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nightwriter357 · 9 months ago

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Matching halloween costumes

Damien Haas x reader

The smosh cast are out clubbing for halloween and Damien walks in wearing a costume that compliments yours.

I know the masked man is a wierd add-on, he's a real-life insert that I just had to include, as is most of this story. I also tried writing some of the parts in my native language and then translating, hope it works okay, let me know.

VERY, very Smuty(18+)

The nightclub pulsed with Halloween energy, lights flickering over a crowd adorned in elaborate costumes. You dressed as Karlach from Baldur's Gate 3 with red body paint, a broken horn and her signature black leather outfit complete with golden rings and studs all over. Courtney was dancing next to you, stunning as Princess Peach, twirled with Shayne, who embodied Mario's spirit.

You notice a masked figure observing you from the edge of the dance floor, his costume shrouded in mystery. It wasn't too weird, though—it's Halloween, after all. You continued dancing but couldn't help observing this strange man staring at you, following you around the room as you kept up with your friend. As you were dancing he moved closer, trying to cut in. Shayne noticed and danced around him in a circle yelling, " let's a-go," until the masked man left.

You laughed, mouthing "thank you to Shayne"

"No problem" he answered, still dancing.

You walked to the bar to order a shot, you threw it down quickly. You were already feeling a bit tipsy, you had been here for a while but some of the cast hadn't arrived yet. The masked man started walking towards you.

"Hey," his voice muffled behind the mask. "I'm Walter, Can I get your number?"

You, eager to end the encounter, rattled off a fake number. "Sure, it's *******," you replied hastily, hoping he'd leave.

He just stood there, you watched him questioning, until you relised you could just leave. Unnerved, you slipped outside for fresh air, relief washing over you as you leaned against a cool wall. As you let out a deep breath, you could se Spencer and Damien arriving. You were filled with an overwhelming amount of joy as you ran towards them. You placed a peck on Spencers lips.

"Well, hello to you too," Spencer exclaimed, a bit shocked about your friendliness.

You moved over to Damien, expecting to give him a quick peck as well. When your lips met you felt a shock of electricity shooting through your body. The kiss lingered, he parted your lips with his own before pushing his tongue into your mouth. The chemistry sparked, Damien's hands explored your back before resting on your waist and pulling you in closer.

Spencer coughed, "Hello?!?"

You and Damien pulled apart, staring at eachother for a moment before snapping out of it. You looked over to Spencer. Now definitely feeling a bit drunk, that must have been the liquid curage. "Ehm, Hello, nice to meet you", you said before squinting your eyes at what just came out of you mouth.

Spencer grinned, "Yeah, It was very nice when it happened a couple of years ago", He was dressed as Margo Robbies Barbie, matching some of the girls that were here, it made sense. You realized you hadn't looked at Damien fully yet and turned to him.

Damien smirked, his eyes alight with playful banter, captivating as Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3. His silver hair and pale skin made it a perfect match. Oh shit, we match. Spencer practicly forced you and Damien out on the dancfloor.

Damien leaned over and whispered, "That's one hell of a greeting, darling".

You chuckled, feeling a warmth beyond the drinks. "Couldn't resist," you admitted.

Inside, the music throbbed louder, Spencer found his way to the other. You and Damien found your own place on the dance floor. Your movements flirtatious and the looks you gave eachother were telling. Damien leaned in, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine interest. "You know, I romanced Karlach when I played Baldur's Gate 3. She's quite the badass."

You grinned mischievously, "Oh yes, I am. To bad I'm so hot we can't touch, you raised an eyebrow at him.

He let out a small laugh, "Oh I wouldn't know, I played the PG13 version on stream".

" I romanced Astarion,"you said as you turned around to go to the bar "But it was very much not PG13"

Meanwhile, Courtney and Shayne searched for you as you had planned on leaving together, joined by Angela, Chucky. The masked man, Walter, approached them.

"You guys are friends with y/n, right" he asked, behind the mask.

Courtney looked puzzled, "ehm.. yeah? why have you seen her?"

"That's the thing, I havn't been able to reach her, should I try her again?" he held up his phone.

Shayne chimed in, "Sure, we kind of need to find her."

As you ordered another drink keeping a look out for the masked man, Walter. You hadn't seen him in a while, and somehow that was creeping you out more than when you knew he was staring at you. You went back up to Damien

Damien pulled you closer, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just some weirdo," You reassured, leaning into him gratefully.

He put his hands on your hip.

You smiled and looked up at him, "Can I kiss you again?"

He leaned in to kiss you. His tongue was back in your mouth, massaging you own with slow motions.

You put your hand on his chest, feeling the drawstrings holding his shirt together. "Since I met you, all I wanted to do was touch you. Now that I can, I never want to let you go.

He gasped, " Y/n, I.. I feel the same way.

You looked deeply into his eyes, "I hope you know that I'm yours. Completeley. And I'd like you to touch me now.

His eyes widened, "I thought you'd never ask.

He kissed you again, letting his hands roam all over your body, smearing the red body paint all over you and himself. It was kind of fitting for his costume though, Flecks of red all across his face and on his lips, as well as his hands. The moment felt so intimate, even though you were sorrounded by people on the dance floor. His hands found their way under your top, his finger squeezing your nipple as you moaned into his neck. You started kissing his neck, biting, anything to keep from screaming.

You put your lips against his ear, "more".

His hands moved down over you body. Finally touching your pussy through your pants.

"Oh yes, Damien please," you whispered before disapearing into his neck once more.

He held you close as he started rubing his fingers on your clit, Even though there was a barrier between you and Damiens fingers, the friction was enough to make your knees go weak. Damien used his other arm to hold you up as his fingers played with you, tracing along your entrance. You felt your eyes flutter and your body started to tingle.

"Damien, you're going to make me cum" you whimpered.

His breath was hot against your ear, "Cum for me, Cum on my fingers"

You held on to him, pushing against his hand, leaving sloppy kisses on his neck as you rode out your orgasm on the dance floor. You breathed heavily looking at him, his eyes were dark.

"Bathroom?"

"Bathroom!"

You stepped out from the dancefloor, finding Courtney waiting anxiously.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere. That guy Walter's been trying to call you."

You waved dismissively. "Don't worry, I gave him a fake number."

Your phone rang then, It was her mother calling, wgy would she be calling now?. Puzzled, she answered, "Mom?"

"Who the fuck is Walter?" your mother demanded.

Realization hit Y/N, and she burst out laughing. "Oh my God, I accidentally gave him your number!"

Courtney laughed with her. "Classic Y/N."

Damien joined them, wrapping an arm around you. "What's so funny?"

You grinned up at him. "I gave that creep my mom's number instead of a fake one."

