#i rarely wear makeup if i’m not going to see anyone but the vision……the vision was so strong with this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragonmuse · 2 years ago

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@dimoverdelerium suggested: (thinking about BBC Uncle) is there any verse where Izzy takes up drag? Ideally I think this would be Stede/Izzy or Stede/Izzy/Eddy.

H'OKAY SO! I set this in I know about popular. So Stede/Izzy/Eddy, but the sex wound up being Lucius/Izzy. Hope that works for you! This gets explicit. There is a scene that is very quickly negotiated, but not in a way visible to the reader that has some mean talk, roleplaying an affair, gender fuckery,

The worst part about it was that he hadn’t even been drinking. He wasn’t even offered anything in particular. No bribe. They were just prepping for the night, Izzy hanging around the bar when Leda came out, lips pursed.

“Buttons just called out sick,” he told Lucius. “And that’s on top of John and Frenchie being on vacation. We’ll be terribly short.”

“So do a few extra numbers,” Lucius shrugged. “Or I can see if anyone can come in at the last minute.”

“Everyone was already doing something additional or new tonight, I don’t want to overtax them, but I think it’s a hair too late to call in someone else. I really did want to deliver a full show tonight after last week’s debacle.”

Izzy had missed last week, a rare occurrence, but it had been a series of accidents and errors culminating in the sound system dying. No one had come home happy and Izzy had heard about it from every side.

“Let me call around,” Lucius decided. “I’ll let you know.”

Izzy watched as Lucius went through a roster of names, his sigh getting heavier with every call. Then he disappeared into the changing room. The Kraken and Leda emerged with him a few minutes later. Their voices were all overlapping, so Izzy tried to tune them all out.

Mistake. The next time he looked up because silence had fallen, all three of them were leveraging him with identical speculative looks.

“No,” he said defensively, despite having no idea what the look was for.

“Just for one show, Iz,” Eddy gave him her best wide-eyed plea.

“You’ll look gorgeous, I promise.”

Oh fuck no.

“C’mon, storm cloud,” Lucuis waggled his eyebrows. “You’re not scared are you?”

“You do it then,” he challenged Lucius.

“Nope, I’ve got other duties. You’re just weighing down a barstool.”

“I don’t work for any of you,” he reiterated.

“Darling,” Stede said softly. “Aren’t you even a little curious?”

No. No, he wasn’t. Izzy knew what he looked like. He wouldn’t be a lady like Leda or a vampy knockout like Eddy. He’d be his mother, probably. What a nightmare. He opened his mouth to tell them that, but no one was looking at him like this was a joke. They seemed earnest. Leda looked a little desperate.

He looked down into his water.

“I won’t let them make you look or feel bad,” Lucius was at his back. How did he do that? It was like Izzy’s defenses didn’t even register him as a threat. “Okay?”

“Don’t know how you’re going to do that.”

“C’mon, storm cloud, try something new. We talked about trying new things, right?”

“...fine,” he conceded and got a kiss on his swallow tattoo for his trouble.

Fuck. He was so goddamn easy to lockpick now. Maybe the door was just hanging open.

“I’m gonna do your makeup,” the Kraken decided, pure joy in her voice. Izzy just nodded heavily and accepted her hand when it crossed into his vision.

The dressing room was not one of Izzy’s favorite places. Too many competing smells, noise and a high chaos level made it almost unbearable. But the Kraken didn’t take him there. Instead, she tugged him to the little side table near the stage entrance that was usually where Alma and Charlie would park themselves when they spent any time at the bar.

“Stay,” the Kraken said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can you walk in heels?” Leda asked, sitting down across from her. She was in baby blue tonight, one of her frothy ball gowns that rustled every time she moved.

“No,” Izzy rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Darling, you know you’re wearing heels right now. Those boots aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Short ones.”

“We can work with short,” she decided. “No need to risk your ankles when you’re already doing us a favor. Now. I need a list of songs that you’re very familiar with.”

“....why?” Izzy stared at her.

“You can’t just stand on the stage and do nothing. A lip sync to a song you already know should do it unless you have a stage worthy talent that you’ve heretofore kept to yourself.”

“...oh fuck,” he groaned.

“You’ll be fine,” Leda assured him very briskly. “You’ll see. It’s not like going out there in your own skin.”

“Whose skin would it be?”

“Excellent question, actually. You’ll need a name too, but let’s focus on a song first.”

Izzy just said the first few songs that came to his head that didn’t have a male singer and Leda seized on one. She turned it on and made him listen to it as the Kraken re-emerged with a heavy makeup bag, took his chin in her talons and started gently slapping his face around.

“Just look at me,” she suggested.

“But-”

“It’ll make for a good distraction,” she grinned.

Studying Eddy’s face was one of the great pleasures of Izzy’s life and he was rarely allowed to indulge as long as he’d like before she was moving somewhere else, getting annoyed about it or kissing him to distraction. Tonight, she was focused and had something to do and he could look as long as he liked. It almost made all of this worth it. Vaguely he registered Leda hammering at him about the song, but mostly he was staring at Eddy.

The Kraken’s makeup was heavy and settled into some Eddy’s deeper wrinkles, but smoothed away some other small imperfections. She had apparently decided against a wig tonight, her natural hair caught up in a complicated updo that probably had some kind of foam base beneath it given the height. Some of her tendrils hung down around her face, softening her cheekbones. There were gray hairs sneaking into her eyebrows.

Her eyes were all over his face too, intent on their work and it was nearly hypnotic.

“Okay, got to close ‘em now,” she said, tapping him on the nose with a brush.

“Hm?”

“Close your eyes, Iz,” she repeated, a little more tenderly.

He closed them with a sigh. It was only once he’d shut her out that he became aware he had a raging hard on. Figured. Wet things smeared over his eyes and it took a lot of his willpower not to flinch away. The Kraken wouldn’t hurt him like this. Not anymore, anyway. Not with Leda watching. Not without permission. It wasn’t life or death, just a little game they played that had clear rules and hard stops.

“Oh, good idea, dear heart,” Leda murmured.

“I’m a genius with this shit,” the Kraken agreed. “Talked to Pete and she’s got that like one slinky thing that she never wears, but she keeps here like she might?”

“I know just the one,” Leda’s voice was close, practically on his cheek. “I’ll get my extra padding out of storage to go with it. If we need to cut it down, we can, I don’t really need it.”

“Thanks, love.”

He heard Leda’s heels clack away. The Kraken was doing something to his eyebrows again.

“Did that already.”

“You’ve got thick brows,” the Kraken said, amused. “Got to get them glued down.”

“How do you do that?”

“With glue.”

Izzy exhaled slowly, “How do I get that out?”

“Soap and water,” she assured him. “You know. A lot of it.”

“Great.”

“We’ll get you cleaned up after,” she assured him. Then she was leaning in and blowing slowly over his eyebrows, the stream of air sending all his hair on its end. “Too bad though, could be hot with you in a skirt.”

“I-”

“Another time maybe,” the Kraken said amused. “Maybe just a skirt instead of the whole getup.”

Izzy had no idea what to say to that. He liked getting up under Eddy’s skirts. Leda’s were generally gone before anything naked happened. Stede didn’t seem interested in that. Eddy obviously did. What about the other queens? Was that something they did? Questions bred in his head, but he stored them away. For another time. For a...

Hm.

“All right, there we go. You hold on there, I’m going to go get a wig cap and a wig,” the Kraken got up. Before walking off, she reached out, cupped his throat in his hand. “You look beautiful, Iz.”

“Sure,” he said without much faith.

“You’ll see.”

She was only gone a few seconds, not long enough for regret and worry to pour in, before Leda was there in her place, holding a garment bag and some ominously shaped pieces of foam.

“I was thinking we could get you changed behind the curtain,” she suggested. “Private and away from the other girls.”

“...yeah fine.”

He followed Leda backstage. They’d fucked here more than once (Stede had some kind of stage fetish, Izzy was almost certain), but he’d never skinned out of his clothes when it was open to the public.

It made wiggling into pantyhose less strange, if only because he was not interested in staying that vulnerable for any length of time. The much padded bra that Leda helped him into was uncomfortable, but oddly reminiscent of a holster. The dress was....a dress. It was a deep burgundy and made of something silky. There was a slit in one thigh which was laughable considering it was already pretty short. It had sleeves at least, short ones, but there. The neckline was conservative too, not showing off his chest hair.

“There you are!” the Kraken laughed. “I thought maybe he ran off.”

“Not yet,” Leda smiled so hard that her eyes crinkled up which was, as always, adorable. Asshole. “I have his boots anyway.”

“Wouldn’t stop him. Iz once ran through the streets of Berlin barefoot in just his underwear and a gun holster.”

“You going to tell her why?” Izzy asked archly.

“...anyway!” The Kraken produced a mound of hair. “I’ve got a wig for you.”

“Dear heart,” Leda’s smile grew impossibly larger. “What did you do?”

“She found a-”

“Shhh, Iz, don’t move or I might STAB you with a bobby pin.”

“You brought it up,” he pointed out, aware he was smiling just as broadly as Leda.

“He’s right,” Leda agreed. “You must tell me at some point.”

“I’ll tell you when he’s on stage.”

“Oh, I think you should tell me when Izzy is with us, dear heart. I’d love to hear both sides.”

“Their side has more nudity,” Izzy informed her.

The bobby pin did dig in a little, but Izzy figured it was worth it to hear Leda giggling. It wasn’t Izzy’s fault that Leda asked him follow up questions after the Kraken told her a story. It wasn’t as if the Kraken would want him to lie to their beloved spouse.

A heavy hat of hair was settled on his head. It was hot. He was itchy.

“Here,” Leda kneeled down in front of him which was a little distracting. “Foot.”

Izzy took a second. She tapped on the top of his foot. He offered it feeling a little ridiculous as a black heel was shoved unceremoniously onto it. He stepped into the next one himself. They were higher than his boots, but not by much. They were a sensible black and had a strap so he didn’t feel like they were going to fall off.

The Kraken and Leda both took a step back from him. They still towered over him, but nothing short of a stepladder was going to fix that.

“Huh,” Leda tilted her head. “That is...uncanny.”

“What?” he crossed his arms over his chest, only to encounter scratchy beads and padding.

“You look just like your sister,” the Kraken declared. “But hotter. Not that your sister- okay. I don’t have a save for this. Help me out here.”

“You look like a very lovely feminine version of yourself,” Leda said smoothly. “Do you want to see?”

Izzy didn’t really, but he allowed himself to be trooped down the stairs and into the dressing room. The hubbub of the room came to a dead halt as they stepped inside. Roach dropped the necklace she’d been in the process of putting on. The Menace’s heels stopped tapping against the filing cabinet.

He was about to growl something and stomp out when he caught sight of someone in the full length mirror at the end of the room. For a moment...fuck, he did look like Delly. Stepping closer though and he saw the differences. The wig for one, which was one of the Kraken’s, was much longer and not at all Delly’s style. It was long, hanging down almost to his elbows and lightly curled, some of it was looped back in braids which was almost pretty.

The makeup was way overblown, but...it was all right. Not the Kraken’s gothic nightmare and not Leda’s Marie Antoinette powder. It was more like the Kraken had genuinely tried to make Izzy beautiful.

His cheeks were hollower somehow, his cheekbones glowing gold and the lightest pink. His lips had been overdrawn into something like full without being clownish, painted a warm brownish-pink, closer to this natural lip color than either of them wore. The eye look was smoky, drawn out at the sides, making his eyes look further set apart and more open than usual, even with the heavy lashes. His skin was smoothed into something like an even tone.

The press on nails Leda had produced weren’t as long as the ones she or the Kraken wore. They were a glossy black tipped in silver sparkles. The Kraken pulled a lacy choker from her pocket and it went around Izzy’z neck like a sensuous promise. Cinched, it was just tight enough to be a reminder of who had put it there.

Izzy’s heart beat double time.

“Pics or it didn’t happen!” Roach declared and then there was a flash.

“Jesus fuck,” Izzy groaned, but he was about to get on stage in this getup. Pictures would be the minimum of how this would get recorded.

“Somethings missing,” Roach frowned, looking down at her phone. Her wig was made of cigarettes today and the dress was white and brown to match.

“I was thinking of more jewelry,” Leda frowned. “Maybe a bracelet?”

“No, I got it!” Roach grabbed a pencil and was suddenly there in Izzy’s face, smelling beguilingly of tobacco. Izzy could use smoke. He hadn’t smoked in fifteen years, but his teeth itched for it now. “Hold still.”

And Izzy...just did. Goddamnit. What had he become? Roach put the pencil about an inch above below Izzy’s eye and ground it in, then rocked back on her heels. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

“Huh,” the Kraken grabbed Izzy’s chin and examined his face. “It is better. I think the foundation covering up your tattoo fucked with how I think you’re supposed to look. That helps.”

“Very classic,” Leda approved.

Izzy turned to the mirror. Roach had added a mole. It did look right, not far off from where his tattoo should be visible.

He didn’t look like himself at all. The heels changed his center of gravity a little. The bra pulled at him with his regular posture, so he threw his shoulders back a little. The padding gave curves, softly rounded hips and a bit of ass that he’d never had.

The dress was so fucking short, cutting off just a few inches below his dick (which he had not let Leda tuck, the dress wasn’t that tight and he had his limits. Two pairs of pantyhose did plenty of work there anyway). When he reached up to touch the choker, his hand was held in an almost entirely different shape in deference to the nails. The gesture took on an elegance.

“I get it,” he said quietly, so his voice wouldn’t ruin the illusion.

“Get what, darling?” Leda fussed over the wig, resettling the hair.

“Why you like this. It’s just...being someone else. For a bit.”

“Yes,” Leda smiled at her in the mirror. “A little of that, I must admit. It’s a vacation.”

Carefully, Izzy reached up and pushed a lock of dark hair away from the eyelashes. It all made him want to hold himself diffently.

Be different.

“Raine Daze.” He said, more to himself than to her.

“What’d you say?”

The Kraken slid their hand over Raine’s stomach, pulled her in tight. Leda reached out to fluff out a bit of the wig. The three of them made an interesting picture. In their hands, Raine didn’t look like a pugnacious fighter.

Instead, Raine looked almost delicate. Certainly petite. No one would make fun of her for that or imply she had a complex. Women were allowed to be small and careful. Even if they had broad shoulders and a pronounced brow.

“That’s my drag name,” he said a little more firmly, “Raine Daze.”

Plenty of women their age had smoked too much once upon a time. Add a little breath in and softening around some vowels and it was no harder than doing some foolish accent to fool someone on the phone. He did that all the time for work. It didn’t sound any stranger than the way Leda talked or how Pete sometimes climbed into a full on falsetto when she was really getting into things.

“Very clever,” Leda praised. “Don’t you think, dear heart?”

“Suits you,” the Kraken agreed, hand rubbing over Raine’s stomach for a slow contemplative moment. “Yeah. It’s good.”

It felt good. Why did it feel good? Izzy didn’t want to be a woman, wasn’t interested in the trappings, but it felt...risky. And he did love an adrenaline rush.

“Put this on,” Leda thrust a bracelet at him.

Izzy didn’t take it right away. Leda paused, bewildered, then shook it at him a little and then with a frown, he did take it. But a part of him wanted to refuse it. Not because he didn’t want it. Just to be a little difficult.

Which was very very odd. He usually wanted to be good for Leda. To get told that he’d done well. He might really want that most of all from Lucius, but he craved it from Leda and the Kraken too. That part of him was immutable, as embarrassing as it sometimes was. He put on the bracelet with a frown. The Kraken’s hold tightened as if catching his mood.

“I put you on in the middle of things,” Leda laced her fingers through his, holding his hand, oblivious. “So you have twenty minutes or so to go over your song. Or wait in the wings. Whatever you want, darling.”

“All right.”

He didn’t realize that meant they were leaving until they were gone. Until he was alone with the woman in the mirror. Leaning in, he studied her face more closely. He got used to the nails as ran his hands over the beaded dress, over his arms, and more sheepishly, the mounded breasts. With a quick glance to make sure everyone was really gone, he practiced walking in the low heels. They made his hips sway and when he walked back towards the mirror, it felt more natural to put one hand on his newly shaped hip.

One of Roach’s cigarettes had fallen to the floor. Izzy picked it up and held it between his fingers. The gesture worked well in the mirror. He smiled at her. She smiled back. She pressed play on her phone and listened to the song. Let it move her. Why pretend she didn’t know how to dance?

After three repetitions, she stopped it and took the cigarette out with her. The show was in full swing with Teal and the Menace doing their new tango number, where they passed a knife back and forth between their lips.

The Kraken was waiting in the wings and when Raine came close, she was snagged tight to the Kraken’s side again.

“You don’t have to,” the whisper came in the dark. “I told Leda already, we could just do another number. No one will...I didn’t think you’d get this far.”

“I did. I’m here,” Raine said without any hint of tightness or stress. She felt none. She was loose. She was easy. Raine could be easy. “I’m ready.”

“Fuck me running,” the Kraken laughed without sound. “You’re amazing.”

“You too. Always.”

They couldn’t kiss with all the makeup and hair in the way, but Raine felt like they had anyway.

“And now,” Lucius’ voice rolled over the P.A. system, “a debut act for all of your titillation and adulation. Please give it up for.... Raineeeeeee Daze!”

The music started and Raine stepped out on stage. The lights were bright. She couldn’t see the audience and that was perfect. Guitar kicked off and she grabbed the mic, cigarette still in hand. She pretended to take a drag, blowing out imaginary smoke before mouthing into the mic:

So this ain't the end, I saw you again, today

I had to turn my heart away

The cigarette fell to the stage, ground beneath her heel.

Smiled like the sun, kisses for everyone

And tales, it never fails

It wasn’t hard to vamp around the stage. Raine had watched a hundred shows at this point, seen dozens of queens. She knew bending backwards as she mouthed the words would bring applause and that shaking her borrowed tits would get hoots and hollers.

She hadn’t known how good it would feel. The high of applause and shouts. It wasn’t something she’d want to do often, even with the confident front, she could feel herself shying away from the eyes on her. It was too much, the way getting fucked a third time in a night was too much, but also felt unbelievably good.

At one point, she let all the hair fall over her face and as the music played: ‘You gonna burn, burn, burn, she ran her hand up her leg from ankle to hip then moaned obscenely with the music ‘Ooh, Barracuda’ and threw back her head to excellent effect judging by the audience reaction.

Right then, Raine knew exactly what she wanted and if she worked fast and right, she could probably even get it. It wasn’t hard to smile at the audience when she was finished or accept the tips. When she stepped into the wings once more, Leda was beaming at her,

“That was just excellent, darling. I loved every second. You should be a regular.”

“No way,” Raine told her without pausing to even think about it. “But...maybe an occasional guest spot if you’re in need.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leda laughed. “We’ll meet you backstage after, help you get everything off.”

“Mm,” she continued back. There was another number left to go, but Lucius would be done announcing for the night.

Raine did not take off the dress or the makeup or the wig. She did wiggle out of her pantyhose and then dash out to the bathroom. Then she scrambled to find a pen and paper in Stede’s office, wrote the fastest note she could while keeping legible, before taking off again.

Lucius was behind the bar, but the Kraken and Leda were still on stage flirting with the audience like they did sometimes after a good show, talking and laughing with the regulars. Perfect.

Raine slid into a barstool. Not the one one in the dark corner. One in the middle. Lucius turned around from mixing a martini and spotted her. With a grin, he set down the martini (apparently in front of the wrong person, judging by the protests) and planted his elbows on the bar in front of her.

“That was some show Miss Daze.”

“Mrs,” she corrected in a throaty contralto. “I’m a married woman.”

“Are you?” His eyes drifted over her, and yes, that was the familiar heat, not banked by her temporary disguise. Even better. “That’s too bad. Can I get you a drink?”

“I have a very particular order,” she murmured, reached into her cleavage and pulled out the note, holding it between her two fingers like she had the cigarette. “Do you think you could manage this?”

Lucius’ eyebrows flew into his hairline, but he took the note. The air seemed to thicken as he read, her uncertainty cracking through the confidence the dress and the hair gave her. It was only as he folded the note up and made a point of putting it in his front pocket so he could adjust himself that Raine started to breathe again.

Lucius leaned in, his breath against her lips. “Mrs. Daze, I would be fucking delighted. Green.”

“Green?” She checked.

“Very,” his eyes dropped to her lips, then dragged back up to her eyes. Without looking away he called out, “Swede? I’m taking my fifteen.”

“All right!”

“You go first, m’am,” Lucius stood up slowly. “We should go separately so we don’t alert your...husband?”

“We wouldn’t want that,” she agreed.

She got up and walked across the floor, making sure her hips swayed. Even without the padding, she felt like she still had them. The dress made her feel voluptuous. Sensual. The closet door was discreet. Lucius had pointed it out to her once fondly and now she slipped inside, the cool, astringent dark a welcoming balm after all the lights. A minute later, the door opened again, and her heart pounded in fear, but it was the right man.

She could tell by his hands on her hips, then his mouth on hers. Why did it feel so different to be held this way? Lucius hadn’t changed, the way he touched her hadn’t either. But his surety did things to her just now. Made her feel even smaller than usual, but in the best kind of way.

“The things I want to do to you, Mrs. Daze,” Lucius nosed aside her hair to whisper in her ear. “But I know time is of the essence.”

“Yes,” she breathed out, inclining her neck back, encouraging him to nibble at it. “I’m desperate, you have to help me.”

“Lucky for you, I know what to do for a desperate woman.” His hands slid down, curling on the edges of her dress and rucking it slowly up her thighs. “Your husband can’t satisfy you?”

“He does,” she said, not able to throw Stede that far under the bus even if it was all pretend. “But he can’t give me what I really need.”

“Tell me what you need,” Lucius growled in her ear.

“I need someone to fuck me so hard that I cry,” she groaned, grinding against him. “I want to feel your cock for the next three days.”

Lucius bit her neck and Raine moaned.

Usually, Izzy was silent during their sex. Usually, Lucius set the pace, the tone, the everything really. They both liked that, Lucius having complete control and Izzy yielding without a fight, going deep under into a place of perfect submission. But Raine was different. Raine wanted to dictate things and she wanted to moan and cry out and make a mess. Raine wanted to be a brat.

“Can you handle me?” Raine challenge. “Or are you just another young buck with a big fucking ego?”

“I can handle you,” Lucius’ voice dropped an entire octave. “And my ego isn’t what you have to worry about being big.”

He got his hands under her thighs and managed to lift her for just long enough to set her on top of a low bookcase that was cramped with cleaning supplies. Then he yanked so she was teetering just on the edge.

“Prove it,” she fired back and Lucius’ eyes glittered in the dark.

She heard his zipper come down and the sound raced over her nerve endings. When he slid his hands up her thighs and under her dress it was like it was the first time he’d ever touched her. When he encountered no underwear, his breath caught.

“You expecting someone?” Lucius asked her roughly, fingers digging into her ass.

“I told you I didn’t have time to fuck around,” she goaded. “So I did your work for you.”

“I could’ve done that. Gotten you wet for me,” he bent her leg up, pressed a biting kiss to the inside of her knee. “Maybe next time.”

