont push past your exhaustion?" you almost cried just wanting to sleep.

"What about Alfred dinner?" you questioned

"He didnt make any I had to have a reason to get you here didnt I? he went to bed. and dont worry about Jack he is staying over in a room next to Damien's" you looked at him shocked

"What why was he here? do you think he could have heard me? bruce!" you panicked suddenly fully awake trying to wiggle out of his grip he laughed kissing your face.

"Oh my god what about our clothes? Bruce go back and shit we made a mess i need to clean that up..Bruce are you listening?" You created as he continued further away from the room youd just soild.

"he didnt hear you at all it was one of his demands when we planned this. And dont worry about the room or the clothes alfred will take care of it" he said scaling the stairs with ease taking you to his room

"planned? you who else knew? And what do you mean alfred will take care of it? no absolutly not that is embarassing" you argued as he kicked the door to his room shut behind him depositing you on his bed following you down landing above you kissing you again.

"me alfred damien and jack planned it but dick and jason knew too thats why they are scarce and alfred has cleard up worse trust me." he explained you stared at him in horror

"My little brother set me up with you?oh my god I'm not going to live that down and i need to clear that up its to embarassing for alfred to see" you cried he laughed out loud.

"Well I think its was worth it, and you can try and beat Alfred to it but that room will be ccleared up before sunrise and you won't be leaving this bed before then" he said snuggling up with you under the cover ,you made a noise as he tucked you into his chest his heart beat calming you making you drift into a peaceful sleep resting on his chest, feeling safe and sound wrapped up in him as he traced patterns on your back, sighing he was finally content a peace he hadnt known befor washed over him satisfied that he had found the woman that would complete his family, his chest swelled as he placed a kiss on your head. He wasn't ever letting you go now that he had you here. Glancing over at the clock, hed give you an hour or so to build up some energy before he woke you smirkjng to himslef planing all the wicked ways he was going to toy with you during the night. Oh yes the night was young and if Bruce had his way you wouldnt be leaving his bed tomorrow because you wouldnt be able to, thankfully you hade a few days off so he might let you recover. Then again he might not.

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayned fic #bruce wayne x reader #batmom imagines #batman x y/n #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #dc x y/n #dc x reader

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tigerdrop · 4 years

Note

u know u could put out the weirdest most fucked up shit and we would still love it. obviously don't share stuff if it makes u uncomfortable but for every single thing you find embarrassing there's something several times worse

i really hope ur ready to stand by these words b/c im about to tell you about.......showdog dogboy gordon. for five thousand fucking words

look. listen. hear me out. my dear kogo introduced me to an idea and it has not left my mind since: showdog......dogboy......gordon

like.........you know.......its about. dogboy. submitting while benrey dolls him up and makes him look nice. maybe hes been a lot......fuzzier since he got forcibly nintendogged. and maybe benrey cracks a joke about it, maybe the joke gets pulled out a little too far. b/c its the two of them, and thats what they do. its jokes. games. jokes being riffed upon and thinly-veiled dares being issued until gordon freeman finds himself standing awkwardly next to a grooming table in nothing but his underwear while benrey tells him to chill the fuck out. puts that collar on him. after all, he wants to look nice for his friend, right? they say a dog is mans best friend

this definitely would not be the first time a joke or a game went too far and they ended up fucking at the end of it, but this is......this is a whole level beyond. this is definitely, like. theres a Lot going on here. but neither of them are breaking character yet so

and. you know. if youre feeling really insane. like me. if youre feeling just fucking diseased. you can make benrey.......pretty big here. make gordon dogy-sized next to him. not like, tiny, but enough that gordon, ordinarily a Big Guy, feels......small. a little emasculated

and.....yknow. gordon could be collared and chained to the table. like a real dog. not a lot of slack on that thing. and maybe hed be.......muzzled, too. if hes the kind of dogboy that gets snippy at scissors

its really good also for.....benrey being fully clothed and gloved up while gordons almost entirely bare. i know dog groomers dont strictly have to wear gloves. but still. not that it was really going to stop me if he wouldnt actually have a reason to wear gloves. i would make him anyway b/c ive lost all dignity

ITS ABOUT. THE HORNY FUCKING GAME. like they could talk about it if, if they wanted, if they were normal about it, b/c in this scenario they have absolutely fucked it out before (b/c i cant imagine any other fucking way gordon freeman acquiesces to this unless hes Aware that theres gonna be dick touching involved), but they are not normal and they are not going to break kayfabe even if it kills them

and like......i think the muzzle thing is......good. its really really good. b/c benrey can get real fuckin mean and tell him that hes gonna have to be a good boy and keep his teeth to himself if he wants it off so that benrey can make him look less like shit

those new canines of his are awful pointy. is gordon sure he can handle it? can he get a grip on his dogy side for fucking long enough to let benrey take a straight razor to his face? of course he can, he thinks, b/c hes not a fucking dog, okay, hes still a guy, and hes here to prove it and just. behave. while benrey manhandles him and grooms him and brushes out his fur and files his fucking nails. hes not in thrall to his instincts whether they be animalistic or vulgar. and hes definitely not going to cave and ask benrey to touch his fucking dick while he does this

> i enjoy the thought of benrey posing gordon as he pleases but never directly touching him, lifting his leg to get under his upper thigh or stretching the skin of his belly taut as not to nick him. so concentrated on gordon but feigning ignorance to his building arousal, ignoring it

> that art jordan did where gordon is on the table and has the collar on. his chest is shaved into the shape of a heart and that made me so DFUCKING CRAZY I STARTED BARKING AND SNARLING AKLSJAKDJFS

YEAH.....ITS......its shaved into a heart on purpose. and i left that in the first version i posted but nobody said anything about it so i just whistled and walked away

> LIKE. the emasculation of it....the fucking. possesiveness. theres also an undercurrent of like tenderness to it that made me fucking go apeshit

its such a fucking power move too. like. thats not gonna grow out for awhile. every time gordon freeman looks in the mirror for the next few weeks hes gonna be reminded of how fuckin debased he was

just..............consider........the trust hed have to put in benrey for it........benrey holding gordons jaw very firmly in his hand and showing him the straight razor and being like "yo.......uhh......this things sharp. dont wanna make a mess......better, better sit real fuckin still. sit boy. dont move." and sitting rigidly after benrey says something like that while tilting his jaw up to look directly athim is one of the hardest things gordons done in his life. hes sweating and hes making himself dizzy by trying not to breathe too much

he can just......he can see exactly where gordons jugular is fluttering madly under the razor and where gordons adams apple bobs as benrey skims stubble off his throat and rest assured that benrey is getting off on this just as much as gordon is

big......big hands on his face.....turning him every which way.......running his thumb over the clean line of his jaw to feel the results..........i think its just, its a cool scenario. to think about. but instead of this being just a normal "gordon freeman gets shaved" scenario, hes half naked and chained to a table and also has dog ears for some fucking reason

but also this is just like......his face. its the "trimming him everywhere" thats the really fun part

> like...the moving down his body....touching almost clinically by moving part of him around to get everything...yknow....

casual.....clinical.......nervewracking to be on the receiving end of

> thinking about him having to restrain his horny is fun, but it’s especially fun when you think about how he’d spend hours like that, hard and dripping, since friend benrey wants to be so through

> YES CLINICAL, ALMOST INDIFFERENT

fucking. hours. of just laying there anxiously running his mouth and laughing and gasping when benrey moves him like its nothing or touches him somewhere that makes him jump......like.......benrey with something whirring as loudly as those clippers in his hand doesnt exactly inspire confidence......but hes weirdly good at what hes doing and hes got a broad palm flat on gordons stomach to hold him in place/get him to chill out......but it just makes gordon sweat and flush and hes trying so hard to stay still b/c benrey keeps demeaning him when he squirms too much......like, what, is he scared? thinks benreys gonna cut his other arm off with a pair of hair clippers? get real. calm down maybe.

but thats not really the reason why hes acting weirdly ticklish about the whole procedure. (its because of the Scenario, man. gordons trying so hard to be normal in the face of the awareness that this is one of the most insane things hes ever gotten hard for, but we all know how strung out this dude gets at even relatively normal shit. so much so that benrey will just stare at him blankly and ask "uhhh, stop moving please? thank you?" b/c gordons so handsy ordinarily and he keeps trying to move his hands when he talks)

> listen. what if he....absentmindedly like...pet. him. on the stomach. just doing the motion cause it soothes normal dogs so when he feels gordon squirming he strokes heavily down. repetitive...but hes not even focusing on that, hes like intent on getting the part hes trimming just right gordon freezes up and stops breathing for a second to flush all over. benrey’s hand is so hot on his stomach, and he can only focus on how good it feels,

> squirmy because he feels like he’s gonna die if his dick doesn’t get touched and all his instincts are screaming to disobey and hump benrey into the ground (not like he physically can with the restraints but)

eventually benreys gonna have to get down to brass tacks and shave and trim all of him

> and like the whole time. the whole goddamn time gordons just in his boxers absolutely throbbing with it and like. benrey's hand moves to his stomach and like the waistband of his boxers. yeah. all of him.

can you imagine. gordon freeman desperately trying not to be horny while his best friend kneels between his legs and hooks those fingers in his waistband and starts peeling them off and completely fucking failing at it but hes still gotta try, right. whether hes cis or trans this idiot is so horny that his underwear is just. ruined

> i still cant stopr thinking abt. in the pictures you drew jordan. the way benrey is. delicately touching gordons dick/pussy to get a better angle for shaving

Y. YEAH. ITS POTENT. IMO. gordon having to pretend like hes not fucking horny in the slightest while benrey just kind of clinically moves his dick around and laughs at him when it twitches......ITS A LOT.

> the amount of willpower gordon is exercising not to fuck up into benrey’s palm when he’s loosely holding his dick to shave all the hair around it is honestly impressive

hes trying so fucking hard. hes shaking. look at him. tail thumping weakly against the table

just......like......i was thinkin about benrey getting gordon stripped bare while he stammers and rambles because he is so very fucking turned on right now and hes so embarrassed by this that he just stares firmly at the ceiling and humiliates himself ranting about how its a totally normal response and plenty of guys get erections during prostate exams and benrey has no idea what the fuck hes talking about

> this was th. part. ...benrey ignoring his boner and his rambling like "yeah alright. stay still for this part though for real" and gets to work. gordon absolutely mortified but hes breathing real shallow cause he doest want to get nicked here of all places so. and benrey placing a hand on his thigh to push them open further so that he can get a better angle and gordon's leg shakes. its quiet until benrey says to himself "'youre bein still. 's good." and gordon's dick visibly twitches at that and he shuts his eyes quickly and turns his face away. also i was still thinkin,,,,bout how the little praise straight up goes to gordon's head and his tail might also thump a lil faster on the table.

> would benrey notice? probably. maybe not say anything at first but just let a real evil smirk spread on his face, laughing a little. and then say lowly when hes focused on his work, "really like that huh. lil dogboy. you like being good?" and gordon lets out a harsh breath, stomach jumping. doesnt respond but his tail moves even faster. benrey's wrist brushes the head of his dick and he lets out a small sound, which turns strangled then he actually takes his hand and presses his dick to the side so he can get right below his stomach. its detached, hes just holding it pressed to the crease of his hip, but gordon's dick throbs under his palm and dribbles precome against the gloved fingers

> Okay, so, part of the grooming process is, of course, bathing the dog. And luckily, Benrey has a wonderful tool to help him with this. A hand-held shower hose with a lovely little shower head with very nice settings to help our little showdog get... clean.

> Imagine, if you will: Gordon, on all fours and chained up to keep him upright as Benrey slowly, methodically, wets him down. Lathers him up. Works his hands all over his body, from tail tip to the top of his head. Massaging into his belly. Rubbing inside his thighs. Cleaning every part of him. Every part.

> And the shower head occasionally dips down, pulsing, right to a sweet spot between Gordon’s legs, the closest thing he’s got to attention the entire time they’ve been playing this game. He’s so close, so GODDAMN close to getting what he wants, but every time Benrey realizes he’s getting somewhere... ... He moves it. To spray his back. His head. His chest. Anywhere but where Gordon wants it.

> Gordon is shaking. His legs are trembling, the table is wet and slick. He’s having such a hard time staying up on all fours, he’s panting and begging and losing his footing and EVERY TIME he loses his footing, well, the collar and chain choke him and force him right back up. And Benrey is just watching. Grinning.

> Waits for him to get his composure.

> And does it again.

just......like.......jesus. gordon would be. shaking. his whole body. panting like a dog. trying so hard to stay still. but he keeps trying to spread his legs wider when benrey reaches his thighs and he keeps slipping and accidentally choking himself and hes nearly at the breaking point trying to keep himself together but benrey runs a big, warm hand along his side and makes a passing comment on what a good boy hes being and gordon almost fucking yells from how overwhelmed he gets

i want gordon freeman fucking obliterated. i want him to suffer first from benrey jerking him around and then being made to jerk himself around, trying and failing to keep his shit together.....and when benrey tells him sumn like, hey no, dont lay down........even if your arms and legs are shakin, you gotta stay up bro.......its so fuckin demeaning and gordon just spits out "im trying!" and benrey buries his free hand in gordons hair like hes gonna tug in retaliation, but instead he just scratches gordons scalp in a way that feels really fucking good and asks "you gonna bite? huh? gonna bite me? when im treatin you so nice......jeez, man" and that takes him back from the brink a little

hes just always keeping gordon on his toes. switching settings. dragging it out and making gordon shake from head to toe, sometimes putting on one of those real powerful pulsing jets to overstimulate him and make gordon yelp and just work him up into a trembling mess struggling to stay upright. snarling in ugly frustration when benrey yanks the showerhead away just as gordons starting to Get There. it feels like it must have been hours that hes been being bathed like this and teased from occasional glancing sprays with the waterhead to direct stimulation while benrey chuckles at him and just blandly comments "youre shaking." and gordon stammers out hotly "of course im fucking shaking, you keep fucking with me and i just wanna--" and benrey takes him by the chin and makes gordon look up at him and says, laughing at him under his breath, "dogs dont talk, bro"

ike.......at this point u might think "surely thats enough. throw the guy a bone." and that maybe, now, gordon freeman will get his dick touched like he deserves. you owuld be wrong. benreys not done here. gordons gotta come down from that table, get toweled off. and when benrey unclips that leash from the table, gordon just fucking collapses. his arms and legs cant really hold him up right now......hes being strung out like a violin, drawn to maximum tautness before being let go all at once just before he snaps.

and this is where benrey plays a little nice.......dries him off and blowdries him a little, brushing out his hair and his tail. hes committed to the bit, okay? he said he was gonna make his best bro look nice, so hes gonna make gordon look nice. this whole time hes letting gordon come back down.....and its......its kind of frustrating, if benreys just gonna decide to leave him like this and drag him outta here and call that the end of the game, but its not the worst thing in the world right now. for the first time in hours hes not being asked to do something. he doesnt even really have to move his own arms and legs.

but No. hes still not done. theres something theyre forgetting........gotta clip your nails, bro. its the last thing on benreys docket, and gordons embarrassed for a different (but taxonomically similar) reason. all the personal attention and the bizarre intimacy of it makes gordons mouth start running, just to get his mind off it. pretend to be normal! surely thats gonna work when the guy who nearly gave him a nervous breakdown from being edged and toyed with beyond belief is now at his feet, filing nails and running curious thumbs over the tendons and muscles. benreys almost more lost in it than gordon is at this specific point. (hes been doing nothing but jerking gordon around and its hard work. he deserves this.)

gordons been good. really fuckin good. didnt even nip his fingers. benreys best friend deserves a treat.

> look. hes been so fucking good the whole time. not moving and not touching himself, not breaking the tension they have with each other, staying so still. i think he deserves something nice. but like gordon doesnt expect it, he expects to just be jerked around and let go. benrey tells him to stay on the table and he complains about it like "im done now. you. you said we were done" but benrey comes back with a fresh pair of gloves and gordon tenses until benrey places a hand on his chest and tells him to calm down. he was good. rubs at his chest and stomach, slowly pushing him down onto the table while gordon squeaks when benrey parts his legs. hes mostly soft now but he hears benrey doing something and then rubbing a slick finger around his hole and he lets out a little "oh god. oh god. " that turns into a moan when he presses in.

> gordon's calmed down a bit but its goddamn embarrassing how quickly he gets wet again, dick throbbing a little. and i think. hm. i think it would be very fun to do overstimulation in this way now too since hes been edged so much that hes actually fucking desperate to come

> i think he should be be fingered until he howls and comes like 3-4 times. he's finally finally getting what he wants i dont know if he would know what to do. hes probably embrassed as all fuck from the way he acted that whole time, but when he starts getting fingered all that stuff just blanks from his mind and its so, so hard for him to not just chase that feeling and whore himself out. the opportunities for whoredon dialogue when hes that desperate are like saying shit hes cant even think about like "god - please f- fuck." and benrey's only got one finger in him but hes so wet already that benrey tries a second and it slips in easily. he crooks his fingers and gordon fucking keens, thighs shaking.

the fuckin. the agony in his voice when hes hoarsely begging benrey "do not stop do not fucking stop i cant take it" and just. slamming his fist into the table and being so fucking loud, oh my god, this guy is loud

> the thought of how loud he would be crazed me im just. just. him laying on the fucking table, eyes shut tight and moaning high and loud while he pulls tightly on his own hair, clenching hard around benrey's fingers

i think it would just be cool if. uhh. the thing that finally breaks gordon. gets him to just Let Go. is benrey catching him trying to choke back his words and his sounds and just laughs at him, like, "this is the easy part man. you wanna be a good dog? better, uhh.....better beg. cmon, boy. beg." and gordons hips jerk and the subsequent praise he gets when he actually does it makes him just.......snap.......Bye

> and what if.......benrey doesnt remove them as gordon comes down from that. he just waits a few seconds while gordons still panting and then scissors them and wrings a strangled sound out of gordon, whos hips move down again. and the heat starts building again in his gut and he cant even get out full sentences anymore, just bits and pieces while he fucks onto benrey's fingers. m. maybe benrey's growling out shit like "thats it, cmon. been good for me all fuckin day. you want more?" and gordon nods his head without even looking but he hears a thump and sees benrey kneeling between his thighs and he. licks up from where his fingers are to his clit and he just seals his mouth on it and sucks and that makes gordon come a second time, thighs clamping shut around benrey's ears.

i just......i lvoe......overstim.......and i think gordon freeman should have his pussy eaten until he cannot fucking take it anymore

maybe......even.......maybe after gordon comes a second time. benrey doesnt stop sucking and licking. at first it seems like benreys just working him thru the orgasm, but then he just keeps going. and gordons sensitive, hes too fucking sensitive, each time benreys tongue swipes over him he jerks and tries to close his legs. frantically gasping that he did it, okay, he got gordon off, voice getting high and broken, but benrey just pulls back and looks at him flatly and then very deliberately. spreads his legs wider in one swift movement. and pins them with his big fucking hands. and just looks him in the eye and says "i know, dude" and puts his mouth right back on gordon anyway. and gordons legs twitch like fucking mad but benreys so strong and he cant move and hes slamming his fist on the table again from how overwhelming it is, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, howling into the open air how benreys killing him, hes fuckin killing him, why does he like jerking gordon around so much........and benrey glances up and breaks the seal of his mouth around gordons dick and mutters something about how he must not be doin his job if gordons still talking

i want him to howl wordlessly with frustration and grab benreys hair and yank him closer as gordon rounds the corner from "the agony of getting sucked off when hes hyper-sensitive" to "the agony of chasing yet another orgasm". i want this dude to be tonguefucked until he wails!!! I Want Him Ruined. meat: massacred. pussy: destroyed. i think it would be cool if gordon freeman was wailing at him for more, dont stop, benrey, until benreys got two big fingers back in him and is squeezing in a third alongside them and hes so fucking tight from having just come twice in a row, but the groan gordon lets out when its finally inside him is so guttural and low it makes benrey blink and shiver

and i think that for the grand finale benrey should smash that dogboy pussy. thanks for coming to my TED talk

hes been going thru this shit for hours. taking his time to really screw gordon freeman up good. and its been so fuckin worth it just to hear all the fun new sounds gordon made (cuz of him, he reminds himself). benreys been awkwardly adjusting his dick in his pants for way too fucking long, and gordons been watching him do it. staring at it. saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth. he was achingly hard the whole time he was giving gordon a glorified pedicure. and he didnt even ask to shift forward from where he was kneeling to let the arch of gordons foot press against his dick. its been just as hard for benrey to keep control and stick to the rules of the game as it has been gordon, and this dude oughta get to crush mad pussy okay

> the thought of this is kinda making me insane actually so. im just. h. im just thinking about how it would go down like. augh. i think that gordon would be shaking from his third consecutive orgasm but like. he can keep going. and he finally gets a moment to breathe and look at benrey whos just a mess. hair messed up where gordon gripped it, red faced, mouth dripping with his own drool and gordon's slick and hes remembers like. this guys so fucked up over this, god. and hed been thinking about his dick the whole time, even though he thought he wasnt gonna get anything out of it for a while. hes been wanting it. and so like like he doesnt want to play any more games. hes been good he deserves this.