Damien chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, that's one way to handle it?"

"Are you ready to go?" Courtney interrupted.

You looked at Damien, "Nah, you guys go ahead I think, I'll stay"

As the other guys left, Damien grabbed your hand and led you to the bathroom. As the door to the stall closed you fell into eachothers arms again. You pushed his up against the wall, letting you fingers run over his chest before attacking his neck with your mouth. As you pulled back you noticed that his expression had changed, it was hungrier, needier.

You stand in front of Damien and smile for a second. He locks the door behind him and catches you in his arms. You kiss each other, finally it's just the two of you. He presses you against the door and and uses one hand to hold your arms above your head. With the other hand, he traces over your body, past your breasts, over your waist, and down towards your thigh.

You moan out for him, "Damien please, nobody's here, you can do whatever you want to me."

He dosen't respond, instead his fingers change direction, over your thigh, teasingly close to your groin, up over your stomach before his hand stops at your chest. He leaves your lips and kisses your neck instead, sucking and biting, while slowly squeezing your breast. He releases your wrists and begins to massage the other breast as well. After a while, he moves his hand to remove your top.

"Please fuck me, Damien," you gasp.

For a second, he hesitates; he could have you completely naked in front of him in a second. Without a thread on your body in a crampt stall in some club bathroom. No one outside knows what's going on. No one would know that while they're out there on the dance floor, he has his fingers inside you while you moan his name loudly in pleasure. Some of the cast was probably still here though, sat at a table, wondering where you had gone while he has his tongue in you. It's too much.

"Spread your legs," he says , and you obey. "Wider."

You move your legs further apart. Damien traces the inside of your thighs with his fingers while looking deeply into your eyes. Your mouth is half-open, and you breathing heavily again. You indress, getting ready to finally feel him inside of you. Damiens other hand strokes your cheek before he pushes two of his fingers into your mouth and let's you eagerly suck on them. When he takes them out, they're soaked with your spit

"Good girl," he says proudly.

"Damien, I want you so bad"

Quickly, he rippes your panties of and slides the wet fingers into you presses against your crotch. His fingers are cold, making you gasp. He teasingly pulls on toys with your clit and roles you in netween his fingers. Your arms move down to get under his shirt, to finally feel his skin against yours while he slowly plays with you. His body, unlike his fingers, is feverishly warm, and he quickly pull the shirt up over his head.

"You're so fucking wet," he mutters into your ear and kisses you.

He takes hold of your waist and presses you against the door again. You wrap one leg around his waist and your fingers dig into his back, deep. Your longing turnning into pure desperation as you kiss each other again.

"Stay there," Damien says, putting you back on your feet, still pressed against the door.

He get's on his knees, leans forward and parts your folds with his tongue, you moan out loudly. He starts slow and presses his tongue against you and slowly moves his tongue up and down your entrance. When he finally moves across your clitoris, your body twists in pleasure. Damein starts to suck and kiss and lick, he's compleatly lost in you. He digs his fingers into your thighs as he presses them apart to gain more acess. It almost hurts, but that pain cannot be compared to the excitement you feel. Greedily, he licks you up and down, letting his tongue trace the folds between the lips and before he sucks you into his mouth again. You dig your fingers into his silver hair and press his mouth against you, harder. You can feel his groaning against you, making you hump your sore wet pussy against Damiens mouth as you feel another orgasm comming.

"Don't stop," you say, pressing his head against your needy pussy "Keep licking me, please, Please continue, I'm gonna cum for you again, Damien."

"I love making you feel good, baby"

While Damien continues to lick and suck, he released his grip on your thigh and slowly inserted a finger into you. He starts thrusting the finger into you, and you moan in rhythm. His mouth leaves your pussy, and he stands up to search for your mouth. Damiens lips are wet from your juices. Your tongue meets his, and you can taste yourself in his kisses. You lock your hands behind his neck and pull him closer to kiss him deeper, all while he continues to move his fingers in and out of you. You moan into his mouth, you're getting close again. Damiens feels you moaning faster in his mouth, slows down his fingers and pulls his lips away from yours.

You let your eyes rest on his, "I love the way you touch me, Damien you're driving me wild"

He looked into your eyes, his breath syncing with the now, slow rhythm of his fingers. Your hands slid from his neck and found themselves on his cheeks. You pulled him closer and softly kissed his upper lip. You put your hand on his thigh, he still had his pants on, you move yourself closer to s his erection pressing yourself against his clothed crotch. He loses concentration on your kisses when you start caressing Damien's hard cock outside the fabric. You slide down to the floor in front of him, looking up at him as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down to the floor. You touch his hard cock through his underwear.

The anticipation of what's to come makes Damien groan, " You're so fucking perfect. I can't believe you're mine"

Your fingers trace the edge of his underwear before you pull them down too. His cock stands inches from your lips, and you look at it longingly. It's big and rock hard for you. You want to swallow him immediately, but you stop yourself, starting out with placing soft kisses on his shaft. Damien exhales satisfactorily as you push your hair away from your face, collecting it into a ponytail and making him hold it. Your tongue finds its way up his cock but stops just before the tip. You continue to tease him with your tongue and lips, tracing from root to tip without ever letting you tongue tast it. It drives him mad, you can feel his hand tighening around your hair. Then you you start to softly and slowly kiss his tip, giving him something but not everything he wants.

"Fuck y/n, your so fucking hot with my cock on your tongue," his eyes are glued to you.

You tilt your head slightly back so Damien can see your tongue moving over his shiny tip. Your hand closes around his cock, and you start to jerk him off slowly. The feeling of him in your hand is to much, he slowly pushes into your mouth. You take all of him into your mouth, closing your lips around him. Damiens cock feels warm and smooth in your mouth.

"Fuck," he exhales, closing his eyes in enjoyment. Your moans become muffled with your mouth filled with Damiens cock. "So fucking beautiful with my cock down your throat"

You look up at him and let his cock slide out of your mouth. "Mm, I love your cock, Damien," you say, filling your mouth with spit and releasing it over his tip.

You massage your saliva in with slow strokes before putting your lips against his tip again. You grab at him and letting him know that you want him to fuck your mouth. He starts slowly, moving while you keep your head still and only move your tongue around his cock, as it's going in and out of your mouth. You can tell Damien loves watching his cock disappear into your mouth and then reappear. The excitement seems to overwhelm him, as he looks away for a second.

Damien guides you back onto your feet and, in a quick, smooth movement, spins you around and pushes you foward facing the door again. You put your hands against it and turn your head back towards him. He looks at you with dark hungry eyes but dosen't move.