“You assume they’ll be a next time.”

A sting slap hit her thigh and she cried out. Another caught her ass and she arched into it.

“Mouthy thing,” he growled. “You want more?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.

He did dare. He rained down three heavy blows that left her skin stung and warm.

“You better shut up, Mrs. Daze or we’re going to get the wrong kind of attention.”

“Make me,” she hitched her heels up his back.

He didn’t say another word, just palmed her open and then his cock was at her hole.

“Green?” Lucius asked.

“Green,” she said quickly.

Then he was pushing in. The prep she’d done had been a little slap dash, so the cry she let out was genuine and full of delicious agony. He slid into the hilt, inexorable and strong, holding her hips tight. When he was fully seated, they both panted for a moment, breath intermingling. The music outside pumped out loud enough that she could feel the beat in her shoulders where they were pressed against the wall.

No one would hear.

Lucius rolled his hips once and she moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. She dug in her heels.

“Give it to me,” she demanded.

“Careful what you ask for.” His grip tightened.

“I know what I want.”

He pulled almost all the way back out and then slammed back into her and she threw back her head and yelled out. She reached out to grip his biceps, nails biting into his shirt. He did it again and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Again and they fell along with her last inhibition. Her moans were wanton, her demands bubbling out of her: harder, faster, more....

And Lucius delivered. His grip was iron as he pounded into her, sharp, staccato strokes broken up with brutally long ones, that ground into her. He grunted with effort, the sound counterpoint to her moans and the slap of their skin coming together.

It was freeing to be loud, almost as much as to be silent. The thought was the last one she had before Lucius ramped up somehow, finding another gear, and any attempt to think was dashed to pieces. Her entire world was narrowed down to his hands on her hips, his cock thrusting into her with a series of wet sucking sounds.

He came hard, burying himself in her and she clung to him through it, gasping as pulled out.

“You didn’t come,” he said, carelessly as if he barely cared.

“You didn’t make me come,” she hissed. “If you want to do this again, you’ll finish the job.”

He leaned in and bit her neck, worrying a bit of skin between his teeth until she cried out. “You want to come, you’ll take what I give you.”

“Then give me something worth having,” she spat.

He pulled out of her and then replaced his cock with three fingers. She gasped as his teeth sunk deeper into her neck. He pulled back just to lick once over the mark he’d made as he cruelly spread his fingers inside of her, opening her wet hold even wider.

“Is that what you wanted?” He slid in a fourth finger and tears really did start to fall from her eyes. “You can’t stand not being filled up, can you? No wonder you need more than your husband. I could call in every dick in this place and it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you, would it?”

“No,” she denied even as she pressed back against his fingers. “Just you. Right now. Just you.”

“Damn right.” Lucius dropped to his knees, his fingers jarring inside her, but not withdrawing. If anything he was somehow getting them deeper.

Then his mouth was on her cock and Raine sobbed in relief. He sucked her in, close wet heat. With every bob of his head, he fucked his fingers in and out of her. She didn’t know which way to rut, against the heady intrusion or into the warm, wet welcome of his mouth. In the end she didn’t have to choose because Lucius gave her both until she was spilling onto his mouth with a moan that ratched up an entire octave.

After, they both sat in silence for a minute. Lucius carefully withdrew and Raine winced at the wet mess. But then there was something wet and cold pressed against her.

“Just a wipe,” Lucius said softly. “Have this place pretty well stocked.”

“Love a prepared man,” she exhaled shakily. She was cleaned up and then he was out of reach, presumably taking care of himself. “All right?”

“Yeah, very alright. You okay?”

“Very,” she assured him. “That was...I don’t know.”

“It was new,” he agreed. “You don’t have to know right now. We can talk about it later. Maybe in the morning.”

“Yeah.” In the morning when the dress, the wig and the makeup was long gone. That would be good. “Kiss me?”

He did, even as he smoothed her dress back down her thighs and righted her wig a little.

“Proud of you,” Lucius told her. “Getting up there, doing all that. And this. Asking for what you wanted. Pretty big stuff.”

“Yeah,” she exhaled. “Yeah it was. Thanks.”

“Can I still call you storm cloud when you’re like this?”

“Why the fuck do you think I picked the name to begin with?”

“You’re such a romantic,” Lucius said fondly and kissed her again. “Come on, let’s get you back to your wives before they come looking.”

The interlude in the closet had felt like hours, but when they stepped back into the bar, no one had moved much. The Kraken was sitting on the edge of the stage, talking to someone and Leda was dancing with the Menace. No one had missed them.

“Wow, okay,” Lucius laughed, looking at her. “Uh...let’s go to the dressing room and pretend I started talking your makeup off already.”

“Why?” she frowned.

“Because you’ve got mascara running down your cheeks and lipstick absolutely everywhere.”

“Oh,” she scrutinized him. “You’ve got lipstick...everywhere too.”

“Lucky for you, I know how to deal with that.”

She snagged the Kraken’s chair and Lucius grabbed one of the communal boxes of makeup wipes. There was some other things too, cold cream and whatnot, but the end result was that when the Menace and Roach strolled back in, all they found was Raine scrubbing glue out her eyebrows. Lucius was already back behind the bar.

“Great show,” the Menace said with a hint of warmth.

“I sent the whole thing to Frenchie, he’s going to be pissed that he missed it,” Roach slapped Raine on the shoulder. “Pretty good debut.”

“Thanks.”

“You like it?” The Menace asked.

“It was all right. Kind of like skydiving. Good skill to have, fun once and a while, but I’m not looking to make it a regular thing.”

“Fair,” Roach nodded.

The Kraken and Leda came back in with Teal. The Kraken scowled at Raine in her chair, but then gently helped her get the wig and wig cap off. With those gone, it was just Izzy again, except in a dress.

A dress that probably needed to get to a dry cleaners. He let Leda unzip him, but stepped back to remove it and drop it discreetly in the bag that Lucius used for Leda and the Kraken’s laundry. He’d take care of it. It wasn’t a secret, but he didn’t want to broadcast it to the rest of them. Instead, he got back in his street clothes and wound up helping Leda de-drag.

“I don’t feel like waiting until we get home,” she explained mildly, but her eyes dropped to his neck where there was probably a hell of a hickey forming. “I’m guessing you’re...tired.”

“No,” he countered. “Being up there...dunno. I get why you two stay up so late sometimes. Feel really awake. Like I had a pot of coffee injected into my veins.”

“Is that so,” and Leda had left the building. That was Stede eyeing Izzy up with hunger.

They did not linger at the bar that night. Eddy had picked up the scent in the air or maybe just also spotted the hickey. They bracketed him all the way home, talking idly about his debut, about a dozen other things, but Stede and Eddy’s hands were all over him. Touching, testing. Interested.

He had absolutely no complaints about the night that followed. Even though he really couldn’t get it up again, he could definitely still enjoyed getting slowly fucked by Stede even (or because of) as sore as he was, and sucking Eddy off with all the adoration she deserved.

If he slept unusually late the next morning, he figured that was his right. He still woke up with Eddy smeared over him and Stede’s heartbeat steady under his hand. His body ached in the best way. Later, he’d call Lucius and they’d talk about the new things they’d discovered. For now though, he lay awake between his spouses and idly thought over music.

Raine could probably kill “Take it Off” by the Donnas.

#leda house and the kraken verse #i know about popular #ficlet #au of the au

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columbiafawn3 · 3 hours ago

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I don’t rlly have anything to say I just wanna post smth.

I’m wearing teal blue eyeshadow crayon and put lip gloss on top of it, and I feel kinda slay. It feels cool, a bit rock star.

Yk that’s my fear; that I look rock star. I don’t wanna look like a tragic Tim Minchin or some Viking impersonator. Alas I fear that is what ppl think I’m trying to achieve. I really don’t know. I know it’s not what I’m looking for, so maybe that’s enough — have faith in the execution of my creative vision.

Idk. I don’t think it’s that tragic. ESP given that I put shimmers and fun things on my eyes. I think the thing I don’t like about the rock star makeup look is the weird self-seriousness about it. It’s meant to make them look fierce and edgy. I don’t really wanna look fierce and edgy. I want to look interesting and fun. Ofc sometimes I do wanna look scary (case in point my current dark teal eye situation) —

Sorry there’s transport police telling off a group of boys for not having opal cards right in front of me so I’m trying to be absorbed in my phone but I’m waiting for them to come ask for my ticket.

Ok well they checked my ticket and it was fine yay. They didn’t even make a fuss about the concession entitlement card which I always hate. Like girl why do you care that much

— Ok I guess my problem with the guy liner of people like Tim Minchin and Billy Joel is the gender bending without going all the way. I just sense this sense of ‘restraint’ in it, which I don’t like in anyone. I really can’t put my finger on why it annoys me. It could very well be a projection of my own conflicted relationship with makeup.

Like realistically if I knew someone who wore eyeliner like that, I would think it was interesting and it would probably make me feel safer. But seeing images of ppl like Tim Minchin or Billy Joel or David Bowie, it just makes me cringe. I guess it’s like “wow you really thought you were doing something”. It’s sort of like this self-congratulatory “guys look at me I’m free from toxic masculinity”. And then the fact it’s always black or rlly boring colours just reinforces the fact that they’re really not that liberated.

Yeah now I’ve got myself wondering why it gets me so much. Maybe it’s because I’m envious that they get to deviate from masculine norms without having it be attributed to “gay” and therefore dismissed. If a straight guy is wearing eyeliner it’s like “wow he’s so deviant and cool”. But idk maybe it gets dismissed on them too.

And im also thinking about what im trying to express through my makeup. Because at first thought, I think i do it for me. I don’t really care if other people notice it or think anything of it. In fact I don’t like when people compliment my outfit or my makeup because to me, it’s like “oh you don’t get it”. It’s sort of like fan behaviour. I almost want it to be a signal to those who know, like a secret code to find those rare like minded people who are also in hiding.

But in terms of what I’m trying to communicate with my makeup, I don’t think I’m trying to communicate with the straight world. I really don’t expect them to get it and I get a bit frustrated when they try to interpret it because it makes me spiral and question myself.

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heylinfanclub · 7 months ago

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Me kickin my feet and thinking bout jack

Reasons I burnt out largely to do with the way tumblrs changed but also, self discovery. For a while Jack was my defensive bundle of ‘let out emotions of ugh and hrgh about the world, that need to destroy and disconnect’.

But now I’m becoming a more. Thoughtful bout my experiences person. Perhaps I am simply no longer a young-young adult. (More reasons to play adult jack).

But thinkin bout it I did go back, how I’d go about it.

No fancy blog decor anymore, I’d make a caard link to about/rules or somethin. Barely anyone goes to the blog page proper, and the effort felt like something that alienated people who couldn’t make the effort. I paid for my last blog set up. Paid. For a graphic designed background and basic coding. Stuff I coulda learned to do myself if I had the time and energy. But why should I feel I have to? It’s like makeup. Not for everyone. But nice and showy as a concept (Jack likes it. Jack doesn’t want his blog to be plain. But fuck em he’s just a character).

Goin back to him would be very. ‘Alright. Jack definitely audhd like me (and it’s played for laughs in the show. Some folks don’t like representational HCs bout characters who are treated poorly (usually cause they don’t wanna think of the other characters as BIGOTS but sometimes people r just bullies and don’t know why they’re bullying someone, they just Do It, especially teens). Jack definitely gender queer (also mocked in the show and makes him very jaded toward the heroes. Who, let’s not be surprised, were already sexist, and I won’t change that, cause it’s a fuckin Cowboy, a sheltered monk and a wannabe playboy. Ofc they’re fucking sexist). They can grow up but Jack will hold onto grudges. Kimiko the only Real One to him, and she still calls him a mamas boy (she’s not wrong).

The audhd lense is so much stronger than adhd alone to rationalize some of his behaviors. The startled screaming (I get scared of LEAVES FALLING IN MY PERIPHERAL VISION); the millions of hobbies but low maintenance for all but a couple of his special interests (machines, weapons, costumery); rigid moral values (not Justice, but EVIL, but he sees his evil as righteous [as in, he’s in the right to act out however he pleases], so that’s another part of the moral soup he feeds himself); HE STIMMY MY STIMMY BOY; Bad at basic socializing (intense, bad w personal space, doesn’t listen well, easily manipulated by strangers) but Talkative, Informative and Capable of Scripting (literal and metaphorical);

Ofc this means jack has a huge soup of ‘shit that’s ‘wrong’ with me’ now and wondering how much I wanna curb his internalized ableism as not to rp sadness always. Like he certainly fights himself on the mental health front, thinking he either doesn’t have problems or it’s OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE PROBLEMS. He’s very good at fixing up flexible workarounds for his issues as have his parents always been there to push him (past his limits or, rarely, in a way familiar to themselves (genetic audhd), that actually helps). So he doesn’t think he ‘struggles’ and shockingly, doesn’t moralize his failings (he turns them into physical health issues or just says he IS DOING IT ON PUROSE). Being Tired; Being Bored; Being Burnout. It’s all better excuses than ‘ah I have a developmental disability’.

Decidin to make him less self conscious of the albinism. Yes his parents encouraged him to dye his hair and wear contacts. But he’s the one who eventually took that to wearing Red contacts and dying his hair red too (it was already orangey at the roots by the time he was an adolescent. The white-white color was like, towhead childhood (it’s a bit of a bad beauty standard issue to assume all people with albinism are just this sheer flat white. Lots of freckly, red cheeks, reddish or brownish hair). Though the monkey fur still comes out white. Cause an albino monkey is still white).

Ofc his adult verse is my favorite so when he IS kicked out of his parents house, he DOES begin to struggle. Much like me. And I guess it was hard to write bout that MID STRUGGLES. Doubt Jack is gonna get therapy any time soon, but he does have a lot of ‘breakthroughs’ with himself. Bout how he’d prefer to do his crime. How he’d HAVE TO, without his parents dime. (Not counting all the wealth he saved up in his youth waitin for this day,,,). Gotta really budget now. His parents were already weaning him off the family bank card season 3ish.

Wanna write a couple sentences per character in the series bout how he feels bout them. But knowin me I cannot keep things short lmao.

#me.

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kirascottage · 3 years ago

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dating jj maybank

jj maybank x gender neutral. reader

word count: 1.8k

cw: headcanons, overall domestic fluff, angst if you squint till ur visions blurry, mentions of poor emotional expression, mentions of sex / sexual innuendos, mentions of fighting / injury, strong pda, kissing, consensual groping, swearing, soft!jj

okay so this is the first time i’ve ever written dating headcanons so i’m gonna try my best

• jj and expressing emotions are a very complicated duo and almost everyone knows it, including you. he knows how he feels for you, and feels it strongly, but the way it comes out of his mouth is like gibberish and completely not understandable.

“so you know — like — i don’t know, man. i feel heavy for you, like do you feel heavy for me, too?”

“jj, i don’t even know what heavy means in this context and what you’re referring to.”

• but he comes from a good place, and you come to know, learn and love that, because well he loves you, and with jj you just have to infer by his mess of words.

• this boy tries to be as romantic as possible but he’s literally never had a s/o before. the only thing he knows are one nighters so there is a lot that pope and john b advise him on because miscommunication is quite literally the worst. (stated by john b himself)

• for this instance and the sake of the headcanons: you are a member of the pogues, through and through.

• so most of the time you’re together, the pogues are there too. even dates. they love to occupy and jj could shout at the top of his lungs how they are the biggest cock-blockers to ever exist and they would not care.

• so at that point he doesn’t even try to keep his hands to himself, he will touch you or quite literally make out with you in front of anyone and everyone he can.

• i mean he can get a little protective. (also considering he would never let you around his dad because he wants to protect you and would never let you near anyone that could hurt you)

• i mean this guy would fight for you till the very end; punches thrown countless of times and harsh words absolutely shouted more times than you could count on your fingers, but no matter how many times you chastise jj, he would never stop to defend your honour because at the end of the night you’re the one playing with his hair and kissing his cuts and bruises.

• especially after everything as well with rafe, topper and the kooks he just wants everyone (including the tourons you see once a millennium) to know that you and him are romantically involved and you are very much taken.

• he even lets the most irrelevant people know the both of you are dating because he loves you that much:

“okay, babe, here me out—”

“jj a whole group of kids just asked me about our relationship! i love you, but the whole population does not need to know that we’re together.”

“obviously we can't tell the whole population! or I would, duh.”

• even though he could blabber on about everything about you, including what shampoo you use and which perfume of yours is his favourite, affection is more his style:

• this includes walking around with his hand in your back pocket because wearing anything but jean shorts is really not an option in that heat, (and this does include ass grabbing at every opportunity he can)—

• — his hand gently placed on your thigh while driving / while he’s next to you, interlocking pinkies 98% of the time as you walk together —

• — and peppering kisses is always happening. whether they’re ticking at your checks, suffocating your neck or affectionately placed on your forehead he’s always kissing you.

• other key, and essential, things that come to mind are that his arm is always around you; after everything that’s happened to him he just needs to physically know you’re there and that’s enough to subdue him.

• it’s almost routine for him arm to go around your waist or your shoulder, whether you’re tall or short, tbh he doesn’t really care, his arms and lips are always on you.

• dating jj is dating a teenage boy with absolutely no impulse control and zero control over what he says—

“I mean, dude, if you think about it, why isn’t a banana called a yellow if an orange is called an orange? and why are phones called ‘telephones’ like who the fuck came up with that crap?”

“i mean, hey, we could bang out here and it’s not like anyone would know. like jb could be out in the living room and be like clueless.”

“jj, there’s two windows pointing directly at us. i think he would know.”

• —if you don’t understand then he definitely does not either.

• you also flip each other off a lot and people are like ??? but you both are like — fuck you —(affectionate & full of love with my middle fingers)

• one thing he does know is how to flatter you, whether he’s obnoxiously winking at you or bringing you flowers with his tips from work, or he picked them himself, it’s all in the effort.

• any effort from you is like kids getting their favourite toy they’ve been wanting on christmas, for instance: anytime you bring him food, or offer to stay with him at john b’s is like swelling up his heart to the maximum.

• so when he’s not with you, or the pogues, which is rare he is outside. and jj is like diego the explorer he always finds little places just for himself, or for this instance with you.

• so a lot of dates include going to these secluded spots: sometimes it’s a picnic, or a walk, and stargazing is his absolute favourite as he listens to you drone on about the constellations and even just watching the sky with your presence next to him is so comforting and makes him feel safe.

• of course when the pogues find out they’re brutal with their teasing.

“awww, look at the cute and happy couple!”

“my wittle babies, growing up so fast.”

“god, kie, you make it sound like we’re five?!”

• speaking of alone time, jj loves to cuddle when you guys are alone and that’s one thing he’s not fond of being teased about.

• his head is firm on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg flung over your hips. to him it’s just a perfect way to start and end the day.

• he also loves to watch movies while cuddling and he has a set of movies and their genres completely memorized for the occasion.

• he has such a good memory to the weirdest things. like he can state in the exact order your makeup routine, or talk about all the caves and sinkholes in yukatan but ask him how many states there are in america and he’s completely bummed.

• back to what i was saying, cuddling and movie times together.

• he’s the little spoon i will not argue with anyone about this, especially if something happened that day.

• like if rafe pissed him off, some kooks stepped on his toes, his dad had been particularly agitated that day or he was just frustrated. your embrace is what keeps his together. he just loves the feeling of your arms around him, essentially protecting him.

• and the pogues always get a kick out of it when they see you too snuggled in the morning. they even take pictures, a lot of pictures of everything and anything they can.

• their fav times to take pictures is when you both are off guard: like when he’s putting his hat on you, he’s sharing his juul with you, you guys are laying together on the boat or maybe your surfing together in the water.

• he’s surprisingly intimate about everything even though they’re such mundane things for him.

• he expresses his love for you by actions rather than words. for example, he has a guitar (an absolutely beat up one with missing strings and chipped wood, but he says it has more character that way as well as your signature on the back of it)—

• —and just strums it for you absolutely whenever and however your mood is because no matter what its always calming. sometimes he even hums a little tune or starts singing a bit.

• another few ways he depicts his love for you is by shoving his baseball hat on your head (the one that absolutely nobody is allowed to wear) because he doesn’t want you frying in the sun or dying of heatstroke.

• a lot of his tank tops are now yours because they’re so comfortable and you can wear them literally anywhere.

• he shares, only with you but, he shares. his rings are on your fingers, his bandana is around your neck, his boxers are your sleep shorts, and he absolutely eats that shit up.

• he also gets extremely comfortable with you, like even more than john b in a way. example: you could just be chilling, his arm wrapped around your neck and — boom — he’s shoving your face in his armpit and trying to tickle you.

• it gets to the point where the pogues are so used to it and sometimes even they join in because they even like being included in on your affections but would absolutely rather drown than admit it. they love watching their two best friends love grow for each other, and they're happy jj has found sanctuary to love and be with someone freely.

• speaking of love, jj is also like a puppy: praise, reassurance and kisses are the way to his heart and staying there.

• i’m gonna say it, jj has self confidence and love issues. they are not detectable at all but with his mother gone and the way his father treated him, there’s shit buried in his heart that it takes awhile for him to open up about.

• once he does: he cries, and he cried a lot. but after that it was like never letting go again. he trusts you with his whole heart and soul and he knows you won’t take advantage of that.

• the way you both accept each other into each others lives is so important to him no matter where you live, who you are and what your family is like everything counts for him and that just makes you the person who you are.

• dating jj can be complicated and messy and wonderful and passionate and relationships aren’t easy but he would def be worth it <3

#jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x plus size reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank hc #jj maybank headcanon #outerbanks fic #outerbanks smut #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks

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agirlwhoisaphantom · 4 years ago

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Sparks - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After being best friends with Bucky for years. Something unexpectedly happens where is finally realizes he has feelings for you.

Word Count: 4140

18+

Warnings: A hint of jealousy (if you read in between the lines), a bit of praising, oral (female receiving), cockwarming, Smut (If I'm forgetting to mention anything let me know) Aftercare, fluff(surprise)

Authors Note: This took a turn that I least expected, but hey I'm glad it did. Title inspired by my wife @saynotoshityouhate 💛

"I swear, James Bucky Barnes, if you took a bite from my ice cream. It's over for you," you yelled across your apartment.

Walking to your bedroom, Bucky had a bowl of the ice cream you were saving for later. He has a lopsided grin as he scoops a small piece of ice cream. "this is pretty good. I might go and get some more once I'm done," he winks.

You rapidly got up and ran towards Bucky, removing the bowl of ice cream he had on his hands. "Thank you very much for bringing this for me," you chuckled.

Without hesitation, Bucky's left arm wraps around your torso. With his other hand, he grabs the bowl and places it on the ground. He picks you up and starts walking towards the bed, throwing you onto it. You laughed. "Is that all you can do, big guy?" you got up, trying to catch your breath.

He stops walking towards the bowl and turns around to face you "oh," a smirk formed on his face, "you want to play" he walks towards you, he leans in towards you, "you know I'll win, doll," grabbing your hair and placing it all in one side "don't start something that you can't handle" he whispers into your ear. Feeling the breeze of his breath against your neck made you feel things.