> benrey's still got three fingers in him so he kind of just pushes him back and breaths out "fuck me". benrey's actually absolutely dazed from everythin and has to process it like "huh. wh" but gordons like "just fucking do it, cmon. im not gonna say it again" and benrey finally actually registers it like. "y-yeah. okay." and he barely has any time to think before gordon's hauling him up onto the table. starts fumbling to get his pants and shirt off and gordons practically tearing at his clothes which doesnt fucking help. letting out little growls maybe like "fucking. jerking me around this whole time fuck you. can see how much you wanted it" and they finally manage to get them off and gordon pulls him on top and ruts against him. its finally now clicking for benrey that fuck. this is actually happening and he pushes into him with a low sound and gordon's thighs and tail go still and taut until he bottoms out. gordon's fucking panting and clenches down on him and they both let out a little sound and benrey starts fucking into him slow. but cmon. this dudes been pent up the whole goddamn time. its barely any time before hes gripping gordon's hips and fucking up into him fast and hard, hips slapping against gordon's at a desperate pace. he probably tries to make it last but he cant, hes been edging himself too long. im going to fucking die see ya everybody

thinking about just how fuckin bad benreys legs would shake from the effort of pushin in reaaalll slow b/c gordons so fucking tight after having gotten off 3 times in a row.......trembling from the effort of trying to hold himself back......and gordons nails digging into the back of his neck and dragging down his back to leave long red furrows behind....... gordons eyes screwed tightly shut while the only thought on repeat in his head is "oh my god hes big hes so fucking big" and he can barely fuckin speak

> like yeah he had three fingers in him but this is so goddamn much. thinking about...gordon's hands clawing into back involuntarily from the stretch, letting out little cut off pants while his legs shake a little from it. i just. like the thought of his tail pointing out stiffly and trembling too. the absolutely wrecked sound he would let out when he bottomed out, all of that tension kind of leaving him in a drawn out deep moan. benrey shifts just a little to get a better grip on gordon's thighs and it causes him to yelp a little cause its so fucking much just from that movement.

> benrey's trying not to move but his hips are twitching from holding himself back and gordons letting out little. sounds that are making him insane. he pulls out just a little and that makes gordon let out a whine. and when he pushes back in gordon lets out breathless "fuck!" like its been punched out of him. even going this slowly is making him fucking shake like a leaf. hes squeezing his eyes shut tight heaving deep breaths, chest rising and falling fast. hes so full be can barely think. and benrey's just fucking stupid with cumbrain and hes saying all kinds of filthy shit like "h - fucking - so fucking good for me. so good. nnh. best. best friend -" and that makes gordon let out a whine. the praise has been getting to him the whole time and just. again with the loaded phrase of best friend. like the possesiveness of that. that combined with the near-overstimulation of getting filled makes him actually kind of lose it. his thighs clamp around benreys hips and his toes curl and pulls benrey's hips forward to make him thrust into him, so he stop going slow. bye. goodbye

#asky #writin stuff #Good bye

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dontshouta · 5 years

Text

elegant obscenities

summery: Your tattoo session which you’ve had scheduled for months has finally arrived and you finally get to meet the man everyone’s speaking so highly of. pairing: tattoo artist!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 3,799 note: modern au! also,, this is ns*fw so please… if ur not into that... just look away alsoalso, my tattoo knowledge is very limited.. im goin based on what ive seen on t.v or what ive read.. soo sorry if anythings wrong lol i dont have the heart to do extensive research on it atm but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

To say you were excited was a massive understatement. You felt like your heart was gonna burst from how quickly it was beating, your stomach felt like the den of a thousand butterflies, and yet you couldn’t wipe the huge smile plastered on your face. Today, you were going to see what all the fuss was about. Today, you were getting your first tattoo from the King of Tattoos himself-- Bakugou Katsuki. Just the mere thought of it shot a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You’ve heard so many reviews on this guy, you’ve seen his beautiful works on yelp, you’ve seen the clean and cut format of the parlor’s website- he was no joke. Though, his reputation seemed flawless, people did seem to not like his attitude. But of course, that would be ultimately overlooked, his work was just that good.

As excited you were, you were equally nervous. You didn’t know if you could sit through an hour session of what could possibly be him yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. Or at least, that’s what some people have claimed to have happened. You wanted to remain optimistic though, and decided not showing up would be a waste of everyone’s time.

So, with determination and excitement fueling your resolve, you entered the tattoo parlor. You were greeted by an eager redhead, who smiled when you told him of your appointment.

“Oh yeah! Well, Y/N, if you could read over these papers and sign ‘em, Bakugou’ll be ready for you when your done!”

You took the clipboard with a smile and sat down. For a moment, you just stared at the words, not really reading them and letting the paper blur. You only hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the pen and firmly filling out the forms. You couldn’t possibly back out now, you’ve waited months for this opportunity! Just because some reviews said he could be a scary guy, psh, from what you’ve seen from the redhead, he couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? Just as you signed your last signature, someone cursed at the end of the hall.

“Shitty-hair! Is that client here yet?! I’m not gonna fuckin’ wait all damn day!”

You froze in your seat, your eyes watching the redhead as he rolled his eyes.

“She’s here, dude, chill.”

You gulped, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the papers again. Was this guy serious? He sounds like he could up and kill me with his tattoo gun! The redhead laughed, taking in your pale figure and offering a calming smile. You relaxed the slightest bit.

“Ah, don’t mind him. He’s all bark and no bite, you’ll be fine. It’s just a tattoo after all!” He laughed again, trying to get you to ease out of your frightened position. “Are you done filling those out? If you could hand me your I.D you’ll be all set!”

You nodded mutely, handing him your I.D and clipboard. His reassurances should’ve placated you but why were you so damn tense? Was the reality of getting a tattoo settling into your bones and immobilizing you? You let out a deep sigh, deciding it’s now or never, hostile artist or not, he still was the best of the best.

The redhead, Kirishima he said was his name, handed you back your I.D and beckoned you to follow him down the hall. The closer you got to the room, the quicker your heart beat. You were so nervous, so excited, you didn’t know what to do with the plethora of emotions surrounding you. With a deep breath, you entered the room behind Kirishima.

The room was covered in art and designs of the past on the walls, fat binders lining bookshelves and a desk spilling over with sketches and unfinished line work. You could tell just from the room alone the experience Bakugou’s had. The tattoo table sat in the corner, laughing at your hesitance, which almost had you running for the hills at the mere sight of it. The air smelt sterile, and you took a deep breath again to try and calm your jolting nerves. Just as you did, the air caught in your throat when you finally laid eyes on your tattoo artist. His eyes were an angry red, brows set in a frown as he appraised your form. You were frozen at the door, not quite able to tear your eyes away. No one mentioned anything about how hot he was! Feeling very deceived by the reviews online, you shimmied yourself fully into the room, all the while staring at the famed Bakugou Katsuki.

“Took you long enough.” He grumbled with a click of his tongue, strong, impossibly tattooed arms crossed over a built torso. He wore a black tank top, not leaving much to the imagination and wore watching black jeans, which hung delectably low on his hips. Now you weren’t sure if you could sit in the same room as him for a completely different reason.

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Dude, she’s early. Impatience is so not manly.” He huffed, walking out of the room, giving you a thumbs up and smile on the way out.

Now you were left alone. With an insanely attractive man whose hands and eyes were going to be all over you for the next hour. Your earlier hesitance in the matter all but withered away and was replaced with a newfound excitement.

You waved awkwardly, smiling slightly. “Um, hi, I’m Y/N! I’ve heard so many great things about you!” You greeted, hoping you didn’t seem overly eager. Now with your resolve restored tenfold, you wanted to get off on the right foot. His temper still looming over your head dangerously.

He clicked his tongue again, eyes roaming over your figure. “You better have, I don’t run this fuckin’ business for nothin’.” He mumbled, motioning for you to sit at that tattoo table while he prepared.

You watched him eagerly, eyes following where he slapped on his latex gloves. You drank in the way his nimble fingers worked with his equipment, sending you head reeling from thoughts of what else they could do. Goodness, this is embarrassing. Get yourself together, Y/N! You can’t be getting yourself all hot and bothered, this is a professional environment! And with that, you averted your eyes and focused them on your twiddling thumbs.

“So’re you gonna take your pants off or what?” He finally asked, eyes slanting in passive anger at you.

“Wh- huh?!” You exclaimed, almost falling off the table in pure shock. Take off my pants?? Has he noticed my staring? Wait- can he read my thoughts?!

“I can’t tattoo your thigh over you pants, you know. Idiot, you should’ve worn shorts or somethin’.” His voice was laced with superiority as he chastised you, making your thighs clench unconsciously. You were not going to survive this session.

With flaming cheeks, you stood from the table, hands poised over the button of your jeans.

“R-Right.. Well um, would.. Would you mind turning around or something?” You asked quietly, the blush on your cheeks traveling to the rest of your face as you stared into his red eyes. Which he rolled.

“I’m gonna see you half naked anyway, just take your pants off so we can get this shit over with.” He commanded, a brow raised haughtily as he sat on the stool next to the table.

Now, you really didn’t think this through. You’d hoped he’d find you half naked in different circumstances, but here you were, jeans pooling around your ankles in contempt while the flush seemed to travel throughout the rest of your body. How could you forget that you wanted this stupid tattoo on your thigh? At first, you didn’t think anything of it, believing you wouldn’t be attracted to your artist. Fate had other plans though, and made your artist the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You stepped out of your jeans, mumbling begrudgingly as you scooped the mass of fabric from the ground. Once you straightened up, you made eye contact with Bakugou. For a split second, it looked like he was staring at you ass. If you were bolder you might’ve said something like “Like what you see?” but instead, you shook your head, finding the notion preposterous as you sat back onto the table with curses being muttered under your breath.

“It ain’t my fault you wanted the damn tattoo on your thigh, no need to get all bitchy with me.” That comment might’ve brought down his attractiveness to you by about one percent, so any response that you had died in your throat once he started cleaning the exposed area on your thigh. Your lips were zipped tight, trying your absolute best and then some to keep any peep from coming out of your mouth.

The breath that had been stuck in your chest finally escaped from your body once Bakugou pulled away, reaching for the readied transfer paper. You eyes softened at the sight of the design of your tattoo, heart fluttering at the way Bakugou had rendered it.

“It looks beautiful.” You whispered, smile blossoming on your face as he applied the transfer to your thigh, momentarily forgetting your qualms about the damn artist’s proximity.

He hummed in response, clearly denoting an I know in his wake as he removed the transfer paper. “Look in the mirror and tell me it looks good.” He commanded, his tone clearly indicating he already knows it looks good. Probably just wants me to stroke his ego some more.

You got up anyway, not wanting to disobey him, and checked out the art that was going to be permanently etched into you skin in an hour’s time. “It’s perfect.” You breathed, checking yourself out in the mirror with renewed excitement. When you turned back, Bakugou’s eyes flickered up from your thigh to your eyes. He cleared his throat, motioning you to sit back on the table with a flick of his wrist.

“Duh, I strive for nothin’ but perfection.” He said, gloved hands patting the table impatiently.

Was that… a blush on his cheeks? Your heart rate accelerated, smile growing as you skipped back onto the table. “I don’t doubt it, Bakugou! Alright, now tat me up!” You were giggling happily, legs spread onto the table before the young artist, which, unbeknownst to you, had his heart rate going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, yeah.”

With that, he leaned into you inner thigh, one hand gripping onto the soft flesh while the other poised the tattoo gun over it.

“Brace yourself, it ain’t the most comfortable feeling in the world.” He warned, barely giving you any time to actually do so before getting to work.

A gasp escaped from your lips once you felt the tattoo gun connect with your skin, not necessarily in pain but to your horror, in pleasure. You bit your lip, trying to seem nonchalant but in all reality, heat was rushing to your core and you started to feel your body temperature rise considerably. You couldn’t really blame yourself, an attractive man’s face was inches from your barely concealed vagina while he gripped your thigh. How could you not get turned on? What was really going through your head though, was how you were going to distract yourself. You couldn’t possibly think about him and only him this entire time, right? He’d probably catch on and kick you out or something. You wouldn’t be able to stand the embarrassment that would come with that.

While you did try to keep your mind occupied, you couldn’t help but watch the artist at work. His tongue slightly poked out his lips every now and then. Sometimes he’d blow out a breath which would hit your thigh deliciously and send you head spinning. He’d squeeze your thigh and maneuver it this way and that to get a better angle. Every little thing had your heart racing, your thighs needing to clench, your core needing some damn friction. You were, to put it lightly, going fucking insane.

Bakugou suddenly pulled back, his face screwed up in an expression you couldn’t place. An agitated groan escaped his lips while he made aggressive eye contact with you.

“Wh- ar-are you done-?!” Your eyes flickered to the unfinished tattoo, your expression turning confused when you met his eyes again. “What-?”

He shoved himself onto you, pupils blown wide with arousal. “You know what you’re doin’, huh? Don’t play dumb with me you’ve been acting like this since you walked in here.. You know how hard it is to fucking concentrate when I can just smell how wet you are? Huh?” He all but growled, eyes glued to yours while his large hands gripped your waist possessively.

You took in a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to watch his body hover impossibly close to yours. A sweat had built around Bakugou’s temples, body slightly shaking with restraint as he gathered your next reaction.

“Fuck.. you can’t blame me, can you?!” You yelled, hands gripping onto his strong biceps. “You’re over here gripping on my thigh and breathing on my coochie, how the fuck am I supposed to react?”

Your response shocked him, but was enough to confirm any suspicions he had and he immediately clashed his lips with yours. You melted instantly, hands roaming up to grip at his sandy hair roughly. Teeth clashed, tongues melded and fought for dominance, breath coming in hot and heavy as your bodies melted into each other. Bakugou was already hard against your thigh, member pulsing through his jeans and prodding closer and closer to your dripping core.

You moved to wrap your exposed legs around his waist but was shoved roughly back onto the table, Bakugou breaking the heated kiss and roaming down. His hands left a trail of fire on your exposed skin, causing small, broken mewls to slip to your lips while he pushed your top over your breasts, his eyes drinking in your heated form greedily.

“Fuck baby you look so good like this. I’ve barely even touched you and you already look fucked out, all for me huh?” He purred obscenities into your ear, a shiver wracking through your body at his words. His hands barely skimmed over your bra, your breath held in anticipation as he slowed his rough mannerisms to admire your breathless body. A low growl emitted from the back of his throat, his hands pushing your bra down to expose your chest, your nipples hardening immediately in the crisp air. Deft, tattooed fingers toyed with your breasts, red eyes burning into your own as he watched you writhe underneath him, your legs rubbing together incessantly to try and gauge at least the tiniest amount of friction you could get.

You whined needily, fingers fisting into his hair as you tried to connect your barely concealed pelvis with his.

“Nuh, uh, baby girl I’m gonna need you to be patient, yeah? Can you be patient for me?” His tone was laced with such dominance you were rendered speechless, a nod of your head indicating you understood what he was implying.

“No, that ain’t gonna cut it sweetheart, use your fucking words or else I’m stoppin’ right here, when we’ve barely even gotten started.” His fingers gripped your chin, forcing your gaze onto his.

“Y-Yes, sir..?” You were hesitant with the addition of the title but a hum of approval resonated from the tattooed man that had you relaxing back into the table again. Your eyes watched his every move while he lowered himself closer to you, a feeling of desperation slowly gnawing at you. His hands roamed every inch of exposed skin, from the apples of your cheeks down to your pelvis, his fingers toying dangerously with the waistband of your delicate panties.

Just as you thought he was gonna grant you at least some relief, his fingers skimmed past the waistband completely, ignoring the removal of the tiny article of clothing and instead moving to push a tattooed finger against your core teasingly. A gasp escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his bicep for dear life, the tiny amount of contact overwhelming you.

He chuckled dangerously, his face moving to hover over your clothed heat, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

“Oh, please, just fucking touch me, Bakugou.” You seethed, your patience growing incredibly thin. You wanted to reach for his wrist and just make him touch you yourself but you didn’t want to push your luck, having already yelled at the man already.

He laughed at your command, his hands moving to grip your hips while his tongue poked out of his mouth to gently prod at your panties. An eloquent oh fuck rolled out of your mouth, his hands gripping harder as his tongue lightly grazed over your clothed cunt.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?” He murmured against your wet panties, his eyes lazily gazing up at you. The sight of his face buried in between your legs had you shaking, the hands in his hair impossibly tightening while you tugged him closer to you.

“Bakugou, please, please, please, eat me out I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fuck me so-!” You cut yourself off with a hearty moan, his fingers snatching your underwear to the side and delving his tongue into dripping core. One of his hands massaged your hip, while the other snaked to toy with your entrance. You were already gasping for breath, legs spasming against his head while he dug himself deeper into you. His tongue laved other your clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking it hard. The juxtaposition of movements drove you mad, your head falling back against the table with your back arching, you hips bucking into his mouth greedily. His finger finally pushed into you, the combination of his thrusting finger and suckling lips pushing you further and further towards the edge.