You push yourself against him, "please, Damien"

"Your body drives me fucking crazy, you're everything I've ever wanted, so fucking tight around me "

You begin to whimper with impatience as Damien takes his time taking in this sight. His hand strokes up your back before grabbing your waist. With one hand around his cock, Damien searches for your wet pussy. He drags it along your slit before slowly but inserting the tip into you. Your impatience grows, and you press your body back to make him slide further into you. You moan and start breathing heavily and loudly. Damien lets you press your body closer to his, his cock going deeper inside you, and he loves the feeling of you so tight around him. You start fucking yourself on him as he just stands there, taking in the view.

"Please Damien, fuck me" you scream in frustration. All thoughts of the people outside disappear; the only thing that matters is Damien inside you.

He smiles and exhales through his nose.

"Do you want me to fuck you, y/n?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, feeling like you might lose your mind if he doesn't do it soon.

"Like this?" he asks, slaming his cock into you in one motion.

Damien worries he's hurt you until you moan loudly with pleasure. You lose control and moan louder than ever before. Damien leaves you only to thrust back into you again. He continues with deep, hard thrusts that gradually increase in speed, synchronized with your breathing.

"Oh my god, you feel so good inside me," your body slammed against the door. "Harder, Damien please, I want to feel all of you.

With his hands on your waist, guiding you, his cock gets even deeper inside of you. He keeps fucking you with deep, powerful strokes.

"I'm cuming, Damien," you manage to say between moans and as he moves even faster inside of you.

Eventually, you feel the warmth spread from your pussy, down your legs, on his cock. You scream out in pleasure but Damien doesn't slow down his movements. As he feels your pussy clench around his cock, it sends him over the edge too. You feel him start to pump his release into you and groan loudly. He collapses against you, and arch your back to lean your head against his shoulder. You stand there like that, still with him still inside you. You wait until your breathing returns to normal. You look at each other and smile broadly. His white shirt was pink from being covered by the paint that used to cover your body.

As you step out of the stall, you're greeted by a security guard. He raises an eyebrow at you, obviously fully aware of what you were doing.

"We're already closed you know" He said, eyeing you both.

You excuse yourself and start to leave

"Hey, are you Y/N, by the way?" the security guard asks.

You nod, still catching your breath from the intense encounter.

"Some guy in a mask named Walter was looking for you," he informs you with a smirk.

You and Damien exchange amused glances.

"Well, Walter's just going to have to wait," Damien quips, pulling you closer to him.

"Yeah, tell him to call me" you add with a playful wink.

As you both head out of the club, leaving the security guard shaking his head, you can't help but laugh together at the unexpected turn of events. The club is compleatly empy, it looks like it's been close for a while. When you get outside the city looks dead, not a cab in sight.

"You wanna join me for a walk home?" He smiled at you.

"I could go for, a walk."

#damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh games #fanfic #smut

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worldheadcanons · 2 months ago

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☆ come on barbie, let’s go party!

requested by @chocolatecat777! feminine, raquelle!reader. starring . . . classic barbie, nyo!america. fandom masterlist found here. 🇺🇸 . . . author notes: i’m in love with this concept!!! expect barbie!reader sometime between v-day requests & other personal projects. and, if this is well received, i’ll expand on the dynamic some more :) might even explore other characters (like, imagine nyo italy as artist barbie!). feel free to pitch ideas!

amelia jones!

— “hey! you’re coming to my party tonight, right?” amelia asked, her smile as big and bright as it always was. she wasstereotypical barbie, so it only made sense that her cheeks were so rosy and her teeth were so white. still, you absolutely hated it. everything about her made your stomach churn with this… indescribable feeling. it was the same sort of tension you felt when you laughed too hard, but combined with a nauseating jittery feeling. it happened whenever you saw amelia and it disgusted you. she disgusted you. oh, how you despised her.

— you lowered your shades, looking at her over the lenses. she caught you while you were shopping for a new pair of shoes (curse your need for purple wedges!). “as if,” you scoffed, “who wants to go to your boring party, amelia?” you thought that would show her. you thought it would at least make her frown.

— you were wrong! she merely chuckled, taking hold of your right hand. “well, i’d love to see you there.” the blonde gave your hand a good squeeze. with her lips still curled into a smile, she moved her blue eyes to meet yours. “promise me you’ll think about it?”

— you were almost certain she’d done some sort of pink and glittery witchcraft to make her eyes shine so bright. a manipulation spell perhaps.. maybe you should research it for yourself, finally steal away that boyfriend of hers. well, they weren’t really dating, but they were close! anyways, you would’ve planned it out, but it’s really hard to think with her enchanted eyes staring, making your skin flush. you rolled your eyes, breaking eye contact. “…i’ll think about it.”

— and that’s how you found yourself here. amelia’s dreamhouse is huge, far bigger than your own. and her friends? allpretty. the music is up loud, bass booming in a manner that begs to be danced to. you’re above all that bumping and grinding, however, hanging around the outskirts of the party with a small red solo cup in your hand full of soda. you watch all the other party goers dance, arms partially crossed. you just have class, that’s all. besides, you’d be so mad if someone spilled a drink on the outfit you specifically curated to make amelia jealous. and take her almost-boyfriend of course.

— studded flare jeans that hug the curve of your hips, a purple spaghetti strap camisole top, a cute jean jacket, and new purple wedges. that’s what the blonde took in as she walked over, looking you up and down. “i’m glad you could make it — you look really pretty,” she says, beaming. of course, she’s decked out in pink. her almost-boyfriend trails behind her, waving hi.

— “i know,” you reply simply, leaning over to eye her almost-boyfriend. you wave back, winking.

— she scoots to the side, blocking your view after catching you winking. “you haven’t been dancing,” she points out, “any reason for that?”

— “i don’t have anyone to dance with,” you excuse yourself, one hand on your hip. “no one’s met my standards yet.” you finish your drink, setting your empty cup down on the floor. sure, you’re littering, but you’re littering on amelia’s patio so you don’t really feel bad.

— “what about me?” she offers. when you raise your eyebrow, confused, she merely takes your hands and leads you to the floor. she’s surprisingly strong… or maybe you were just caught off guard and your legs followed hers out of shock. “you look really good tonight,” she repeats, holding you by the hips. she sways to the music, no longer beaming but seeming more hesitant. observing.

— “i already said i know. thanks,” you mutter, huffing. you held your arms crossed for a minute before resigning to do a little dancing. this seems to please her well enough, as she stops holding you close to her and gives you some freedom to move.

— “i only mean that,” she begins before shaking her head. she looks up at you with a smile. “it’s nothing.” for a few moments, the music is all you can hear. it switches to something more sensual, though still fast paced. just amelia’s style, you suppose. the thought makes you scrunch up your nose. she’s ridiculous. you barely notice her raising one of your hands up in the air with hers. as the beat goes on, she turns her back to you and begins rolling her hips, grooving to the beat. it’s not technically dirty but… you can’t move your eyes off her ass….