Rising your left eyebrow and tilting your head, "try me, James. You'll be the one losing instead of me."

Bucky's hands go straight to your torso once again. Tickling you on the spots that you were the most ticklish at. You fell backward onto the bed. He stopped for a brief second making sure you were okay and you didn't hurt yourself. After he made sure you were okay, he continued to tickle you. You were laughing uncontrollably. You gently started to kick him. "Bucky, stop." You grab a piece of fabric that was on your bed and start waving it. "I surrender. You win"

"See, I told you, don't start something you can't handle," he chuckled as he was getting up from your bed.

Bucky has been your best friend for almost two years. The moment you both met, it was an instant click. You two were inseparable. You had a key to his place, so at three in the morning, you would break into his house. He also had the key to your apartment. Whenever he wanted to go on an adventure with you. He'll just go to your home.

There would be instants where you wondered if you had feelings towards him. But those feelings were buried deep down. You couldn't imagine ruining your friendship with Bucky, or worse, what if he didn't feel the same towards you. The only person that knew about these feeling was Wanda.

Each time you watch movies with Bucky, you would always wrap your arms around his bicep and place your head on his shoulder. When you went to his apartment, he had a drawer dedicated to your stuff. Such as clothes, feminine products, underwear, your painting items, anything that involved you. Since you mainly spent your time at Bucky's place if you weren't on a mission.

There would be occasions where he would flirt with you, but you didn't think much of it. You thought he was just friendly with you. Either way, he would occasionally go on dates with girls.

-----------------

For the first time in a very long time, you finally decided on a date with a guy. You were nervous about it. You had been talking to this guy for two weeks before he decided to ask you out on a date. You went to Wanda's place to get ready.

You went through her closet to see what dress you wanted to wear. You rarely owned any dresses. Your closet was mainly shirts and pants. Besides that, Wanda insisted that you borrowed one of her dresses.

"Are you excited about this date?" she looked at you with a smile on her face. She sounded excited for you. Finally, after years, you are going on a date. Wanda's face lit up as she started to walk towards you. "I have the perfect dress for you." She goes next to you and starts looking through her red dress section. She pulls out a short, small dress. It had thin straps that crossed on the back, forming a thin bow on the bottom. The front of the dress was straight. The material was silky satin. It was such a beautiful dress.

You look at Wanda with a confused look. "I don't think that is going to look good on me," you shook your head.

Placing the dress on your arms and gently pushing you to the bathroom, "you will look hot in this, now go try it on" Before shutting the door, she throws a pair of nude heels.

You take a big breath as you look at yourself in the mirror staring in the mirror. You didn't think the dress would look amazing on you, but it did. Your curves were hugged perfectly and with nude heels. You could stay home and walk around the house wearing this dress, you would.

Walking out of the bathroom, Wanda's eyes widen, and she slightly opens her mouth "wow, if I was a guy, right now, I would totally fuck you" She grabs your hand and pulls you back to the bathroom "let's finish getting you ready."

Vision appears from thin air "ladies, I just wanted to let you know that the rest of the gentlemen are here" You startled yourself when you saw a Vision. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he points to the door. "I'll leave using the door instead."

"Sorry about him. He does it all the time. I get scared as well." She chuckled.

She finished curling your hair and your makeup. "You look absolutely stunning. Whoever is having a date with you is lucky."

Turning around to face the mirror, you look at yourself. You looked beautiful, the way that Wanda did your makeup and your hair. Everything fell into perfect pieces.

Walking outside of Wanda's bedroom, you could hear Bucky's laugh 'fuck, fuck, why is he here' you thought to yourself.

Wanda takes your hand and stops halfway through. "Don't focus on him. If he liked you, he would tell you by now" she turns around and hugs you. "Now let's go, you have a date to go to" She holds your hand as you both continued to walk to the living room.

The second you entered the living room, you felt all eyes on you. But the ones that caught you the most were Buckys. His eyes were widened, and lips parted. "fuck” he whispered to himself. At this exact moment, he realized he had feelings for you. He always knew but never acknowledged them. All the memories that he had flashed over him. All the laughs you both shared, all the times you were there for him. Every little memory he shared with you.

Steve looks at Bucky and notices that he was drooling. Snapping his fingers in front of his face, "stop drooling over her. She is right there staring at you."

Bucky snapped out of the state he was in and places his hand over his mouth. Looking away from you, he tries to focus on the tv.

Wanda looks directly at Bucky with a confused look. She knew that Bucky had feelings for you deep down, but this was the first time he openly thought about you.

You held your hands together as you were slowly swaying. You were nervous, you wanted to know what Bucky was thinking, you wanted to forget about the date and go home instead.

Wanda goes to grab your purse and keys, placing both in your hands. "we have to go before you are late to your date," she starts pushing you towards the entrance of her home. Opening the door, she gently pushes you out. "Have fun. Text me if anything happens" She slams the door and leans onto it.

Bucky places both of his elbows on his thighs, placing his hands onto his face. He sighs in frustration.

"you have feelings for her, Bucky. Why haven't you told her yet" Wanda sits next to Bucky placing her hand on his back, trying to comfort him.

Sam and Steve raise their eyebrows as they look in Bucky's direction. "Hold up, Cyborg, you caught feelings for her" Sam turns to Steve. "I told you, Steve, that he did," he said in an excited voice. Steve rolled his eyes and gently pushes Sam.

Lopsided grin forms on Steve's face, "Am I really surprised, though?" he shrugs his shoulders. "Not really. Have you seen the way that Bucky looks at her and the way they act around each other?"

"can you both shut up? I'm trying to think," he mumbles as he removes his hands from his face.

"oh shit, Steve, he is short-circuiting. Someone bring the charger," Sam says in a teasing way as he gets up "never mind, Captain, let's head out before he ends up chasing the both of us."

Steve covers his mouth as he is trying to laugh. He goes up to Bucky placing his hand on his shoulder "go on and chase her." He walks away chasing after Sam.

There is quiet between him and Wanda as he continues to try to comfort him. "If I go after her and I tell her how I feel towards her." He pauses as he takes a drink of his glass of whiskey "what if she doesn't feel the same towards me" he shakes his head.

Wanda chuckles a little "oh, Buck. If you only knew," a smile forms on her face. "Why don't you go and find out for yourself" she continues rubbing his back in circular motions.

Bucky looks up at Wanda with a relief look in his eyes. She didn't need to say anything else. With only that, he knew that you had feelings for him as well.

Bucky rapidly gets up and runs towards the door. Ignoring what Wanda or anyone else was trying to tell him.

Running outside of Wanda's house. Turning his head left and right, looking for your car. The minute that he found your car, he ran towards it.

You take a deep breath. The nerves you had from earlier went away. 'just go on this date. You'll probably like him. He seems like a nice guy,' you thought to yourself. You hear the passenger's door be aggressively opened. You grab the first thing on your right. Throwing it in that direction, "ahhh," you screamed, "fuck, James!" You could feel your heartbeat a hundred beats a minute.

Bucky gets in your car and closes the door. He reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you "sorry, Doll. I didn't mean to scare you" he lets go of you and sits back onto the seat. "you look beautiful, by the way" he looks forward. He didn't want to know what reaction you had when he said that. "we need to talk." He said in a small voice as he licks his lips.

"What is it, Buck?" you knit your eyebrows together and form a frown on your face. You were concerned, especially because of how rapidly he opened the door and got inside your car.

He turns his head, facing your direction. Bucky grabs both of your hands and holds them for a couple of minutes. "This is something that I've been holding in for a while now" he knits his eyebrows together, and slight smile forms on his face. "I feel like I'm selfishly telling you this now, especially since you have a date-"

"Bucky, just get to it," you interrupted him. "he ended up canceling so, please take your time. I totally want my anxiety to be risen up to the roof," you said sarcastically.

Bucky takes a big breath and takes a big gulp. "This might sound stupid, but I don't want to see you with anyone else."

You looked at him with a confused look. "what do you mean?" you had no clue what he was saying or what he was trying to mean.

"I have feelings for you," he pauses "fuck, that felt nice to finally say it" he sighs in relief.

You froze. You were unsure if you were having a daydream or if this was real life. You stared at Bucky with widening eyes and a smile across your face.

Bucky didn't like that you were quiet. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, what was running through your mind. "In better words, I'm in love with you. I know that love is just a shout into the void, that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed. I'm tired of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I look at you, and I feel like I'm at home. You are my other half. I'm in love with you, sorry."

Looking at Bucky, that smile never turned into a frown. The instant you found out that you caught feelings for him, it was the moment that you wondered if he felt the same towards you. Late at night, when he held you in his arms, your thoughts would always go to that place. 'what if he liked me?' 'no, he couldn't.' But now that you have confirmation that he had liked you, not only like you but love you. Your heart fluttered. You loved this strange boy as well.

"I love you as well, Bucky" you placed your hand on his cheek, moving your thumb against his soft skin.

Bucky sigh in relief. He was scared from the start to tell you how he truly felt but not that he knows that you felt the same. He felt like a weight was lifted from his chest. "If you do decide to be with me. You know that there is no turning back, right?" he shrugs his shoulders. "You are kind of stuck with me now."

You snap your fingers "gosh, darn it. It looks like I am stuck with you." you had a big smile on your face. "I can't wait for what the future brings us. No matter what it is. I'm sticking with you." You wink at him. "It won't be easy getting rid of me, Bucky" you scrunched your nose.

"I don't plan on ever getting rid of you, Angel" that same smile you had was reflect on him. Reaching his phone, he checks the Time. "I'm aware that it's 7 pm. But, let's go camping" there was a bit of excitement in his voice. "first, let's get you comfortable clothes." He gets out of the car and walks around towards your side. Opening the door for you to get out since he wanted to drive. He grabs your hands and walks you to the other side, opening that door as well. You rolled your eyes as you had a small smile on your face.

------------------

"Bucky, do you need help setting up the tent?" you chuckled. Bucky was struggling and refused to let you help him.

"Stupid fucking tent," he whispers to himself. He grunts as he gets frustrated.

You go near him and start helping him build the tent. He hated that you were helping him, but it was getting dark and cold.

When the tent was ready, he places the 15 blankets he decided to buy instead of buying an inflatable bed. Bucky hands you a small bag that contained makeup wipes. You had completely forgotten that you still had makeup on your face and the dress you were wearing. Lucky enough, you had spare shoes in your car. If not, you would have been doomed walking in the forest with heels on.

You grabbed the pillows from your car and placed them at the edge of the tent. You laid down, covering yourself with one of the blankets so you can change into the clothes that Bucky got you.

He lays right next to you, removing his pants just leaving him in his boxers and his t-shirt. He lifts up his arm as he wants you to lay next to him. Without a second thought, you place your head on his chest letting him wrap his arm around you.

"Doll… "he whispered, taking your chin between his thumb, tilting your face up towards him.

You were trembling as if in frost, as if in a fever, unable to control your own racing blood. "Bucky," you said huskily.

He reached out and lifted the heavy fall of hair, letting his hand stroke your neck and round to your throat, caressing the delicate line of your jaw with his thumb, making you shudder as your legs almost curled under you.

Bucky bent his head towards you, touching your lips with his in a kiss as light as a drifting feather, and you learned that the lips you had thought sensuous were everything that you had never allowed yourself to imagine.

Bucky's hand moved again under your hair, clasping the nape of your neck, pulling you towards him as his kiss deepened, lengthened, and possessed. Letting his hands slide the length of your body, he molded you against him in a slow sweet fusion that made you thrillingly aware of his desire.

"See the effect you have on me," he whispered as he pulled apart from you, his eyes glittering with almost stunning surprise as though searching yours for an answer.

Ignoring what he just said, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him in. Pressing your lips against his once again, parting your mouth just slightly, biting his lower lip. Wrapping your arms around him, slowly moving your hands upward, running your fingers through his hair.

He slides his hands underneath the shirt material, feeling your soft skin. He shifts his body on top of yours. "Are you sure about this?" he breaks the kiss. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable before anything else was going to happen.

You nodded your head. You knew what was going to happen next, and how for the longest time, you had been craving this. Your hands slide underneath his shirt, helping him remove it. With both hands, he slides the joggers that you were wearing. Meanwhile, he was doing that. You were removing your shirt.

Bucky goes back to kissing you. Both of your tongues were dancing together. His lips kissed you from your cheek towards your neck and moved downwards until he was in between your legs. With his left arm, he pulls the material of your panties to the side, exposing you to him. A small grunt a bit, feeling the coldness of his hand against your inner thigh. Kissing your inner thigh, leaving a few marks on there and moving upwards with his tongue against your clit, moving it in circles, then pressed down, teasing you. Bucky's fingers rub against your entrance. His tongue and fingers going at the same rhythm. You moaned out loud. Even if it was the first time, he knew how to take care of you.

Without losing his rhythm, he moved his way up, kissing you from your lower stomach up to your lips. He pauses and stares at you. You were breathing heavily, and your heart was pounding. Wanting to gain dominance, you slid under him, moving on top of him. You began kissing his neck the same way that he was doing to you. You cood against his skin, rocking your hips against his friction.

As much as he wanted you to take care of him, he wanted to take care of you first and your needs. He grabbed you by your hips and turned you. Before you could move, he pins you down onto your stomach, moving behind you. He grabbed you by your waist again and pulled you up so that your ass was sticking up in the air. Removing your panties, he spat on his fingers and rubbed them against your entrance. Without warning, he thrusted inside of you.

You both froze and gasped out loud at the feeling. Bucky started to rock his hips, just wanting to feel the way you felt around him. When you moaned out, "oh my god-" he couldn't hold himself back. He gripped your waist tighter and started slamming in and out of you.

Your hands clutched on the sheets underneath you while one of Bucky wrapped your hair around his hand. Grabbing your hair and his other hand stayed on your hips, holding you steady. "You feel so good, Bunny." He was staring down at you. The image of your bent over on your knees, your ass up in the air, and his hand tangled into your hair made him groan. He watched the way that his cock looked moving in and out of you.

"Come here," he mumbled as he pulls on your hair. He assisted you in positioning your back and shoulders against his chest, with the both of you on your knees. He had kept thrusting the entire while you were moving. He surrounded you with his arms, not wanting you to fall due to the lack of barriers.

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, kissing his neck while he pounded you from behind. One of his hands reached up to your breast, running his fingers along with your nipple. And the other stayed around your torso. You tilted your head back enough for him to attach his lips to yours.

The two of you moved in perfect harmony. You'd never done this before, never had sex with someone so passionately. Neither had Bucky. It felt like you both were made for each other.

"Are you ready?" He referred to you by your name. "I'm gonna cum. Can you cum with me?" He asked you, pleading.

Then, as if you'd planned it exactly, you both hit your stride at the same Time—shockwaves coursing through both of your bodies as you moaned each other's names again and over.

It took you two a minute to regain your composure. He hadn't yet pulled away from you; instead, he remained inside of you as you collected your breath and regained your balance.

Placing your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat miles a minute. You finally felt like you were at home. Bucky gets up and grabs the bag that he had prepared for you. Looking into the bag, he grabs a lotion bottle. He grabs your hand and pulls you forward, making sure that you were sitting on the edge of the duvet.

Not a word was spoken. It was peaceful and quiet hearing the sounds of the waterfall in the background. Bucky opened the bottle and squirted some into his palm before kneeling down. You flinched a little when the cold lotion hit your skin. But the moment that Bucky started to rub against your back, you softly moaned.

Bucky worked his way down your back, pressing and rubbing his fingertips against your skin. When he reached your lower back, he leaned on your shoulder and smiled when he noticed that you had a smile on your face and your eyes were closed.

'Is this what cloud nine feels like?' you thought to yourself. You were unsure if Bucky had said anything, but you just nodded in agreement. He was nothing but gentle to you, making sure that you felt pleasure and not pain. He got up and faced you now. He squirted more lotion on his hands and gently massage your feet. He knew you were ticklish there, so he tried his best not to make any sudden moves that might trigger you.

By the time he was finished, you felt so relaxed. He grabbed your panties and his shirt. You sat up, raising your arms up with your eyes partly opened as he pulled his shirt over you.

"you do realize that I'm never giving you back this shirt, right?" you chuckled as you laid down, placing your head onto the pillow.

Bucky nodded his head. "I know, Doll. That's why I'm giving it to you."

You fully opened your eyes and smiled at him. He leans in forward and kisses you. He lays down on the other side. Slipping under the covers and pulling them up over your bodies. You turned on your side and wiggled back, so you were pressed against his chest. If you could turn yourself into a puddle, this would be the exact moment you would. You melted into his embrace and smiled when you felt his face rub against your shoulder right before he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you," he murmured softly against your skin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws #the winter soldier x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #marvel x reader #avengers #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #fluff

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irresistiibles · 2 years ago

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the wardrobe / toph beifong

“it's okay. one of the good things about being blind, is i don't have to waste my time worrying about appearance. i don't care what i look like. i'm not looking for anyone's approval. i know who i am.”

describe your muse’s aesthetic in five words or less.

lazy comfortable earth tones

does your muse spend a lot of time on their outfit and appearance? how long do they spend getting ready in the morning?

absolutely not. toph has never cared much about her appearance for obvious reasons. there are times where she feels more self conscious than usual, but at the end of the day she’s never known what she looks like and that’s just something they live and deal with.

does your muse consider the way they dress to be trendy? would other people agree?

literally no clue. toph would say it’s trendy just because they assume they’re always going to be cool, but realistic she just doesn’t know. i would say for the vibe toph goes for it could definitely be seen as trendy/

how often do they buy new clothes? are they the type to keep a outfit for years or replace it after one wear?

rarely. toph will absolutely wear clothes until they’re falling apart and then finally admit she needs new ones.

is your muse the type to accessorize? how much?

not much. their hair is often up because vision or not the feeling of it on her neck is terrible and inconvenient, so sometimes there’s a headband or scrunchie, and toph will appreciate a hat here and there, but that’s usually it. there’s also the bracelet she made herself with meteor rock that toph wears all the time.

how much time do they spend on skin care/makeup/grooming?

zero to none. toph washes their face before going to sleep, but sometimes that does just mean splashing some water on themselves and calling it a day.

if money and societal expectations were not a concern would your muse dress differently than they currently do? if so, how?

maybe just a bit more similar to how they dressed back home. it’s hard for toph to find similar clothes here, which s the real problem though. money and confidence are certainly not stopping her.

would your muse wear the same outfit two days in a row if they knew they wouldn’t run into any of the same people?

toph would wear the same outfit for a week in a row well knowing they’re going to see people the fuck?

have they started dressing differently since arriving in washington? was the transition difficult? do they prefer the clothes here or back home? if your character is unaware feel free to answer as if they are aware.

toph wears stuff that’s more typical for washington rather than what she was wearing back home. it’s just easier to find, and honestly toph doesn’t mind the transition. there are a lot of comfortable clothes here, and since she isn’t fighting every day she doesn’t need to worry as much about wrapping herself

my added general description.

i made this edit pretty easily, and then got to these questions and lost my mind a little bit because, toph is obviously blind, and looks rarely concern her. toph knows how to make themselves look good, or at least societally acceptable, as a result of how she was born, but it’s not something toph cares about doing unless absolutely required. toph prioritizes comfort above all else, and being able to move easily in whatever she’s wearing. toph still does a decent amount of fighting and bending in the city, so full mobility is absolutely key. it’s mostly going to be a lazy girl vibe or workout clothes. toph is also particular to being bare footed so that she can use her earthbending on the ground, but since that’s not super acceptance she has shoes with the bottoms taken out, so it appears like they’re wearing shoes but the soles of their feet are still on the ground. toph tends to stick to greens and browns, not that she knows what they look like, but toph knows those are earth tones, and needs to represent her likes. she’s definitely sensitive to textures and sticks to simple cotton as much as possible. there is definitely some amount of tearing or dirt on just about all their clothes because of just how rough and tumblr they tend to be. it’s inevitable no matter how often things are washed.

#( musings && toph )#hwtask10

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Text

Gilded Cage - Choose Your Own Whump

Here it is! My first attempt at a choose your own adventure type of whump story. In this story, Villain is kept by the Heroes as a prop for the media-- but what will they do when a rare chance at contacting the outside world presents itself?

CW//Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, implied torture, panic attacks

There was something about a gilded cage that made it worse than any other type of imprisonment.

Sure, it was comfortable. You were well provided for, fed and watered incredibly generously. But that, in and of itself, was one of the worst parts.

Being imprisoned, locked away in a cell somewhere with a big heavy padlock over the door, it meant that someone thought you were dangerous enough to require that kind of security. In the most minuscule way, it was a display of respect.

But a gilded cage of comfort and warmth? It meant that your captor believed you to be domesticated. Docile. Too soft and serenely mannered to even bother chaining up.

Of course, that didn’t make the lock on the door any less real. It just made it that much more humiliating.

Villain groaned as the sound of knocking echoed through the room. They pulled their plush duvet closer to themself, sinking deeper into their unbelievably soft mattress.

“Lunch is ready. Get up. And make yourself look presentable, we have visitors.”

They were too tired to tell which of the Heroes was speaking, but it didn’t matter all too much. Their voices all blended together, after a time. All characterized by overwhelming politeness and platitudes, with a subtle undertone of annoyance.

If anything, the way they spoke was worse than if they had just yelled. They hated Villain, that was clear and that was expected. If only they would just say it out loud, instead of letting their tone speak for them.

Again, Villain grumbled, sitting up in bed and blinking blearily a moment. The bright red digital clock on the wall mechanically informed them that it was almost noon.

They just wanted to go back to sleep.

Of course, that wasn’t an option. They’d tried that. Tried hiding under the blankets and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. But it did, even as they hated it.

They pushed the blankets aside and got up, knowing full well that they would return to a bed made with military precision. Wandering over to their wardrobe, they couldn’t help but wish that they’d been informed earlier that they were expecting visitors. But, of course, when did anyone ever tell them anything.

Eventually, they selected a nice suit top in a dark maroon hue, along with matching pants. A presentable outfit, and hopefully fancy enough for whatever guests were being expected. It was almost certainly a news crew, or a government agent-- they came at least three times a week.

Clothes folded over their arm, they shook their head to clear their vision of sleep and made their way to the bathroom.

As always, the mirror was immaculate, stretching the whole length of one wall and going all the way up to the ceiling. Looking at it made them want to smash it to pieces, but they quelled their own anger quickly. It served no purpose.

They didn’t have to look at it. They could have just as easily closed their eyes, changed their clothes and ran out of the room. But they couldn’t. Though they had no clue as to why, some horrible force compelled them to raise their head, and stare directly into the eyes of their reflection.

Villain wanted to cry. Had this been a few months ago, they would have. But they’d long since mastered the art of choking back tears.

The person in the mirror-- they didn’t recognize them.

Sure, they had the same facial structure as Villain, the same eyes, and the same, well, everything. That was except for the layers of makeup covering them, clearing any imperfection and turning it into a glowing highlight. Not to mention their hair-- every two weeks or so, they’d have it professionally styled. What had once been a head of long, curled locks had been cut short and ironed straight. Apparently, that was the style that was currently “in.” Not that they’d had any choice in the matter.

To look presentable.