All too soon, the friction was gone just as you felt your climax rush over you, causing a shriek of disapproval to sound from you. Your head was up in a flash to shoot a look of desperation to the teasing man. His gaze shook you to your very core, almost undoing you just then, with eyes completely clouded over with unadulterated lust. He smirked, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. A whine emitted from your throat, the display downright lewd and having you begging for more.

“Baku-”

“Call me Katsuki, darling.”

“Katsuki, please.”

And with that statement, his tank top was off. His pretty fingers worked to smoothly take off his belt and pants, the mere sounds of the rustling clothes bringing more excitement in between your legs. You crawled toward him, moving to help but he quickly pinned you back down onto the table.

“Now, now, let’s not get too hasty. I plan on fuckin’ that pretty pussy of yours real good, yeah? Don’t you worry that pretty little fuckin’ head of yours.”

Bakugou picked you up with ease, flipping you around and bending you over so your ass was up in the air for him to lay a resounding smack onto it. He hummed while you whined desperately, his abusing hand rubbing the skin immediately to soothe the reddening cheek. You legs felt wobbly, barely able to keep yourself up for him. He was rubbed languid strokes against his angry cock, angling it towards your entrance and prodding at it coyly. He tapped the appendage against your folds, chuckling as your hips bucked up against him. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes dark and dangerous as he started to shift his hips forwards to meet yours. You watched the muscles in his beautifully inked stomach flex as he moved, the feeling of slowly being filled just too good.

Once he was fully inside you, you gasped hotly, trying to accustom yourself to the sensation of being so thoroughly stretched out. His eyes watched attentively, flickering from your stretched hole and to your face. He moved his hips back tortuously slow, setting a pace so agonizingly good that you could barely open you mouth without moaning desperately.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You half-sobbed, clinging to the table for dear life as he rocked into you. He moved to hide his face against the back of your neck, latching onto the juncture of her shoulder and throat in a way that made you sure he would leave a mark. The feeling was almost too much– the slow drag of his cock inside you, the ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue on your shoulder, the quiet and low growls leaving his perfect lips– you were done for.

His large hands gripped your ass, alternating from hard gropes to rough slaps that resounded about the room and arousing you tenfold. Broken moans fled your lips, your fingernails scratching at the table hopelessly. His cock pulsed within you as he quickened his pace abruptly, his hand fisting into your hair and forcing your back to arch up into him. You cried out in pure glee, your breasts bouncing while he pounded mercilessly into you.

His hands held your hips in a bruising grip, the pain mixing deliciously with the absolute pleasure that was Bakugou’s pace. His lips were muttering obscenities into your ear, alternating from suckling your earlobe in between his teeth and littering your neck with pretty purple bruises. You have ascended, your mind gone due to this tattoo artist’s godly dick.

You were sputtering, moans never ceasing to escape from your lips as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, your body becoming hotter and hotter with every deep thrust. You felt your climax building, your walls clenching around his thick cock, causing him to curse into your ear.

His unoccupied hand snaking around your waist to rub quick circles into your clit, sending your body into overdrive and making you see stars.

“I’m go-gonna- oh my goodness- I’m gonna f-fucking come-!” Your body was on fire, your mind short-circuiting with the amount of pleasure wracking your body as you finally came. Your moans came louder with it, your body spasming against his still pistoning cock.

He came soon after, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he rode out his high within your overstimulated walls. Bakugou released your hair, your body falling limply onto the tattoo table. You were gasping for breath, his seed pooling out of your pussy and onto the table. His fingers circled your folds and gathered the come from it, holding them out in front of your lips.

“Now, be a good girl and swallow my cum, huh, princess?”

#i hope this is like... GOOD #i spent like two days on this #mainly bc im a pro procrastinator #ANYWAY #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #ns*fw

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voidselfshipp · 4 years

Text

Stay.

(Ok to rb)

Octane tapped his foot on the carpet waiting for his taxi to arrive.

The rest legends left half an hour ago and he was stuck in his dads party.

This was defenetly not his style, sure he was all about getting recognized and have fans around him, but not this kind,

He hunched and crossed his arms when finally his taxi arrived,he hopped in almost immediatly and grabbed his phone.

Jerico got a text suddenly as she layed in bed,the LED lights bounced off her skin as she saw a movie, she was laughing when she saw the Text.

Her smile turned into frown.

"Can I crash at your place?"

"Yeah...what happened?"

Octane types out the answer but deletes it "ill tell you when I get there,be there in 10"

He first went to pick up some food,almost getting stopped by a fan but avoiding them by a split second.

He then went to jericos home.

A knock interrupted the tombstone silence in jeris house,jer opened the door,and there he was.

The taxi left behind them as tav only sighed--Hey...--he said.

Octavio hugged her tightly and jerico hugged back.

He enters the house closing the door behind him and locking it.

Both sit on the couch and take out the food from the bags.

Octane took his mask and Goggles off, and sighed-- I was at my dads party--he said, and proceeded to tell her everything that went down.

Jeri listened with a heavy heart, and hugged him tightly when he finished--i I hate being near my parents, I hate going to their parties..

--Youre always welcomed to stay--jer added caressing his cheek.

Tav leans into her hand and nodds kissing the palm of it as his own hand pressed against jericos.

--Can I stay a couple of days?...I just want to be away from the limelight...and live...calmly here

--yeah, its going to be fun having you around,this house May not be as big ad your mansion but--

He stopped her midsentence cupping her cheeks--its perfect...just like you...

Jer chuckles and kisses him, he kisses back resting his back on the couch.

Her arms go around his waist and he melts in her embrace resting his head on her shoulder.

And slowly they doze off.

--buen día amor.

The smell of food invaded the livingroom,jeri slowly sits on the couch with octane, who hands her a Plate of food and freshly brewed tea.

--Thought youd be drinking coffee

He shrugged and Turned on the TV--i want to calm down so coffee is off the list--he winked at her and she giggled putting her head on his shoulder.

As he flipped through the Channels a news Channel popped up talking about the party octanes dad threw,and an interview with his father came shortly after.

Jeris hand is on the remote and she switches to cartoons.

A smile instantly appears on octavios face and he eats his breakfast.

--Thanks for letting me stay--he said with his mout stuffed with food.

She laughed and kissed his cheek--of course id let you stay,you deserve some peace too you know?

He smiled softly--im so glad to have you in my life...I love you

Jer smiled--me too...

The rest of the day sure was something, filled with music and laughter.

Jeri was cleaning the house as tavi cooked lunch.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead as she finished cleaning and went to the kitchen.

Her arms go around tavs waist, he instantly melts and presses his back against her chest.

She presses soft kisses against his neck--amor im making lunch...

--you love em though

He snorts and nodds--Yeah...anyway its ready lets eat!

Both take the food to the bedroom and watch a movie.

Hearing octanes laughter made jerico happy,he had gone through some stuff and he really did deserve this.

Jeri also fought for the peace she has now, and being able to share it with him, the love of her life was everything shed hoped for.

The movie ended and so after Washing the dishes they went to sleep.

Octane moved his legs and kicked off the blankets,jeri wakes up when she feels him moving around the bed.

--Cant sleep?--She asks.

--si,i cant get my body to stay still!

Jeri chuckled at the irony and so did he--Alright lemme try something--She cleared her throat and caressed his hair--Wanna hear a story?--He nodded like a little kid and she giggled-- a long time ago, in a kingdom long forgotten was a prince, charming and fast, he was very nice and everyone loved him.

One day he scaped to see the market and be amongst commoners in disguise, his eyes fell on a young woman buying food,she was beautiful and had a voice soft as any other.

He approached her, and suddenly someone recognized him as the prince.

The prince freaked out thinking that the woman would be extra nice to him to get something from him as everyone had done in the past.

The woman however kept her tone as it was before and invited the prince to drink tea with her.

And so for the following month hed sneak out to be with his one true love.

One day while holding his hand he asked her, deep un thought"Why didnt you treat me like loyalty when we met?" He said"why do you treat me so well knowing who I am"

The woman laughed softly " i Fell in love with the Man here" she said pressing a hand to his chest"and not by what he had"

The prince then understood and she saw him beyond his status as heir to the throne,she saw him by who he was truly, and loved him for it-- octane smiled kissing her.

--something tells me its you reminding me that you love me for who I am and not a bedtime story

--Mayyyybe...

Octavio snuggled closer to her and fell asleep in her arms.

The weeks went on and on, he had been missing from his social media for months.

One morning jerico was watching the news.

"The famous apex legend Octane has been found missing in his social media for months and his fans are panicked" the reporter said.

--hey amor?--jeri asked as Octavio sat besides her--i think you should tell your fans you okay

Stuffing his face with food he looked at her--Why?

She then signaled at the TV,he read the headline and nodded--oh shit,I should tell em, you want to appear with me?pleease?

She nodded kissing his cheek.

After eating breakfast they went to change and get into semi respectable clothes,just so they wouldnt appear on their cheesy pjs with cute animals and food stamped all over it.

--Hey guys Wassup!--octane said at his phones camera--just popped Back in for a bit to tell y'all ive been alright, just went off the radar for a bit!, but oh oh you wouldnt guess where im staying at!--The camera was at a slight angle so jerico couldnt be seen.

He them moved his phone to show jerico against his chest with a smiles--thats right ive been at my partners house!, isnt she the cutest?--jer hid her face on his chest with baby Pink cheeks muttering a soft "hiii!"--anyway Guys dont worry, as soon as I feel better ill be back!, for now peace!--his hand covered the camera and he stopped recording,uploading it to all his social media and then leaving his phone on the nightstand.

They changed back into their pjs and sat on the bed ready to watch more movies and spend Time togheter

She always made him feel loved and special,and life with her was easier.

When their eyes meet the world seems softer,and now they were in their own world of comfort.

Eventually hed had to return to his life as octane, but right now he was Octavio Silva,a Man who loved being with his partner, and was happy with them.

For once he could be himself,and have someone who loved him for it

#self insert #self ship #my f/os #self shipping #f/o x s/i #romantic f/o #f/o #f/o community #f/o fic #octane tag pending

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druid-for-hire · 5 years

Photo

UNSWAYED PT. III

(pt i) (pt ii) (pt iii) (you are here) (pt iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

this one’s got some revisions/retcons/refinings and new content. there will be some minor rehashing. this edition is more on the drama eurydice goes through on the path to find orpheus, orpheus’ deterioration in the Beyond, little bit of persephone and even littler bit hermes, finding orpheus, and finally getting to leave

thank you @supercantaloupe, @sonyalone, @unholy-boi, @s-aint-elmo, @ferretteeth for helping author this & help out w ideas and all!! sasha, u esp.

ok.

sits down and rests my old creaking bones in a rocking chair by the hearth and lights a pipe

gather round kids. this one might be a little long

one note:

on the same night that orpheus falls, persephone, when she finally composes herself enough, marches up to hades. the fury is still present in the vitriol with which she speaks. “you can’t have done that,” she says. “you can’t have just thrown him away. he didn’t sign any papers. you can’t make him work.”

“there were no papers,” he agrees, “but prisoners do not get papers.”

ok jumping back to kind-of-present

it’s taking a while to find orpheus. (too much of a while)

in between work and searching for him, both of which already take up so much of her time, eurydice... makes her attempts to craft a new guitar. hades took orpheus’. he’s going to either want it back or want a new one, and right now, she doesn’t think she can manage the first. it’s going to be important to their escape, she thinks, because she isn’t planning on staying in hadestown forever

but she’s not skilled, and making a real, good, balanced guitar is incredibly hard. she’s not trained. it never comes out good enough, never remotely close to a properly tuned instrument, much less the guitar that seemed to fit perfectly around orpheus' hands. and she doesn’t have a lot of time

so as it turns out, stealing back the original is the more feasible option

problem being: it’s a trophy. hades didn’t smash it, but it’s locked away with his other little “victories,” and he’ll notice it missing eventually

(those other trophies are other relics from other daring humans he’s had to deal with in the past. no one has come as close as orpheus)

but she does have more buffer time than usual because it's also a reminder of the martyr and the fact that his marriage is in the shitter so it's been put out of sight (and out of mind), so she's got a few days or more before he'd notice it's gone

as she keeps searching for orpheus, telling her story and getting help and word of her spreading...

eurydice stirs the town as the ladle stirs in the pot; out of all the feelings her story wakes, the most dominant—and most important—is the anger.

and for the first time, somewhere in some could-be-anywhere part of Hadestown, someone says no.

the age-old, unmoving, immovable hadestown, begins to... change. there’s persephone’s crack in the wall, and then there are others, and then they join, and then there’s unrest, and then there’s the threat of riot.

(which i know i already established but shhh im reiterating my point for this:)

unholy-boi: hades was at least formerly hands on enough to give orders, to scrape down new souls, to preach about the wall

now he locks himself in his office, head in his hands, unable to handle the idea that he’s losing control, and every MOMENT he spends locked away he loses control more, but he needs to think, he needs to think, he needs to think--

The fates are at his door, they sing horrible music, things he doesn’t want to hear, lies and twisted truths to manipulate the king. except he’s not being manipulated at all. this is all him, he knows it--this is just him and his paranoia and the workers' rage beginning to boil on his doorstep.

the god is hidden away in his office and hardly lets anyone in. he isolates himself and Persephone barely even visits this winter anyway.

he wonders if the martyr boy really did fail.

(no, he tells himself--he did fail, because his goal was to get him and his lover out, and now both of them are damned here forever. all of this? an unfortunate side effect.)

hades... was very nearly swayed by orpheus, but took his “obligation” to a city (that he’s already lost) over the slightly breaking voice of orpheus, and the rumors. however when he sent orpheus away, things only got worse. but how could he just crawl to pull orpheus back now? would that not be sacrificing his iron will? his grip of steel? how can he turn to go back if he’s already made his decision? moreover- how can he trust bringing orpheus back will fix anything at all?

a lamenting reprise from hades with orpheus’ guitar would be cool. i don’t know if it’d be in character or appropriate to the story but. its been a fun thing ive been tossing between my hands

it probably starts when he accidentally kicks it over--there’s a trophy room, but he hasn’t cleared a space for the guitar yet. he kicks it over, and when it hits the ground the strings hum Menacingly at him

after the song he puts it away--out of sight, out of mind

show them a crack.

and they’ll tear down the wall.

besides the immediate danger orpheus is in and his voice failing being drives to find him as soon as possible, eurydice also has to worry about the fact that persephone won’t be there to help her soon. the hadestown debacle happens on the onset of proper spring

persephone, for once, is grateful that hades keeps her late. it means she can help the lovers. for so many weeks she sends that boy’s voice on a wind straight for Eurydice to keep her going

but later is not never, and to the surface one day she goes, and bitter with the absence of his wife Hades drives them all to work harder

which strains Eurydice for time and energy even more

things are harder when she’s gone, as always—eurydice has less time to track him down, and without persephone’s sing-sing wind, pinpointing him is more difficult.

Hermes is there at the station to greets her when she returns to end the winter

“how is he doing?” “not well.”

“you think they’ll make it?” “i don’t know.”

hermes asks her, “how long?” how long will orpheus last? how long will it take for them to find each other and leave? how long will it take until hades finally snaps? persephone can’t answer any of them

(hermes knows, of course. but he has a role to play)

the summer roars to life on top, but persephone can’t stop thinking about the lovers underground. she knows that orpheus won’t make it through the summer. she sneaks down below for two weeks in june and in that time, a hurricane devastates the surface without her to control it.

the sing-sing wind returns with a straining melody and eurydice wonders. she’s grateful, but she wonders

and... one day it doesn’t. she feels the breeze, but there’s nothing on it.

nothing.

i’ve fucking had enough, eurydice decides. i’m stealing that fucking guitar, hades be damned.

in the sleeping hours of hadestown she sneaks her way up to the palace, dodging searchlights and finding havens, already at an advantage because she’s scoured Hadestown so long and made allies in so many places

and when she makes it up to the palace, the... the guards, the hounds, all of them are... either missing or intoxicated to shit. which is odd, she thinks, but doesn’t question it

she makes it to the trophy room (after a Lot of searching, because she doesn’t have a map)

she walks in and marvels in awe at all the trophies

she wonders about the histories behind all of them

to be honest, she doesnt know that this is where the guitar is, but it’s a pretty good guess (and the right one)

and then there’s a sound at the doorway. eurydice freezes. there’s nowhere for her to hide

she turns, and... it’s persephone in the doorway. persephone, who should not be here.

they lock eyes for a moment, and then she points at a locked case in the back of the room and keeps on walking. whistling loudly. a very “nope, nothing here at all” move

... well, works for her

eurydice breaks off the padlock, gets the guitar, and flees

musing on kampê for unswayed because i really dont want her to just be a two dimensional villain:

- homegirl is bitter. she used to rule the underground. she was the queen of the dark, and every god and titan knew her name, and hades did fear her too.

until. well.

and now she’s practically half-forgotten—a footnote. she hates it. hades and persephone are both her younger and yet they came into her realm, and she was shunted aside to this dismal little hole, and she has to answer to him and she fucking hates it. no mortal up Top or even in hadestown remembers her name. if an old dragon like her has no place out there... if she can’t make herself known in the outside world anymore, then she’ll fucking sear herself into the minds of the people she has, in the only way she knows how

(it should also be noted that homegirl is. unstable. i think kampê sort of violently switches between abhorrently vicious to weirdly sweet and manipulative and anywhere in between depending on the day/time/situation)

(also, she wasn’t always deaf. but being even older than the world, than hades and persephone, things... happen)

also, part of how she keeps everyone here is 1) working them to death and 2) telling them that they’re needed here, and that hadestown is an oasis of stability outside the chaos up Top

orpheus is not doing well.

orpheus forgets.

orpheus wears down.