— “what are you doing?” you ask, interlacing your fingers with her. force of habit, surely.

— “dancing,” she replies, looking over her shoulder at you. “do you want me to stop?”

— your face grows red as her blue eyes bore into yours. fucking pink witch. “no,” you mutter, squeezing her hand. “go on, dance.” with your permission, she keeps on going. her hips rock, her hair bounces, her ass jiggles — you’re not sure why you notice that last thing — she’s having a good time. you smile just a little, swaying your body along with her. unbeknownst to everyone, even you… you were having a pretty good time too. you’d definitely be coming to her next party.

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia headcanons #hetalia x you #hws #hws america #america x reader #hws nyo america #nyo america #nyo america x reader #nyotalia #nyotalia x reader #amelia f jones #amelia x reader #amelia f jones x reader #hetalia barbie au #barbie au #hetalia author

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yunarim · 2 years ago

Note

So I've been listening to a lot of Swan Lake lately (and I've recently been listening to the Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses theme on loop for the past half an hour) and this got me thinking.

What about the Pomefiore trio and a female ballerina!reader who was an accomplished ballerina back in her world?

Maybe they see her dancing in an empty classroom and then get shown recordings of her performances on her phone (that was transported with her) and they are just spellbound at the elegance of her dancing.

Thank you.

── ⋅⋅⋅ FEEL MY RHYTHM | follow the song and dance in the moonlight

♩ ⁺✧ fem!reader (she/her), ballerina!reader | vil schoenheit, rook hunt, epel felmier note — aahhh sorry for taking so long ;; i hope it's okay and you enjoyed the fic!

VIL SCHOENHEIT sighs in disappointment when another student who tries passing a casting for a new project he assigned fails miserably. Rook beside him claps, blooming with ‘beauté!!’ nevertheless, while Epel who got dragged along sends mental signals to the failed student to cheer up.

Vil thinks it’s easier to rewrite the whole plot of the play he’s preparing for the theatre club’s project or maybe make Rook or Epel learn ballet in a span of two months. He dismisses the casting and claims he needs some fresh air because it gets almost unbearable.

It’s not like club members or just anyone in school needs to know how to dance ballet. It’s not like people who tried (and failed) are bad dancers either, they just lack the elegance and the right mood needed for the story. Vil sighs, stepping out of the building.

A light, gentle music plays somewhere. Vil heads out towards the sweet sound and hears someone counting beats. How curious, why would such majestic music play out of nowhere? Moreover, beats counting?

He then sees you. The shoes you usually wear are left all forgotten near the tree right next to your other belongings. Your gaze is full of concentration just for one mere moment before the look in your eyes changes drastically, a dreamy fleur blossoms instead. Vil’s breath hitches when he sees pointe shoes on your feet. Your legs are steady yet don’t lack spring ability, your every step is filled with grace and make your figure seem light and almost doll-like. The way you raise your hands, even no unnecessary angles in your finger joints, how your eyelashes flatter under the setting sun — you’re flawless.

He watches you performing till the very end, you don’t even need music to express what the dance was supposed to be about — your every movement is filled with emotion. You blink your concentration and turn to Vil, finally noticing him. He explains to you there’s a project he’s arranging and whether or not you’re interested in taking part in. You accept his offer.

Vil returns to the Pomefiore ballroom in a brilliant mood, surprising Rook and Epel and claiming he found a real gem. The next day you send him videos of your previous theatre plays you did back in your world, and he can’t help but save them all.

When you finally perform on stage again, you feel alive and happy. Vil watches you backstage after playing his part, and tries to remain professional when Rook points out it’s his turn again and he needs to join you on the stage, because he gets bewitched by your dance every time he sees it. Suggests you to continue your career in Twisted Wonderland and even says he would be happy to design outfits for your plays. Smirks proudly when hears students discussing your dance with ‘Did you know that Prefect is a ballerina?!’, ‘Sevens, I never knew she’s that elegant!’ and such.

It is no wonder ROOK HUNT is interested in Art (capital letter is essential). His aesthetic appreciation scale was suffering a deficiency in something extraordinary, novel and totally unique, a 100% of pure Beauté in all its might.

It is nice — to be able to sneak out from the campus to go on something people would call a stroll, but it is nothing else than an observational journey for Rook. Seeing city lights creating a certain atmosphere when entering a live theatre is magnificent and genuinely romantic.

Rook’s smile is plastered on his face when he’s watching young people play, giving their everything, but something still tells Rook it’s not enough for him to return back home yet. The play ends, Rook congratulates actors by giving them splendid bouquets and goes outside. It’s strange — the stars are already glowing in a gorgeous magnificent night sky, but he almost feels with his own skin that somewhere nearby something’s radiating a warm light.

Indeed, he finds its source. A small park near the theatre is lightened up a bit, a flashlight’s ray in a fixed position. Rook chuckles, deciding to observe the place a little more, and then he gasps.

It’s you. How very interesting—what would you do in such a place outside of the campus late at night? A flashlight serving as a spotlight, and… Ah, what beautiful pointe shoes you’re wearing! Your lips let out a small exhale before you straighten up and take a position; a tender melody heard ever so slightly in the earphones you wear.

You perform a bewitching pirouette, absence of heaviness in your tiptoes. You seem to soar like a graceful feather, and even despite the clothes not intended for ballet (except for pointe shoes), you demonstrate impressive marvels of refined technique and skill. Rook knows what it takes to dance so gracefully like you do. It’s not just the ingenuity you’ve certainly got, but also passion. It’s not the dance you perform, it’s life in all its finesse and sincerity. Rook doesn’t need a grand music to understand what you're saying through the little performance, he feels it.

When the song ends, you change the pointe shoes you were wearing into your normal ones, and smile.

“Mon cygne, could you please allow me to appreciate your gracefulness?”

You jolt, but giggle the second Rook takes your hand in his and presses a weightless kiss on your palm.

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I wanted to try applying in the theatre nearby but I haven’t practiced for a while…”

You then show him your previous performances back in your world, and he’s completely spellbound by your allure. Worry not, you’ll definitely get the role you want, and who knows, maybe an extremely loyal admirer as well?

Let’s be real, EPEL FELMIER hates Vil the second the dorm leader assigns him with a certain oh-so-important-task. Epel survived a strict diet (which was actually quite healthy but oh come on, Epel wanted those new chips which appeared in Sam’s shop so bad), but dancing? Hello?? He’s in a Magift club?? No?? Okay.