They washed the makeup from their face as best they could, knowing that whatever artist the visitors had brought with would do it again, in whatever way they liked it. Putting down the washcloth, they moved to unbutton the front of their nightgown...

But their hand drifted instead to their neck.

It was an instinctive motion, almost. A ritual. They unfolded the collar of their nightgown, pulling down the neckline, until the device was fully visible.

That was what the Heroes always called it. A “control device.” As if it was some kind of scientific advancement, some amazing invention.

It was nothing like that.

The device was a simple loop of metal, going around their neck, tight enough nearly to choke them. To remind them that it was always there. On the outside, the metal was smooth, marred not even by any kind of mechanism that would allow it to be removed. On the inside, however, they could feel the tiny studs, pressing against their flesh.

They didn’t think of it as their collar. They tried not to think of it as their collar. They tried not to think about it at all, in fact. But, every second, every breath they took, they could feel it. Even if it weighed less than a pound in actuality, to them, it felt to be made of the heaviest lead.

Weighing them down, ready to strike at any moment. Each and every one of the Heroes had one of the collar’s remotes. A simple press of a button, a simple click, and Villain would be writhing on the floor in agony. Every time one of the Heroes gave them a side-eyed look, they felt their stomach flip, waiting for the shock. For the horrible, horrible pain.

They tried to fit their finger between the device and their neck, though there was little avail. Still, even if it was only slight, they could feel on the tip of their finger their own charred skin.

Anxiety rose in their throat, twisting their stomach in knots. They shook their head. No. They had to get ready, and they were running out of time. The visitors were probably already waiting. In a practiced motion, they undid their nightgown and dressed in their far fancier outfit.

Even as they reached for the door handle, though, they could see their hand shaking.

It was just lunch. They’d been doing it every day for months. They could do it. They could do lunch.

It was just lunch.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The dining table was a beast of wood and metal accents, stretching for the whole room, leaving only room for the dozen and a half chairs surrounding it.

Generally, the majority of these chairs would be empty. There were only so many Heroes, and generally their various sidekicks and assistants did not eat with them. Today, however, every last seat was filled.

They wore no identification, but Villain already knew who they were. A news crew. Journalists and cameramen and reporters. They hadn’t seen this particular crew before, but that didn’t mean much of anything. So many came through Headquarters that they all seemed to blend together.

As Villain emerged through the large, mahogany doors, every last one of the newspeople turned their heads. A few even appeared frightened. One among them gasped.

It was how they always reacted, the first time. They opened their mouth without speaking-- they had practiced their script so many times that it came to them as easily as breathing.

“Good afternoon, everyone. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the head of the table, Hero nodded in approval. Villain lowered their gaze and retreated to their seat, among the Heroes.

Even after so much time, it was hard to think of them as anything but hands, ready at any moment to press down on their remotes without so much as thinking.

That was the only good thing about having visitors. None of the Heroes would dare to use the collar when company was around. Each and every shirt that Villain owned was specifically chosen to hide the device-- no one else knew. A shared secret of dominance.

“Well, we’re so glad to have you here.” Hero smiled, looking out over the table. “Our food should be out in a moment. What all are you looking to be filming, today? Or photographing? I’m no expert on this type of thing, I must admit.”

It was a blatant lie. Hero knew everything there was to know about PR. They could wield the media better than they could wield their own powers.

“Well.” The person who seemed to be in charge of the news crew spoke up. “Did you receive the clothing shipment a few days ago?”

“We did, yes. I almost forgot, silly old Hero. Forgetful as ever.”

“No worries. We wanted to get some photos of you wearing them-- they were custom made, by an Italian designer. Supposedly the start of some kind of new line. They call it “Be Your Own Hero.” It’s a little cheesy, but that’s fashion for you.”

“I’m sure it is. Is that all, then?”

“Mostly, yes. Though...” They bit their lip. “In light of recent events, we were wondering if, perhaps to supplement another story, we would be able to interview Villain? If you’re okay with it, of course, Villain.”

“Of course.” Villain smiled. “That would be wonderful.”

Hero nodded their agreement, though their eyes betrayed their tentativeness.

“Just Villain? I don’t believe the rest of us are too busy today, we would have plenty of time to speak to you, as well.”

“I don’t want to be impolite, but I’m sure you understand that this matter concerns them specifically. Maybe we could incorporate some quotes from you?”

“Don’t worry, I understand completely. That should work out just fine.”

Villain couldn’t stop themself from nervously twirling the cuff of their shirt. Whatever this ‘event’ was, they had no clue, and they most certainly didn’t want to give an interview about it. They’d been trained to do interviews, but never alone, and most of the time they just gave a few cursory answers while the Heroes took the spotlight.

Still, they couldn’t refuse. If Hero said they were doing the interview, then they were doing it.

They were a prop. They knew that. At the very least, they could be a good one.

A tinny bell chimed as the door to the kitchen opened, and an array of staff brought out a series of plates. Villain feared that they wouldn’t have much of an appetite.

Their collar was choking them. They could hardly breathe.

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It was amazing just how quickly the news crew had turned the front hall into a full-blown studio. Lights and backdrops and all kinds of equipment that Villain didn’t recognize were set up in dazzlingly bright arrays, making any movement a tripping hazard on account of just how many cables snaked about the wood floor.

The makeup station had been set up against one wall, with five chairs and countless boxes of powders and creams. Villain gripped the arms of their chair, doing their very best not to flinch or sneeze as a stranger dabbed blush onto their cheeks. Even after so much time, it was one thing they could never quite get used to. A stranger touching their face, moving their head about. They hated it.

But they did not protest. They sat as best as they could, muttering desperate apologies any time they lost control and jerked their head away from the invading touch.

Next to them, they could hear as the Heroes, one by one, were finished as got up from their seats. Chatting with different news people, laughing at their stupid jokes. Metal wheels whirred as clothes racks were pushed about.

“There you go.” The makeup artist smiled, speaking in a disgustingly chipper tone. Villain fluttered their eyelids open, at least glad that it was over.

Still talking with the different photographers and the like, the Heroes began drifting away, towards where all the lights and cameras were set up. Villain could already feel themself growing anxious. Sure, they hated the Heroes as much as anything, but at least when they were nearby, they could ensure that Villain was acting right. Feed them their lines. Keep up the facade.

Unsure of just where to go, they waited in the makeup chair. They fought to keep their gaze away from the door, the massive swinging wooden panels that led right out onto the street. To freedom.

Their kept their eyes fixed firmly on their shoes.

They weren’t sure exactly how long they stayed like that. Staring. Listening. The cameras on the other side of the room had already begun to flash.

At some point, after at least 15 minutes of sitting and waiting, obedient and docile, someone came up to them. A simply-dressed reporter, sweater vest and all.

At the very least, they didn’t have that stupid smile on their face. The media smile. The smile of glowing PR.

“Hello.” They were nervous, it was clear. More than just a little nervous, for that matter. “Um- You’re Villain, right?”

They looked up.

“Yep, that’s me!”

It made them feel sick.

“O-Oh. Okay. Um, my name is Journalist. It’s nice to meet you...?”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Journalist!”

“Are you ready for the interview?”

“Sure am.”

“Okay. Uh- Oh, wait.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Your shirt is inside out, I think.”

Villain felt their heart jump to their throat. It was an honest, simple mistake. They hadn’t even noticed. Yet, if the Heroes were here, it was certain that there would be retribution. Would they find out? Were they listening, right now? Ready to shove Villain into some back room to push their stupid buttons? Footsteps- oh god, was that them? Oh god oh god oh god-

“Hey, uh, can you hear me?”

“Sorry. I think I spaced out a little, there.”

“It’s fine. It’s no big deal. There’s a bathroom over there, so we can just fix your shirt quick and get onto the interview.”

“Sounds good.” They shook their head, shaking themself back to wakefulness. Once they were sure that they could, they stood to their feet. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“Um... They told us not to leave you alone.”

“What?” It came out more like a whisper.

“Yeah. It’s okay, um, I won’t look or anything. It’s just a security thing, I think.”

“Oh. Okay.” Villain swallowed.

Their heartbeat firmly moved to their throat, now. They hoped the shaking in their legs could not be seen as they and Journalist moved to the small bathroom, right off the side of the hall.

Villain stood in the corner, with Journalist sitting on a chair that was sitting in the corner opposite.

It was just a simple fix. It was fine. Everything was fine, it was okay.

Hands trembling as though an earthquake raged below their feet, they reached for the hem of their shirt, pulling it up and the sleeves off their arms, slipping it off over their head and working to flip it.

It was only the feeling of being watched that led them to look up at the young journalist, sitting in the corner. Eyes fixed on them.

More specifically, on their neck.

“Um... What is that? Villain, are you okay?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!

There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.

To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!

I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon.

The choices and questions for this part are as follows:

A) Tell the truth - How much should Villain tell Journalist?

B) Lie - How should Villain explain away the collar?

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #choose your own adventure #gilded cage #imprisoned whumpee #villain whumpee #captivity whump

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years ago

Note

hi hi Rhododendron Hawks PLEASE BBY CONGRATS ON 100 YOU ARE AMAZING your writing is beautiful and im lucky to call you a friend

Emme my love!! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this Rhododendron with Hawks!

Hawks x Fem!Reader

The knock at your door had your nerves working in overdrive. The sharp “Just a minute!” shooting out of your mouth before you can calm yourself. As you walk to the door you take deep breaths, straightening out any nonexistent wrinkles from your dress and taking a quick look in the hallway mirror before looking through the peep hole.

At first you don’t see anything but a deep crimson, when your eyes finally focus you can see that the crimson is a set of exceptionally large wings attached to an incredibly attractive hero. You pull back from the door and take one more calming breath before opening it with a smile on your face.

“Hey chickadee! Ready for our- “Hawks stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you, his brain and heart both stopping momentarily. He stands there stunned, taking it all in. Your makeup enhancing your already amazing features from your enchanting eyes to your sultry mouth. The dress your wearing showing off your jaw dropping figure and your soft skin. “Wow- “He clears his throat, a blush on his cheeks. “-you look amazing Y/N.”

Your still standing in the door way, relived that he finally said something. The look in his eyes when he saw you was so intense it was almost frightening. His pupils shrinking, the gold in his eyes going molten.

“Oh! Um, thank you Hawks.” You play with the hem of your dress and drop your eyes to the floor.

I hope I look amazing, my first date in years and it’s with the number 2 hero?! I’ve been getting ready for hours!

You stand there for a moment in silence until he puts a hand under your chin and tilts your face up. “Come on dove, no need to be nervous! Here, I brought you a gift.” He pulls a hand out from behind his back, holding a white box you didn’t even notice he was carrying.

“Th-thank you! These are from my favorite chocolate shop.” You take the box from his hand holding it close, a smile on your face that takes his breath away.

“Well, I know you don’t like getting flowers so I figured chocolates would be the next best thing!”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, thankful that he is trying his best to make you feel comfortable. “How did you know I don’t like getting flowers?”

“You just struck me as a person that doesn’t like them, being a hero helps me read people so… oh wow I sounded real douche.” He looks down then notices the time on his watch. “We better get going if we’re gonna make our reservations!”

Hawks waits for you to grab your stuff, put the box in your apartment and lock your door before heading out.

Thankfully, the hero was not expecting to fly you to your destination. He opens the passenger side door to his sleek sports car, waiting for you to get situated before shutting it. As you drive to your, still unknown to you, destination you can’t help but admire him from the side. It is rare that you got to see Hawks outside of his hero uniform except when he modeled for magazine covers. However, all of those magazines could not compare to real life.

The hand resting on the shifter is big, tanned from hours in the sun with long fingers and perfectly manicured nails. His has rings on both his middle and ring finger one black with gold veins like marble, the other crimson. The long black sleeve button up is rolled to his forearms, showing off lean muscle, veins running down to his hands. The black slacks tight enough to show off two toned legs, and a third leg?!

You hear him chuckle and he puts a hand on your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before putting it back on the shifter. You can feel your cheeks glowing red from embarrassment.

How long was I staring at him?!

Hawks doesn’t say anything, saving you from embarrassing yourself any further.

You finally pull into a driveway, stopping at the curb. You look out the window and see a bar and lounge that you have passed by multiple times, knowing from just the outside that you would not be able to afford anything. Hawks gets out of the car and opens your door before the valet can, holding out a hand to help you out.

You step out of the car, your dress tight around your thighs and ass. Hawks can’t help but take in the sight, the crotch of his pants tightening unperceptively.

“Have you ever been here before Y/N?” You both walk up to the doors of the lounge, Hawks slightly behind you with his hand on the small of your back.

“N-no I haven’t, it always looked a little too pricey for me.” You try to distract yourself from his warm touch by examining the ornate double doors. Both sport blacked out glass and a large silver “5” topped with an image of a flower you can’t quite remember the name of.

“It’s a rhododendron.”

A shiver runs down your spine as Hawks leans over to whisper in your ear before moving in front of you to open one of the doors and usher you inside.

The date was amazing, conversation flowed smoothly, no fans or paparazzi interrupting, Hawks was even able to guess not only your favorite drink but your favorite food as well.

At one point he decided to fold one of the cloth napkins into a very poorly constructed plane, four embroidered rhododendrons resting two to each wing. You can’t help but laugh when he tosses it up, sending a couple of his feathers to keep it in the air. You both watch it soar around the room before, a stern-faced waiter walks up and clears his throat. You both turn, matching guilty looks on your faces while the napkin is swiftly returned to the table.

The hero makes sure to keep the bill out of your line of vision, immediately handing the waiter a black credit card and continuing the conversation.

“I had an amazing time dove.” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, caressing your knuckles with his thumb. “I would hate to end this date so soon… how about we go grab some dessert? I know a cute little ice cream shop downtown that has nondairy flavors!”

You can’t help but melt into a puddle when he smiles at you, his gold eyes shining.

“I would love to! It’s good they have nondairy; I get a little sad walking into an ice cream shop when I’m lactose intolerant.”

He shoots you a wink. “Well, isn’t that lucky then? Come on, let’s get there before they close.” He takes you by the hand and holds it while you wait for the valet to bring his car around.

When you are both back in the car Hawks turns on some music, one of your favorite songs softly playing through the speakers. “I hope you don’t mind, just felt like we could use some tunes.”

“Oh, not at all!” You wave him off with a smile on your face. “I actually really like this song this artist is one of my favorites!” You start tapping your leg to the beat, watching the street lights pass by and missing the gleam in your dates eyes as he glances at you.

“Hello! Welcome to the Frozen Marble Creamery, what can we get ya?” The employee behind the waist high freezer greets you while you clasp your hands in front of you with glee.

“Oh wow, you have so many choices!” You browse the dairy free flavors, looking up at Hawks when he places his hand on your shoulder. “What are you gonna get Hawks?”

“I’m not picky so i'll just get what you get.” He pats your shoulder, moving his hand down to the small of your back. A small shiver goes down your spine when you feel the tips of his fingers graze your ass.

The employee stands there with a stunned look on their face for a moment “Oh, wow ummm Hawks! You’re like my favorite hero! I can’t believe you are here! Could I please have your autograph?” You didn’t even see them come around the corner but suddenly they are right next to you, almost pushing against you in their enthusiasm.

“Of course! I can always sign something for a fan!” Hawks strategically moves so that he is between you and the person while still keeping a hand on you. He signs the piece of paper and smiles at the employee before putting a finger in front of his mouth. “Now don’t tell anyone but I’m on a date and I really wanna impress her.”

The employees mouth drops open and their eyes go wide turning to look at you. “Oh of course!” They excitedly whisper. “Let me know what you want, and it will be on the house.”

Hawks gives them a quick wink. “The little lady and I will both have a small mango sorbet in a cup please.”

You had been watching the exchange with a small smile on your face, impressed at the way Hawks flawlessly managed to calm his fan down. When he orders for you, you shift and bump your hip against his.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say your quirk is mind reading.” You giggle.

He bumps your hip right back. “I guess I’m just that lucky!”

After you get your ice cream you walk out to the small seating area in the front, surrounded by three rhododendron plants giving the space a pleasant sweet and spicy scent.

Conversation continues in between bites of the sweet sorbet. He regales you with tales of villain take downs and working with the number one hero while also asking about your job and tales of your childhood. You can’t believe your luck, being with the hero feels so comfortable especially since he knows you so well.

It must help with his hero work being able to read people so well.

After finishing your dessert, you linger in the sitting area, enjoying each other’s company and the mix of cool night air and scent of flowers. You are relaxing with your head in your hand, watching the cars drive by in comfortable silence when your date chuckles. You turn to him with a questioning look when he reaches over and plucks something out of your hair.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who enjoys your company, you had a couple of tagalongs.” He opens his hand, and you see two small flowers sitting in his palm.

You huff out a laugh and grab one of the flowers, twirling it in between your fingers. “You know it’s weird, I’ve been seeing these flowers a lot lately.” You watch the way the petals of the rhododendron flutter in the wind and place it on the table.

“Maybe it’s fate?” Hawks places the other one on the table, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t most flowers have meanings? Maybe these ones mean your beautiful.”

You giggle at his joke, your cheeks tinted pink at the flattery.

“I hate to end the night Dove but it’s getting late and I wanna make sure you get home at a decent time.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right but being sad about it all the same.

When you get back to your place Hawks walks you to the door, holding your hand and swinging it back and forth. You both stand there for a moment, you not wanting to end the night and him patiently waiting.

“I, uh, I had a really nice time today Hawks.” You fidget with the hem of your dress for a moment before looking up at him.

“I had a nice time too Dove. I’m excited to see you again.” He grabs your other hand and faces you towards him.

“Oh? Well, yeah! I would love to do this again.” Smiling bashfully, you stare into his captivating eyes, your breath hitching when he leans in close.

“I really wanna kiss you right now, is that okay?” You can feel his breath against your lips, closing the distance and kissing him instead of answering.

You share a sweet kiss before he pulls away, leaving you breathless. “I’ll talk to you again ya?”

You nod your head, and he bends down to kiss your cheek before walking back to his car. You stand in front of your door, still not believing how amazing your day was before walking into your apartment to settle down.

You crack the sliding glass door to your bedroom, pulling the curtains open to let the moonlight in. The view from your balcony is worth the rent you pay. The lights from the city glowing like festival lanterns, a soothing breeze like ice cream on a hot day.

Dimming the lights you walk to your bathroom for a quick shower, sleepy from the days excitement but still needing to rinse off. After showering you dry off and wrap a towel around your body, tucking a corner into the top to hold it in place. Drying your hair with another towel you look towards your closed door and admire the moon glowing in the sky. Walking towards your bed to grab your sleep shirt, sitting there on top of it was one lone rhododendron flower. Placed next to it, vibrant in the moonlight, shining like a blade, was a crimson feather.

“Oh, come on little bird.” The sultry voice startles you, turning around with a scream before a gloved hand shoots out covering your mouth.

“All the signs were there Dove!” Hawks clenches his hand, squeezing your face until tears well up in your eyes.

“But I guess you were too stupid to heed the warnings.”

You whimper, the sound barely audible past the glove, body shaking, hands clasping your towel that was loosening up.

“Beware! Beware! Hahaha. You should have remembered Dove.” Pulling your face closer, he whispers in your ear.

“I’m a bird of prey.”

#lilliths follower event #lillith writes #lilliths writing #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader

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writer-ish · 4 years ago

Text

hopeful hearts, part two

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Brooke Spiers)

Word Count: 3,750

Rating: E (NSFW 18+)

Summary: During the Gala, Ethan and Brooke sneak off for a more private encounter.

This is a more detailed version of the office scene in Chapter 17, from Ethan’s POV.

PART ONE HERE.

once again, special thanks to: @openheartthot for providing the script that started this all ♥️

Dr. Ethan Ramsey doesn’t care.

It’s a point of pride for him. He does his job - and he does it damn well - but that chip that most people have, the one that makes them ache and burn and torment themselves over the thoughts and feelings of others—no.

That he does not have.

Which is why he finds himself unable to explain—unable to reconcile with his own perceptions of himself, why the woman beside him in this moment makes him ache and burn and torment himself, day in and day out. Why the only thing he finds himself caring about is her thoughts. Her feelings.

Why the feel of her hand in his, gripping him tightly, the trust that’s imbued in that simple gesture as they walk recklessly through the corridors of the quiet hospital, is enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.

Ethan Ramsey finds himself realizing that, for someone who had never cared, this seems to matter a whole lot.

His heart pounds a steady rhythm as they swiftly and silently approach the doors of his office. He lets them both in and then closes the door resoundly behind him.

“Here we are,” he says, hearing the gruffness in his tone and unable to utter the words any differently. “Alone at last.”

She looks up at him and, once again, breathing seems out of reach. It’s a feeling in his chest—one that he can’t explain away with logic or reason, the two tenets with which he’s structured his life.

“Any idea what we could get up to with such a rare moment of privacy?” She’s disarmingly contradictory—provocative and bashful, sincere and flirtatious. Every contradiction stirs his blood in unprecedented ways. He wants her, needs her—not just now, but always.

“I have a few,” he murmurs in response to her question, stepping forward and linking his fingers with hers, drawing her hands around his torso before leaning forward and touching her lips with his.

The kiss is softer, less performative than the one he’d given her downstairs. This one doesn’t need to prove a point to anyone other than himself. And the point he’s trying to prove is how necessary it is for him to be kissing her at this moment.

Pulling away, he takes in the sight of her. The gleaming auburn curls tumbling over her shoulders, the red dress that seized him by the chest the moment he saw her in it—she incapacitated him with her beauty.

He’d seen her at six in the morning and eleven at night (oftentimes in the same day). He’d seen her rested and exhausted. With makeup and without. He’d seen her—

He wills away the image that appears in his mind’s eye. The one of her that’s always a little blurred around the edges — as though he’s looking at her through a transparent barrier; since, of course, that’s exactly what he’d had to do. It’s the image of her unwell. Scared.

His heart thumps painfully as the fear returns again, an old, familiar feeling now, like a cloak that shadows his mind. The moments that he thought were numbered. Panic, the likes of which he’d never before experienced—

No. He won’t think of that now.

He forces his tone to be casual, but the depths of his emotion still seem to break through.

“I looked around and it's definitive. You were the most stunning woman in that room tonight.” The statement pales in comparison to the way he truly feels.

She dimples, pleased by his compliment even as she tries not to show it, and his heart soars.

“Are you trying to flatter me, Dr. Ramsey?” she teases.

All pretence of casualness is gone as he responds, his voice husky and low: “Is it still flattery if it's an understatement?”

Her cheeks redden and suddenly she’s even more of a vision, the rosiness of her face contrasting the colour of her hair and the hue of her dress in the most incredibly charming way.

She reaches up to caress his cheek softly and he feels himself lean slightly into her touch, unable to resist the allure of her body making contact with his.

“I’m glad you did that just now. Kissed me.” He sees her vulnerability and knows that he’s at the root of it—his damned fears and pride and sense of propriety and justice all being part of what almost ruined this for him. For them.

His public declaration - that she was his and, even more importantly, he was hers - was something they’d both needed more than either of them had realized.

“Trust me, Brooke.” He leans forward, whispering the next words. “I’m just getting started.”