(orpheus gets sick.)

whoops! That’s An Issue. but still he works, because no one can rest long, and the coal dust and ash and smoke and stifling heat do him zero favors

his focus drifts; he loses track of eurydice, of his songs. the work is first and foremost

you ever get worked so hard and pushed past your physical limit that u get like, spots in your vision and want to throw up? yeah thts orpheus

orpheus doesn’t stop sneaking off every day to the spot at the edge of the Beyond. he doesn’t sing out for help anymore, but... he sits, because he knows that it’s important. this place, where he sang out for a lover he doesn’t remember anymore with songs he no longer has

(cue Flowers but for orpheus, in quiet & faltering breathy lines)

he’s “forgotten a little thing called spring”

kampê still comes after him to drag him back to work. sometimes it’s wordless; sometimes she yanks him to his feet by the straps of his overalls, sometimes all she needs to do is put a hand on his shoulder and he’ll get up and shuffle back into the mines and smokestacks

other times she asks why he’s still doing this, why he’s still out there. other times she tells him that there’s no need to come out here anymore. he shouldn’t have in the first place. out there--it’s no better than here.

the times when she yells--few and far between, because fetching him is hardly much of a chore anymore--he winces, since it’s not like she has the finest grasp on volume control, being deaf

the scene we see is her sing-speaking some fucked up reprise of hey little songbird, beckoning him to come back and taunting him; i didn’t write this one out but i imagine there’s some fun things to be had with the “vipers and vultures” line

and orpheus sing/saying, in this cracked, hoarse voice, “I wanna lie down forever”

he’s. so tired

(also singing his voice, long since shredded, sorta finally collapses in this one and i don’t imagine him having another sung line after that)

the canary in the coal mine isn’t dead yet but he will be

eurydice goes into overdrive after she steals orpheus’ guitar back

(she strums a few notes on it, and it hums warmly of sunlight in her hands. her chest fills with something indescribable. god, she missed this)

she takes more risks. sneaks out farther and strays out farther. skips out on work, keeps cutting close, nearly gets caught more often than she did before

eventually. finally. finally, she finds him, almost unrecognizable in the crowd masses, but she catches him alone

and she calls out to him, her arm outstretched, “come home with me.”

so i’m going w the “recognize her right away one” and following what i wrote in the first post

BUT: the callback to “come home with me i” with orpheus’ forgetting in “come home with me” “who are you?” is Too Fucking Good and I ended up writing my own lyrics to a “Come Home With Me III”

i’ll post it somewhere. i’d link the google drive link here directly but then tumblr would nerf this post off of the hadestown tag.

you can play off of that if you want, toy around with it as a sort of small canon divergence to this au, but for the main one i’m rolling with what i already did in the first post... it’s unfinished btw there’s this small section i’m stuck on but i didn’t wanna delay this post anymore for something so minor

eurydice sees how much the beyond has ground him into the dirt—his eyes are sagging and half-lidded, dulled and shadowed and barely focused on her, miserable but too exhausted to feel

she sees this plenty in the ver. w/ Come Home With Me III before he remembers her, and for a moment in the other version before his eyes light up with recognition and suddenly it’s like some of the soot has sloughed off of him with the way his whole face lights up

also she shoves his guitar at him and he’s !!

it’s. horribly out of tune though. he’s tuning it while they talk a little

but either way: the steam whistle blows, the signal to get back to work, and orpheus is immediately lowkey fearful and trying to get back before kampê catches them

eurydie is completely “oh hell to the fuck no i JUST got you back after MONTHS of searching you are NOT leaving”

orpheus is just afraid of what kampê’ll do if she sees them together, he doesn’t plan on leaving her -- he doesn’t hand her back the guitar, after all

again, kampê isn’t the most stable

then uhhh Whoops they spend too long there and she catches them, a la Papers

cue panic

cue tousling w/ eurydice and somehow getting kampê still enough (probably w pinning) to try and listen to Orpheus and she's just waiting to kick his ass because no music is ever gonna sway her, boy

(the dogs get placated by a few chords plucked out)

he can't sing, but he plays

and the other workers listen, and are moved

they are moved by eurydice's act of coming here after him

by listening to orpheus sing of love

by listening to orpheus forget, and deteriorate

by having spent months listen to their love last and finally succeed with eurydice's arrival, this stalwart notion of hope

they didn’t ignore it. everybody knows the walls have ears

and they join by accompanying orpheus' song with the heavy metal sounds of the factories

they stomp, they clang, they turn grinding gears that crash and pound, in synchrony

(where the little wheel squeals and the big wheel groans)

it’s a percussive song that they make

more than a simple tune, a steady beat, more than just the music of machinery

it shakes the entire Beyond with the force of the determination of a thousand weary souls, of the hopeless regaining hope for the first time in centuries

Forced through the percussive force of the entire Beyond, implicit in its rhythm and shake, is the old song. all of this old and rusted metal, all of this harsh machinery, all of it singularly resonant in the notion of la, la la la, la la la

kampê feels it all through her feet and it rumbles in her chest, it shakes her to her very core and rattles her down to her bones, twists in her gut and forces in her fear and awe, and awe and wonder, and... something else

eurydice feels her loosen under her grip and backs off from pinning her and she still doesn’t move

at some point she lurches forward with her fist raised--orpheus doesn’t stop playing but he does shut his eyes, thinking oh god this is it, and eurydice rushes forward to pull her back

but she just... punches her fist into the ground by his feet

she feels everything not only through her feet but up her arm, more directly to her chest, to her heart, to her head

at last, swayed, feeling far more of something other than fear or anxiety or anger than she ever has in a long time...

she lets them all go

ok ngl there’s some blank spots here. i’m blanking here. idk how to transition

but

it's an entire exodus out from this tiny secluded part of Hadestown

The Great Beyond empties itself out and Kampê is left behind

the move is headed by Orpheus & Eurydice and the mood is very similar to the exodus from Egypt by the jewish folk in the movie Prince of Egypt

including the dark lighting, teal against the warm orange-yellow of their torches (lamps in this case), the wind, the craggy rock, everyone together, overall just the general tone

so during this walk from the Beyond to central hadestown with orpheus & eurydice more or less alone at the front is when Promises happens

it’s. a hell of a lot sadder here, but also a lot softer and more tender

orpheus’ lines are spoken like with Come Home With Me I / II coz he ain’t singin’ anymore. he can’t

and that’s the thing, he can’t sing anymore.

all those things he said in wedding song, all his promises--that his voice would convince the world to give them everything they need

orpheus... doesn't have that anymore, or at least not nearly as strong, or traditionally lovely as it used to be

his voice was cut into pieces from the nasty shit air in the places he was sent to work

all he has is his guitar, and while he’s good at it, his real strength is in his poetry--it’s his voice and his words that makes the rivers and the trees and birds sing along

the people of the Beyond may have been inspired to percussion by his guitar, but they were more swayed by the notion of their love that was built up over the past few months ever since he got banished

so like. to walk with eurydice and be by her side for as long as he lives, is really all he can really promise her at that point anyway

it's not even that he doesn't have anything and broke the promise that he’d sing them all they needed. he can’t even do that anymore

the voice that charmed her, that said he’d provide for her, is gone

would she love him now, he wonders, if the great poet can no longer sing

and many thanks to @sonyalone for contributing this:

he offers his devotion to her. the only thing he has that’s worth anything, the only thing he can do. and when he does hes so afraid that he'll see in her eyes the understanding disappointment, the pity and "i suppose so" that he fears, but he finally raises his head and he cries because her eyes are shining with joy and love and hope. thats all she ever wanted from him. she just wants to be with him, voice or no, amenities or no, and hes never felt so loved

he weeps, and she weeps--from grief and relief and love--and they hold each other close

sheltering under each other

and they have never been more secure in their love

he walked the whole length of the railroad into hell for her, he survived in the pit for her, she scoured the underworld for him, she came for him and she's keeping him

and the return of all these workers startles everyone in central hadestown and a lot of the work gets stalled out

which, of course, draws hades’ attention.

tune in next time for more on this shit ✌️

(pt i) (pt ii) (pt iii) (you are here) (pt iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

#hadestown #hadestown au #hadestown fanart #unswayed au #hadestown musical #my art #my work #look i KNOW the guitar is too small but also I don't care #edit 6/26/19: forgot to include some stuff re: the face-off with Kampe and Promises

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blackgirlblues · 5 years

Text

Being A Black Girl: And Chasing Your Dreams.. Yikes.

Hi,

It’s me, your resident black girl back with some new shit to rant about. I’ve been posting a few screenshots of short poems and paragraphs I’ve been writing on my phone as a way to heal and get over Capricorn boy from my last post on here and I see you guys like and reblog. Thank you for showing love, although it makes me sad that so many of you seem to be going through the same range of emotions I am. I’m sorry.

I know it’s a lonely place to be in.

But, on the bright side, I’ve got a lot of new followers joining the diary/manual/rant page that is blackgirlology and it’s nice cause I think it’s becoming a little bit of a community. So, in a way, were never really going through any of these emotions alone. If you’ve found this page-you’re part of a community. Bask in it.

Anyways, that aside, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you. I don’t know if any of you may remember, and for some new people this will be a surprise. But I’m actually a singer songwriter from Ireland. Moved to London a year and a half ago to pursue my music dream and that’s how I met Capricorn boy whos been the source of all my poems.

Throughout this time in between, I’ve been trying to chase my dreams, and chase them relentlessly. and this summer i did just that, let me tell you, what im about to tell you guys, is to put it simply, wild. I’ll just cut to the chase.

It all started in July. I’d been in London for quite a long time now, over a year and now have a manager who’s my best friend first and foremost. We’ll call her Maya. I met her in my first week of moving to London in the student halls I was staying at and we became best friends pretty quick. She studies music business, so it made sense and she just naturally ended up taking up the role as my music manager. Shes seen everything. The songs I wrote about Capricorn boy, the tears, everything. And she saw everything this summer.

I saw an ad for a record label opportunity in London. It was advertised on my university facebook page; a new indie label, looking for demo submissions for a competition they were setting up to find their new signee. I sent a screenshot to Maya who agreed I should send my stuff in. I did, they liked it, I got a meeting, we were sent terms and conditions for the competition. We signed it, the rest was supposed to be history.

Big yikes.

There’s so many layers to this story that I will be shortening it, just because it can get very draining for me to talk about or even write about. I’ve healed from it i think, but I still want to put it here and write it about to finally close that chapter and be done with my feelings about what happened to me and my music.

Basically, the whole competition, the record label, the dickhead CEO, it was all a scam. I had accidentally signed away the master rights to my new song to a record label started by a fake CEO who was committing fraud and known for tricking young artists into handing over their master rights so he could profit off of them, for power.

It was a mess. Another contestant told me and Maya when we were outside of their office. Just minutes before we were under the impression that I was doing an interview for Billboard Magazine. Honestly, I never truly believed it. Shit was too good to be true.

But she told us everything. How he was actually a run away from Spain, where he was caught and exposed for doing the exact same thing to artists there, how he didn’t have any money to fund the competition he had somehow roped all of us into, how he was illegally avoiding paying his team, how none of the creatives we had collaborated with for photoshoots etc were paid, how everything was a lie, how he didnt have any connections, and how he was trying to convince me specifically to sign a 360 deal with his label.

Which, guys, I’m not stupid. After the first week of being with the label for the competition and letting my song live through their disastrous marketing campaign, Maya and I long decided that regardless of what they said, I would not under any circumstances be signing anything with any entity of their company.

After being told the truth, I had to sit down. You see, when I came across this opportunity, I thought this was finally the life I’d been manifesting coming true. I had begun to grow in my spirituality and start journaling, writing down my manifestations, and getting to work with a record label who would later offer me a fair contract before I turn 20 was one of the manifestations I had written down every night before I went to bed. However, what I’d gotten was the exact opposite.

I remember, me, Maya, and 2 of the girls from the competition all stood around in a circle outside of their new office that the CEO also hadnt paid for wondering what our next move would be with this new information. There was still 2 other contestants inside who had no idea what was really going on was an elaborate scam. One of them wanted to go in and expose them on the spot. I said no, we had to go in and pretend like everything was normal until we figured out what to do afterwards.

So in I went, plastering the fakest smile on my face and pretended like I still thought I was about to be speaking with Billboard Magazine. Once I got out, I broke down in Maya’s arms.

I went home to my flatmates, Ellie and Bea and cried for hours before I had to go work a 7 hour shift at a pizza place.

I stayed in bed, and cried, and cried. and cried again. I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed too. The only people I talked too were my flatmates E and B and Maya.

Everything was sorted out eventually, a lot more happened, but as I’ve been writing this article for you guys, I realised that all of that stuff is no longer relevant to my journey and isnt something I want to bring back into my energetic circle because I’ve made peace with the fact that a lot of people who betrayed me when I was at my lowest, peace with the fact that these contestants who wanted to “work together” to get out of this mess, actually wanted to save their own asses and leave me in the cold.

But I still got out of it and I’m still here.

I nearly got sued by a man with less than 20 pound to his company account online, but hey, I’m here.

I guess why I’m telling you guys this really short account of my summer is to both record it for myself but also to say its okay to flop, its okay to fail. I did both this summer. and thank god i did. it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

following your dreams is scary, doing it as a black girl is terrifying because society has already kind of set you up to fail. there’s already misconceptions about what you do, who you are, where you come from and how good you’re going to be at what you do. its almost like we cant fail and we need to work 10 times harder to obtain half of what the average white person will get. and sometimes it can feel like we dont have any space to fail or make mistakes because of this but let me tell you thats not true.

if anything, the universe will put you in places that will force you to grow through the mistakes you make. and thats exactly what happened to me this summer.

i chased my dream so relentlessly i ended up in an environment i thought i manifested, i thought was good for me, only for the universe to show me that that specific environment i’d been wishing to be in is the furthest from what i need right now in my life.

this so called failure showed me that not everybody who smiles can be trusted, and that people can be way more deceiving than i ever thought, especially when push comes to shove and they need to save themselves. you start to see the real them when it starts to get tense. the people who seem to be around you when you’re doing good will most likely dissapear when things start to go south, including some of your oldest friends. you will get radio silence on their end. be upset. cry. but after that be glad that this situation revealed their true colours.

and then never put any more energy into them again.

this failure showed me how fucking strong i am. how resilient and kind i am even in the face of disrespect and actual evil. it showed me how much i can care for someone who i believe is at a risk of losing it all, and showed me that this will not always be reciprocated. and for a while i thought that meant that i had to harden myself up and grow a shell. but i dont think so. i will not allow the things ive been through to make me into a hard person when i was born soft. i mean now, im a little rough around the edges, jagged enough to cut anyone who comes too close with some of that bad energy, but soft enough to hold myself tight and glue myself back together when i need to. soft enough to hold the people who held me this summer. soft enough to help people who i know deserve it.

im a good person in a shitty world, i don’t need to match the world and become a shitty person to survive.

after all of this happened, i stopped writing music.

i haven’t written anything properly or produced anything in months and sometimes i get worried that ive completely lost my talent. but thats another thing that this failure taught me, i can never truly lose whats meant to be mine. i know that i was put on this earth to create change, to inspire, to be an activist and a voice for people who dont have one. i know i was put here to do it through a creative medium and right now i still think that is music.

i think i just need to stop being so scared to start again, to learn my craft again.

i used to be so scared of failure but now i am so thankful for it and the lessons its taught me. i had so much hurt and pain and hatred in my heart for the universe for, in my head, doing this to me. but then i realised that the universe never does anything to you, it does it for you. all of this happened in my best interest and while i definitely didnt understand at the time, i get it now.

thank you universe for the worst summer of my life.

and my black ass will be continuing to chase my dreams relentlessly, failing, tripping and falling on my ass until i get to the very top.

besides, if everything had just gone right, that wouldnt have been very interesting, would it?

#blackgirlology #black girl #black power #black love #black blogger #Black Blogs #music #blog #blogger #journal #journaling #diary entry #diary of a black girl #diary #dear diary #tumblr diary #dreams

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mirsfa · 6 years

Text

dangerously (iv)

Genre: Uhm. Kinda everything, from angst through fluff to smut Word count: 17k (i am so sorry) Pairing: Prince!Jaehyun x Mafia!Reader Warning: Cursing, underage smoking, drinking, use of drugs, even more cursing, smut in upcoming chapters. There’s a lot and I might have left some out oops. Summary: You were polar opposites. He was royalty, you were a criminal. You hated him, he hated you. This mission was the last thing any of you wanted, but you had to make it work. But could you?

a/n: heii people. first of all i apologize that it took me this much time to finish this bunch of shit ahahahah. there is no excuse, only that im graduating and i am slowly but surely dying. figuratively. that was a shitty joke im sorry. anyways, thank you all who were patient enough to wait for this, i have added a ‘read more’ label and hopefully it will work for everyone!!

“It was a scratch, no need to panic, Z.”

“Yeah but what if I died?”

Doyoung sighed, yet again, at least the thirteenth time during the past hour – the time you had been awake. He had been there the second you opened your chapped mouth and croaked for water. His eyes followed all your movements, cautiously, as if something could really go wrong by drinking water. Your fingers were shaky, yes, but the second he reached towards you to help holding the cup, you hissed at him, and he knew better than to stick to his decision. The room you were in was a lot like a hospital’s – clean, white sheets with even brighter walls and equipment. The first few moments you opened your eyes it blinded you almost, giving you a sting in your head and a wish that you should have stayed passed out.

“Die from a scratch?” he placed his head in his palm as he stared at the neon lines of your heartrate.

“I mean,” you murmured, fidgeting with the string attached under the skin of the back of your hand, “I did pass out from it.”

“I think you over-reacted,” he squinted at you then, “like you do most of the time.”

You would have thrown your hands up in frustration if it wasn’t for the things in your arms, quite literally tying you to the machines.

“It was mental, really,” he said then, voice lower and somewhat softer, “after you passed out and the other gang ran away it was just – crazy. A mess. The special forces arrived and when they saw that there was no one from the opposite team…they went full commando.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you struggled to put the pieces together. You shouldn’t have asked him to tell you what happened afterwards.

“They thought we set the whole thing up.”

He nodded, and his Adams apple bobbed, casting his glance away from your searching eyes and raked his bony fingers through his hair. The charcoal locks fell into his eyes in a soft mess.

“They wouldn’t let us go, Z,” he said, his voice barely a whisper but still filled with hatred and a sort of calm, hidden fury. “You were…you were bleeding so much, and they kept on stalling and stalling and I- “he took a deep breath as his voice wavered. You reached out for his hand and took it into your own, squeezing softly. He glanced up then, his eyes distant, hazy with the recent memories.

“Prince Jaemin refused to leave your side. Not even for one second,” he chuckled, and you let out an amused huff, “Yukhei almost blew his ass up but I think he was somewhat thankful.”

You averted your gaze and let out a smile.

“Prince Mark and Renjun were the ones who talked some sense into those meatheads – honestly their captain was such a jerk,” Doyoung continued, irritation shadowing his tone. You just shrugged and poked the infusion in your wrist, letting the string attached to it wiggle.

“At least I’m alive,” you proclaimed, letting out something that sounded like a bittersweet chuckle. He just shook his head and exhaled gently.

“Taeyong was out of his mind when the special forces kept us there. I’ve never seen him this disoriented before.”

“Except when Jisung walked in on him when he – “

“No! Please don’t remind me.”

You grinned as Doyoung’s face twisted into a mix of terror and disgust. It only disappeared when a low, gentle knock resonated in the clean, white room. Both him and you glanced over at the figure entering slowly and quietly, and since your vision was still somewhat blurry, you squinted, trying to put a name to the face.

“Prince Jaemin,” Doyoung said, and emerging from the chair he was lounging in before, he bowed. For a second, panic took over the young prince’s features as he waved his hands in dismissal.

“No, please, I should be the one bowing.”

Glancing over to your sitting form on the bed, something like a small, careful smile made its way on his sharply shaped lips.

“Miss Z,” he said, with a voice sweet as sugar, with eyes glinting gently, “How are you feeling?”