Epel’s furious. He doesn’t want to take extra dancing classes. Moreover huh, ballet out of dances! Breakdance sounds quite cool, why not that? Isn’t like, all dances are nice and all about technique and things? Epel sighs in frustration while heading out to the Pomefiore ballroom. He has no idea how in the world he would practice. Vil stated he should start by watching videos he sent, but what was with the smirk on the dorm leader’s face when Epel said he can watch videos in his room or literally anywhere else?

“Stupid Vil,” Epel claims and doesn’t even notice music playing quietly in the ballroom he’s about to enter.

He opens the door, his gaze right on the floor even the second he closes the door, and the second he makes his way into the room, he suddenly screams.

“Woah,” Epel hears someone near him being surprised but somehow in a calm voice?

Epel shifts his gaze to what—or actually who—almost smashed him down to the floor, and gasps.

It’s you. You don’t seem really surprised, your lips parted just slightly, but… Hey, how did you manage to raise your leg so high?! Are you even human, like this flexibility is no joke at all! Epel notices your outfit and pointe shoes you’re wearing, and goes all awestruck and confused.

“Did you just,” he says, staring at you in shock. “Almost smashed me with your leg.”

“Yes,” you admit. “But thankfully I was quick on my reflexes to do a third arabesque just in time. How come you did not notice me?”

“Ergh, I was kinda lost in thoughts… But girl, you’re insane though. Never knew you could dodge so well just by dancing— Ah.”

You look at him in confusion when he gasps and suddenly laughs. So that was what Vil meant by smiling so suspiciously!! No wonder he told him to come here when you’re the one who dances. Who would have thought you can actually learn some helpful moves with a ballet out of all dances?

Epel tells you about the whole plan Vil set for him, and when you agree to help, he shows you the video he sent and wonders why you're grinning so much.

“What’s the matter?”

“Have you not realized yet? It’s me. It’s my performance.”

“NO FREAKING WAY??”

Okay, he definitely underestimated ballet. And do you think he could actually accompany you one day?.. Well, at least you two may try fighting with all the pirouettes you want to teach him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #vil x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #pomefiore #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier

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winxanity-ii · 2 years ago

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RIP ME OUT THE PLASTIC

ship: stereotypical ken x fem!popstar barbie!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.4k a/n: Hello~ Welcome to my first writing post on tumblr. i just went to see the new Barbie movie and now I can't seem to get it out of my head; so until that happens, I will be both cross-posting old/new works from my quotev, wattpad, and a03 while making fics/one-shots for Barbie (2023) and other shows/animes I have written on my main-masterlist here. ★·.·´🇧‌🇦‌🇷‌🇧‌🇮‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Under the enchanting night sky of Barbieland, the moon casted its soft glow on the sea, laying out a shimmering path of light on the water.

The waves gently lapped against the shore, their rhythmic sound a soothing backdrop to the distant melody of music and laughter that boomed from the Barbie Dream House.

Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. All the Barbies and Kens danced to the upbeat music that pulsed through the air, their unique outfits radiating beauty and confidence. Sparkling lights twinkled like stars inside the house, creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls.

Laughter and cheers harmonized with the melody, turning the celebration into a magical spectacle that only Barbieland could offer.

But just outside the Dream House, Stereotypical Ken sat alone on the beach, removed from the celebration. Dressed in his signature beach attire—a vibrant Hawaiian shirt and crisp white shorts—he stared out at the sea. His usually bright blue eyes were now glistening with unshed tears, reflecting the moonlight and the turmoil within his heart.

Since Stereotypical Barbie had left for the real world, he had been heartbroken.

He understood why she chose her own path—Barbie was always meant for greater things, her spirit uncontainable.

She loved him as a friend, and he had come to accept that their relationship would never be more than that. Yet, the acceptance didn't ease the ache.

He sighed wistfully, thinking back to when he believed he and Barbie were the perfect couple, destined to be together. He remembered their shared moments—the beach parties, the tandem surf rides, the sunset walks in Barbieland's perfect evenings.

Their laughter echoed in his memory, and the love he felt was a flame that burned brightly within him but one that would never be returned in the way he wished.

"Maybe I was just a supporting role in her story," Ken murmured to himself, picking up a handful of sand and letting it slip through his fingers. "But what does that make me now?"

A few feet away, Ken's best friend Allan stood with concern etched on his face. Clad in a casual outfit that contrasted with the flamboyant party attire, Allan was always the observant one.

Beside him were Diplomat Barbie, elegant in her tailored suit; Doctor Barbie, her lab coat replaced with a chic dress for the evening; and even Tourist Ken, sporting his ever-present camera and a novelty T-shirt from his latest imagined trip.

Allan furrowed his brow as he observed Ken alone on the beach. Leaning closer to the group, he whispered, "Guys, have you noticed how much Stereotypical Ken has changed lately? He's been so down since Stereotypical Barbie left."

Diplomat Barbie nodded. "It's clear he's really struggling with Barbie's departure," she said softly. "We should support him."

Tourist Ken, never missing a chance for a sarcastic remark, quipped, "Well, he's definitely not the life of the party anymore."

Allan shot him a disapproving look. "This isn't time to joke, Tourist Ken," he said firmly. "We all care about Stereotypical Ken. He's going through a rough time."

Doctor Barbie placed a comforting hand on Allan's shoulder. "Exactly. He needs our understanding and a listening ear. It's important we let him know he's not alone."

Tourist Ken sighed, realizing the seriousness of the situation. "Alright, alright, I get it," he grumbled, his tone softening. "I might give him a hard time, but I don't want to see him like this. Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do if my Barbie left me."

Inside the lavish boardroom of Mattel, the CEO paced back and forth, frustration evident in every step.

Stacks of Barbie dolls, each adorned in a myriad of outfits and styles, surrounded the long conference table. Posters of classic Barbie campaigns adorned the walls, serving as constant reminders of the brand's storied legacy.

"Sales are stagnant, and we need a fresh approach!" the CEO exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Barbie needs a rebrand—something that resonates with a wider audience while championing empowerment and self-expression."

The executives around the table exchanged worried glances, fully aware of the gravity of the task at hand. They knew Barbie was more than just a doll; she was a symbol of dreams and aspirations for generations of young people.

Determined, the executives dove into brainstorming, each eager to impress the CEO. One by one, they presented their ideas, only to be met with the CEO's cold dismissals.

"A line of Barbie dolls inspired by famous historical figures?"

"Please, we've done that before," the CEO retorted dismissively.

"How about a collection of online Barbie dolls with augmented reality features?" another executive proposed, his voice wavering slightly.

"Augmented reality? Ha! Kids want something they can touch, not virtual gimmicks!" the CEO scoffed, shaking his head. "C'mon, people! I need something fresh! Something groundbreaking! Next!"