Their lips meet and Ethan feels a hunger in his very soul; like he could devour her whole. A frenzied heat runs through him, his entire body thrumming with the anticipation of what’s to come. Now, now, now, are the only words his pounding heart speaks as he guides her to the first available surface: his desk.

Ethan is not a man prone to fantasy.

Even in previous relationships - more like arrangements - he’d always maintained a level-headed foundation to every encounter. The exchanges were simple at their core: the satisfaction of a mutual need. An itch to be scratched. And, once they were over, he barely gave them further consideration.

But Ethan Ramsey would be a stone-cold liar if he’d ever said that he hadn’t had a recurring, relentless daydream - and occasional night dream - of taking Dr. Brooke Spiers on top of this very desk in a multitude of imaginative, creative, and depraved ways.

And now, now at the cusp of this almost two-year fantasy coming to life, it feels as though something inside of him has truly, finally been unleashed.

Keeping his lips crushed to hers, Ethan cups Brooke’s round bottom, squeezing appreciatively before dragging his hands down the sequined fabric of her thighs until he can gain enough purchase to do what he really wants: lifting her effortlessly, he defers all her weight to one arm while using the other sweep every goddamn thing off his usually-meticulous desk. Pens and paper trays clatter to the floor as Ethan lays Brook gently across the desk, with a precise calmness he doesn’t truly feel.

She lets out a disbelieving laugh as she pulls away slightly, hands carding through his hair. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” she breathes against his lips, joy and unrestrained pleasure in her tone.

“Whatever it is,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers briefly before continuing, “I think it’s long overdue.”

“True.” She shimmies her way further up the desk, before reaching for him. “Which is why you shouldn’t keep me waiting.” Grabbing his collar, she drags him on top of her, lips colliding once more in a frenzy of taste and touch. He feels her lithe fingers give his hair a sharp tug and he groans against her mouth.

“Brooke.” He’s panting now, unable to get his heart rate under control. “I need you.”

Leaning in once more to take her again, he’s surprised when she leans away, pressing a finger to his lips. The expression on her face stops him and he finds himself stumbling back a step as she pushes him gently and climbs off the desk.

She moves a few feet away and looks at him coyly, one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth hitched slightly upwards.

“Brooke…” She’s killing him. Does she know she’s killing him?

Probably.

“Shh…” she admonishes, lightly. “Just watch.”

Slowly she turns and Ethan drinks in every curve - from the dip in her waist to her well-rounded bottom. Reaching up, her slender fingers snag the gold zipper resting at her nape and she slowly tugs it down.

Ethan swears he can hear every excruciating millisecond of that zipper’s descent, even over the thundering pulse in his ears, as he watches it go down… down… exposing the creamy white skin of her perfect back, inch by inch.

It stops just below the small of her back, right above the cleft of her bottom, two familiar dimples taunting him. The opening of her dress has gaped over her shoulders and she looks at him one last time over her shoulder, her smile luminescent, before letting the garment fall to the floor in its entirety. Turning back around, she strikes a coy pose, one hand flipped up and the other on her cocked hip, as if to say “Well?”

He takes in her pink-tipped breasts, the perfect size for the palm of his hand. The indented waist that he can span if he so chooses. The swell of her hips, hugged in black lace. Her shapely legs, long for her height.

And the heels. That she’s still wearing.

He almost swallows his tongue.

Well, indeed.

Ethan reaches her in a single stride and pulls her towards him, cupping the nape of her neck as his lips reach hers with a soft reverence. He can feel the heat of her naked body against his, warm and electric, and he steps back only for a second to tear his own clothes off, barely considering the buttons that will need to be re-buttoned, or the obscenely expensive suit jacket that probably shouldn’t be left in a heap on the floor.

All that matters, all he can consider, is his all-consuming need to feel her body against his, unimpeded by clothing.

He tilts her jaw so that she’s looking up at him. He can’t help but be pleased to see that her breathing is irregular, too, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her nipples poking sharply into his chest. When she’s this close, he can see the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. The light smattering of freckles not entirely hidden behind her concealer.

God, he loves her.

The words come to him, unbidden yet familiar. A truth he has known for much longer than he cares to admit. He hasn’t told her yet, not really. But he hopes he’s shown her in all the ways that he’s let her in - into places no one has ever reached - and in all the ways he’s tried to care for her, to protect her, to nurture her and to guide her. And soon—

Soon, the words will come, as well.

For now, he settles for speaking another truth: “You’re so beautiful, it sometimes takes my breath away.”

It’s how he’s always felt around her; like the air has gotten a little lighter. His lungs a little shallower. He sees her and the visceral response of his body to hers feels like a sucker punch.

Every.

Damn.

Time.

Her eyes spark, a light glistening that foretells the chance of tears. They cause the irises to grow brighter, greener.

“Don’t tell me,” she says finally, swallowing hard. “Show me.”

With pleasure, he thinks, navigating her towards the desk again.

As if reading his mind, she’s already halfway there, boosting herself up and pulling him with her. She scoots back again along the smooth surface and he follows her; a predator, his lovely prey trapped between his arms.

“I mean,” she says blithely, her hair fanning around her like a crimson halo, “you did such a good job cleaning it up.”

He bites back a grin at her teasing tone and dips forward to nip at her throat.

“I was hoping you’d notice,” he murmurs against her skin.

She turns her head, guiding his face to hers, and kisses him fiercely on the lips. He responds in kind, tasting and licking at the sweet fullness of her mouth.

Keeping his lips on hers and one hand braced on the desk, he glides his other hand down her smooth skin until his fingers reach the lace of her panties. Teasingly, he plays with the little bow at the front, running his fingers lower, overtop the lace-covered mound, teasing the dampness he finds below.

She moans against his lips and he brings his hand back up, tucking it under the material, touching her skin, finding the slick heat underneath it all.

Biting back a groan, he dips his middle finger down lower, finding the wet give of her body and bringing some of that essence back to the tiny nub at the top of her entrance. Rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, he pulls back to watch her face.

Her head is thrashing lightly as she moans quietly at his touch.

“Someone’s...eager…” she pants, arching against the shiny, cool mahogany, her nipples peaked and straining towards the sky.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment for months, Brooke,” he says, unable to resist the allure of those pink nipples, beckoning for his touch. His mouth latches onto one and he runs his tongue around the dusky areola before grazing his teeth over the distended tip. She whimpers and bucks under his hand, growing wetter at each moment that passes.

“The chance to be with you without hiding from anyone,” he continues, moving to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment, his middle finger still working her in an agonizingly slow caress.

“Now that it’s here—” He shifts the finger back down to the entrance of her body, filling her with it, unable to help the groan that escapes him as he feels her clench around him.

“—I can hardly help myself,” he ends in a strangled groan. His desperation reaches a fever pitch. All he wants is for her to feel good, to shatter around him, to be brought to the brink and over the edge because of him—

“Show me what you want.” His voice sounds hoarse, pleading, even to his own ears. “What I can do to make you feel good.”

“How about,” she breathes, a slight sheen over her heated skin, “you use—” She breaks off, blushing slightly, before persevering. “How about you use your mouth instead? I’m enjoying your dexterity but—”

She breaks off with an awkward laugh, eyes going skyward as if she can’t believe her own gall. Her face is almost the same colour as her hair and if he wasn’t so worked up he would laugh, too.

“Say no more.”

He takes his time in kissing his way down her body, marking every pale freckle and scar he finds along the way. He moves over her stomach and she giggles breathlessly at the tickle of his stubble. Further down he goes, before finally he’s kissing her over the lace of her panties, breathing in the familiar scent of the most intimate part of her. Reaching up, he pulls the underwear down and off, sending them flying in the same general direction as his clothes’ heap.

He stares down at her for a beat, pink and red and perfect all over, her pale skin marred in places by the scratch of his beard, the rosy nipples beckoning him still, the neat tuft of dark auburn curls between her legs, her trembling thighs and shaky intakes of breath. Her Titian beauty strikes him once more and it’s all he can do, not to prostrate himself between her gorgeous thighs and worship at the altar of those private curls and glistening petals.

Instead, he approaches her with what he hopes is a shred of dignity, tucking his face between her legs and kissing the part of her that he covets the most. Savouring the intimate and familiar taste of her; the taste of coming home.

He feels her fingers thread through his hair, tugging almost sharply as her hips lift underneath his chin, but he’s too immersed in his task to notice. He runs his tongue over her in a measured rhythm, slipping a hand down once more to join in his ministrations, inserting one finger and then two, as she opens easily for him.

“Ohhh.” Her loud moan from above his head is nearly his undoing and he presses a hand against himself, hard, to stay his own desires for the moment.

“I love tasting you,” he murmurs against her, crooking his fingers slightly as he presses deeper inside her.

“I love the way you do it,” she pants in response. He can feel her unravelling, can feel it in the liquid heat surrounding his hands and mouth, can feel it in the increasingly erratic movement of her body beneath his.

“I want you so badly, Brooke,” he groans and, against the vibrations of his confession, she shatters.

She lets out a shout and he holds her in place as her body trembles, gooseflesh rising under his hands and on his cheek where it rests on her thigh. His own body feels shaky, tremulous, as he waits for her to come down.

“I want you to have me, Ethan,” she says finally, her voice hoarse and low. “Now.”

He almost weeps with relief.

“I was hoping you would say that. I honestly wasn’t sure I could hold off any longer—” His gratitude gets caught in his throat as she tremulously slides off of the desk and looks at him, almost bashfully, but with that familiar coyness that he’s grown to love.

She cups his face in her hands and their eyes meet, her greenish-hazel with his electric blue.

“Then don't.”

And then she turns and leans forward, forearms on his desk, ass propped up in front of him, those sky-high heels bringing her to the perfect level for—for—

Ethan feels the air depart his lungs in full force, his knees almost giving way underneath him. He looks at her bottom blankly, before searching her face. She’s smiling at him softly, those damn perfect teeth biting that damn bottom lip, a face perfectly designed to be the death of him. She inclines her chin slightly, as if to say: Are we doing this?

It’s all the permission he needs as he takes himself in hand and positions himself at the entrance of her body. Pushing back slightly, she accepts him immediately and easily, her back arching to take him further, deeper, as her palms flatten against the desk.

The moment he’s fully seated within her, she gasps, and that slight intake in breath is enough to almost make him come on the spot. Her gasp settles into a quiet moan as they find an easy rhythm, bodies moving together in perfect synchronicity.

“Ethan,” she says breathlessly, her fingertips pressing into the mahogany. “Harder.”

Thank Christ.

“I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admits in a strangled tone as he feels the wholehearted pleasure of their union overwhelm him, body and soul. Never before has he felt such a connection beyond the physical. When she grasps him inside her, when he feels the clutch of her body, intimately connected to his, it’s an emotion beyond reasoning.

A hefty admission, for someone who’d structured his whole life around reason and reason alone.

But now, “reasonable” is a far cry from how he feels as he moves his hands over her body, tracing the arch of her spine, the curve of her waist, before settling there, thumbs almost touching across the span of her back as he rocks into her, his pleasure building by the second.

He groans loudly, unable to control himself. “You feel incredible, Brooke.”

She whimpers in response and he quickly checks her face to ensure she’s alright. All he sees is her flushed cheek pressed to the desk, her full lips parted in a soft, perpetual moan, the imprint of her heated palms leaving streaks on the dark, shining wood as she drags her hands to the edge of the desk and holds on tight.

His vision whites out and it’s all the warning he can give her—

“Brooke… I’m—”

“Yes, Ethan—!”

The force building inside of him erupts in a blinding flash of undulating pleasure, skyrocketing through every extremity of his body.

Brooke’s own cries echo through the empty office as he feels her body rhythmically clenching his oversensitized flesh. A wave of exhausted, satiated rapture threatens to overtake him as he braces his hands on the desk, his bare chest meeting her bare back. Once he’s certain his legs can hold him, his arms shift into an embrace, wrapping around her torso and gathering her cooling body against him.

He holds her tightly against him for a beat, before lifting her up effortlessly. Her head lolls against his shoulder as he carries her to the couch in his office. He sits first, shifting her weight in his lap, and then he lays back, bringing her back with him. As she settles herself into his chest, he finds himself kissing her hair over and over again, the feeling of total adoration threatening to spill from his chest.

They stay like that, wrapped around one another, for a moment or two when he hears her mumble something indiscernible against his shoulder. Stroking her hair back from her face, he tilts his chin down to look at her.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, wondering if his own gaze reflects the same heavy-lidded contentment that he sees in her eyes.

“I said, ‘do we have to go back’?” she repeats, her voice still a replete murmur.

He chuckles softly, kissing her head again. Go back. He knows that she’s referring to the Gala, to their friends and colleagues gathered on the first floor of the decorated hospital. But in Ethan’s mind, it’s a more involved and complicated question than that.

No, they’re not going back.

They won’t be going back to the way things were.

To secrecy and shame, to denial and frustration.

They also won’t be going back to the job they knew, in the ways that they’ve known it. Before touching his lips to hers in that public display he’d performed down there, he’d known exactly which direction the Diagnostics Team would be headed in and what that meant for him, for her, and for the nature of her relationship.

It had been a long time since Ethan had felt anything resembling superiority over Brooke and now, they would both truly be at the same level, in every way that mattered.

He smiles softly as he rubs his cheek against the top of her head, listening to her even breaths.

There still isn’t much that Dr Ethan Ramsey cares about.

But there is one thing.

And he wraps his arms around it even tighter.

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices open heart #open heart 2 #open heart fanfic #playchoices #open heart 2 fanfiction #Ethan POV #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey pov #oph #oh #oph2 #ophsy #oph fanfic #oph 2 fanfic #my fics

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boldly-ho · 4 years ago

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Another Life - Chapter 24

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: E

Word Count: 3187

Chapter Summary: It’s what we’ve been waiting for, folks. They finally do it.

A/N: Hey, I’m really sorry about the delay. COVID messed up my thesis AGAIN so I’ve been playing catch up at school. I’ll try to be more consistent. As always, this is also on AO3.

You picked at your plate of chips while Vladislav stared intently at you. When insisted on taking you out to dinner despite the fact that he couldn’t eat, you insisted on somewhere simple and affordable, that he wouldn’t hate being. So, you were eating chips at The Big Kumara. If you thought being there would be less awkward than at a fancy restaurant, you were mistaken. It was just plain odd eating while you were being stared down.

But, if you were going to be dating Vladislav, you supposed you should try to get used to it.

“Thanks,” you said again, gesturing to the food in front of you.

He smiled. “They’re just chips.”

You ate another.

“So, the last time you and the guys brought me here, you mentioned you knew the owner,” you began.

“Yes.”

“And when we came in just now, the bouncer said we were ‘welcome.’”

Vladislav grinned, obviously anticipating what you were building to.

You continued, “This is a vampire bar, isn’t it?”

The second the words left your lips, you felt like an idiot. A vampire bar? What the hell was a vampire bar? Why would vampires even need a bar? They didn’t eat or drink.

“It is, yes.”

Oh.

“Why?”

His eyebrows turned down. “Why what?”

“Why would vampires want a bar?”

He shrugged. “To lure in victims.”

You glanced around the bar. You and Vladislav were the only two people there. “And how often does that work out?”

“Every now and then.”

So, not often.

“How many vampires are there? Around here?”

“80 or so around Wellington, I think.”

You shuddered at the thought. How did it not seem like people were going missing all the time?

“Is that normal?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It just seems like a lot.”

“Not really,” he said. “That’s pretty typical for a city this size.”

That alarmed you. You’d thought vampires were much more rare than that. A part of you was willing to believe that the majority of Wellington’s vampires lived with you. 80 out of the entire population of the city wasn’t a lot really, technically. But how many people must they be eating? How often must they be eating? And the fact that it wasn’t a lot more than usual, that everywhere was like this… And that was just the vampires. There were werewolves, witches, all manner of creatures out there. It was amazing anyone survived long enough to die of old age.

“Y/N?” Vladislav prompted, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’re thinking pretty loudly.”

You returned his smile. “Sorry.”

“I know it seems like a lot, but you weren’t even aware of vampires before moving in with us. We tend to keep a low profile, as a species.”

“I suppose so,” you conceded with a small laugh. He was right, of course. People didn’t just disappear off the streets, not at a higher rate than normal, anyway. Those 80 vampires hadn’t affected your life at all, nor had they affected the lives of most people, it seemed.

Apparently, this was just how the world was.

You went back to eating your fries.

Dawn was out of town visiting a relative, so you finally had a chance to do the stupid thing she wouldn’t want you to. It was so stupid, in fact, that you hadn’t even broached the topic with her, knowing how she’d react.

And she’d be right. You shouldn’t do it.

You finished applying your makeup, ready to go out on the town.

Like an idiot.

The disappearances had been slowing, but they certainly hadn’t stopped. Your brain morbidly supplied the suggestion that the disappearances were slowing because there weren’t many women left who matched the description of those missing.

You feared you were one of the last.

All the more reason for you not to go out.

You didn’t know why you were. It’s not like you had a death wish. At least, you thought you didn’t.

Maybe you did.

You grabbed your purse and headed out.

You and Vladislav returned home, closing the front door behind you. You turned to look up at him. This part was weird. Generally on a first and second date, and whatever your make out session at Boogie Wonderland could be classified, the members went home separately. It was always abundantly clear what would happen next. Unless someone was invited in, you went to bed alone. And if someone was invited in, that sent a pretty clear message, as well.

The established dating protocols really fell apart when you were flatting with your date.

“So…” you began, desperately hoping he would take over, as you had no idea how to finish.

He obliged. “Let’s go upstairs.”

You faltered. Again, with the lack of clarity. Each of your individual bedrooms were upstairs. He might mean ‘Let’s each go up to our own bedrooms alone.’

But he might not.

He kissed you goodnight after your first date. He kissed you goodnight after you’d walked home from Boogie Wonderland. He wasn’t kissing you goodnight now. Instead, he was giving you an almost predatory smile.

“Your room or mine?” he asked.

Oh. That was clearer.

Is this what you wanted, though? Obviously you were attracted to him. (Very obviously.) But this was only your second date. Well, it could count as a third date if you were being generous. And people definitely hooked up on third dates. That was a whole thing.

You were wearing matching underwear. You’d shaved. Your bedroom was even clean.

Vladislav brought his hand up to rest on your hip, and you suddenly couldn’t think of a reason not to go for it.

“My room,” you said, quickly weighing the benefits of your bed against the drawbacks of his coffin.

And then he was taking your hand, leading you upstairs to your bedroom, guiding you like you were a guest in your own home. He tugged you along, and you had to half jog to keep up with him as he rapidly climbed the stairs.

You swung the bedroom door shut behind you, and it slammed with a loud thud you had no doubt could be heard throughout the house. You barely had time to wonder who of you flatmates were currently home before Vladislav had you pushed up against the door, his lips on yours.

You leaned into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his hands roaming over your clothes before you gently pushed him away.

“Wait a sec?” you said, gesturing over the bathroom door.

He nodded and stepped back, letting you walk into the bathroom, shedding your bag and jacket and kicking off your shoes as you went. You absently pulled the door closed as you entered, but it didn’t latch, leaving a small crack in the doorway. That was fine; you’d just wanted to freshen up.

You wiped any smudged makeup from under your eyes as you swished some mouthwash around. Not that it really mattered. He’d already kissed you with chips on your breath. You spit into the sink and faced your reflection in the mirror, brushing your fingers through your hair in an attempt to re-tame it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him push open the door and step into the bathroom. You managed to suppress an eye roll. He really wasn’t big on boundaries, was he?

Eyes still locked on your own reflection, you said, “It’s been about 60 seconds. Not very patient, are we?”

“You make me very impatient.”

You gasped and jumped in surprise. His voice had come from directly behind you. Being a vampire, though, he wasn’t reflected in the mirror, so you’d had no idea how close he was until he spoke.

“Relax,” he said, bringing his hands up to your hips. “Don’t turn around,” he added as you began to pivot. “Keep looking in the mirror.”

Vladislav bent his head down to kiss the side of your neck. You could just make out his dark form in your peripheral vision, and it took all your willpower to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. An excited chill ran through your body as you gazed into the mirror. You couldn’t see Vladislav, but you could see the evidence of him. The fabric of your shirt was rumpled where his hands rested. Your hair was mussed where he had brushed it out of his way. Your face was flushed already.

Vladislav’s hands lifted from your hips, and you bit the inside of your lower lip in anticipation, bracing your hands against the counter. You couldn’t see his hands and didn’t know what to expect from him until you felt his hands come to rest on your chest.

Your breath hitched when you felt his breath on your ear. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, unable to speak, and his hands began moving, groping. His hands squeezed your chest firmly, strongly, just shy of painful. You couldn’t hide the small moan that escaped your lips. His hands meandered down your body, exploring its curves until they once again reached your hips. His left hand dipped under your shirt, lightly trailing back up your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your bare skin, and settling back on your chest, kneading the flesh there. His right hand stayed lower, deftly unfastening your pants.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he said. His hand came up to your face and gently guided it toward the mirror.

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown. Your chest heaved with your deep breathing. You could see the outline of his moving hand under your top, but his other movements remained a mystery. That is, until you felt his hand slide into your pants, reaching downwards until he reached the spot he was looking for. He slid a digit between your folds and you gently gasped at the intimate movement.

“Wet already?” he whispered into your ear. You could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

You wanted to say something clever. Witty. Something that could knock him down a peg. Raise you up a peg. Anything to level the playing field. Instead, you moaned.

Damn him.

“That’s what I thought.” He sounded even smugger than before.

You wondered if there was some sort of vampire-related reason you were so into this so fast. Barely anything had happened yet and you were practically a puddle. You considered asking if this was just a vampire thing. You didn’t, though, for fear of insulting him if the answer was yes, or being humiliated if the answer was no.

A wide finger slipped inside you, altogether halting your train of thought, and you bit your lip to keep from making a pathetic sound. Although you couldn’t see Vladislav in the mirror, he could see you, and brought his other hand from under your shirt to gently pull your lower lip from your teeth.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he gently chided as he began working his finger in and out of you.

You ground your hips against his hand, hyperaware of the cool metal of the ring of his pinky finger pressed against the junction of your thigh. He added a second finger to his ministrations, and you startled momentarily, almost looking down instead of ahead into the mirror. But if your gaze faltered, neither of you noticed.

Vladislav’s chest was pressed against your back, effectively pinning you against the sink. His hair fell forward, brushing against the nape of your neck, and the pendants of the two long necklaces he wore dug almost painfully into your shoulder blade. You could feel his hard cock pressed firmly against your ass as you ground your hips. The glimpses of him you caught out of the corner of your eye- his hair, his nose, his shirtsleeve- were beginning to drive you mad, when he pulled away all at once.

His fingers were gone and so was his presence at your back.

Careful to keep your eyes on the mirror, you asked in a voice breathier than you would have liked, “Vladislav?”

He didn’t answer. At least, not vocally. Instead, you felt his hand at your hips, thumbs dipping into the waistband of your pants. In one swift move, he pulled your pants down to your ankles, and a shiver ran up your now bare legs as the room’s cool air hit them. His hands slowly trailed up the outside of your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until he reached your underwear.

“Do you want me to take these off?” he asked.