You adjusted yourself and let the corner of your lips curve upwards.

“Better, Your Highness,” you inclined your head in thanks, but he just grinned, and lowered himself down next to you on the bed.

“I came in yesterday, but you weren’t awake. I wanted to thank you for what you did.”

“Your Highness it was-“

“Call me Jaemin.”

Doyoung smiled and so did you.

“Jaemin, it was my job. That’s what we were hired for.”

Jaemin just shook his head, as if he was trying to dismiss your words, as if they were no more than pure bullshit. Which they were. You knew it and Doyoung did too. You would have done it anyways – protecting younger ones, kids.

“My brothers and I are all thankful for you, but I’m sure you already know that,” the prince glanced at Doyoung then, who let out a grimace.

“Yeah, about that,” he drawled out, “Z, the King and Queen wanted to do some sort of fancy-ass ball in appreciation of us.”

You drew your eyebrows together at the sheer idiocy of the idea.

“We legit just stalled the idiots and beat them. And I got stabbed. Nothing great about it, it happens almost every time?”

“No, you were scratched. And yeah, I know it’s nothing special, but it seems to be something ceremonious for the Royal Family,” Doyoung then glanced at Jaemin perching on the edge of the bed, “No offense, Your Highness.”

Jaemin just waved, the graceful movement of the royal “I-don’t-give-a-fuck”.

“You’re right. We are overdramatic.”

“Great, one more thing in common with Z.”

Reaching out in Doyoung’s direction you grabbed a fistful of his hair and he let out a high-pitched whine. A crooked smile left your lips.

It took you nine days, twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes to get out of the blindingly plain infirmary room. You were pretty sure you were held hostage for no apparent reason. Royals would do that kind of shit, wouldn’t they? You walked the ivory white hallways alone. The empty beauty of the walls and the handcrafted statues of previous rulers left an empty feeling in your heart. Glamorous it was, but where was the life? Your steps echoed in a painful sting and you thought of thorns made of diamond. Then his eyes flashed into your brain for splitting moment.

Hurrying your steps, you chased the thought away and continued to walk down through the glass-corridor.

What a continuous and tiering war was it, chasing someone’s gaze away from one’s brain. Feeling a familiar sort of burning sting in your brain, you thought of the younger princes, in an attempt to chase the pair of eyes from your thought. Poison, it was the worst kind of poison. During those five days you spent in the white room recovering, you had received regular visits from the young, and occasionally older princes as well as your own family. You weren’t sure if it was a crooked sort of display for gratitude, or they didn’t have anything better to do, but nonetheless, in some hidden part of your heart you were glad to see the youngers. Surprisingly, Doyoung did too.

His eyes lit up every time one of the kids came up, the same way it did when he was talking with Jeno and Jisung. Speaking of the two devils, they have also bonded with the royals in their ages. Often, they left your room together, with half-hearted apologies and excuses, but you didn’t mind. Having so many people at the same time in your room tended to be a little overwhelming at times. Out of the five days, you spent only one sleeping alone.

There was only one person, however, who did not visit you.

“Jaehyun is busy nowadays,” Johnny explained with something like guilt in his voice. You wanted to crack up.

“No-one is obligated to visit me,” you mused, tilting your head. A careful, unsure feeling swept through his face.

“Yet here we are,” murmured Yuta from a chair next to you, his voice dripping with sickeningly sweet honey. You wanted to vomit and laugh at the same time.

Johnny decided to ignore the cold-livered tone of his brother and turned to you.

“We have a room for training. It’s filled with equipment, gym and a stash of weapons.”

You lifted your eyebrow.

“Well, for that cabinet you need someone to be there with you. Prince or trainer,” he added quickly. You didn’t talk about Jaehyun again.

A couple of hours after that, Jeno and Doyoung came barging into your room. Their arms were flailing around, and incomprehensible strings of words flew out of their mouths. You understood nothing, and the volume of their blabbering did not help either. So, you waited until they calmed down, their voices lowering to a buzz.

“The training room is a fucking heaven – “

“Language, Jeno.”

The rest is history, and you walked the glorious, ivory covered corridor on your own. The clicking sound of your steps resonated and so did your thoughts – you had to turn left here, right? Smoothing your hair out of your face, you glanced around the corner. Empty, not even a soul, a servant or a guard rushing by you.

Hesitantly, you stepped towards the only door that was not made of finely carved oak, but instead cold, cruel metal. You could feel its iciness seeping through your skin and the hair rose on the nape of your neck. The promise of a new thing, you thought, should be exciting. Why am I so goddamn nervous then?

Twirling the key slipped into your palm by Johnny an hour ago, you stepped closer to the metal door. Your palms were sweating, and your breath was heavy, but you pushed the key into the keyhole, and before you could change your mind, turned it. The door made no sound as it opened. You checked your back again, then stepping through the threshold you pushed the piece of metal shut.

What you saw, amazed you to the point where you just let your jaw hang.

The room was huge – bigger than the whole of the bar back at home – and its walls filled, almost overflowed with all range of weapons. The steel shone with a molten golden colour in the early afternoon – in your eyes it was the soft tell-tale of all that youth, all those lives that had to be paid in battles.

Kicking your shoes off, you stepped onto the sea of tatamis on the floor, the familiarity of the dry but soft material under your feet washing over you. You weren’t even sure where to start – hell, you weren’t even sure if it was some kind of loyalty test, if there were hidden cameras somewhere else, watching your every move. Slowly, you turned around, your eyes running over every possible surface, memorizing the possible escaping routes –

Stop.

Stop stop stop stop.

You had had enough of paranoid thoughts, you were the bad guys, you were not supposed to feel the urge to run away and hide.

You were the ones who made others’ blood run cold, turn the other way.

Forcing a block onto your distracting thoughts, you lifted three throwing knives and five shuriken.

The weapons’ weights were light – you had to remind yourself there was something in your hand, so you wouldn’t forget about the familiarity of the icy feeling. Throwing them onto the ground you searched for a Straw Man, a figure you could aim at.

You found it on the other side of the room, about fifty steps away from where you were standing. Perfect. Lining up your body, you spun the first knife in your hand.

Then you threw.

You threw and threw and threw, up until there was nothing in your hand, and when you retrieved them you continued where you left off. You continued until that specific sore feeling returned to your body, with the familiar veil of exhaustion raping over your senses, and like you have always done; you did not listen. You spilled all the bitterness into your movements, you aimed at head, heart, liver and stomach, you aimed and retrieved and started again.

And when you thought you had enough – not caring how long it has already been, an hour? Two? Three? - you picked down three other weapons.

Swords and long-knives and axes, anything that got near your hands.

You battled, moved with the Straw Man until your head was nothing but an empty balloon, free of any thought, any pain, any memory.

Your throat burned, your muscles screamed, and you smiled. Through pain and tears, you smiled and stroke again and again.

The sun already set when someone spoke behind you.

“Who are you fighting against?”

You spun around, your mind foggy, mind hyper-alert, arms ready to throw the knife in your hand.

Then all the mist cleared when you looked into the familiar pair of eyes. The sweet colours of warm chocolate stared into your own, with nothing but the purest kind of curiosity.

Breathing heavily, you dropped the knife in your hand and plopped onto the light green tatami.

“Many people,” you answered, and inspected his movements from underneath your eyelashes as he walked closer. His cheeks were tainted a slight pink and his hair was ruffled and his clothes couldn’t look more casual - yet he still managed to look composed and put together. His hands were deep in his jeans’ pockets as he lowered himself down onto a chair on the edge of the tatami-sea. A safe distance from you and the weapons scattered in an organized mess, something like a satanic pentagram.

“Many people?” he repeated, his velvet voice tinted with amusement. Huffing, you lowered your head and stared into your toes.

“There are many people who had wronged me and my family.”

Lifting one of his – most likely plucked – eyebrows, he chuckled.

“Are they still alive?”

Something close to laughter bubbled up in your throat but you fought it back down, keeping your expression icy. You just looked up at him from under your eyelashes and let out a smallest of crooked smiles.

“I barely think so.”

He grinned again and inspected the steel around you.

“I see you have found the training room,” his voice was low. Soft and careful, testing the seas. Relaxing yourself, you lowered onto the tatami, huffing in exhaustion. A little break won’t hurt. He watched you carefully, inspecting your movements and when your eyes met, you saw the faint colour paint his cheeks.

“Yeah,” trying to sound casual, you shrugged and leaned back on your hands. “I was given the key by – “

“I know,” he interrupted and pursing your lips, you fell silent. “I have questions,” he said then, his voice strong but his eyes somewhat vacant – unsure. Squirming on your butt, you reached for the closest weapon, and started cleaning it with the soft material of your shirt. Something to keep you distracted – something to keep you on earth.

“I’m listening.”

Clearing his throat, he leaned back on his chair.

“First off…I know we started on shaky waters, and I think that is mainly because I was an…arse.”

“An arse?”

Uncomfortably, he glanced sideways. Then nodded. Puzzled, you lifted an eyebrow.

“I’ve genuinely, honestly, never heard someone use that word before.”

He squinted his eyes, eyeing your face suspiciously.

“You seriously don’t know what ‘arse’ means?” his voice was dumbfounded, amused. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, you were certain he was messing with you one way or another and you felt the need to grab that shiny shuriken by your ankle.

“No. Am I missing out on something?”

“It means…you know. Someone’s backside. But lower.”

“An ass, Your Majesty means?”

“…yeah.”

A loud, hoarse laugh erupted from your throat and you didn’t even try containing it. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt your lungs burning in need of oxygen. The sound echoed in the spacey, empty room and you were sure you saw him flinch before looking around uncomfortably.

“So, you’re saying you were an asshole,” your voice was strained as you wiped at your cheeks.

“Yes, but can I finish?”

“Go on, Your Majesty.”

Taking a breath, he inspected his sneakers.

“I – shouldn’t have drawn conclusions so easily and fast about you and your…” he hesitated, but you interrupted anyways.

“Family. They are my family.”

He looked at you. Really looked at you, with eyes wide and curious, glowing with something you couldn’t quite grab. You felt yourself tense under his inspecting gaze, heat rushing to your cheeks. What the fuck is going on? You were uncomfortable, uneasy, your fingers were itching with the need to grab something and fidget with it. It wasn’t the kind of gaze Taeyong would give you and Yukhei every time you came back from Gods know where, with clothes half burned, half torn off, with eyes glinting with everything but regret. It was a whole other level than when you perched on a rooftop with the icy graze of the wind through the relatively thick material of your shirt and jacket. You didn’t feel it on your skin, no. You felt it in your bones, your flesh, your soul.

Keep calm, Y/n. Keep calm. It’s your period coming. Your hormones are fucking with you.

You soothed your senses with the sweetness of the lie.

“Yes, family. I wanted to thank you. For saving my little brother.”

You were about to wave him off, the uneasy in your stomach tightening, but he held his hand up.

“No, I mean it. I know it’s your job and I know you’re most likely gonna say it was not that big of a deal, but I want to clarify the fact that you have been wounded while fighting,” he took a deep breath to continue but you interrupted anyways, quickly.

“I was gonna say that I accept white chocolate as a prize.”

You saw his breath getting caught in his throat, his ears flushing a sweet, bright shade of pink.

“Ah…ehm…white chocolate?”

You shrugged, “Yeah. Those are the best shit on the global market these days.”

Nodding, he cleared his throat again and inspecting the ground he asked you, “Why do you hate us so much?”

Your stomach coiled again, not sure whether it was the mention of the white chocolate that drove him to dive into deeper, personal matters, or the question had been on his mind for days. He certainly didn’t beat around the bush for long. You decided on the latter.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Majesty.”

“You know exactly what I mean. The rest of the boys, your family, had warmed up to us, pretty much. Except maybe the other assassin, Doyoung. And the short one who always looks like he’s either about to slit someone’s throat or spill the darkest of your secrets – “

“Oh, Ten always knows the latest of the tea. Believe me, you don’t want to be there when he decides to spill it. It’s a catastrophe,” you tilted your head and sighed, a sort of endearing smile playing around on your lips.

“That’s not what I meant. Look, it is obvious that there is something that holds you back. I just…I don’t even know. I just wanted to know why.”

He grew quiet, his voice becoming unsure when you showed no reaction. He was swimming amongst dangerous tides, far deeper and darker than he could imagine. Your head was spinning, shards of pieces of memories cutting into your skull, you didn’t want to remember. No. He wasn’t ready for the truth, and neither were you. Neither were any one the Diamond Snake, and it was going to remain that way. So, brushing aside your honest answer, you replied with another.

“It isn’t entire the best feeling in the world, Your Majesty, when you are the only female working in this place, surrounded by men at all times. I hope you understand why I prefer to remain closed off.”

He didn’t believe you.

It was obvious, when sheer doubt took over his features. You didn’t question it though, didn’t push it.

Huffing out air, he nodded, strands of caramel brown hair falling into his eyes as he did so.

“Of course, I understand. I will try and find a solution, if you would like me too.” He stood up then, and before you could utter a word of objection, he bowed his head. His gaze avoided yours, and suddenly you felt like you have made the worst decision, not telling him the truth. So, you brushed your hand over the steel blade of a knife by your knees and pressed your mouth together.

“Goodnight, Miss Z,” he murmured, and you snapped your head towards him when you heard the smooth, velvet voice.

You didn’t answer and the next sound you heard was the slam of the metal door. The tears came after that.

Two weeks, every day, from morning until noon. That’s the amount of time you have spent in the training room, with other members visiting, sparring, getting beaten and then storming out of through the metal door, bruises already blooming on their skin.

You weren’t in the best mood.

You weren’t sure what was going on inside you, neither was your environment. After four days, Jeno came to you in the training room to let you know about the findings of the blood sample taken from under your nails and knives, and when you showed no signs of care when he did so, neither him or the rest of them bother to try and get you back on that one. You were more than thankful for that.

Yukhei, however, did mention that you were having the glorious week of your period – he did get his ass kicked a minute or so later – but it has been almost a month since you have gotten back from the ominous mission with the younger princes.

You saw more of them, and perhaps it warmed your heart. A little.

“Why did you become an assassin?” asked Jaemin one of the many afternoon’s with sweat running down along your brow. Gulping heavily, you squat down in front of a weapon stack, your back to him.

“There was no other offer of profession at the local employment office.”

He snorted behind you and after a couple of seconds you heard the low thumps of his steps on the tatami. He lowered himself next to you.

“Liar,” he smiled and watched you expectantly.

“Obviously. People like me don’t say the truth.”

Shaking his head, he laid down, and fixated his gaze on the wooden ceiling of the room. When he sensed you did nothing other than shifting your attention back onto sharpening a random knife you found, he patted the tatami next to himself.

“Come lie down with me. You have been training for four whole hours now.”

“No thanks.”

“I didn’t wait for an answer. It’s an order,” he flashed his teeth in a grin, and you whipped your head back at him. The young prince and you became closer to each other for sure, during the past month, to the extent where he begged you to treat him as a common boy, instead of “throwing his status in his face every time you talked.” He was younger than you for sure, but it never stopped him from biting back equally snarky comments at you every time you shot him off with your own.

Dropping the knife away from you, you slowly leaned back, just to stare at the ceiling.

“I swear to god, you need to start dating with pretty lil’ princesses so you can do shit like this under the stars,” you croaked.

He shrugged and quirked the edge of his lips.

“I sure would be a ladies’ men, wouldn’t I?”

You let out a low chuckle and nodded, your elbows poking into his ribs. Jaemin was for sure one of a kind, the type to try no matter what hard to make a person smile. Pushing the long sleeves of your training shirt – which you have received plenty of the past few weeks and you’re not entire sure whether you have been happier in your life – and relaxing your facial features, you closed your eyes.

“It wasn’t entirely a choice, Jaemin. Sometimes, I mean, hah, most of the time, people have not a lot of chance to do things. Sometimes they are forced to live with things that were not intentional. Situations, lives they were…pressured into.”

You inhaled, applying force on your eyelids, as if you could block your sight from memories that came out every time you closed your eyes and purred about your past.

Jaemin was already staring at you by the time you glanced sideways in his direction, with even eyebrows furrowed together, gaze hazy with thoughts. He was about to open his mouth, most likely to ask something, however, before he could utter a word, the loud bang of the metal door from behind you crashed all hopes he had to speak.

You didn’t even need to look back to know who just entered the room.

“Holy shit this place is DOPE!”

You would think you have already gotten used to Yukhei’s booming voice. You didn’t. And if you drew consequences from Jaemin’s jump and saucer-wide eyes, he did too, have a long way to go.

Jeno was walking behind Yukhei, with something like the shadow of a smile on his lips. When his gaze met yours, his eyes turned into half-moons as he chuckled to himself.

“What’s up guys?” with a low huff, you hoisted yourself up from the ground. Yukhei looked around the training room with an admiring glint in his eyes.

“Boss asked us to find you. Apparently, he has something to tell you. He’s with princes.”

You lifted an eyebrow as you shot a questioning look at Jaemin.

“Which ones?” you asked.

Yukhei shrugged as he continued to inspect the weapons stacked up all around the walls. “The ones that make you look like you have a spike shoved up in your ass.”

Jaemin let out a low, dramatic gasp and Jeno dropped his head into his palm.

“Ah,” was all you said as you picked up the leather jacket you dropped onto the floor after entering, and grabbing the pair of sneakers in your hands, you strode towards the door.

“Better place it back in then,” you threw back behind your shoulder before the metal door shut closed.

You didn’t really bother knocking on Taeyong’s door before kicking it open barefooted. You were quite a sucker for entrances and to be honest, and it kind of ran in the family.

“I heard you needed my spiked-up ass!” you hollered into the room before throwing your shoes in the corner and hanging your jacket. Ambling into the suite’s living room, you found Taeyong, Doyoung and Kun with the three oldest princes, Johnny, Yuta and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun’s and your eyes met for a single second, but you diverted your gaze just as fast.

You hated how you memorized the way he looked at that moment, with his soft his hair looking perfect even though you were completely sure he had not brushed it and you really hated that you caught the way his ears were tinted a slight shade of pink.

Suddenly you regretted that the words “spiked-up ass” ever left your mouth.

Taeyong covered his mouth before he let out a tiny cough - you were more than sure of the fact that he had a shit-eating grin on his face – and Doyoung let out an obvious eyeroll.

“Well now that you are here,” began Kun, “we can get down to it.”

“Get to what?” you quipped, and massaging your left wrist, you took a seat on one of the cream coloured sofas by the floor-to-ceiling glass window.

Your gaze raked over the three princes. Johnny sat on a dark rose-coloured plush sofa, with his two brothers perching on the arms of it. You didn’t look them directly in the eyes, no. You didn’t dare, not after you have seen the flash of bare emotion in Prince Jaehyun’s eyes.

Your mind kept repeating the minutes, hours he had spent watching you in the training room during those two weeks. You didn’t talk, didn’t make eye-contact. Just like then when you entered the room, you avoided his gaze, the sheer curiosity shimmering in those orbs.