Undeterred, the executives kept pitching ideas—from high-tech Barbie accessories to Barbie-themed amusement parks. Yet every suggestion was met with the CEO's sharp wit and skepticism.

Finally, the tension and frustration reached a boiling point. The CEO let out a dramatic groan, pushing a few boxes off the table and clutching his hair in a comically exaggerated display of exasperation.

"I can't take it anymore!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the silent room.

Just as the CEO was about to indulge in his dramatics further, his assistant barged in, her expression urgent yet professional.

"Sir, excuse the interruption, but there's an important call for you," the assistant said, accustomed to her boss's fits.

The CEO straightened up, smoothing his tie and regaining his composure. "Who's calling?"

"It's the CEO of MGA Entertainment, sir."

A dramatic shift occurred in the CEO's demeanor, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "MGA Entertainment, you say?" he murmured, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"Y-Yes, sir," the assistant confirmed, noting the shift in his demeanor

"What's did he want?"

"H-He wants to discuss a potential collaboration."

The already silent room tensed, the executives exchanging curious glances. MGA Entertainment was known for being a competitor, and any talk of collaboration was bound to raise eyebrows.

"Well, isn't... this... interesting." The CEO let out a sarcastic, dry chuckle, his expression unreadable. "MGA Entertainment, the geniuses behind the 'BRATZ' dolls reaching out to collab with little ol' us," he barked with a wry smile. "About time, really, we all know how well that worked out for them, don't we?"

The executives chuckled, recalling the ill-fated attempt by MGA Entertainment to rival Barbie with their 'BRATZ' dolls, which had failed to capture the audience and eventually 'vanished' from the market.

Despite his skepticism, the CEO couldn't ignore the potential upsides. He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the offer. "Well, if they survived the 'BRATZ' fiasco, perhaps a collaboration with Barbie might just be their chance for redemption. Let's see what they've got to offer..."

As time passed, Stereotypical Ken wandered aimlessly through Barbieland, his heart weighed down by unrequited feelings. The once-vibrant atmosphere of the daily Barbie and Ken parties had lost its charm since Barbie's departure.

While the other Kens and Barbies danced and celebrated, Ken stood apart, shoulders slumped, feeling detached from the festivities. His sun-bleached hair, usually styled to perfection, now fell messily over his forehead. The sparkle in his bright blue eyes had dimmed, reflecting the emptiness he felt inside.

Yet, amidst Ken's somber mood, a subtle shift began to ripple through Barbieland.

The air crackled with new energy, an unspoken excitement buzzing like electricity.

He noticed that the other Barbies and Kens were acting differently—their giggles more infectious, their laughter more boisterous. They whispered excitedly to each other, casting glances toward the large Barbie Dream House with anticipation in their eyes.

"What's going on?" Ken asked Allan, who seemed unusually animated.

Allan grinned mischievously and nudged Ken with an elbow. "Oh, haven't you heard? A new Barbie is about to join us! And trust me, she's got everyone talking!"

Confused by the sudden excitement over the arrival of this new doll, Ken wondered what could possibly surpass the allure of his beloved Barbie.

As days went by, the anticipation only grew.

Everywhere Ken went, he overheard hushed conversations, whispers about the doll's distinctive features, and rumors of her unique style. The buzz became infectious, even catching the attention of the previously indifferent Kens.

Curiosity gnawed at him.

Intrigued, Ken found himself drawn to the Barbie Dream House, where preparations for the new doll's arrival were in full swing. The usually bustling home was abuzz with activity as Kens and Barbies worked hard to make everything perfect for the newcomer.

But Ken couldn't bear to be part of the excitement. He felt like an outsider in a sea of happiness he couldn't share.

Instead, he retreated to his favorite spot on the beach, hoping the sound of the crashing waves and the salty breeze might soothe his aching heart.

As he sat on the beach, lost in thought, dark clouds gathered overhead, and a faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Yet, immersed in his own despair, he didn't notice or care about the magical display unfolding above him.

Ken sighed deeply, thoughts swirling like the sand beneath his feet. "Why did Barbie have to leave me?" he pondered aloud, gazing out at the vast ocean.

He reminisced about their time together—the laughter, the adventures, the moments they shared. He had thought they were perfect together, destined to be the ultimate Barbie and Ken duo.

"But I guess it was all in my head," he muttered. "She made it clear she only sees me as a friend, and nothing more."

The memories of their dances, the sparkle in her eyes when they were together, and the tenderness of her touch haunted him. Ken wondered if he had missed some sign, some signal that he wasn't enough for her.

"I should have gone with her to the real world," he mused, heart churning like the approaching storm. "Maybe I could have changed her mind—"

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice breaking through the turmoil. "Hey, you good?"

Ken looked up, breath catching in his throat at the sight before him.

The dark thunderclouds surrounding the beach parted, letting a beam of sunlight shine down, illuminating a new Barbie whose skin glowed warmly under the sun. Her braids cascaded down her back like a mesmerizing waterfall, with delicate pink strands artfully woven throughout.

Her plump, glossy brown lips curved into a welcoming smile, radiating warmth.

Her figure, with elegant curves, held a magnetic charm, drawing Ken's gaze as if she were a vision of beauty.

It was the new Barbie.

For a moment, Ken was speechless. He had seen many Barbies, but there was something uniquely captivating about this newcomer.

Her warm gaze seemed to pierce through the storm of his emotions, reaching a place within him that had been locked away since Stereotypical Barbie's departure. Her presence exuded a sense of confidence and understanding that resonated with him in ways he couldn't explain.

"Hey, you good?" the new Barbie repeated, lips falling into a slight pout as her head tilted slightly, eyes searching his.

Ken's heart skipped a beat.

It was rare for someone—especially a Barbie—to ask him about his feelings and well-being, considering they were in Barbieland where the focus was usually on fun and making Barbies happy.

"I... uh..." Ken stammered, trying to collect his thoughts while his heart raced. "Yes?"

Even a rock could see he was lying, but instead of pressing him, the Barbie just accepted it with a small smile and a nod.

The next few moments were spent in silence, but to Ken, it felt like an eternity. He was hyper-aware of the Barbie's presence beside him; every detail fascinated him, from the way the sun highlighted the pink strands in her braids to the gentle rise and fall of her breath.

The longer she stayed beside him, the more intrigued he became.

Finally, mustering some courage, he spoke, "I'm Stereotypical Ken. And you are?"

She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the sunlight like pools of warmth. "I'm Y/N."

Ken was taken aback. You weren't like any Barbie he had encountered before—hell, by your name alone, you weren't even technically a Barbie. Yet, there was an undeniable allure about you, a glimmer of a connection he hadn't felt in a long time. He blinked, struggling to process the name that wasn't "Barbie."