That stopped you short. Why would he ask that? Of course you wanted him to take them off. How else were you supposed to proceed? Then you realized that, obviously, that was his way of asking if you still wanted to proceed. He was checking in to make sure you wanted this.

You nodded rapidly, repeatedly, before breathlessly managing a “yes.”

Your underwear was removed and you briefly felt foolish and mildly unattractive, standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your top. Vladislav apparently did not share those doubts about your appeal, however, as you suddenly felt him pressed between your thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him unfasten his pants.

His right hand came up to your sternum, pulling you against him. His left, presumably, was being used to position himself, because you felt the head of his cock slowly press into you.

“Oh fuck,” you exhaled as he slid himself fully into you. His breath was ragged and irregular in your ear, morphing into a deep but quiet moan when he was fully sheathed inside you. That was a sound you could certainly get used to.

You both remained still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation. You felt pleasantly full, stretched, though not to the point of pain. The heat low in your belly demanded movement, friction, but you were pinned between his body and the sink, unable to do much more than squirm.

Before you could say anything, though, Vladislav oh so slowly, teasingly, pulled out, leaving just the head inside of you, before pushing ing back in, only slightly faster. You let out a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, from high in your throat, as he repeated the motion. As he began to rhythmically thrust in and out of you, you rocked your hips back to meet his, both fucking one another against the bathroom sink.

His hands were everywhere, it seemed, a frenzy of motion, on your stomach, your hips, your arms, taking in everything they could, before he returned to your chest. He squeezed, pinching and twisting your nipples through your shirt, pulling whining moans from your throat. With a particularly rough thrust, Vladislav threw your body forwards, and you braced your hands against the mirror to stop yourself from colliding into it. You moaned loudly as he repeated the harsh movement. Whether spurred by your vocalizations or the by the sensations involved, you didn’t know, but he continued with this aggressive pace, and you increased your own thrusting in kind.

Your head was spinning from the delicious feeling of him stretching you open, hitting just too hard, just too deep. The glass of the mirror felt almost like ice under your heated hands. The porcelain of the sink would likely leave bruises on your thighs from where you were being pushed into it on each of his thrusts. You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt his lips brush against your neck.

“Vladislav!” you’d meant it to be a whisper, but it had come out just shy of a shout.

Your own moans, his panting breath punctuated by masculine grunts, the wet sound of your flesh slapping harshly together, the metallic link of his necklaces against one another, the rustle of your shirts against one another… it was so much, almost too much, dizzying.

“Fuck, fuck…” he breathed.

You were close, so close. You could tell he was getting there too. He was picking up speed, losing rhythm.

“Vlad- I-“ you struggled to find words. Your brain felt like mush.

Thankfully, though, he either understood or predicted your request, because he brought a hand down to where you most needed it, rubbing your clit in firm but gentle circles. You feel yourself clench around him hard as you orgasmed, feeling the tingling in your abdomen, your back, spreading upwards and throughout your body until you felt like nothing so much as a pulsation of warmth, of static, of pleasure. He could tell, you realized, as he chuckled deeply in your ear, and you gasped as he followed, coming hard, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan.

As his movements slowed, you finally let yourself fall forward onto the mirror, your forehead leaning on the surface. Your breath left small puffs on condensation on the glass as you tried to regulate your breathing. Vladislav relaxed on top of you, not weighing you down, but leaning against you. You couldn’t quite make out his form where his head rested on your shoulder, but you felt his breath through your shirt.

You stood there in a silence that seemed deafening compared to the noise that had come before, savoring the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back, his softening member still resting inside of you.

Eventually, though, he pulled slowly out of you, and you whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty. He took a step back, and you pushed yourself off of the mirror, noting the smudges now decorating the smooth surface.

You turned to face him, resting your bare ass against the sink as he tucks himself into his pants. You felt spent, physically and emotionally, and very much in need of a good night’s sleep, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips when you caught sight of the wicked grin he’s throwing at you.

“What?” you asked as you bend forward, pulling up your pants. You felt suddenly shy for someone who was just railed to a very intense orgasm.

He shrugged, still smiling. “Nothing, really. You just seemed like you enjoyed yourself quite a bit.”

You considered pointing out that egotistical wasn’t a good look on him, that he also seemed to be having a pretty good time, or that insinuating that he was a good lay actually detracted from how good a lay he was.

Instead, you let him have this one, saying, “Yes, I did.”

“Me too.”

He surged forward, pulling you into a rough kiss, hardly giving you any time to reciprocate before pulling away just as quickly.

“Come to bed with me now?” he asked, the suggestion loaded with innuendo.

You raised an eyebrow, your earlier fatigue fading at his tone, and headed towards your bed, trusting that he’d follow.

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #vladislav #vladislav x reader #another life #al fic

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smutonsmutlnsmut · 4 years ago

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The Newest Avenger

Part 2: First Mission

Summary: (y/n) has her first mission with the team

A/n: hi!! part 2 is here! Smut is coming in the next part :)

Pairing!Steve x Reader

Warnings: not much, drinking, talk about fighting

Word count: 2000

“She’s hot” Bucky said.

The boys and Nat were sitting in the living room late that night. Nat laughed at Bucky’s comment knowing he had a little crush on the new girl. “She seems very nice, and smart, she seems smart” Steve said quietly. “I mean to go through what she’s gone through and not hate the entire world? That’s hard”

“Okay old man”

You woke up the next morning in such a good mood. You had a new home, as long as you were good of course, but a home. You were up a lot earlier than everyone else and went exploring. You found a large empty room on the second floor. You went in and looked around. You asked F. R. I. D. A. Y. if this was used for anything and she said no. You started working on something you thought would be quite beneficial for the team. A few hours later Bruce came to where you were and had a confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?”

You stood up and showed him to the control pad outside of the door. The room was surrounded with glass and looked like it always has.

“I made a training room” you were so excited to finally show someone what you had been working on all morning.

“I don’t mean to be rude... but it looks the way it always does” Bruce was confused. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, especially after hearing what you had gone through as a kid, but it was a normal room.

“Click this”

The room changed. It was like a virtual reality room. You could change the setting from the control pad. Any climate, any place. You could also make fake targets, people, anything. Bruce was shocked. How did you do this? He tried a couple different settings and every time he switched, he was more and more impressed.

“Wow” he finally said, “how did you do this?”

You started explaining how you put it all together, you weren’t as smart as Bruce, but you were pretty close. He was amazed that you could do something like this, especially with your life story you told everyone yesterday. He was confused as to how you were so smart. You had breakfast with everyone and Bruce was bragging about your invention and everyone seemed quite impressed.

It had been a couple days at the compound for you now, you, Wanda and Nat had become quite good friends. Everyone made you feel welcome. Clint, Steve and Sam were away on a mission, so you got to know Bucky, Bruce, Thor, Vision, and Tony quite well. They all seemed to like you, which made you quite happy.

The next morning you got up earlier than everyone like always and went to train. You set it to an open terrain and over 100 enemies. You went into the room and started kicking some ass. Because of the glass, anyone can watch whoever is training in the room. You finished and took a sip from your water bottle. You told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to repeat the session and went back to it. Once you finished your full training session you looked up at the glass and saw Steve watching you. “Hey” you didn’t know why he was watching you.

“Hey, great job in there. You’re pretty powerful” he was avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks, I’m still trying to figure it all out”

“Oh… I don’t just mean your powers, you’re a strong fighter”

You smiled at him as you walked past to head to your room. You had a shower and came back out to the common area. You couldn’t keep Steve off of your mind. You couldn’t blame yourself though, he is beautiful. Wanda didn’t keep her promise to not read your mind.

“You do realize the only thing you think about is Steve...” she whispered to you during breakfast.

“Wow I didn’t think someone else would tell me about my thoughts, but thanks Wanda” you both laughed.

“He also spends a lot of time thinking about you, you know”

Before you could reply Tony walked in saying you all had to meet in the conference room. You grabbed your smoothie and headed there with the rest of the group. You felt this excitement come over you, was this your first mission with the team? You had no idea what to expect.

As you all gathered in the conference room, you kept looking around to see if anyone else was nervous. Of course, they weren’t, they’d done this so many times it was like clockwork. You sat in between Wanda and Nat and directly across from Steve. You tried not to stare but he was irresistible. Like a car accident, you can’t look away even if you should.

Tony explained the mission and what everyone’s role was. You and the team had to go to a very fancy event to try to get information from a mob boss. He was known for attacking innocent people at large gatherings, so you all had to make sure that didn’t happen. You, Wanda, Nat, Steve, Bucky, Tony and Sam were the ones going. Tony dismissed you all and as you started to realize that you had nothing to wear. How were you supposed to go to a fancy event in jeans and a sweater?

“It’s okay love, we’ll go shopping and use Tony’s credit card”

“Wanda!!”

“I’m sorryyyy, you just looked like you were deep in thought and I didn’t want to interrupt”

You two laughed and decided to take Nat with you on your shopping adventure. You all returned to the compound and you all got ready together. Your hair was up in a high slicked back ponytail, full face of natural, gorgeous makeup, and a long silver dress. It hugged your curves perfectly and had a deep V that went down to your bellybutton area. You had never seen yourself like this, you thought you looked beautiful. Which is rare, you normally wore sweats, sweaters or workout clothes. You never thought of yourself as beautiful. Not that you were super insecure, but you’d never even kissed a guy before. You never saw yourself as sexy, but today you felt as though you were the sexiest girl in town. Besides your best friends, of course. Wanda could tell you weren’t sure about this outfit and reassured you that you were stunning.

Tony called out to let you three know that it was time to leave. The three of you were about to leave your room but you stopped in your tracks. Steve. He was going to see you like this. Was this too much for him? Your heart was racing and your thoughts were all over the place.

“Oh my God, (y/n) let’s go” Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room.

You walked down the hallway towards the elevator. Trying to look confident and definitely not looking at Steve. As you approached the elevator the boys were all staring at you, except for Tony who was getting mad because you were going to be late.

“Damnnnn (y/n), you look fine as hell” Sam said.

You smiled back at him, still avoiding eye contact with Steve. You all got into the elevator, then of course Tony had to open his big mouth.

“So, to not look crazy suspicious we’re going to go in pairs, there is 4 limos waiting outside. Happy is going to be with me, Nat you’ll go with Bucky” Oh for the love of God. “Wanda you’ll go with Sam” Shit. “and (y/n) you’ll go with Steve.” You nodded, still avoiding eye contact you look at Wanda and saw her smiling.

As you got to the limo Steve opened the door for you, you smiled to thank him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to force any words out. He got in on the other side. As you started to drive, there was an awkward silence that felt like you had been sitting there for hours.

“You look beautiful”

“Oh, umm thanks, y-you too. Oh, sorry I meant you look handsome” you would be thinking about that embarrassment tonight before you fell asleep.

“Why thank you”

The ride there was a lot better than you thought it would be. You shared stories, made each other laugh and had a genuinely good time. Once you got to the venue Steve opened your door and helped you out. You got to your standing table and grabbed two glasses of champagne.

“You know we’re not really supposed to drink on a mission” Steve chuckled.

“I know, but if we don’t we’ll look weird Mr. Captain America”

He smiled. Mostly because you just called him MR. Captain America, but also because you were smart.

The mission went well. No one was injured and you and the team caught the mob boss and took him into custody. On your way out the staff thanked you all and you grabbed a bottle of champagne and stole two glasses. When you got back into the limo Steve had a big smile on his face. You popped the champagne and poured it into the glass.

“Can I help you?” you teased.

“Couldn’t wait till we got back?”

“Nope.”

Back at the compound Tony decided to have a party to celebrate the mission. He also wanted to celebrate you because you helped a lot this evening. Everyone was having a good time. You, Wanda, Nat and Sam were all sitting at a table chatting and laughing.

Six shots and almost a full bottle of champagne later, you weren’t doing so hot. You saw Steve sitting with Bucky drinking a beer. So you decided to head on over there. Stumbling on your way, the boys noticed and Steve got up to help you sit down in his seat.

“Bucky how have you had like twenty beers and you’re still alive?”

“I don’t really get drunk… serum stuff”

“Same with you Steve?”

He nodded. You felt embarrassed. You were wasted and they were definitely not. You guys talked for a while, but then Wanda and Nat came to get you to go dance for a while. You didn’t give any fucks about who was watching, you were focused on not falling over.

“she is fucked up…” Bucky said

“Yea she is” Steve was concerned. He didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

You noticed that a lot of people had gone home, but to be honest, you didn’t know what time it was or who was still here. You felt a presence behind you and started dancing closer to them. Wanda gave you a look and you turned around and almost fell. Steve caught you in his arms. It took you a second to realize who it was.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry Captain” He liked that you called him that. The way you said it made him feel a type of way he couldn’t quite describe. He also knew that you were very, VERY drunk, and that he should take you back to your room. He guided you towards the hallway where all of your rooms were.

“Taking me to bed Captain?” you didn’t even realize what you said. When you were about to pass his room, you stopped and went to the door.

“This is my room” He thought you were just confused.

“I know.”

He opened the door and you fell onto his bed. He was kind of confused. You stood up shakily and turned around.

“Can you undo this please?” motioning to the zipper on the back of your dress. He kind of stood there for a second before he moved. He went into his dresser to get out some sweats and one of his hoodies. You smiled. You also had no fucking clue as to what was going on. He unzipped your dress just seeing the top part of your thong. You grabbed the clothes he gave to you, put them on and jumped into bed.

“Sleep well” he said as he walked towards the door to leave.

“Please stay with me?” you phrased it as a question, but he knew it was more of a command.

He thought about it for a second, then came into bed with you. Too bad you probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. He fell asleep a lot faster than you did. He snored, which you didn’t mind, you thought it was kind of cute. Right when you were about to fall asleep you felt his arm wrap around you. This was nice.

#mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #steve rogers #marvel #marvel smut

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narniagiftexchange · 4 years ago

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THE WINTER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for: @lily-baker-love from @noctusfury.

once a queen, always a queen.

G-rated, K-rated language, one-shot, 4.5k words. Rated for angst. But also hurt/comfort.

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Summary: As Susan is prepping for a party, she reminisces on the days that she had once had as Quen of Narnia, and grieves. Thankfully, though, she’s not alone in this regard.

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Once there was a Queen who was said to be of legendary beauty — like that of her predecessor Queen Swanwhite the First many, many centuries before, before Jadis invaded Narnia and succumbed it into a Hundred Years of Winter. The Legends even claimed that this Queen was the reincarnated Swanwhite herself! And like the Queen of Old, this Queen was regal, kind, and gentle; though, unlike her predecessor, she had a fiery spirit hidden within that belayed her gentle nature. Even went to battle a few times in the beginning years of their reign during the Golden Years.

Such was her enchantment, such was her status, and such was her beauty, that nobles and kings and princes came far and wide from every nation in the world seeking her hand; their passions peaking to the point of starting wars to win her hand (though how anyone thought that to be flattering or attractive was beyond anyone’s guess).

Such were the legends of the Queen Susan — called the Gentle — of Narnia.

And where is this fabled Queen now, pray tell?

No longer does she dwell in Narnia. No longer does she reside in Cair Paravel, with her royal siblings. No longer she rule as Queen of that magical land, for her time in Narnia had come to an end.

So where does she dwell, then? In Aslan’s Country?

Well, not quite. She is, in fact, still alive, but living in a different world, in a different country, in a different city. Wearing different clothes, at a different time, in a different age.

She was younger, too; not quite an adult, but close to being one — a mini-adult. Even for the tender age of sixteen, she looked like a woman in her early 20s, and mature for her age, making her seem like a woman twice her age.

In this world, this Queen of Old is known by this name: Susan Pevensie, resident of London, England, in the year 1943 — and her world was in the middle of a long and terrible war. This forced her parents, Mrs. Pevensie and the newly-returned Mr. Pevensie, to visit a relative at the British Embassy in America. And they took their two eldest, Peter Pevensie and herself with them, leaving their two younger siblings, Edmund and Lucy behind with relatives.

And here was Susan Pevensie, in Miami, Florida, prepping herself for a party in the privacy of her guest room. She was humming a tune (a song from her days in Narnia) as she ran her brush along her dark hair, and even though she was facing herself in the mirror, her eyes were glazed over, deep in thought.

It had been years — two on Earth, 1,300-something years in Narnian time — since they had last been in Narnia. Not the Narnia that they had been so rudely reintroduced to the second time, but their Narnia — the Narnia that they knew that had magic and life and peace and prosperity. The Narnia that had a thriving population and a strong army and a navy and had never been invaded or defeated by any person or nation since the days of Jadis the White.

The Narnia that she and her siblings had ruled for fifteen years (and had hoped to continue ruling for many years after) that had been so forcefully taken from them and replaced with a Narnia they didn’t even know anymore — wild, untamed, savage, unfamiliar, unwelcoming, dangerous, quiet, barren. And very much changed.

It was no longer the Narnia they knew; the REAL Narnia left with them.

And with it, any chance of becoming Queen once more… vanished.

Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen.

Those had been Aslan’s words.

A wry smile graced Susan’s features as she combed her hair, appreciating the irony that didn’t escape her. As she put her brush down and began braiding her hair, her eyes clouded once more in thought.

She had once a Queen — a Queen of Narnia. Queen Susan the Gentle.

But no more.

No, the young woman staring back at Susan was no Queen at all, but an imposter — a pale imitation of the vision she used to be. Of the Queen she once was, in possession of a title that had been cruelly wrested from her.

She missed the days when she could take strolls along the hewn stone hallways… along the pathways… and the vibrant, lush gardens, feeling the stones and the grass sing beneath her feet, pulsing and vibrating with gaiety and life. To see the flowers and trees swaying to the sweet whistles and gentle caresses of the sea wind, content and blissful. To hear the casual chattering and snippets of conversations among the Animals of Narnia as she made her rounds through the castle grounds, giving her their various forms of greetings and utterances of respect according to their species as they were made known of her presence. True to her title, she enjoyed talking with them and the other Narnians; but she particularly enjoyed her time with the various Animals throughout the castle and Narnia. They were so filled with innocence and trust and life that she couldn’t help but smile fondly at them — she smiles, even now, a world and millennia away, as she travels and reminisces through old and time-touched memories.

Oh, to go back and experience it once more… to feel it once more…

A frown graces her features, a flash of pain in her eyes, before scoffing and shaking her head, trying to rid of her mind of longings already thwarted. It was no use dwelling on them anymore.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. But the longing for what once was was so potent that she could taste the bitterness in the back of her throat. A wet sensation broke her from her thoughts as she looked at her hand quizzically. Her hand had a few small droplets on them. What are these—

Oh…

Susan returned her gaze to the mirror to find that she was crying. Two tears were rolling down her cheeks, slightly disfiguring the makeup she had only recently applied. And like a leaking dam, more began their descent.

“No… no, not now. I have a party to get to soon.” she groaned as she dried her tears. Unfortunately, logic rarely prevails over feelings when in emotionally-charged situations… not unless someone was amply determined.

And Susan was determined to go to the party and have a good time with Peter and their parents.

“Susan?" Speak of the devil.

Susan turned around to see a worried Peter in a fine-looking tuxedo that she assumed he borrowed from their uncle-in-law, Andrew Perry, who worked in the U.S. War Department. (He was the one who was throwing the party at his villa.) With his immaculate suit, his hair neatly combed, and with the stature and air that he took, he looked every inch a King — even when he was no longer one.

Susan tried to compose herself and gave a weak smile. "Oh, hello, Pete. Sorry, still trying to finish my confounded makeup. Got it all smudged. Tell Aunt Harriet that I’ll be down there shortly.”

Peter wasn’t detoured in the slightest. “Are you alright? I heard you crying when I came in.”

The smile froze on her face. “Crying? Why on Earth would I be crying? I was giggling. I’m very much looking forward to the gala that Uncle Andrew’s hosting tonight.” she assured him, putting on a winning smile.

But the look in his eyes as he gazed at her reminded Susan that no matter what he looked like, Peter was still Peter — her beloved brother and close confidante. She could never hide things from him with full success.

Susan nodded numbly. Peter sighed, his expression turning sorrowful, as he made his way to his sister and gave her a hug from behind. She surrendered to his gesture and melted against him, leaning back as much as she could on the chair.

Peter looked at her reflection in the mirror, carbon copies staring right back at them. “I miss Narnia, too.”

Susan’s eyes widened and snapped to look at her brother. “How did you—”

Peter gave her a side glance. “I’m your brother, remember. And you’re not the only one who’s thinking about Narnia.” he gave her a teasing half-smile and she huffed. “Besides, we’re about to go to a party and getting dressed up; I just figured that would naturally bring back memories for the both of us — as they do now.”

Susan looked away from him. “You’re perceptive… as always. And I thought Edmund was bad.” but she was smiling, if only slightly.

Peter breathed a chuckle. “Well, since Ed isn’t here, it is my duty as High King to do what I can in his stead.”

Another huff — this time in annoyance. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked her, giving her a puzzled look.

“You do know that we’re no longer Kings and Queens now, right? We’re not in Narnia anymore! We’ll never be in Narnia anymore! So stop acting like you’re still a king! You’re not one in this world, Peter!”

“Don’t you remember what Aslan said? Once a King—”

“I don’t give a fig about what Aslan said, Peter! He lied! He said we couldn’t come back to Narnia anymore! He took us away from Narnia! So we are now in our own world, without comfortable clothes, without talking Animals; without battles, or armour, or weapons; nor dancing in balls, or wooing or being wooed by handsome princes or fair maidens — no more being Monarchs of anyone or anything!”

Peter sat there, stunned, as Susan vented out her frustrations. Realization awoke in his blue eyes as he stared down at her, as if connecting something.

“You’re hurt.” the simple, matter-of-fact way he said those words both relieved her and vexed her. But… it was as if he sympathized with her. Like he himself had gone through it himself. “You feel betrayed by those whom you trusted irrevocably. Guilty, because you felt like you betrayed those whom trusted us when we disappeared — even though it was through no fault of our own; there was no way we could’ve known it, nor could’ve prevented it. Still, you continue to doubt and blame yourself, cursing the day that you and your siblings ever deigned to entertain the idea of hunting the White Stag, or following Lucy back into that Wardrobe, wishing that we had never laid eyes on it and just returned to Cair Paravel.”

Susan’s eyes widened as Peter was laying bear everything that had been festering in her thoughts — as if he had manifested them himself.

But Peter Pevensie was far from done: “You feel pain, because it was a home away from home — literally a world away from war and violence, hate and pain. A home that we had built with our own hands, created a world that anyone and everyone could live in, and made a family out of the people and friends that we had come to know. And then suddenly left them all without a word, and then return to that same world, only to discover that the home we had built up for ourselves — the world that we had created with all of our dear friends — no longer exists, and had been replaced by a wilder and dangerous Narnia that we had never known or thought capable of existing. It was a shock and a travesty to witness. And the pain worsens when you realize that the Narnia — with your home and your friends — that you knew… was gone.