He didn’t bother you.

Didn’t say a word, didn’t make a noise, and in some distant part of your mind, you were certain he hardly breathed. Some days, you saw the edge of a black notebook poking out of his pocket. You decided not to pay any special attention to it. Or to him, for that.

“Doyoung have told you a couple of weeks ago that there will be a dinner for us, in thanks to dealing with the…problems that came up with the young princes.” You nodded as you listened to Kun’s soft voice. He stood behind Taeyong, looking at you and the three princes with eyes glinting in an odd way.

Frowning, you straightened your back.

“But that’s not it, is it?” your voice was cautious, you felt like there was an elephant in the room, and everyone knew about it except for you. However, when you glanced at Doyoung you saw a puzzled look taking over his features, unlike Taeyong, who silently inspected the tip of his shoes, slightly faded crimson hair falling onto his forehead.

Doyoung’s and your eyes met. Kun cleared his throat before he continued.

“And additionally, we have found a trail to who might be behind the attacks.”

You nodded, remembering Jeno coming into the training room the tell you before you chased him away.

“We were able to trace it back to Mr. Kim.”

A beat of silence.

“There is like one million Mr. Kims you dipshit,” Doyoung drawled and Taeyong and you choked on your laughter. Kun shot a look at the raven-haired assassin who then quickly rearranged his facial expressions and instead glared on the flower - tapestry.

Johnny cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair.

“Kim Seokjin is a high-ranked official and advisor, working for the Crown,” he said matter-of-factly, keeping his gaze on you and the others. “He has been through more battles than me and my brothers combined, and he used to be believed one of the most loyal objects for my father and mother.”

“Seems like he’s gone rogue,” Taeyong marvelled and Jaehyun nodded.

“We have tried to look into his activities for the past couple of months, but we have found nothing,” Jaehyun continued and glanced at Taeyong, carefully avoiding your gaze. “We need your hacker’s help.”

Taeyong inclined his head and reached for the crumpled cigarette pack lying on the crystal-clear glass coffee-table.

“Z,” he spoke up, his voice gravelled and snapping your head back, you caught the pack he threw at you. Your eyes met for a couple of seconds and that was when you saw it; that glint that appeared almost every time when something was about to come up. Something that you might not take well.

The cigarette pack he threw at you was a warning, then.

“Is there something else?” Doyoung asked, obviously bored out of his mind. He tended to do that a lot when something was not revolving around him.

“Yes, there is,” Johnny admitted before starting off. He didn’t look at you, he kept on staring at the carpet in front of himself. Unlikely of an eldest royal who is used to speak in front of and to people on a regular basis. “He will most likely be present for the dinner organized for the Diamond Snake. Which can mean two things in this case; first of all, he was one of the few officials who had strongly disagreed concerning the…hiring of your gang. If he decides to come to the gathering – “

“Then he wants to eliminate us,” you ventured, cutting him off. Yuta’s head snapped towards you in warning, but ignoring him, you leaned forward with eyes fixated on lighting the cigarette dangling from your mouth.

“That’s right. We know a couple of things already, for example the fact that he finds beautiful woman, a good drink and gold irresistible,” explained Johnny, and Doyoung eyed the prince’s features cautiously. Taeyong’s gaze remained on your face, which you carefully kept stone cold neutral.

Everyone went quiet and you inhaled the smoke, relished in the soft sting, the familiar smell. You felt another pair of eyes on you, molten caramel, the smoothing rays of the afternoon sun. You avoided that too.

Your brain caught up on the prince’s thinking, and it did not take long for you to figure out what they wanted to ask from you, why Taeyong was so goddamn nervous and why he lit one cigarette after another. Doyoung was still in the dark.

“Your Majesties,” Taeyong croaked then, exhaling a large amount of smoke which he kept inside for way too long. “I will talk about you request with Z alone.” he gave the princes a half-hearted incline of his head.

Kun nodded slowly.

“It is best if we talk about it amongst ourselves,” he agreed and Doyoung huffed.

“Talk about what? Can someone just tell me what’s going on?!”

You rose before drawling, “they want to whore me out to Mr. Kim,” with eyes as dead as your voice. You didn’t see the realization and disgust flash in Doyoung’s eyes for you rose from your seat, your gaze dead set on the oldest prince.

Taeyong then sprung up and with a single movement, stood in your way. Without your heels on you he was taller than usual, and he did not seem inclined to let you go. Kun moved from behind the sofa and with a tiny but respectful bow of the head ushered the princes out.

You didn’t see the look in Jaehyun’s eyes before the door slam shut behind his back.

And then you let it all out.

“What the fuck did you think, Tae?! Huh?!” your voice rose dangerously, and with a hand, pushed Taeyong in the chest who staggered a single step back. He lifted his arms in defence, but you paid no attention as you threw the half-burned cigarette into the ashtray.

“Z, listen to me – “

“Fuck about listening to anyone in this goddamned shithole, we were hired to gather information, to figure out who is behind all this shit, kill that bastard and then move the fuck along. I’m not going to play their fucking games, Tae!” you snarled but you felt the suffocating veil of desperation and fear creep up on your senses.

“Z, they don’t want to – “

You choked out a sob and grabbing the front of his black t-shirt you pulled him close.

“We talked about this. I told you I will never do anything like that again, I told you I told you I told you,” your voice hitched, lowered from a vicious hiss down into a weak whisper. Kun slid out of the room and closed the door behind him quietly. Taeyong put a hand on the back of your head, smoothing your hair, your back. He didn’t say anything, he held you and you let the first tear fall. Torn pieces of memories zipped through your mind and you tightened your grip on his shirt, held onto it like a lifeline.

“They will not whore you out, Z. They wanted to, but I told them they shouldn’t expect you to do that.” He murmured as his hand trailed through your locks.

“Would the Royals go that far?” Doyoung piped up as he laid down on the couch, placing his feet on the arm rest.

“Take your shoes off, Doyoung,” Taeyong deadpanned and the assassin threw his shoes off into the corner of the room with a dramatic sigh. You straightened up and wiped your glistening cheeks with the back of your shaking hand.

“Sorry for reacting like that,” you grumbled and Taeyong rustled your head with a sigh.

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

“Are you saying I’m a crybaby?” you murmured and Taeyong let out a low laugh.

“You should see your face every time someone says they want to use the fact that you’re a woman.”

Fuming, you threw yourself into the chair in which Johnny was sitting before. Taeyong pushed Doyoung’s legs away and sat down, posture slightly stiff. Wiping your nose into the sleeves of your shirt you pulled your knees close to your chest.

“So, what did the princes want me to do if not using me?” you asked, placing your chin on your arms.

“They do want to use you in a certain way, but,” he held his finger up before you could utter a word. You closed your mouth. “They wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. You see, Seokjin has no idea how you look like. We didn’t show ourselves in front of generals or officials, only the princes and the servants who were there. That means – “

“I will pretend someone I’m not,” you caught up and Taeyong nodded. “What is the information we need to gather from him?”

“We need to make sure that Seokjin is in relation with that gang who attacked us or the Black Spade.”

“And how the hell am I gonna do that? I’m not a spy and I have no clue how to act like a fucking lady!” you threw your arms up in the air and Doyoung sighed.

“We been knew.”

Your head snapped towards him and your hand reached for the nearest object you could throw at him, the diamond ashtray, but Taeyong snatched it from your hand before you could hurl it at Doyoung’s head.

“The princes offered to help you.”

“All of them?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? Probably. They will be in the Grand Ballroom tomorrow at ten in the evening. You will meet them there.” Taeyong said then and you let out an exasperated sigh. Guess, you were gonna have to learn the waltz.

It took Winwin 17 whole minutes to convince not to go in your training tunic, but instead something more comfortable and socially (and royally) acceptable.

“Listen, Z, you need to get something like a shirt, or I don’t know, not that black fucking bodysuit… No, no absolutely fucking not, Z, put the stilettos back.”

You groaned as you threw the pair of shoes at Winwin, who caught them and chucked them on your bed.

“I don’t want to go around pretending I’m a cute little lady who does pretty bows, and smiles like a brainless idiot,” you protested, placing your hands on your hips. You were still in underwear and you were ready to throw the hacker out of your room, but he insisted on not making a fool out of you. Pity. Would have been a nice warm-up.

“Z, you’re just gonna learn the basic behaviour when you’re around high-class people, come on…No oh dear god put that knife back, girl you’re going to walk with fucking books on your head, Jesus everloving Christ,” Winwin raked through his blond hair and with a quick movement put it in a manbun.

“Yeah but we always need to be ready. Just a small one?” you held up a pocket-knife, and widening your eyes you put on your best puppy-face.

Winwin sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands.

‘I’m gonna call Jisung – “

“He’s playing Fortnite,” you quipped, and he raised his eyebrows.

“At nine in the morning? He woke up this early?”

“Nah. He just didn’t go to sleep.”

“Taeyong’s gonna gut him,” he pondered, and you shrugged. Giving in, you reached for the only clean white shirt you had along with a soft, flary pair of pants. You were about to reach for the high-heels but Winwin grabbed your arm in an attempt to stop you.

“Come on, I’m so fucking short,” you whined, shaking your arm out of his.

“You’re gonna be tripping and falling, do you really want to make a fool out of yourself like that?” he retorted, and you gave in after a second of thinking. Damn him and his rational thinking. Huffing, you pulled on a pair of sneakers, making as much fuss and noise while doing so as possible. You knew that the calm, forever-collected hacker won’t give a single shit about it, you can also jump out the window to get to the meeting faster – he would just shrug and text about it to the groupchat, to let the others know.

His story is a quirky one, filled with broken hearts, neon-screens and cold slices of pizzas.

It was Doyoung who recruited him. They met in jail, both of them waiting for their friends to bail him out – only Winwin had no one he could really rely on. It was you who went to grab Doyoung, back when you were 18.

Both the receptionist and the guard were corrupted by the already slowly building empire of the Diamond Snake. It took no convincing and a lot of money and Doyoung was out. But he didn’t wasn’t to leave.

“Wait,” he said, and you glared at him from behind your sunglasses, its size reminding him of a fly’s eyes. There was a faint bruise on the corner of your lips, and he knew you were frowning behind the darkened glasses. “There is someone,” with a quick movement he inclined his head in the direction of his cell, “I think we should get him out as well. I talked with him. He will be of use, I promise.”

“You know what Tae thinks about picking people up.” you murmured. Shooting a hesitant look towards the guard who started to get impatient, you licked your lips quick and then whispered, “alright I’ll get him out. But you go into the car now. Yukhei is already there, behind the building.”

Without another look, you shoved him towards the door before fixing your glasses and reaching for another stack of money.

A blackeye and Winwin’s dumbfounded expression richer, both of you blasted out of the jail and hurried towards the getaway car. Doyoung snorted as he examined your blackeye and murmured, “well seems like money wasn’t enough.”

For some unknown reason, the guard is fired the next day.

“You are still that troublemaker you were when I first met you,” Winwin’s deep voice mutters before sinking down on the bed. “It’s hard to imagine you doing courtesies and waltz around the room like some goddamn princess.”

“What are you talking about?” straightening up from fixing your shoelaces you place your hands on your waist. “I am the fucking Queen, not the flimsy princess.”

He let out a chuckle and ushered you towards the door.

“Hurry up, you’re already late. They might punish you by wearing lacey dresses with corsets.”

You pouted.

“Lace is hot but only in the bedroom.”

You proceeded to avoid the shoes he hurled at your head before ducking out of the room, the remains of your laughter echoing in the empty hallways.

You weren’t exactly sure what to expect when you stepped in, maybe a teacher with spectacles and way-too-tight corset, maybe a lady-in-waiting or even the Queen herself.

What you didn’t expect was eight princes, four out of them shrieking and hooting…spanking each other? You halted for a second, waiting for your brain to process the view of Prince Yuta throwing Prince Renjun over his shoulder with a victorious holler. Johnny, the only reasonable out of all of them, was unfortunately missing and suddenly you felt like you have made the worst possible decision on agreeing to learn etiquette with them.

You cleared your throat and the room went still as death.

Renjun peeked over in your direction from Yuta’s shoulder, Donghyuck slowly removed his hand from Mark’s butt, Jaemin smoothed down Jungwoo’s hair and Jaehyun let go of Chenle’s collar.

“I’m…sorry for being…” a glance down at your phone, “two minutes and thirty-four seconds late.”

Jaehyun stood straight up and smoothing his caramel hair back, let out a crooked smile, one that showed his dimples off discreetly.

“It’s – it’s alright. Please take a seat,” he said and Jungwoo whipped out a chair out from somewhere behind them and spun it right in front of you.

Feeling the tiny bubble of nervousness grow in your stomach, you lowered yourself on the chair and just to show you’re not as barbaric as is might show occasionally, you crossed your legs. As you let your eyes scan over the princes standing in a half circle in front of you, you gave a silent thanks to Winwin for not letting you out in high heels and an edgy outfit. Most of the princes in front of you were wearing branded hoodies and shirts with jeans or sweatpants and sneakers. Were they even allowed to do that?

Under the inspecting gazes of the royals suddenly you became aware of the fact that you left your hair in a hazy ponytail with a minimal amount of makeup.

“You might wonder why we are your teachers instead of a chaperone of a sort,” Yuta started with a steely gaze and you straightened your back, “you see, I don’t know what kind of plan you’re cooking for the gala in honour of you and your gang, but no one can be aware of that. So, we will be looking after your education in basic royal etiquette,” he announced before giving a mocking bow, and you swore you saw Jungwoo roll his eyes.

“You make it sound so serious,” the younger prince said, “we were going to help her out anyways.”

“What about the guys? Like Yukhei?” Chenle quipped in and you let out a small smile.

“We already told them the basic stuff,” Mark sighed, “plus people don’t pay attention to men. The spotlight is on…” he made a grand sort of hand motion in your direction, “the ladies at all times. Especially the ones who seem like they want to stab someone in the throat,” he turned to you with a deadpanned expression and murmured, “you might want to work on that general expression of yours Miss.”

Yuta snorted and looked over at Mark.

“She has the ultimate resting bitch face in case you haven’t noticed it.”

“Something you guys have in common,” grunted Renjun from beside Yuta and the older turned to him with a shocked expression but before he could retort anything, Jaehyun interrupted.

“How about we start, we don’t have much time. Five days, brothers. Focus.” His sweet baritone washed over you and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

Jungwoo nodded and cracked his knuckles.

“Lesson one, Miss Z…”

“Please just call me Z,” you interrupted quickly, and he inclined his head.

“Lesson one will be sitting. Crossing legs is not okay if you are sitting in front of people.”

You quickly uncrossed your legs and listened to his instructions and tried not to get distracted with the softness of his voice.

“Imagine your knees are being glued together,” he started, and you brought your knees together, slightly frowning at the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, “and that some old nasty perverted paparazzi is trying to have a shot of under your skirt.”

“A shot of what?!” you exclaimed, and it was Jaemin’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Tilt them a little, like this,” he bent his knees as if he was sitting and turned them to the right. You imitated, and they nodded in satisfaction.

And then you learned how to hold a teacup and a wineglass, you learned how to get out of a car and how to hide your cleavage when bending down. You greet people you know with a kiss on the cheek or a firm handshake and you hold your handbag in front of you at all times, in your hand.

The princes made an excellent job at teaching you – even though Yuta snapped at you multiple times and Chenle let out that laugh with a frequency higher than Yukhei’s. Winwin wasn’t wrong, you did indeed need to walk with a bunch of encyclopaedias on your head – and when you did, you silently thanked yourself all those gym sessions with Yukhei because if it wasn’t for them you would have most likely broke your neck under the weight of the books.

“You need to imagine that your spine is a cord,” explained Jungwoo as he rolled his sleeves up, “that cord is your spine – “

“And you straighten the fuck out of it,” finished Yuta.

A beat of silence.

“Why the fuck do you need to swear in every single one of your sentences?” Jaehyun’s voice resonated something like an ever-lasting suffer, with his eyebrows shot up until his hairline. From the corner of your eyes you saw Renjun silently bury his face into his hand.

“Who are you to talk, you just said ‘fuck’!” Yuta retorted before squinting his eyes towards his younger brother.

You let the bare thought of smile playing around the corner of your lips.

“I didn’t know princes were allowed to swear,” you chuckled carefully so the encyclopaedia placed on the crown of your head won’t fall. Yuta shrugged and placed his chin on the top of his hand – which would have been a sweet gesture if he wasn’t looking like he wished you were dead at all times.

“The forbidden fruit is the sweetest,” was all he said with a sort of melancholy in his voice. You glanced at your feet and took a deep breath.

“So, straighten the fuck out of the cord, right?” you forced a smile and Yuta hid a grin.

With aching slowness, you lifted yourself up from the chair, cautious of the books atop your head. Spreading your arms, you searched for your balance, bit your lip in concentration.

“You’re doing great,” murmured Jungwoo, his voice sweet yet distant, reminding you of an early summer breeze. You took a step, the books stable. The princes remained silent, watching you carefully, not daring to disturb the concentration on your features. After five steps you dared to open one of your eyes. Your shoes made no noise on the polished marble as you walked agonizingly slowly towards the end of the room – touch the wall, girl. Touch the wall. After another five steps you arrived next to Jaehyun – the prince standing farthest away from you, barely participating in the teaching.

Throughout the firing instructions and shouts to get you to learn the proper etiquette, he stood and observed – occasionally letting out a huff of amusement.

You felt his gaze on you during the two hours you have spent there, and it took every fibre of your being not to let heat rush to your cheeks. He has gotten the worst out of you, reminding you of adolescent years, broken hearts and flushing cheeks from the tiniest of touches. Suddenly the books on your head became heavier and you became even more alert of the gazes that followed and inspected your every movement.

He only came close to you once the princes decided it would be a good idea to be done for that day. His steps were silent, cautious as he sauntered closer to you as you placed the last book off your head.

“There is something I haven’t quite be able to stop wondering about,” he said, his voice as casual as it could get. Arching one of your eyebrows you encouraged him to keep talking. “Doyoung said that it might take you some time to incline to follow the proposal from us about Kim Seokjin – “he corrected himself rapidly when he saw a warning glint in your eyes, “not that you had a lot of chance to do anything else. I’m – sorry about that.”

“Don’t beat around the bush with me, Prince,” you purred, and you saw his Adams apple bob for a second.

“No, I was just wondering what the reason for that quick acceptance was. I would have completely understood if you needed more time like a week or something, but…I’m not sure I can figure this one.”

His voice lowered into a murmur and you cocked your head to the side, for some reason not really taken aback by his questions.

“You see, women don’t have that sheer brutality when it comes to violence. We aren’t inclined to go head first into situations,” you found Jaehyun searching your face while you talked, and you forced yourself not to flinch or retreat a step. You smoothed the edge of your nails on the skin of your wrist. “But we are good at other things, things that are underestimated by males who have not met with one of us. Who have not experienced our ways of handling situations. Instead of testosterone and bruised knuckles we have cunning, we have the strings to the puppets in the games and – “you brought your fingernails away from your wrist and lifted it, moving it towards his chest, stopping only a millimetre away from the fine material of his sweatshirt.