"Y/N," he repeated, savoring the way it felt on his tongue.

You giggled at his reaction, a playful glint in your eyes. "I know, it's different. I'm a new brand of Barbie called BARBZ—a limited collaboration between Mattel and MGA Entertainment. My message is all about embracing uniqueness and self-expression while promoting empowerment."

Ken's surprise turned into curiosity. He had heard of MGA's 'BRATZ' dolls before, but this was something entirely new.

"So, you're not like the other Barbies?" he asked, trying to grasp the concept.

You shook your head, a soft breeze rustling your hair. "No, I'm not. I'm my own person, with my own story to tell. Just like you are your own person, Ken."

Ken felt a strange sense of reassurance in your words.

For so long, he had been defined by his relationship with Barbie, but here was Y/N, a Barbie who embraced her uniqueness and encouraged him to do the same.

"Y/N, huh?" Ken grinned, his voice still tinged with vulnerability but more confident. "I like it; it suits you."

You beamed, delighted by his response. "I'm glad you do, Ken. And who knows, maybe we can create our own story together."

A part of him still worried that getting close to you might bring more heartache, given his unrequited feelings for Stereotypical Barbie. Yet, there was something about you that felt different, something that made him want to take a leap of faith.

"Yeah..." Ken echoed back in agreement, eyes softening the longer he stared at the new Barbie—no, Y/N's smiling face. "...we can."

And as they sat together, the clouds above fully dispersed, revealing a clear, star-studded sky.

The weight on Ken's shoulders began to lift, replaced by a sense of possibility he hadn't felt in a long time.

A/N: I just wanted to add, I am in no shape or form am advertising BRATZ DOLLZ hate 💀💀 I just thought this was a cool concept. I ALSO want to add that the BARBZ is in reference of Barbie + BRATZ not Nicki Minaj (no hate to the Barbz, but yall be wilding out here, so imma not get in that)

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survivingxbunny · 2 years ago

Note

Hello may I request a matchup! I prefer the killers more but whoever you choose is fine! I'm pansexual and trans masc (he/they). I enjoy collecting, dark stuff (gore, poisons, taxidermy, diseases, ect...), experimenting, writing, working out, military stuff, comics, learning, music (I go from Barbie girl to heavy metal to classic daily fr), observing, creating like paintings, photography, dancing all that fun stuff! And my personality in a nutshell is eccentric, charming sophisticated when I wanna be and something of a teenage dirt bag other times, blunt, chaos, ambitious, depressed, emotional internally, creative, witty, these hands are rated E for everyone, and I won't shut up about my hyper fixations either. So basically a adhd, trans masc, emo/goth enfp who's semi responsible! I also look a rat man I swear I got the straight long black hair, pale skin, eye bags, black blouses or t-shirts, leather everywhere, and messed up posture to prove it (Sorry this was long I have so much to say i put to much detail into these sometimes I'm not sure what to put honestly 😭) btw just wanna say you are so funny like goals dude

-🍷

// im shaking hands so hard being a fellow Trans masc He/They, also sharing a lot of the same interests ur one cool motherfucker 😎 also i try man I dont always think I am but 👉👈

ok so on for the match up!!

I can see you and Ghostface getting along funny enough! Sure our stealthy boy has many secrets but we do know he loves his photos and personally I can see him being well rounded when it comes to music so he'd def jam out to whatever you like, chances are he probably already knows the lyrics by heart.

He might not always be the best with his words but you bet he'll keep note of your favorite snacks, movies ect for when your having a rough time and need some comfort he has you covered 100%!

ngl tho i headcanon ghostie is ADHD & Autistic so catch him rambling about his hyperfixation too and honestly probably shares a lot that you do too...Hell he might get into something new after hearing how passionate you are about it!

#mod obsidian #dead by daylight match ups #dead by daylight ghostface

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stolasbuckzo · 1 year ago

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Katerina Dust

VO:

Anika Noni Rose (speaking)

EMELINE (singing)

Meaning of the name:

Kat was (comically) named by Angel Dust given the fact that most of her appearance is, indeed, more like a cat and the name pretty much stuck until she decided to shorten it to “K.D.” once she was a little bit older

Basics:

Ring: Pride (Pentagram City)

Sex: Female

Height: 7ft tall

Sexuality: Sapphic

Zodiac sign: Libra ♎️ (same as Luster)

Species: Sinner (hybrid)

<> Cat (via Husk)

<> Jumping spider (via Angel Dust)

Nationalities:

• American; Las Vegas 🇺🇸

<> Accent: Yat (New Orleans)

• Part Russian 🇷🇺

• Italian 🇮🇹

Occupation(s):

• Drug-lord

<> Business partner of Snow Dust — on behalf of Angel — and Barbie Wire

• Band leader

<> Band name: Hybridisation

<> Stage name: Pussycat

• Exotic dancer (stripper)

Band members:

• Thunder Howler (manger)

• Luster “Ace” Dust (songwriter)

• T.J. “Starlight” of the Ars Goetia

• Sugarcane Mayday

• Candy Buckzo (AU)

• Dawn “Ducky” Morningstar

• Ivy of the Ars Goetia

Relationship type: Polyamorous

Bed type: Switch 🤭

Dislikes:

• Her sister(s) being endangered

• Gambling

<> Not very good at it

• Walking

• Demons bullying her friends/family

• Redemption

Likes:

• Popularity

• Sex

• Drinking alcohol

• Flying

• Beelzebub (idol)

• Being drunk

• Being on her phone - Sinstagram

• Drugs

• Partygoer (hardcore)

• Using her wings and tail for dancing props

• Italian culture

• Midnight flights with her violin

• RuPaul’s Drag Race 🤭

<> It’s hers and Angel’s favourite thing to watch

Flaws:

• Smoker

• Playing the violin in front of other people

• Drug addict

• Member of Verosika’s posse

• Competitiveness

• Popularity

• Hates the idea of redemption

• Abused (emotionally) by Verosika

<> Also a little bit of gaslighting too

• Cat mannerisms

• Deipnophobia

<> Fear of eating in front of people

<> Similar: Eating disorder

• Daddy’s girl

Strengths:

• Musical talents

• Weapon proficiency

• Emotional regulation

<> Plays the violin to express her mood(s)

- Mozart 40 (energised)

- Wedding Tarantella etc (Italian)

<> Bella Ciao (happy 🇮🇹)

- Hungarian Dance (dramatic)

- Bach 2 (sad)

- Waltz No. 2 (expressive)

- Vivaldi

<> Background music for when her parents are arguing (much to their annoyance 🤣)

- Jaws theme song (when Luster comes into her room)

- My Heart Will Always Go On cover (romantic)