"And then that pain manifests into anger. Because how could this have happened? How could this have been allowed? Surely this has been a mistake! Why can’t things have been reversed? Why couldn’t we have stayed? Was there any time to do anything about it?Could anything have been done? And then you’re just angry — angry that you weren’t there, angry that everything and everyone whom you loved was no more, furious that an enemy had laid claim to Narnia and persecuted her people for centuries unchecked without you being there, incensed that the One who made you a Monarch with your siblings chose another — born from the very people who persecuted and slaughtered your own — to succeed you as this New Narnia’s ruler, even though you always thought Narnia to be yours alone — that you assumed that, naturally, you’ll return to being to Narnia permanently and being their Rulers again, only to have even that taken away from you. So then all your left with is the emptiness of ‘why am I even here, then, if not to resume our rightful place?’ And then that burning betrayal of being replaced, that you think that the One Whom you looked up to almost as a father sees you as replaceable, unwanted, and having failed your job. And that desperation at having to prove yourself and to everyone that you were meant to stay, that you should be Ruler of Narnia again, not this reformed child of the enemy who had hurt the very people he’s meant to rule over.”

At this point, it was beginning to sound like he was talking more about himself than Susan’s own misgivings (since she, herself, never had that problem), but realized that perhaps Peter was opening his heart to her to show her that he, himself, had went through that same pain, back when they had returned to Narnia the second time. So she didn’t say anything and let him continue. (Her education as a Queen taught her that much.)

“And then, when all’s said and done, you feel nothing but grief — when you finally realize that, when it comes down to it, you no longer want to be Ruler of this New Narnia, with its new residents and new enemies and stepping into unknown territory. When, at last, you begin to understand:

"You were never home. That this Narnia will never be your home. That maybe Aslan made the right choice in picking Caspian as King over this vastly changed Narnia. That it would be better to return home, here in our world, and relive our memories of the Old Narnia, our home, rather than live in this New Narnia, only to be continuously reminded of the many differences and changes, always comparing the New with the Old… and finding it wanting… finding it empty… finding it unbearable to the point of despair and the crushing weight of grief overwhelms you. So, when the time comes for you to leave, you take it, because it would be better to be somewhere else and dream of our Old Narnia, rather than be here in an entirely different Narnia… and feeling empty. And do you know something? You don’t regret it one bit, leaving Narnia the second time; it’s having had left the first time that’s putting you through so much pain and grief and longing.”

Susan heard her brother’s voice catch in his throat, and waver, and instead of hearing his voice, she hears the voice of Narnia — their Narnia — speaking in that grief-stricken tone in her mind’s eye, surreal and haunting. Calling out to them with that same longing and hoping and knowing in her voice, her eyes pleading, begging for them to return to her, their names echoing throughout time and space and dimension to them in the real world.

“Come back, Dear Children! Return to me! Where are you? Come home! Come home! I need you here… I need you safe… I need you present… I am lost without you by my side.”

That image in her mind’s eye broke the dam, and, once again, tears streamed down her face — and there was no more fight left in her to stop them. She gasped as she collided into Peter’s waiting arms, heaving sobs as she finally succumbed to the grief that had been long delayed in coming. Peter took her into himself and held her close, rubbing her back and soothing words that Susan couldn’t comprehend in her distressed state. But it didn’t matter, he was here for her, comforting her like he always did, as they had done in those bygone days.

She wept and she wept, though still conscious enough to keep from attracting unwanted company. This was an intimate moment between only her and her brother. No one else.

Finally, her sobs abated, and she became more calm, as she heard him humming an old Narnian lullaby to her as he gave her much-needed comfort. It made her feel better, and, for a brief moment, she imagined herself to be someplace else: at Cair Paravel, in their bedroom chambers, with her siblings and her snuggled together in Peter’s bed after not being able to sleep, and Peter humming-cum-singing the lullaby to them, causing them to surrender to blissful sleep, one-by-one, before falling asleep himself.

Those were the days.

When she opened her eyes, and looked up, she saw him looking at her, a question in his eyes.

She smiled, a real, genuine smile. “Thank you, Pete. I needed that.”

Peter smiled. “Anything for my Queen.”

That earned him a chuckle and a playful slap on the shoulder. “I’m not your Queen.”

Peter pondered a beat, before nodding in agreement. “That is true — you're Our Queen. There are four of us, you know.”

She snorted. “As if they’d ever let us forget it!” they both laughed. Her face fell, a feeling of guilt tugging her. “I wish dreadfully that they could’ve come with us,” she said, after a moment. “They so wanted to come to America with us.” and then, after a beat, she added, “I miss them.”

The older blond boy nodded, his smile wry. “I do, too. It’s not really the same without them here, is it?”

“No. It’s not. They would’ve loved America.”

“They would’ve.” his expression turned thoughtful, before giving her a look of determination. “Then we have only but one choice…” at her questioning look, he added, “we must live in these moments for the four of us, for the rest of our stay here. What do you say? Are you game?”

Susan gave a cheeky smile of her own. “So long as we don’t have to play hide-and-seek.”

That earned her a snort from her brother, which made her heart feel lighter. “Agreed. No hide-and-seek. Which leaves us with our only option: go to the party tonight. That is why you enjoy going to these parties, right? Wearing these gowns and stockings? Because they’re the closest you can come to the real Narnia — in the days when you were the one who hosted these parties and were the Queen wearing attire much more elegant than what we have now. To get lost in yourself and imagine the people and the room being the ballroom of Cair Paravel, and that everything is as it was… if only for a short while.”

For quite possibly the fifth time that night, Susan was all astonishment, regarded her brother as if seeing him for the first time. “How did you guess?”

“I am your brother, after all. I’ve known you my whole life — plus fifteen years, give or take. I have an enormous advantage.” he then leaned towards her. “And I’ve lately been keeping an eye on you.”

Her eyebrows rose up at that, a blush threatening to bloom on her cheeks. “For shame, Peter! I don’t need to be babysat! I’m not 5, you know.”

“I was worried about you. Ever since we came back and you closed up. I knew you were processing everything, so I kept my distance. But you should’ve confided in me… or Edmund, at least. We were all worried about you.”

Guilt gnawed at her again, and she looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Peter hugged her again. “Now you do. Please don’t shut us out again. Or else a day may come where you need us, and we won’t be around to help you.”

Susan sniffed. “I know. Thank you.” she then looked at his slightly damp and crinkled dress shirt self-consciously. She tried drying it with her hand. “Oh dear. I’ve gone and ruined your suit.”

Peter chuckled. “It’s fine. Though it’s nothing compared to what you look like.”

A look of panic crossed her face and she turned to look at the mirror, only for her reflection to come back looking shocked as she took in the extent of the damage her emotional state had caused: red eyes, ruined mascara and makeup, stained with her recent blubbing. She took her kerchief and blew on it, and wiping the evidence of any tears… at the expense of the makeup.

“Oh dear! And it look me ages to get this done right!” she lamented, her hand bearing the weight of her head in despair. “Aunt and Uncle must be waiting for us now!”

As if summoned, a knock was heard from the door. It was the butler. “Miss Susan, Master Peter!” he called from the door. “Your Aunt and Uncle are expecting you! Your ride will be here soon. Are you ready yet?”

Before Susan could reply, Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, silencing her. “Not yet, Thomas! Tell them that we’ll be down shortly. Give us a few, will you?”

“Very well, Master Peter.” the sound of footsteps could be heard fading until he was gone.

Peter turned to her. “Well now, let us get to work, shall we? We can’t be running late now!” he made a move for the makeup.

But her hand intercepted his. “I’ll do it myself, thank you.” she protested, sounding more than ever the Queen she once was. “You’ll only muck it up.”

Peter pouted. “I’ve done your makeup before… lots of times, back in Narnia.”

Susan gave him a look. “Horribly, as I recall. I looked like a blushing doll smudged in dirt!”

He gave her an indignant look. “It wasn't that bad! I did your braids and you’re eyeliner well, at least. The rest of it was… confusing.”

Susan snorted. “I’d say you were.” but she relented. “So long as you do my eyeliner, as you’ll do it much better and thoroughly than I ever could, then I shall be satisfied. But nothing else!” Peter nodded.

By the time they were done reapplying her makeup (which was light since she honestly didn’t need too much), five minutes had passed. She looked herself in the mirror again and hummed with approval. “Not bad, Pete.” then the dig. “For a boy.”

Peter rolled his eyes and stood up, also looking at the mirror and making sure he was presentable. He then lent her a hand, which she gladly accepted, and they looked at each other with smiles on their faces.

“You look beautiful. As always.”

Susan flushed self-consciously. “Thank you. You yourself look beautiful, too.” she added, a cheeky glint in her eyes.

Peter didn’t miss a beat. “Why, thank you, Milady. I do cut quite the dashing figure, don’t I?”

The Gentle Queen huffed. “Like a duck.”

“Ah, a Mallard. An excellent choice, Sister! You do know your birds.”

“I always found you to be the expert on the subject — Being 'of the clear, Northern sky’ and all that.”

Peter chuckled. “Touché.”

A knock interrupted any further discourse. “Sir! Miss! The car is waiting for you outside. Have you finished?”

“We’ll be right down, Thomas.”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter cocked his head towards his raven-haired sister. “It would seem, Dear Sister, that our carriage awaits. Shall we join them?”

Picking up on the Royal Tongue, she slipped into it like a glove. “Indeed we shall, Lord Brother. But on one condition.”

“Oh?” Peter raised a noble eyebrow, every inch the High King. “And name your terms, Fair Sister, for it shall be yours.”

“I claim you for the first two dances at the gala!” she gave him a winning smile. “What say you, Brother Mine?”

Peter beamed. “I accept those terms unconditionally, My Lady.” he gave a courtly bow, before grabbing her hand and kissing it gallantly. “How can I ever say no to the Queen of Narnia?”

Susan giggled and gave a deep curtsy. “My many thanks, High King. This night now promises to be a good one.”

“I aim to please, Sister.” Peter opened the door, and Susan, carrying her purse, passed through with a grateful look and a passing, “Good to know that chivalry isn’t dead.”

With the door closed, the eldest Pevensie turned to look at his best friend and sister, smiled, and proffered his arm to her. “Shall we, my Queen?”

His answer was her hand, as gentle and slender as its owner, slid within the crook of his arm without hesitation. A perfect fit… as if they never left. And, for a moment, the vision of an older, strapping King with a beard and shoulder-length hair, and an older, beautiful Queen with hair that reached to her ankles, came into view, and the interior of the house became that of Cair Paravel.

“Lead the way, my King. I’m with you.”

And then, as one, Peter Pevensie and Susan Pevensie strode down the hallway and walked down the steps as High King and High Queen of Narnia — as they once were, as they still are, and as they will still be — and stunning the onlookers with a sense of awed surprise at the sudden air of maturity in their air.

As they made their way to the car awaiting to take them to the party, Susan, for a brief moment, thought she could hear a Lion’s roar… and someone whispering something, but shook it off in her excitement.

But had she stood still and listened carefully, she would’ve heard an ancient female voice — that of Narnia — speak the words said to them, many, many Ages ago:

“Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen.”

#tcon #tconedit #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #narnia #type: fanfiction #narnia gift exchange #narniagiftexchange #winterexchange: 2 #from noctusfury #for lily-baker-love

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tiramisiyu · 4 years ago

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【微醺视线】 Xia Yan’s Tipsy Vision Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist

Video: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1da4y1E7MP

PART 1

Commerce Street

Placing the invitation letter into my purse, I stepped out the main door of my client’s company. I hadn’t walked for very long before I saw a somewhat familiar figure.

MC: Xia Yan? What a coincidence!

Xia Yan: [MC]! It’s you!

I didn’t know if my impression was wrong, but he seemed to be quite happy.

Xia Yan: It’s still working hours now – did you come here for field work?

MC: You can think of it that way, but it’s done already. What about you? Did you come here for your antiques business, or for an investigation?

Xia Yan: Of course it’s for an investigation. The commissions I’ve gotten recently have been increasing more and more – everyone’s finally noticed my strength.

Xia Yan: Right, will your law firm consider doing a long-term collaboration with me?

MC: I can’t call the shots on this kind of thing.

MC: Although, when it’s needed, you’ll definitely have priority.

Xia Yan: It’s a deal – you’re not allowed to go back on it.

MC: Mhmm!

Seeing Xia Yan’s happy expression, my mood also became more cheerful. I often feel full of life when with him – Xia Yan’s clients probably also feel this way.

MC: Right, your commission this time, and Conun… ahem – are they related?

Xia Yan: They aren’t. It’s the company over there – next week, they’re holding a cocktail party.

Looking in the direction he pointed to, it was the building I had just come out of. Could it be that…

Xia Yan: I need to go to that cocktail party for the commission this time.

Xia Yan: I rarely go to these kinds of occasions – they’re a little…

Xia Yan’s words were cut short by the ringing of a phone. Making an apologetic gesture towards me, he picked up his phone in a fluster.

Xia Yan: It’s already done?

Xia Yan: Alright, I’ll head over immediately! No worries, just wait for me at the original location.

After hanging up, he looked at me with a face full of regret.

MC: If there’s something urgent, you should hurry off.

Xia Yan: Ah, I wanted to chat with you a bit more. I’ve suddenly lost my motivation to work.

MC: I don’t believe that – the Great Detective Xia Yan that I know is no slacker.

Xia Yan: Haha, you’ve seen through me.

Xia Yan: I’ve made two interesting little things recently. When I’m finished with my work, I’ll invite you to the antiques shop to test them out.

Xia Yan: I’ll head off first. If you need help, remember to contact me!

MC: Mhmm… ah!

I suddenly thought about the invitation letter that the client just gave me. Saying that it was to thank me, they invited me to attend if I had time.

MC: As expected!

When I opened it to take a look, written on there was indeed a cocktail party next week.

MC: The one you’re going to is also this…

I had just wanted to call out to Xia Yan, but when I raised my head, I realized that he had already walked away.

MC: … He’s already gone.

After a day of work had ended, I returned home. Looking at that party invitation letter, I suddenly thought of a question.

MC: For this kind of event, they typically require you to attend in formal attire…

MC: So that means, if Xia Yan is attending, he’s also going to be wearing formal attire?!

Just as I was imagining how Xia Yan would look wearing formal attire, I suddenly received a call from him.

MC: Xia Yan? You’ve already finished with your work?

Xia Yan: Not at the moment, but now it’s time to take a rest, and I suddenly really wanted to give you a call.

Xia Yan: Are you working overtime? Did I disturb you?

The voice on the receiver suddenly became somewhat cautious.

MC: Don’t worry, I’ve already gotten off work and returned home.

MC: Right, Xia Yan, I’ve got a little question to ask you – do you know how to dance?

Xia Yan: Dance? Why did you suddenly ask this? There are a lot of dance styles – your question is too broad.

Xia Yan: Although I know how to dance some basic waltz and tango… one could manage to think of it as being at an introductory level.

MC: Didn’t think that you’d even know to dance waltz… that’s perfect, I’m going to…

Xia Yan: There seems to be a sudden situation – sorry, I’ll call you after.

I hadn’t even finished speaking when he hurriedly hung up the call.

MC: I couldn’t finish talking again…

MC: Oh well. Since I couldn’t tell him in time, I’ll just give him a surprise!

PART 2

Cocktail Party Venue

As it was a client’s invitation, I specially made some preparations in clothing and makeup, hoping to leave a good impression on them.

MC: I’ll consider it as an investment for future work.

Maybe it was because I came quite early, but there weren’t many people in the venue.

MC: If it’s to solve a commission… Xia Yan probably would come a bit earlier, right?

I looked around everywhere, but didn’t see anyone who looked like Xia Yan among the guests.

MC: …

Thinking back on the number of times we’ve met after our reunion, which weren’t that many, he’s always dressed up fairly casually.

MC: Today, he’ll probably be different from usual, right? Plus, if I miss this opportunity to see him dressed formally, I might not get a second chance…

MC: I should take the initiative and look for him.

After greeting the host, I walked all around the venue. I still hadn’t seen Xia Yan – instead, I’d exchanged a lot of name cards with guests…

MC: I’ve exchanged a lot of name cards – this could also be considered as a gain.

I stood near the most inconspicuous corridor to easily observe the guests.

MC: The guests have mostly all arrived at the venue, but Xia Yan still hasn’t appeared… could it be that the cocktail event he’s attending isn’t this one?

???: May I ask if you need any assistance?

A voice that was familiar, yet using an unfamiliar intonation, suddenly sounded behind me. I impulsively turned around, unexpectedly meeting that face that I had searched for a long time in this cocktail party.

MC: Xia…

Xia Yan was wearing a properly-ironed uniform. The edges of his mouth were raised in a perfect curve, and the light scattered on his head, like shattered stars in his hair. With this look that contrasted so sharply from the past, I was in a trance for a bit.

MC: …

Xia Yan: Would you like a glass of champagne?

MC: Ah… thank you…

I stiffly took a glass of champagne from the tray. The faint scent of alcohol mixed with the sweet smell of roses in the air, making me feel like my cheeks had gotten warmer.

MC: Xia Yan, I…

Just when I was hesitating about what to say, he seemed to see that I was thinking about how talk like normal.

Xia Yan: It looks like you need someone to answer your questions.

Xia Yan: I’m very willing to be at your service.

After finishing talking, he subtly tilted his head in one direction, then winked. I looked over in that direction – it was the stairs leading to the venue’s second floor.

MC: (Xia Yan hasn’t indicated his identity, probably because he doesn’t want to expose himself.)

MC: (By hinting at the stairs… does he want me to go there?)

MC: I understand, thank you.

Xia Yan: Then I will leave you first.

Bowing slightly towards me, he turned around and disappeared among the surrounding guests. Pretending to be calm, I held up my glass of alcohol, walking slowly towards the direction he hinted at.

Xia Yan: As expected of [MC] – you completely understood my hint.

Immediately, looking like he had thought of something, Xia Yan suddenly stared at me, his eyes large.

Xia Yan: No wonder you asked if I could dance on the phone… was it because you were also going to attend today’s cocktail party?

MC: It’s not completely because of this.

His typically-messy hair had also been carefully taken care of, making his baby face look like it had matured by a few years. This feeling of unfamiliarity brought by his appearance inexplicably made my heart speed up.

MC: Right, why weren’t you surprised at all to see me appear here?

PART 3

Cocktail Party Venue

MC: Right, why weren’t you surprised at all to see me appear here?

MC: Could it be that you already knew a while ago that I would attend this cocktail party?

Xia Yan: How could that be! I noticed that you were also here when I was looking through the guest sign-in form.

Xia Yan: For the matter we were talking about on the phone before, I’d originally planned to invite you to help, and even prepared an invitation letter for you.

Xia Yan: But then I thought about it – you’d only be able to attend after getting off work. It would be more important to let you take a good rest.

Xia Yan: I was actually pretty surprised when I saw you appear, but right now, I’m in the middle of investigating. I can’t act too exaggeratedly – I’ll expose myself.

MC: Expose yourself? This must be the reason why you dressed up as a waiter, right.

Xia Yan: Mm, that’s right.

Xia Yan: I prepared several plans, but I thought that that being a waiter was the most fitting. Not only is it inconspicuous, but it’s also easy to move in.

MC: Wouldn’t it be safer to pretend to be something like a janitor, like in the movies and games?

Xia Yan: That wouldn’t work! It’s not easy for a janitor to approach guests.

I used my elbow to jab at Xia Yan, purposefully teasing him.

MC: It’s not actually because janitors aren’t handsome enough?

Xia Yan: Of course not!

MC: Haha, I know you’re the most serious when it comes to work. I’m teasing you.

Xia Yan: But if we’re talking about dressing up, you…

Xia Yan: Today, you… truly look very good.

MC: Then do I not look good normally?

Xia Yan: Ah… no no, you also normally look good!

Xia Yan: It’s just that you look even better than usual! I’m not too good at expressing…

MC: Alright, don’t be so anxious. I’ve received your praises – many thanks to the handsome waiter gege.

Xia Yan: …

MC: Right – are the details about today’s operation the things that you told me over phone that day?

[Flashback]

Xia Yan: Sorry for hanging up the phone so suddenly, [MC]. Right, where were you talking about going earlier?

Not long after, Xia Yan called over again.

MC: It just so happens that I’ve recently wanted to go learn to dance. I originally wanted to ask you if you wanted to learn with me.

I decided to not bring up that I would be going to the cocktail party, while using the opportunity to tease Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: Ah? Actually… if it’s just introductory, I could also teach you…

He said this simple phrase in a stumbling manner.

MC: Sure.

MC: Now that we talk about it, have you already solved your commission? You won’t encounter another sudden urgent situation, right?

Xia Yan: Don’t worry, the matter this time isn’t dangerous – there are just a few parts that are somewhat tricky.

MC: Then is there anywhere I can help?

Xia Yan: This… I’ll have to think about it, but I can tell you about the contents of the commission.

Xia Yan: I’ve already investigated this matter for a period of time. Someone took advantage of their position to facilitate getting bribes, generating a lot in losses for my client.

Xia Yan: His own identity is inconvenient. He has no way to confirm who it was that did this, and he has no proof, so he had no choice but to directly make a report.

Xia Yan: At the end, the client found me to do an investigation. Ah, the target’s been hidden way too well…

[Flashback end]

Xia Yan: That’s right, it’s the commission I talked about that day. During my investigation for the past week, I’ve already locked down on the target – he’s in this cocktail party.

Xia Yan: I’d originally thought that being a waiter would make it very easy to get close to him, but I lost him after trying a few times. He’s very wary.

MC: So it’s like that…

MC: Then, is that person your target?

I pointed at the person in the middle of the grand hall who was making a motion like he was lifting a wineglass.

Xia Yan: It is, but how did you know?

MC: I guessed. He’s come to our law firm before to do some related law consultations, and all the questions he asked were about transferring funds abroad.

MC: That person seemed to have a past of fraud. Big Sister Zhai Xing felt that it was too risky to take this on, so she refused him, but he’s never given up.

Xia Yan: Hah, so my target almost became your client?

Xia Yan: Looks like running into you here really is a case of the gods bestowing good luck on me.

MC: Then, have you decided to let me help?

Xia Yan: I do indeed have to request this of you.

Xia Yan: I originally thought that the host would invite just the collaboration partners that he’s familiar with in this kind of business cocktail party. With your identity as a guest, it should have been very easy to get close to him.

Xia Yan: But he’s gone to your law firm and been rejected by you guys… if you rashly bring it up with him, he’ll just be guarded against you.

Xia Yan: But you can help me by getting information from the people related to the target – after all, something like taking bribes isn’t something he can do on his own.

Xia Yan: Ah, right! Before that…

He held his right hand in front of me. A metal object flashed silver in his hand, looking like a little silver pendant.

MC: What is this? You’ve even made it into a rose shape – it’s so skillfully made.

Xia Yan: Let me make a grand introduction – this is a tiny communication device with a supplementary positioning function – a version made for earrings.

MC: Made for earrings? When did you start wearing earrings?

Xia Yan: Of course I don’t – this was prepared for girls. It just so happens that it can come in handy now.

PART 4

Cocktail Party Venue

Xia Yan: Alright, give me your earring first, I’ll install it on.

I’d originally wanted to ask him why he would prepare a communication device for girls, but I figured that finishing the commission was more urgent. I nodded, plucked off my earring and handed it over. He very quickly pressed the communication device on.