You heard him suck in a breath and for a second you let yourself relish in his reaction. “- and we have the power of seduction,” you continued, lowering your hand, “a power which is just as fun as dangerous to play with. It’s sort of a game, prince, with rules that you need to be stuck to. Like glue. Or else the cost is your life,” you let out a shaky breath and the echo of a sad smile, “seduce or be seduced, Jaehyun.”

The similar rhythm of your phone’s buzz shook you out of your reverie from the direction of Yuta’s hand, signalling the arrival of a text message. (The prince snatched it from your hand before you could place it on the ground somewhere in the corner of the large room, and to your dismay he kept it in his lap throughout the lesson.)

Jaehyun tilted his head to the side as his eyes narrowed at you. His face was void of any visible emotion other than a single dimple that played on the edge of his lips.

“You got a message from… Winnie The Pooh?” his voice changed from exasperated to confused as he glanced at your back turned to him. You pushed down the urge to spin on your heels and grab it from his hands. Containing your instincts, you cleared your throat.

“Yes. His name is Winwin. Our hacker,” your voice was barely above a whisper and slowly took a one-eighty turn. Yuta pouted dramatically and nodded.

“The blond with the manbun?” he asked, and you blinked slowly.

“Yeah.”

You snatched the phone with a quick movement and left the room with quick steps after he let out something similar to a genuine smile.

“We need to create a fake identity for you,” said Taeil the third day you arrived back into Taeyong’s room which has grown itself out to be a sort of common lounge for the Snakes.

“Yeah?” you huffed as you dumped your high heels on the burgundy carpet and reached down to massage your aching heel. To hell with the waltz. Grabbing a scrunchie that perhaps belonged to Winwin you hastily tied your hair up and sat down across from him.

“What do you have in mind?”

He nodded as he pulled out his usual notebook, the one he used every time when he planned something.

“Yesterday after your training I talked with Prince Johnny and asked about the families that are well known in the castle and in the circles of the high-status people,” he opened the notebook on a page filled with his messy but still somewhat organized handwriting. You leaned closer as he continued, “there is an orphan heiress of a nearby territory, she never gets out of her villa and she doesn’t care at all what’s going on inside. She hasn’t stirred any drama and people acknowledge her enough to be aware of who she is and all that.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked at him.

“Orphan?”

“Yes. The family was attacked one night, murdered in cold blood during their dinner. The murderers slit Lord Jung’s throat and stabbed his wife but for some unknown reason they left their daughter alone. Her name is Jisoo.”

“And I’m going to be Jisoo.”

He nodded with a solemn look on his face, “you are going to be Miss Jung Jisoo.”

Lifting your chin, you remembered the lesson about presenting grace and patience, about displaying your full interest concerning a matter. You placed your hands folded lightly into your lap and angled your paralleled knees towards Taeil.

“Tell me more.”

Jaehyun reached over to Johnny to angle back his crooked tie.

“You think she will do well?” the older prince levelled his voice down, so the maids rushing around them with oversized buckets of flowers won’t hear a thing. Jaehyun saw flashes of that young woman with encyclopaedias on her head and hellfire in her eyes. He let out the faintest smile.

Johnny sighed, “We taught her everything she needs to know,” as he adjusted his navy suit over the black turtleneck shirt. Jaehyun pursed his lips, his eyes glued to an arrangement of flowers in the corner, by a Corinth marble statue.

“I don’t know, she seems pretty stubborn. She was.”

Johnny cut him a glance.

“Wouldn’t you know that, brother,” he drawled, a new kind of amusement glinting in his eyes. Jaehyun fought the urge to cringe and instead pluck a flower from a bucket which passed him, the maid almost invisible behind the gigantic arrangement.

“This ball will be something else,” he murmured to himself, “I have a feeling that all this decoration adds the feeling of…feeding the pig before cutting it down. Don’t you think?”

Johnny was silent for a second.

“Listen…even though we taught her the basic etiquette and even though there will be heavy security…they are a gang. They thrive on illegal stuff and violence and I’m just not entirely sure whether all this was a good idea.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed as he listened to his brother.

“You were the one holding us together with your positivity. Don’t start having doubts now or I swear to God – “

Johnny cut in before he could finish, “No, it isn’t like that. What I’m saying is…” his voice dropped down, barely audible over the murmurs and buzzing of the servants, “they are not accustomed to this life. Who knows whether there will be trigger that makes them turn against us?” Shaking his head, he smoothed the hair out of his eyes.

“I think it will be alright,” Jaehyun muttered, “if they were to turn against us, they would have already done it. Hopefully the night will go smoothly.”

“For the fifth time, take that thing out of my hair it makes me look like a fucking garden,” you pleaded as you reached for the flower crown arranged into a pink disaster on top of your head. It has been one and a half hour since they bathed you – they were in there with you and they scrubbed your everything even though it was supposed to be a relaxing bath. You were everything but relaxed – before they placed you in front of a wide, rose gold vanity.

“Listen young lady, we were ordered to make your appearance appropriate and fitting for the theme of the dinner.”

The woman, Ms Seol, who was responsible for your look, was a bitch. Her white hair was filled with pearls and other ornaments and she was wearing a disturbing amount of makeup to hide her wrinkles. And that enormous hooked nose. Its sole purpose was to lure you into punching her square in the face. On top of that she kept ordering you around and considering the fact that she had no clue who you actually were and the industrial number of maids coming in and out of the room they took you – you had no chance of getting out of here without looking like a complete idiot. You regretted all your decisions not only about agreeing to play a role but about accepting the proposal of the Royal Family.

Take a deep breath every time you feel like screaming, said Kun in the morning before you were taken to literal Hell, and count to ten.

Don’t lose your temper, Z.

Don’t lose it.

You forced a glittering smile.

“Ma’am,” you mused with a voice filled with glazing honey and venom, “I was invited to this dinner because of my status and looks, and the palace hired you to strengthen the latter – not to destroy its complete existence.”

She blinked twice, and you remembered Prince Renjun’s words: “You need to speak with authority with people whose status’ are lower than yours, even though you’re lying. Believe what you are saying yourself, place yourself into that situation and the others will believe it, too.”

You inhaled deeply, not breaking eye contact with Ms Seol and with renewed authority and pride in your words you said, “I am planning to get highly intoxicated on the alcoholic beverages offered tonight and finding a fairly handsome bachelor who will later blow my back out for I will be too irresistible for him and his lower, manly body parts,” you flashed a thousand-watt smile, “if you know what I mean.”

Her face contorted from surprise to contempt then into complete disgust all the while looking at you, sporting a soft pink bathrobe and a grin.

You flipped your hair above your shoulders and opened your mouth to add to her horror but the monotone and yet still cheerful voice of someone stopped you.

“My my, I knew the lady was trouble but what I just heard completely succeeded my expectations,” the maids in the room parted to give space to the newcomer, an ebony haired beauty with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “what a warm welcome.”

Her hand was resting on a black suitcase and a leather sport bag, her companion – all four female – stood behind her in suits and portable dress carriers packed with gowns hidden in their bags.

The woman pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead and flashed you a grin.

“Miss Jung,” she pronounced the word with an enough amount of sarcasm for you to know she was aware of your secret and had an exact idea on who you actually were, “I am you stylist. Your actual stylist.”

She levelled her gaze onto Ms. Seol with enough contempt to discourage the woman in every way – you shivered.

“Your services are no longer needed Ma’am, and neither is the rest of the staff.”

It took them a couple of seconds and a few fuelled glances to be outside the door.

Placing your knee on the bejewelled and soft armchair, you turned around to face your saviour of some sort. Her hair fell down on her back in soft curls and her lips were tainted devil red. She was the only one wearing pants with matching blazer and a white t-shirt. The most mesmerizing thing about her, though, was her darker complexion - Her honey skin shone in the daylight and the golden eyeshadow brightened the glow in her eyes.

“My name is Tan, pleased to meet you, assassin.”

You tilted your head with an equally wide grin.

“The honour is mine, stylist,” standing up, you let her run her eyes over your body and shape and you felt an odd satisfaction when she nodded her head.

“I wasn’t entire sure about your complexion. It’s not like I can find a proper picture of you on the internet,” she clicked her tongue and shrug her blazer off, “would you feel uncomfortable if you were naked in front of us?”

You arched an eyebrow. She smiled.

“For research purposes.”

Your let out a low snicker before undoing your robe and letting it fall to the ground, revealing your naked figure.

“Perfect,” was all she said before turning to her companion and exchanged a few words in a language unfamiliar to you. The female staff unzipped a couple of bags before pushing the wheeled carrier towards Tan.

“I was hired by Johnny,” she said as she looked through the dresses hung up, “he had a feeling that his parents will give you the stylist which will cause the most headache,” she clicked her tongue again with distaste, “she obviously had no taste.”

You picked up the robe before placing it on your shoulders.

“You know His Majesty well?”

She snorted before glancing at you, “He’s my childhood best friend. I was engaged to him, but you see,” she flicked her wrist towards you and two of the females gestured for you to sit back down, “I fell in love with a girl.”

Your eyebrows arched up again as you stared at her from the reflection of the vanity. If she was engaged to the eldest prince, then she must herself be royal as well. Tilting your head to the side you let the two females undo your previous, disastrous hairdo and each of them grabbing a hairbrush and an ironer, started to straighten your hair.

“I know what you are thinking,” Tan said as she unzipped a bag completely but the dress in it remained hidden from you. “I was only 16.”

Her voice remained neutral, levelled out. Your nose crinkled as the burning heat of the iron came a bit too close.

“Something happened,” you murmured, your own voice careful, and your eyes met in the reflection. She knew you weren’t asking, and her lips curled up in a sad smile.

“It didn’t quite work out between me and her eventually,” her voice remained emotionless and you weren’t sure whether that was true or not, but you kept yourself from pushing her. It was not your place to know. And you just met.

“16 is an age when changes happen,” you said instead and looking at yourself in the mirror, you got lost in your own reflection for a second. “Usually they are not for the best.”

She didn’t look at you, instead she pulled out a device and plugging it into the nearest connector she turned it on. Her nails were tainted red and you noticed that her bottom lip was slightly plusher than the top.

“What happened to you?”

Her question took you by surprise and you flinched. The burning iron missed the skin of your ear by only a couple of millimetres. When you looked back up, your gaze met with hers. You teared your eyes away from hers and stared into your own instead.

“I fell in love with the wrong person.”

Your voice was so low you thought the wind carried it away, out through the window into the sky. To be lost and forgotten. But it wasn’t.

“It cost you something, didn’t it?” her voice was soft but not weak and you could only nod. When she shivered, it was like she came out of something like a trauma before she clapped her hands.

“Us girls, we need to stick together and help each other,” her voice was lively now but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, “too bad Ms. Seol wasn’t able to comprehend that.”

You chuckled, and she turned to the remaining two of her staff and instructed them in that foreign language she used before. Your skin tingled, you felt like she knew every fibre of yours, even though it has been less than half an hour since she stepped into the suite.

“Is her hair done?” she turned to you shortly after. The females behind you stepped back and nodded. Tan lowered herself onto the vanity table and crossing your legs you stared up at her.

“Here is what I know,” her voice was calm, calculating, and a shiver of exhilaration ran down your spine, “I know that you are the most wanted assassin in the country. I know that you prefer to be called Z. I know that you were hired by the Royal Family to find and eliminate the threat imposed on their lives and I know that this dinner and ball will be a mission of yours.”

You didn’t let any emotion show on your face and she cocked her head to the side before she continued.

“I further know that in this ball your mission is to seduce Kim Seokjin, the universe’s greatest narcissist and jerk and bachelor, however what I don’t know is…” she stared into your eyes and you let her. “What I don’t know if it is your intention to destroy him.”

Your mouth curled into a devilish grin and so did hers.

“Really, it depends. I was told to get the information out of him but – I was not prohibited to have my own fun,” Tan nodded.

“What do you know about him?”

“Enough,” you shrugged, “I know that he loves women and that he is influential enough to be able to pull the strings of terror against the Royal Family.”

Tan smoothed her hair behind her ear, and she moved over to the bag in which, you guessed, was your dress.

“He likes champagne and gold as well,” she purred and pulled the zipper down and jaw dropped as she revealed the dress.

The Dress.

It was the most beautiful piece of clothing you have ever seen, you felt your eyes physically stuck the material. It was everything you were not and everything you wanted to be and you adored it. Its colour was a light shade of gold, the slightly transparent material adorned with rains of diamonds. The top was sleeveless, and the décolletage ran down to the middle of your stomach in a straight, piercing v-line, showing enough skin to make men wild. The bottom part was flowy and when you squinted to see better you noticed that it was cut up on both sides.

“I am going to turn you into everything he would ever wish for,” mused Tan and you huffed in satisfaction, “you will become the Women and the Gold and the Champagne of his life and you will succeed in your mission.”

Words got stuck in your throat as you glanced at her and you noticed that ever consuming fire, the fury raging in her orbs.

Revenge.

She wanted revenge for something.

And that is what you will have, not only in the name of the Royal Family, but in anyone’s who was ever wronged by that man.

So, you smiled with a fire burning with equal heat to hers and said, “Let’s turn this place upside down.”

Prince Jaehyun had absolutely no clue who half of the people in the Grand Ballroom were. It could be reprimanded, yes, for he is a prince and he is expected to know and greet all the nobles and influential who had come to the dinner and ball.

Unsuspecting.

Of what was about to happen, of who they are in the same room with, of the people they innocently engage into conversations with, thinking that ‘oh that young man with a half-moon eye laugh and perfect manners must be a distant relative of the Royal Family’. How sweet.

As he nursed his tall glass of champagne, Jaehyun kept himself as distanced as possible from the guests, who were hopefully occupied with the sweet manners of Jungwoo and the small talks of Johnny. Behind him, carefully arranged flowers decorated the soft cream coloured, marble columns that towered over the people, holding the cupola shaped ceiling.

To his right, at the very front of the room, lay the grand staircase which led in the guests through the double-winged wooden doors.

Reaching behind himself, Jaehyun plucked a piece of grape and plopped it into his champagne.

“That was gross,” drawled a voice from behind and the prince turned with a slow, graceful movement. Half hidden in the shadows the master spy, Ten, glared back at him. “Oh, Ten always knows the latest of the tea. Believe me, you don’t want to be there when he decides to spill it. It’s a catastrophe”. Your words floated into his mind in a soft sweet whisper and he suddenly remembered the power hidden behind those words. Your words. The spy did not have his eyes covered by a messy fringe like Jaehyun saw most of the times, but instead it was elegantly gelled back, revealing a clean forehead and sharp cut eyes. He didn’t bother buttoning up the top three buttons on his black shirt under the blazer.

Ten tilted his head and a strand of raven hair fell into his eyes.

“I came to report to Your Majesty,” he purred and Jaehyun stepped closer, “Everyone is in place as it was planned.”

“Is it based on what we have talked about last time?” Jaehyun murmured into his champagne glass. Ten inclined his head.

“Winwin is behind the security cameras in the basement. Jeno is mingling along with Kun. Doyoung and Taeyong are up in the gallery,” Ten mused in a voice similar to the shadows behind him before he glanced up at the private, veiled area and the lounge for the highest nobility and the princes. And now the assassins.

„Yukhei is over there,” Ten made a discrete head movement towards a waiter with a silver tray, packed with champagne glasses. As if arsonist knew the prince and the spy were talking about him, he turned around and sent a wink towards them. “Taeil and Jisung are lingering outside and well…”

The corner of Ten’s mouth curls upwards in a smile that promises nothing but chaos, “Z has yet to make her grand entrance.”

Jaehyun sighed into his champagne before he placed it onto Yukhei’s tray, who had gotten there in the meantime.

“What about my brothers?”

Ten leaned back into the silver coloured wall-fresco and Yukhei slowly placed new glasses onto his tray.

“Princes Johnny and Yuta are mingling as you see,” from the corner of his eyes, Jaehyun saw a female with lipstick that was so strong anyone would have seen it from the other end of the castle, bat her eyelashes at Yuta. “Prince Jungwoo is up on the gallery with Doyoung and Taeyong. And I believe Mark and Jaemin are on the balcony. Chenle and Donghyuck are with Winwin, down in the basement,” the spy’s voice then dropped into a whisper as he added, “thank to all the gods above. That young prince of yours, Donghyuck, is the devil incarnate.”

Jaehyun nodded with a small smile and Yukhei dropped a macaron into his mouth.

Grimace veiled over Ten’s face as he ran his eyes over the guests.

“I pay all my respect to you princes for being able to live surrounded with this much pretentiousness,” he drawled and scrunched his nose when he noticed a female tugging the cleavage of her dress lower before slipping in Johnny’s way, “do you know have some sort of limit to the people you let in here?”

“She,” Jaehyun lifted his champagne towards the female, no, girl, attempting to flirt shamelessly with the oldest prince, “is the youngest daughter of one of my father’s financial advisors.”

Ten snorted and Yukhei choked on his second macaron.

“I mean call me a savage but even I know that she ain’t supposed be acting like that,” the spy said before smoothing the loosened hair back onto his head.

Before he left, he turned to the prince with a serious expression, “You know what your role here is, right Your Majesty?”

As soon as Jaehyun nodded, the spy was nowhere to be seen.

“Your Majesty,” Yukhei mumbled before placing the last glass of champagne on the tray, “Is it your first mission?”

For a second Jaehyun was taken aback, and with eyes wide he scanned the taller male’s frame,

“I believe it is. Why?”

Flicking his bowtie, Yukhei shrugged.

“Was just gonna say that if you remember everything we have talked about, nothing can go wrong, y’know?”

With a cheeky grin that stretched across his face, giving his eyes a fiery sort of glow, the arsonist said, “Good luck prince. Try not to get lost in the flow!”

Jaehyun swirled his second glass, the words of the arsonist echoing in his mind.

Flow.

Try not to get lost in the flow.

Suddenly, he remembered crystal clearly what Taeil, the logistic said as a warning to him and his brothers.

“Once things get going – once all hell breaks loose – it will be easy to forget who we are and what we are supposed to do. We panic, and the rush of adrenalin, the Fight or Flight, will be the one dictating our actions. Not our brain.”

Jaehyun swirled his champagne again, his other hand curling in the pockets of his pants.

“Set your mind on your goal – turn it into something that you don’t only want with your brain, but with your instincts, your very core. That way, you won’t be washed away with the flow, as we like to call it.”

A brush of material pulled him back from his reverie, and a familiar, musky sent filled his nostrils and he knew who it was before he even had the chance to turn around. He grinned into the rim of the champagne glass.

“Hello there, Tan,” he mused, and the faint noise of her chuckle reached his ears and reminded himself of old memories, reminded him of tiny feet scurrying along the marble floors, reminded him of shrieks of exhilaration. Reminded him of his childhood.

“Hello, Woojae.”