Xia Yan: Done!

MC: Looking at its external appearance, I can’t see that something’s been installed on at all…

I looked at my earring. I didn’t even have time to reach out to take it when Xia Yan stepped close – immediately, I felt the cool touch of his fingers on my ear.

Xia Yan: I’ll help you put it on. The placement of the communication device is somewhat special, and if you put it on yourself, you might knock it askew and affect the radio quality.

Xia Yan: Huh? Your ear is very hot – is it because of drinking alcohol?

Hearing the sound of his intentionally lowered voice, both in front of me and transmitted into my ear, I kept feeling like my face was heating up at an incessantly increasing speed.

MC: Ah, that’s probably it…

… Good thing he gave me a logical reason.

Xia Yan: If you don’t feel well anywhere later, you have to tell me immediately!

Xia Yan: Ah right, when I put it on you just now, I took the opportunity to turn the switch on. You can already hear me, right?

On this relatively quiet second floor, accompanying the faraway melodic music, I could even hear the faintly discernible sound of breathing.

MC: Mm… there’s no problem.

Xia Yan: That’s good! Soon, when I’ve confirmed that I’ve received the information from your side, I’ll tap the communication device once. If I get the evidence, I’ll tap it three times.

Xia Yan: Alright, let’s hurry to head out!

Forcing myself to cool down, I nodded. He put on his gloves, and then left first. I only descended the stairs when his back disappeared.

Xia Yan: Be aware that, at your three-o’clock position, there’s a middle-aged man wearing a dark blue suit. He might have business involvement with the target.

Xia Yan’s voice, passing through the communication device, was clearly transmitted into my ear.

MC: Roger.

I followed Xia Yan’s prompt, finding that middle-aged man. Assuming the identity of the target’s legal consultant, I started chatting with him.

Xia Yan: What abnormalities has he had recently in his funds transfers… the important point is if they were domestic or international.

I received Xia Yan’s question, considered my words a little, and led the topic over without leaving any marks.

MC: …So that’s how it is. If such a large amount was completely sent over from abroad, you must have your own social connections…

The person I was speaking to seemed to be somewhat excited and spoke a lot – it was probably caused by drinking alcohol. I deliberately raised my volume, having him repeat the useful information that he’d revealed again to ensure that Xia Yan could hear it. In our discussion, I locked down on a few new suspicious people based on the information he had revealed. It was a pity that after chatting with the new targets, I didn’t notice anything new at all.

MC: Among them, there’s still one person who was very vigilant, who refused to reveal anything at all. He probably has suspicions about my “legal consultant” identity.

MC: He’s heading over to your side now – six-o’clock direction. Looking at him, he plans to leave the venue in advance.

Xia Yan: Mm, I’ll go follow him closely. You’ve worked hard.

MC: Based on the contents that I inquired about just now, this matter involves commercial bribery, and I suspect that there’s also cross-border money laundering.

Xia Yan: Mm. I’m lucky you’re here – I’ve nearly checked completely on which people are involved in this bribery case.

Xia Yan: Although, as far as I can see, there are still a few small problems that I need to solve.

MC: Then I’ll wait here for your good news.

With the tasks delegated to me done for now, the next part would be for Xia Yan to do.

After about an hour had passed, and with the cocktail party nearing its end, I finally heard three tapping sounds transmitted to my ear. I unconsciously raised my head – he just happened to put down his tray on the wine table, passing by my side.

Xia Yan: The task is done – you did very well.

The lowered voice, accompanying a fleeting, faint laugh, made me feel for a moment that he didn’t seem to be the Xia Yan I was familiar with.

MC: …

It was probably because the Xia Yan today was too different from usual, so I kept thinking about these kinds of things. This kind of ambiguity and unclearness made me feel somewhat speechless. I casually took a glass of champagne from the tray he placed down, and turned around, no longer looking in his direction.

MC: If the task is done, then you should leave the event quick…

Security Guard: Hey, that waiter… yeah, you.

I hadn’t even finished speaking. I abruptly raised my head, then realized that the sound was being transmitted from the communication device.

Xia Yan: Hello, may I ask what you need?

Security Guard: Come with me. The host noticed that the waiter count doesn’t match. He’s going to do a check count now.

MC: !!!

The person asking should be the security guard… though Xia Yan was doing an investigation, he couldn’t be noticed. It seemed like they were in a place that was quite close to the corner – no other guests had noticed this issue.

MC: …

>Go there first, then decide >Think of a plan first

From a look, Xia Yan’s position wasn’t too far from me, and there was no time to hesitate. I immediately walked over towards his direction.

Though he was clearly within visible distance, I felt that he was incomparably far away right now. I wanted to be a bit faster, and was just planning to put down the wineglass getting in the way in my hand…

MC: Right! Wineglass…

MC: I’ve got a plan!

>Go there first, then decide >Think of a plan first

Hastily going over there would only expose myself – I have to think first of a plan to completely solve the dilemma in front of me. The communication device transmitted the sounds of Xia Yan dealing with the security guard, and I restrained my own emotions, telling myself nonstop to not rush over there and act.

Just then, a waiter holding up a drunk male guest walked past me, towards the main door.

MC: !!!

MC: I’ve got a plan!

After making up my mind, I drank down all the champagne in the glass, then put down the glass, speeding up my footsteps to walk in Xia Yan’s direction.

When I got near Xia Yan, I could already clearly see that the security guard seemed to be somewhat impatient, wanting to take him away by force.

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan clearly also noticed my appearance. Following along with his expression full of questions, I pretended to be on the verge of falling down, conveniently throwing myself at him.

Xia Yan: !!!

MC: I’m sorry… I seem to be a bit dizzy…

Security Guard: Is it a drunk guest…

Taking advantage of Xia Yan holding me up, I pressed my temple, secretly using my thumb to tap at the communication device.

Xia Yan: This lady, are you alright?

He immediately understood my meaning, showing the reaction of a typical waiter.

MC: I’m not drunk yet. Go get me another glass of champagne!

Security Guard: My apologies, I need this waiter right now for some important matters. Can I get another colleague to take care of you?

Though it was a sudden situation, the venue’s security guard kept calm in the face of the unexpected. But I couldn’t just easily compromise.

MC: I’m not drunk – I don’t need to be taken care of!

Security Guard: But…

MC: Uh… though it is a bit hot here…

MC: Whoa, this young gege is quite handsome – how about you accompany me outside for a breath of fresh air!

After saying this, I walked forward a few steps, pretending to stagger. Playing along very well, Xia Yan held me up from the front.

Security Guard: How about I find someone else…

MC: I only want him to accompany me!

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: I’m very worried about this guest – let me take care of her.

PART 5

Cocktail Party Venue

My severe manner, as if I wasn’t going to take any excuses, seemed to make the security guard waver. Thus, I persisted in my efforts, taking the opportunity to hold on tight to Xia Yan’s shoulders. Xia Yan also played along, holding me up, while not forgetting to continue defending himself to the security guard.

Xia Yan: I already explained earlier – I was temporarily hired because there weren’t enough people…

MC: Stop talking already, hurry and accompany me over there!

Finally, the security guard sighed and shook his head, had him leave his surname and ID number, then left. Seeing the security walk far off, I finally released a breath, but…

MC: Xia Yutian, rainy day…* can you be a little more serious the next time you make a fake name…

Xia Yan: I’m not skilled at all when coming up with names. How about you make one for me next time?

Xia Yan: Now that we talk about it, you came up with a way to help me so quickly – seriously, as expected of my most amazing partner.

MC: I already told you – since you’re done your task, then hurry and leave.

Xia Yan: Don’t worry – even if I really were taken away, I could’ve still solved that.

MC: Let’s not talk about this. We’ve got a good chance now – we can go out together and announce our great success…

I spoke while intending to let go of Xia Yan and walk forward, but I suddenly felt a rush of dizziness.

Xia Yan: Be careful!

Xia Yan: What’s wrong? Are you alright?

Holding my shoulders, he supported me upright, asking his questions with a face full of concern.

Xia Yan: Did you really get drunk? But I remember that your alcohol tolerance is usually pretty good…

MC: To hurry here and fake being drunk, I drank my alcohol in too much of a rush. Plus, when I was socializing, I also drank a few glasses of red wine. It’s easiest to get drunk from mixing drinks…

Though I’d originally only planned to fake being drunk, I didn’t think that I’d actually end up being somewhat dizzy.

MC: It’s no problem – I’ll be fine after taking a break here for a bit; you should hurry and go back.

Xia Yan: How could I leave you here alone…

MC: !!!

When I regained my senses, both my feet had already left the floor. My entire body was in Xia Yan’s arms.

Xia Yan: Alright, I know what you want to say. No need to try to be brave.

I’d forgotten to turn off the communication device, so Xia Yan’s voice was transmitted incomparably clearly from two directions, like he was speaking on both my sides simultaneously.

MC: Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: Don’t worry, just leave the rest to me.

His expression was serious for a moment. He pushed the right hand that was holding my waist upwards.

Xia Yan: How about you close your eyes? We’re quite close to the back door, so we can leave from there.

Though he said this, I couldn’t even control myself to move my gaze from his face no matter what I did, so closing my eyes was even more impossible. It was probably because Xia Yan always had a look like he was full of vigor, so I kept feeling like he was still that boy who played around noisily with me. Only now did I truly understand that he had already become so mature and reliable…

Xia Yan: You’re pretty light.

MC: …

I didn’t really understand this inexplicable throbbing in my heart. Just as I realized that I was on the verge of losing control, he slightly lowered his head, perfectly aligning with my gaze on him.

Xia Yan: You… oh, we’re almost there.

He seemed to also be somewhat embarrassed, promptly moving his gaze back to where it was before. I could only stiffly lean on his body, letting my heartbeat continue without control.

Outside the Hotel

After he placed me down outside the door, I originally wanted to get a taxi home.

Xia Yan: Sit here and wait for me for a bit – I’ll be back immediately!

Xia Yan look off his little vest, spreading it on the long bench beside the road.

MC: …?

Xia Yan: To be able to promptly leave after finishing my investigation, I placed my usual clothes in a locker near this place.

Xia Yan: It won’t be easy for you to hail a car while wearing these formal clothes, and you’re a little drunk… the wind is strong at night, so I’ll get a coat for you.

MC: It’s alright, my health is great – I won’t get a cold from breathing in these winds.

MC: Also, I’ll correct you once more – I’m! Not! Drunk!

Xia Yan: People who are drunk like to say that they’re not drunk the most. I’m going to go now to get the clothes – you absolutely must not secretly hail a car and head home.

Xia Yan: Plus… I really don’t feel at ease about you heading home on your own.

MC: Alright, then you have to hurry off and hurry back – I’m waiting for you.

Xia Yan’s back disappeared from my vision, but not long after, he returned, carrying that army-green coat of his. I put on his coat, seeming to be able to smell the faint scent of the detergent.

… It was Xia Yan’s scent. Realizing this, my cheeks started to heat up uncontrollably.

MC: …

Xia Yan: Why did your face become so red all of a sudden? Do you feel uncomfortable somewhere?

MC: I…

He looked at me with a face full of concern, then suddenly covered my forehead with his hand.

Xia Yan: It’s really hot… it must have been because of getting drunk and then getting blown at by the cold wind. I’ll send you to the hospital first!

For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

MC: You don’t need to send me to the hospital – I really am fine.

Xia Yan: Then I’ll send you back now – you must rest earlier tonight.

When we had gotten near my house, Xia Yan received another call. Looking at his expression, it seemed to be a very important matter. I urged him to hurry off and deal with his work, not letting him continue to send me home no matter what he said. With a face full of apologies and worry on his face, Xia Yan left, while I basically ran home like I was fleeing in the wilds.

TL note:

*This is so cute – the fake name that Xia Yan made for himself (夏雨田, Xia Yutian) sounds almost identical to the words for “rainy day” (下雨天, also xia yu tian).

PART 6

Two days later.

Coffee Shop

Xia Yan: Hey, [MC], over here!

It was him looking just like usual. A head full of messy brown hair, carrying all sorts of detective gear all over the place, and his incomparably brilliant smile. Maybe it was because the difference between how he was last time and his usual was so large, so I inexplicably felt that I hadn’t seen him in a long while.

Xia Yan: How’s it been? Have you been busy at work these two days?

MC: Not busy, plus Big Sister Zhai Xing’s mood has been particularly good – she let us know that we don’t have to work overtime next week.

Xia Yan: Then… can I arrange to go out with you on the weekend?

MC: Of course. What’s up, is there another interesting commission?

Xia Yan: Eh, now that you bring it up, when you head out by yourself in the future, you definitely have to pay attention to your safety.

Xia Yan: Especially events like those cocktail parties – you absolutely must not get drunk again.

Xia Yan: Plus, the cocktail party’s security guards are way too unreliable, just randomly handing off a guest to someone whose identity they haven’t even confirmed…

MC: … But that person whose identity wasn’t confirmed was you.

Xia Yan: Good thing it was me this time. Protect yourself well – safety is number one.

MC: I know, I’m not a little kid…

MC: Ah, I almost forgot.

I took out the earring with the installed communication device from my purse. Just by looking at it, the events at the cocktail party that day incessantly popped up in my head.

MC: I kept wanting to find a chance to return this to you. I also didn’t take it off because I was afraid of breaking it.

Xia Yan: Oh, this.

Smiling, he took it, pressed on the communication device on the back of the earring, then handed it back to me.

Xia Yan: I’ve turned off the communication device. If you want to turn it on again, you just need to press on it.

MC: Wait… if it was only turned off today, could you have heard everything I said these past two days?!

Xia Yan didn’t hear any kind of weird sleep talk, right…

Xia Yan: I’ve long predicted for this kind of situation. I installed a little program for it to automatically enter sleep mode.

Xia Yan: I promise that the user’s privacy will not be betrayed.

MC: That’s good…

Xia Yan: You can find me if you want to change to another earring. I can also teach you the installation method for free!

Xia Yan: Plus… this was prepared for you anyways.

MC: Eh?

Xia Yan: I, I’m saying that I custom-made it into a rose shape because I wanted to give it to you…

Xia Yan: Didn’t think I would be helped by you again because of it…

MC: …

Xia Yan: In the future, if you encounter danger or if you need help, you can immediately ask for help from me with that!

Xia Yan: Though I don’t hope that you’ll use it because of these things… but as long as you need me, I will definitely rush to your side immediately.

Xia Yan’s expression suddenly became serious, making me feel like I didn’t know how to respond for a moment.

MC: I’m guessing that I won’t use it very much normally, but I’ll still be your assistant in the future!

Xia Yan: Ah, does this mean you’re willing to accept it?

MC: That’s for sure – it’s very beautiful, and I like it a lot. Plus, it comes with a great detective that will come when called – it’s like wearing an amulet!

Xia Yan: Haha, that’s exactly what I want you to think!

Xia Yan: After all, I gave it to you. Maybe it’ll also bring you good luck.

The sunset outside the window covered his side profile in fragments of light. In a trance, I superimposed him with his figure under the lights at the cocktail party that day. He really was different from when he was young, but, just like in the past, he was trustworthy.

Xia Yan: [MC], why have you been staring at me the whole time? Do I have something on my face?

MC: I-it’s nothing. How about we first discuss where to go this weekend?

Xia Yan: Okay, I’ve got a bunch of places I want to take you to, and I finally have the chance to…

I hurriedly drank a mouthful of coffee. His smiling expression mixed with the aroma of coffee, warmly filling the depths of my heart.

… exactly how long will it be until I can stop thinking about what happened at the cocktail party so often?

-END-

PHONECALL

You finally picked up...! [drops bread]

Huh? It’s too late now and I don’t have anything else at home - there’s just a slice of bread left. Don’t worry, I’ll go to the supermarket tomorrow, and I eat well typically.

I didn’t get any messages from you, so I called to confirm if you’ve gotten home safely.

I didn’t think that you’d appear today. If I knew earlier, I would’ve changed what I dressed up as, and maybe I could’ve invited you for a dance.

I-it suits me a lot? That waiter outfit? It’s just alright--

Hey, how could being a waiter suit me better! I’m clearly...

I should earnestly match what I wear, be more refined, and occasionally change up my style...

What do you think about that?

Alright, I won’t joke with you anymore. Rest early!

Goodnight!

TL Note:

I’m so inconsistent when it comes to translating “gege”s and “jiejie”s (meaning big brother and big sister respectively, though it’s not necessarily used just between family members). It just didn’t sound right when I translated the “gege” into “brother” for this story, so I just left them like this.

Wondering what the second of the “interesting things” that Xia Yan mentioned at the beginning. Maybe there will be a date story that comes right after this?

#tot translation #tears of themis #weiding shijian bu #未定事件簿 #xia yan #夏彦

18 notes · View notes

elencelebrindal · 4 years ago

Note

Alright, can you rank which modern Golds are often portrayed closest to their canon parts in fan fiction and which are practically fanon (even if we love it).

I sure can! Keep in mind this is my personal experience, so people might have read different stuff than me. If you see something you feel like it’s wrong, it’s probably because we have different sources. I mostly rely on English and Italian fan fiction. I started reading something in Spanish and Portuguese, but my understanding of the language is not smooth.

I’m going to use a scale from 1 (least accurate) to 10 (most accurate), and then write my explanation.

Mu 5/10 He’s mostly depicted as calm, collected and gentle in any situation, with no regards toward his actual somewhat “aggressive” nature in combat. Mu is not Shun, he’s not that diplomatic and he’s not that kind with everyone. Though, I’ve seen a fair share of works in which Mu is considered a gentle man with a tough attitude, so it’s fine.

Aldebaran 10/10 As far as I know, Aldebaran is very well depicted in the works he appears in. It might be because there’s already not that much information to use for him, because unfortunately Aldebaran doesn’t get the same amount of attention of other characters, but his personality is almost always spot on and even when it’s not, it’s still compatible with his canon version.

Saga 4/10 I read too much stuff of pre-Ares Saga that completely ignores the fact he was really gentle and kind. Most people use his aggressive and demanding personality when it’s not the case to do so, especially if he’s written as part of the pairing Aiolos x Saga. And then, the works that depict him after the entire ordeal with Ares still have him as somewhat evil and ready to betray. I know the Hades Chapter has a good influence on that, but Saga himself is not evil. Some authors, though, handle this character really well, so he still gets his justice.

Kanon 7/10 While he gets a lot better treatment than Saga, I still come across works with him as the Gemini Saint still depicted as inherently malevolent, in some ways. I love what people do with him as the Sea Dragon, it’s almost always perfect how they capture this character, but there are some hiccups here and there with his Gemini self.

Deathmask 10/10 Deathmask is a character that can change depending on what major source it’s used to describe him, but I’ve never seen (aside from ooc representations) wrong depiction of him. People are really amazing at describing him as a heartless bastard (thus using the classic as inspiration) or as a man that has evolved and got his redemption (thus using Hades and/or Soul of Gold as inspiration). To this day I’ve never really seen his canon self being distorted.

Aiolia 8/10 He is amazingly close to the canon counterpart in fan fiction, but sometimes people tend to focus too much on the fact that he has to be brave and strong all the time. We had Aiolia prey of his own emotions in canon, so why going this heavy-handed only on one side of his personality? Rarely I’ve seen Aiolia described in his worst, like when he was grieving and angry. A couple works I’ve read perfectly summed up Aiolia using the entirety of his emotion range, and it was one of the best representations I’ve seen of him.

Shaka 9/10 I feel like people actually got what Shaka’s character is. Sometimes there’s something that goes too far into the fanon side of the things, but it’s not that prominent in the community so I’ll let it slide more than I’d normally do. I like that people take into account his emotions without using them too much, and I like that people never forget how powerful he is or how messed up his early life was. The only thing I don’t like is how easily some authors make him get close to another person, with no second guesses or thinking, because canon Shaka is not that close to his companions. I made that mistake myself, after all, so I count in the list of those people. Most of the times I’m only disappointed when it’s clearly an ooc situation, and those don’t count because it’s intentional.

Dohko 10/10 He’s pretty spot on, if you ask me. Dohko is relatively easy to get right, because he has a good balance (ironically) of irony and wise thinking, sprinkled with a good old-fashioned fighting spirit. I’ve never seen a fan work mess this up. Dohko is probablt the most “human” fictional character I’ve seen, because he acts a lot like a real life person (paranormal stuff notwithstanding), and I think that’s something really helpful in writing him.

Milo 5/10 Milo is either a hit or a miss in fan fiction. I see so many people focusing on the wrong stuff when tackling him, like only caring about the “sexiness factor” or making him a mischievous trouble-maker. Milo is a complex character, with a proud nature and a loyal attitude towards Athena and his companions, and this side of his personality is almost never showed. It’s always him being a goofy man with an inclination for disaster, and not enough about him being an actual competent Saint with more than his looks. I read a whole lot of stuff with him, and I was pleased in a good number of works, but at the same time I was disappointed in seeing how many people don’t actually care about how Milo is presented in canon.

Aiolos ?/10 I don’t know. Honestly, I didn’t read enough about him, and I’m conflicted. Some people depict him as an overall perfect character, others like to make him more human, and a few just have fun using Aiolos without giving him a proper personality. Though, I haven’t seen anything that made me go “no, this is wrong”, so I guess it’s a good thing. Aiolos is one of those characters that really depends on what specific vision people have of him, since canon works don’t help as much in pinpointing a set behavior.

Shura 8/10 Aside from those works that love to put him as a helpless participant of the chain of events, he’s very well depicted. Faithful? Yeah. A bit crazy? Also yeah. I don’t like when he’s described as someone who refuses to take responsibility for his actions, because I’ve seen very bad works with him as a Saint that was forced to follow Ares so “killing was an order and nothing else”. I like when people give him awareness of his own actions, because it’s something that actually appears in canon (and most notably in Soul of Gold).

Camus 5/10 Too many times I’ve seen him depicted as a traitor that loves to betray anything and anyone for his own amusement, and too many times people threw away the kindness hidden under the ice. This particular side of his personality only shows up in fan fiction that depict him with Milo, and in works where he’s with Hyoga as a child. Most of the time, aside from these examples, he’s always cold and heartless, or lacks personality. I might have been unlucky with what I found, but this is my experience.

Aphrodite 1/10 Please. Aphrodite is one of the Saints that gets the worst of everything. People love so much giving him a narcissistic and self-centered view that they forget how, on the contrary, Aphrodite is not like that. I mentioned this in one of my earliest posts, but it’s easy to guess why: because he’s feminine, because he wears makeup, and because he comes off with a somewhat sensual vibe, Aphrodite is often depicted as this inherently androgynous man with a deep care for beauty. Guys, that’s not him. That’s Misty. Misty is narcissistic and fixated with his beauty, Misty hates getting blood on himself. Aphrodite thinks power is beauty, not the opposite. He doesn’t care about spilling blood on himself. He’s cruel and he’s merciless, and he willingly betrayed Athena, willingly killed Shun’s master like nothing. Stop depicting him as this weak Saint that cannot stand an insult or a stain on his clothes. I almost never see a good depiction of him. His canon personality almost never shows up in fiction.

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #los caballeros del zodiaco #os cavaleiros do zodiaco #knights of the zodiac #gold saints

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