“It’s been some time,” keeping his voice low, Jaehyun glanced at his friend, took in the familiarity of the shade of her skin, the lines of her eyes, the arch of her eyebrows. He saw little difference from what he remembered from…” ten years, right?”

“Something close to that.”

Her voice still had the edge, that stinging tone which reminded everyone that she was from another land, that her mother tongue was a language completely different to his own.

Tilting her head, she smoothed over her dress, an elegant black piece with just enough ornaments to make it look out of the ordinary. Her lipstick reflected some of the chandeliers’ lights as her mouth pulled into a smile.

“Quite a mess you got yourself into.”

It wasn’t entire a question. He just let out the tiniest of sighs. Her eyes raked him up and down.

“You’re really tense. It’s way too obvious,” placing her own glass of champagne down she placed herself in front of Jaehyun.

Only that, with that smooth movement, her body collided with someone else’s.

“My dear, my apologies it’s my fault – “she started but words got stuck as her chest tightened at the sight of the spy. Jaehyun remembered the young man’s name, heard it being called enough times in the Diamond Snake’s suite, which has grown itself out to be more of a residence, camping site.

“I mean yeah it kind of is. Better be more careful next time,” Jeno purred with a wink before continuing his way into the crowd. Jaehyun caught the warning glint in the spy’s eyes. And kept his mouth shut.

“Who does he think he is,” Tan murmured more to herself than to the prince, “looking that good?”

Jaehyun choked, “sometimes I forget that you are almost three years younger than us.”

Shrugging, the stylist sipped from the glass as she raked her eyes over the guests and judging from her frown, she was quietly evaluating the dresses.

“This party is a disaster, was it the grandma that dressed these people? Speaking of her,” Jaehyun felt her eyes search his face, “I had quite a guest today, did you know?”

Jaehyun gulped, his eyes searching for Johnny. He knew who she was talking about.

Tan continued, “she is a tough little thing. I like it,” taking a sip she thought a little, “you find her intriguing, don’t you, Woojae?”

“Why would you think that?” his voice wasn’t as confident as he hoped it would be.

“Maybe we have not seen each other for a long time,” Tan purred, her rich accent weaving through her voice, “but I will never forget your compassion towards unusual things.”

It felt like his heart had let go of its strings, falling free. The breath got caught in his lungs and suddenly the only thing he wanted to do was sit on the balcony, surrounded by stars and darkness. Focus. He has to focus, he has to follow the plan.

“You can’t have compassion towards things that are unusual. Broken,” he murmured, as if saying it out loud would make him believe his own words. Tan placed lowered her head slightly when a young man bowed in their direction.

“She’s not a thing. She’s human, just like you or me.”

Jaehyun turned to her, his face contorted into confusion. Does Tan even have any idea what she does?

Tan didn’t have to look at him to know what his question was going to be.

“Understand before you judge,” her eyes searched for something or someone in the crowd.

They didn’t have much time before the assassin arrived, he had to have Johnny near him.

“Tan, do you know what is about to happen?”

The stylist nodded.

“Johnny told me everything,” her voice softened, “I also know the role you need to play. You can do it, believe in yourself.”

When the door above the main staircase opened, he knew it was time.

But a little part of him fell apart when he glanced upon who entered.

His heart stopped beating for a short time and he was sure he was not the only one.

When Johnny slipped next to him, unnoticed by the nearby nobles whose eyes were glued on her, on top of the staircase, Jaehyun almost couldn’t hear the words that left the oldest prince’s lips,

“All hail to the queen of Hell.”

Tan smirked, her blood-red lips painting a cruel, beautiful line on her face.

Your steps were confident as you descended the stairs, your movements a whirlwind of gold and crystal and fire. The champagne coloured dress showed off the expanse of your legs through the cuts and the back of the dress flowed behind you as a cape. A queen indeed.

“Kim Seokjin is right there,” Johnny whispered into his ear then, and Jaehyun snapped out of the momentary trance he fell in. His eyes followed the direction of the nod and he spotted the young, influential noble with eyes stuck on the assassin. A hunter, and a prey.

Only, it wasn’t the young man who led the hunt.

“Go, brother,” Johnny murmured, and the younger prince straightened, and placed the expression of a royal, of an heir. A veil that no one could see through. A mask that was forever stuck on his face. People stepped out of his way, and soon there was a narrow corridor between him and the assassin who was almost at their level. Her hair was straightened out and half of her hair was braided into a bun on the back of her head – he had to admit, she took the air from his lungs. Soon enough, there was no other sound in the room than the soft clicks of her golden stilettoes.

They reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase at the same time.

Her hand, adorned with thin, golden bracelets and rings, rested on the ivory railing.

When they locked gazes, he swore he could feel the universe expand.

“Your Majesty,” she said then, with a voice clear like a crystal, and lowering herself almost to the ground, curtsied. Reciprocating the gesture, he bowed before taking her hand.

“My lady,” his voice was quiet but confident, and he felt the slight dug of her manicured nails on the back of his hand.

The polish wasn’t black, but a glowing shade of gold; he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. Whether he was used to the drastic change or not.

He led her anyways, into the middle of the dancefloor, with bronze leaves and curling figures carved deep into it. The guests backed up then, giving Jaehyun and the mysterious lady place. He looked at her.

Really looked at her, capturing her face into that moment, the slight bewilderment striking him in surprise – it was quite the opposite to what he was used to; the opposite of the always sly, always calm and collected glow in her eyes, that forever remained cold. Void of all emotions, unless she was with the Snakes.

He saw it, once.

“Say,” Johnny said one afternoon, leaning back in his armchair, “are you really as bloodthirsty as it is known in the country?”

It was one of the many occasions when the princes and the Snakes got to sit together and go through plans for the night of the ball.

When Jaehyun saw her and Taeyong exchange an all-knowing glance, he knew they were in for a treat.

“Bloodthirsty?” Z purred, and a Cheshire cat grin appeared on her face, “I have a story with bloodthirst, right, Yukhei?”

The arsonist smashed the ice-cream tub fiercely against the glass of the coffee table and Jaehyun cringed.

“Z, don’t,” Yukhei warned, his deep voice laced with grumbling laughter. The assassin’s eyes sparkled as she threw her legs over the arms of the sofa and leaned her head back, locks of hair tumbling down on the other side.

“I don’t know if this counts but,” she started and Jeno placed his head between his knees, his shoulders shaking violently, “our dearest Yukhei here, tried to…court a woman and the fact that she was going through her…monthly inconveniences didn’t deter him from doing it anyways.”

A beat of silence.

Then the roar of laughter echoing through the room and disbelief dripping from the royal princes’ expressions.

“She said it was fine?” Yuta grimaced and scooted further away from Yukhei who was hitting his knee in both amusement and embarrassment.

Z nodded, “she was into it as well,” and that was it for Jaehyun, who joined the others as soon as the surprise wore off.

When he caught her eyes, he saw galaxies shining in them.

Even though it was not the first time they danced and so held hands, the roughness of her palm never failed to surprise him. Callouses lined the expanse of her hands and arms and still, she carried herself as if she was the finest of diamond, the smoothest of velvets.

Pride, perhaps.

Pride of a criminal.

He spun her in front of himself, the memorised steps making both of their movements fluid and graceful – dancers in top of a lake. She faced him with her chin high up, a light fierce determination glowing in her gold-rimmed eyes. Jaehyun forced his heart into a steady rhythm, and when the music started, they danced.

It was hard really, ignoring his cologne as he led you around the dancefloor, his eyes unreadable and yet still glowing with the warmest of lights. You were certain that if he wasn’t holding your waist you would have collapsed. This was not what you were used to – it was farm from the familiarity of the shadows and house roof tiles and in a twisted way, it frightened you to the bone. Not only a week, but even ten years’ worth of training wouldn’t have been able to ready you for the amount of attention aimed into your direction. It felt confusing – like being in a war with yourself, by living up to expectations but remaining true to yourself. The two were lightyears away from each other and you dreaded it.

But there was a plan.

And your job was to follow it.

Be the pretty lady that everyone expects you to be, Taeil’s soft-spoken voice sounded in the back of your mind and you swallowed, forcing yourself to meld your expressions into something soft, something endearing as you gazed into Jaehyun’s face.

His palm tightened on your waist in validation.

His fingers gazed the narrow slit on your waist, showing your skin off, although that small amount was nothing compared to the two giant slits that showed almost the entirety of your legs off.

Just enough so no one will have a glimpse on the dagger hidden beneath the fabric. A lady can never be safe enough.

“Seokjin is on the edge of the crowd by the pastries,” he murmured into your ear, his breath blowing the hair on the nape of your neck. Goosebumps erupted along your spine. With an elegant movement he led you so that you could take a look at the governor.

He was there, with ebony hair swept back, showing off his forehead and eyebrows – both of them beautiful and incredibly elegant. A scarlet-gowned female with breast spilling out of her dress tried to get his attention but with no success. As you turned the other direction, you felt his gaze following you, into and around the dancefloor with Jaehyun.

But you spun and twirled with Jaehyun, his santal-wood smell invading your senses, filling them, reminiscing.

And then Johnny came.

And the music stopped along with you and the prince. A wave of murmur tremored through the guests, some of them glaring, some of them whispering, some of them standing, confusion evident on their features.

Curtsying deeply, you didn’t look the eldest in the eyes, but you didn’t need to in order to know the silent fury burning in his orbs.

Yet his voice was as cold as the frost on top of a leaf as he said, “brother, I believe it is mine turn now.”

For a second Jaehyun’s fingertips lingered on your skin, but then he inclined his head. Lifting your head slowly you glanced at the two brothers, glaring at each other, letting tension rise in the Grand Ballroom.

“The music hadn’t stopped when you intruded, so I am going to need you to let me finish the first dance,” was Jaehyun’s reply, and you shivered at his icy tone. From under your lashes you glanced at Seokjin, and the elegant swirl of the champagne caught your eyes. As he stared, he tilted his head. Interested. Fascinated.

He likes the cat and mouth game, Yuta’s voice resonated in your mind, he likes the chase and the sheer idea of conquering something or someone that is desired by many. Makes him feel triumphant.

You didn’t dare questioning his knowledge about the young governor.

As you tore your gaze from him, you found that Johnny was still in the middle of the dancefloor, middle of the attention as he slowly but surely, towered over Jaehyun – who did not back down. The soft-spoken prince was biting back words colder than ice, a side of him that you had not seen before. The guests didn’t need to hear any of the words spoken between the princes to figure out the reason of the sizzling tension between them.

You didn’t despise it as much as you thought you would.

From your hidden earpiece came a static sound and then Winwin’s baritone, “he is on the way, Z, do not turn around,” and straightening your back, you brought your hands together and began to massage your fingers together.

Show vulnerability but have your back straightened at all times.

“Excuse my intrusion, Your Majesties,” the voice that purred not far from you made your muscles tensed, senses sharpened and mind clearer.

Kim Seokjin was tall, almost as tall as Johnny, who towered over most of the guests. Your diamond earrings reflected all colours of the universe as it reflected the chandelier lights; his eyes seemed to gleam in a similar way when you turned around to look at him, up close.

If you have not dealt with models and men with incredible looks you might have fainted right on spot.

You didn’t even attempt to deny the fact that he was beautiful.

Something like triumph glinted in the princes’ eyes as they glanced at Seokjin before giving him a court nod. The low chirps and murmurs of the guests slowly but steadily rose again.

“Mr Kim, how are you enjoying the ball?” queried Jaehyun, with a smile that emphasized his dimples off and melted ice. The governor bowed and his plump limps quirked upwards, into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“I find it pleasant, My Lord, although,” he added and suddenly you were hyperaware of his gaze as it slid along your body, reminding you of liquid silver and snake scale. Cold and smooth. “My breath is quite taken away.”

It was easy, really.

Way too easy in your opinion but the faint whisper in the back of your head nudged you along, to follow the plan. The cooling touch of the blade on your thigh helped you with keeping your bubbling adrenaline on the low.

You swore you saw something in Jaehyun’s eyes before he stepped away from you, along with Johnny – whose smile was close to the shade of the moonlight when it hits the ivory walls of the castle. Cool. Dark. Ever-knowing.

“Apologies for the little scene, ladies and gentlemen,” the eldest’s voice was now louder, less hushed and hurried, and his smile radiated nothing but victory, “Miss Jung is all yours, Mr Kim.”

And you danced again.

Seokjin’s hold was confident, a sort of distinct force that proved he knew he was better than everyone else here. That was what his eyes told you too. The shine of satisfaction gave everything away, and the more you stared into them, the brighter, more evident it became. Flattery. Maybe that’s what he needed.

“You are a good dancer, sir,” you mused, with a voice reminiscing of unkept promises and the softest of bedsheets. And he liked it. His lips, plump like the petals of a rose and, perhaps, with the touch of them, widened into a smirk as he gave a little bow of his head.

“You are too, Miss Jung, was it?”

As you spun around the dancefloor in a confident manner, more people started to fill the dancefloor, people with champagne bubbles in their blood and laughter in their eyes. You fought the urge to scrunch your nose. You have never wanted a cigarette more in your life.

“I am, sir. You must be Mr Kim Seokjin,” you tilted your head as you smiled at him, as honest as it could get, “I have heard about you.”

You felt his shoulders tense as he straightened himself even more, puffing out his chest like a bird before a mating dance. Men. Ridiculous, and the same.

No, not all, some distant part of your brain laughed at you and you ignored it.

“I believe I have heard your name before as well, Miss Jung. About your past, more like,” his voice was somehow apologetic, “a tragedy, really.”

You shook your head before you let him spin you out of his arms then back again, in sync with other dancers.

“It is in the past. I barely remember any of it. I grew up with the people who were entrusted with my upbringing,” you said, and he nodded in understanding.

For a while you didn’t say anything, just danced, for one round, then two and by the third your chest was heaving, and strands of your hair loosened out of the jewels adorning your head. You let his hands wander lower with each round, let his breath caress your neck, let him whisper in your ears.

And in turn you pressed your chest against his, danced your fingers on his suit-clad bicep, flashed the brightest of smiles that glowed as vividly as the crystals and gold on your fingers, around your neck, in your hair.

And you talked, and talked and whispered and giggled, until both of your ears were bleeding from it.

He spun you and you laughed and widened your eyes, so the chandelier lights reflected in them, making it seem like they were twinkling in joy, instead of calculation. He seemed enamoured and you gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulders.

It was after the fifth dance, while sipping champagne, that you said, “I need a bit of air, should we go out to the balcony?”

Walking in front of him, you put somewhat of a hot-blooded sensation in your steps so your lower back would swing more, and you practically felt the burn of his gaze as he walked behind you.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin when you stepped out on the balcony and the breeze got caught in your hair. There were not many people outside, only a couple and in the farthest corner you noted Jaemin and Mark, with their back to you. If they memorised the plan well then, they will be aware of the fact that you are there too.

Placing your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you gazed out onto the garden, filled with trees and flowery bushes, adorned with clear-white fairy lights. Seokjin leaned next to you, but with his back to the marble parapet. He sized you up and down, yet again, and pretending you haven’t noticed, you kept on sipping your champagne.

“You know,” you mused, staring at a couple behind an apple tree, “I find it so ironic, that the Royal Family arranges a ball like this,” you made a flick with your wrist, referring to the celebration, to the shrill laughs, to the liquid lies spilling out of nobles’ mouths, “for a couple of gangsters only.”

He scoffed and you dared a glance.

His thumb brushed over his tulip lips before turning to watch you, your eyes and lips with a gaze that reminded you of madness and molten gold. He was supposed to be working for the King directly. Sure.

“Not for long,” he purred before leaning closer. You leaned with him, and you were certain that Mark and Jaemin shifted closer as well.

“You know,” Seokjin continued, “I find their presence incredibly disturbing. My office is not far from the Wing they live in…and for some reason I keep on hearing crashes and these terrible curses!” his voice went over into something like a whine and you tried to pull the most sympathetic smile you had.

“Oh, dear God!” you exclaimed before placing your bejewelled hand on your chest, “You hear those people?!”

He nodded vehemently before reaching out to twist a strand of your hair around his pinkie finger. You tilted your head so he wouldn’t see the tiny, transparent earpiece, hidden by the olive-branch shaped golden ear jewel.

“I hear them, almost every day,” he whispered, “I hear everything, see everything and I might just know how to get rid of them.”

You shuddered and your earpiece sizzled.

“You do?” you spoke equally low, and let your breath mingle with his, let him near your lips with a predator’s patience.

“I do,” he then looked straight into your eyes before purring, “and I might just think about keeping you alive.”

You stilled.

Jaemin and Mark stilled.

The whole world seemed to freeze into a moment of silence and calm and the only thing you heard was the beating of your own heart and the sizzling in your ear.

Then, for the first time that night, you heard Winwin’s voice.

“Z get the fuck out of there,” his voice was urgent, and you swore you heard a crashing noise from inside the ballroom.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your mind seemed to have gone blank and your eyes were searching in Seokjin’s to find that one sign that would lead you on, that would give you exit.

But the only thing you found was that ever-knowing glint, that confident smile which you have mistaken for arrogance.

This is not good.

“Z, are you there?” Ten’s voice resonated then, and you dared to look at the two younger princes who stood frozen, with their eyes glued on you. You tore your eyes away from them and calmed the thrumming of your blood. Or at least you tried. A whole night worth of adrenalin started to climb itself back into your brain and you swallowed. Don’t go with the flow. Don’t give in. Be the master. Be the superior.

Seokjin’s finger was now completely twisted in your hair, and you felt him grabbing the nape of your neck.

Another crashing noise.

And then the screams started.

Voices filled your ear, not only through the earpiece, but from the ballroom and you were just sure that chaos has erupted inside.

Mark and Jaemin started towards the double-winged glassdoors of the balcony and you bellowed.

“No! You two stay out here!”

They halted and maybe it was the force of your voice or the sheer terror in it that made them listen to you. You didn’t care.

This was a trap.

This has been a trap all along.

“Let me go,” you said then, your voice carefully veiled with calm and venom, and he smiled, that irritating, confident smile and you swore you have never wanted to punch someone so hard in the nose before.

As he let go you stepped away immediately, following the screams and chaotic noises into the ballroom.

You didn’t look back at Seokjin before throwing the doors open and stepping inside. Most of the people fled, a couple zipped past you with champagne stains on their outfits. Then the doors crashed close, trapping at least fifty people inside, along with yourself.

And the Snakes and Princes who were inside the ballroom.

It all went down in slow motion.

The dancefloor of the gigantic room cleared out, the remaining guests pushing themselves up against the walls. Pure terror was written all over their faces, at the scene that played in the very middle of the room.

Prince Chenle stood there.

With a knife at his throat.

And at the end of the knife, the person who was holding it…

Junhui.

You stopped breathing as you took in his face, took in that familiar, sharp smile.

As your eyes met with Yukhei’s from across the room, you were certain he was horrified, just as much as you.

They were here.

The Black Spade was here.

#dangerously #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct mafia #nct royal #royal jaehyun #mafia yn #royal fanfiction

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