<> Can’t Help Fallin' In Love

- Fair Tail Theme - Folk Version (jaunty)

- Pirates of The Caribbean Theme Song (for T.J. 😂)

- Sway With Me (cover)

• Flexibility

Romantic interests:

• T.J. of the Ars Goetia (RP) (OC)

• Candy Buckzo (OC)

• Sugarcane Mayday (OC)

• Verosika Mayday (one-sided)

• Aketh (RP)

Affiliations:

• Hazbin Hotel

• The Hybridisations (band)

• Verosika Mayday’s crew

Family:

(bio) Aunt: Molly

(bio) Uncle: Arackniss

Father 1#: Husk

Father 2#: Angel Dust

(fraternal twin) Sister: Luster

(surrogate) Sister: Niffty

(surrogate) Aunt: Charlie Morningstar

AU:

(surrogate) Aunt: Snow Dust (RP)

<> Business partners

(future) Wife: T.J. Buckzo

Nicknames/aliases:

• Pussycat (stage name)

• Tak (anagram)

• Kat (mainly)

Abilities:

• Flight

• Promiscuity

• Multilingualism (anywhere from Europe)

• Agile

• High alcohol tolerance

• Musical talents

<> Singing - from both parents

<> Violist

• Observation

<> Can tell when someone has spiked her drink

Appearance and personality:

Body:

Kat, just as her name suggests, has cat-like appearance with grey fur with long wings (similar to Husk) but has white and dusty pink colours with a heart shape at the back of them. Her tail is bush same colour as her wings and same pattern.

She has very long legs for a female which also has a heart on the back of her feet (a darker get this time; same as the patterns on her arms) and her fingertips (claws?) and toes have a white patch which is the same colour as her face before stopping at the bottom of her stomach.

Despite the dark grey colour of Kat's hair, has the same/similar fluffy shape to "hairstyle" as Angel Dust

Eyes:

Kat, despite her entire body being cat-like, the only thing that resembles to a spider is both her six of her eyes (besides the ones she can see out of) that look like freckles and open up when incredibly angry

Similar to her sister she also has the same sclera colour as both Luster & Angel Dust whilst her left eye is normal looking with a golden greenish/yellow hue added to it

Significant markings:

Kat has dusty pink hearts (representation Angel Dust) all over her body: legs, wings, inside of her ears, chest, and tail. However she also does have lines across her wings that is a slightly darker peachy colour (much like Husk except the colour)

Reference sheet:

Credits go to: HazbinHotelFan

Source: Pinterest

How would you describe Kat’s personality?

• Volatile

• Reckless (even worse than Angel Dust 😂)

• Influential

• Family orientated

• Protective

<> Especially with her sisters

• Hypersexual

• Alert

• Hypersensitive

• Competitive

• Hopeless romantic (formerly)

• Authoritative

• Sceptical

#Spotify #kat dust #OC #anika noni rose

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chillwildwave · 2 years ago

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1. My favourite member is Robaire since we almost share the same traits: we speak French, we both love singing and dancing and we are also quite helpful, I also love him just because I find him attractive.

2. It has always been Robaire if I’m being honest.

3. Robaire is an extreme perfectionist and often cusses in French whenever there’s a malfunction on stage.

4. Jesse’s adopted father was in fact an artist who taught him how to paint and observe the world around him in the name of art.

5. Tae Young spends his time on his makeup before getting on stage.

6. Aaron Z is a massive fan of Micheal Jackson, when he was young, he went to his concert!

Aaron T did in fact have dreams of being a comedian but due to his bad jokes, he gave that dream behind to become a member of 4Town.

7. 1: U Know What’s Up, the confidence they send is unreal along with their vocals, the intro and the 1st verse are my favourite parts.

2: Nobody Like U, the song that started it all, the early 00s vibe this sends is just ethereal, Im especially obsessed with Aaron Z’s rap verse, it just hits!

3: 1 True Love, this song shows how talented these members are, from Robaire’s unexpected high note to all the harmonies, Im especially in love with the music video.

8: I ship Jesse and Tae Young since they do have this big bro, lil bro dynamic evidenced in the manga.

9: I remember during my final school play where I hat to play the lead singer of a boyband version of the Lost Boys in Peter Pan, and my teacher asked me to perform “Nobody Like U” from 4*Town, from that moment, my heart fluttered. During the performances, everyone in the audience even snag the song while they were leaving the play, especially when I went back to class, some students started singing the song whenever they walked passed me which shows that they really did enjoy my performance! I did to! And I’ll never forget that day!

10: I read the manga, my favourite chapter was True Crew since I was in love with Z’s personality and he and Robaire’s friendship really connects with me since it does show why Z despises Ro and he tries to make him feel better despite hiding his overachieving side.

11: 1: Nobody Like U - “Let’s call em what it is, it’s a masterpiece!” That line just slaps!

2: U Know What’s Up - “U wanted it, I went for it and baby I got it!” The vocals just send me!

3: 1 True Love - “Nobody Else” these HARMONIES… Come on, you can hear the pain in their voices!

12: My favourite scene was when Mei introduces the boys, it was actually fun to get to know why she loves the group so much by showing each individual personality of each member- I specifically couldn’t stop staring at Robaire’s smile when he came on screen, from that moment, it was love at first sight!

13: I would actually want to make Aaron Z the lead character since he struggles through a lot as seen in the manga and it would be great to see him have his point of view of his experiences of fame and how his rivalry with Robaire will affect the rest of the group!

14; Robaire: The Little Mermaid 🧜🏿‍♂️ Isn’t it obvious?

Tae Young: Snow White 🕊️🍎. The way he fosters animals sends Disney Princess vibes.

Aaron Z: Rapunzel 🪮🗼. I guess his shy personality translates well with this story.

Aaron T: Red Riding Hood ♥️🐺🌳. This definitely makes sense for his outgoing enthusiasm.

Jesse: Cinderella 🥿👑🧚. This screams Jesse because of his dual struggle of being a father and a member of a boyband.

15: I was thinking they could have some 4*Town Barbie dolls that sing when you raise their hand or maybe some T shirts that say out one of their lyrics from their songs.

16: If they made a next album, it would be a more mature take as most of their songs would be about clubbing, love, and the life of being a celebrity so that they could share their experiences with the 4*Townies.

17: The diversity and inclusion of each member, I mean, it’s refreshing to see others be seen within these characters whether they’re Black, mixed, white etc.

18: To be honest, I love that amount of creativity that we hold and the love we have for this group in order to keep their legacy alive and live on through the hearts of millions!

19: I do a lot of art in my spare time, I’m currently practicing some animation for my college course on September.

20: All For You is definitely my favourite from their discography, just because the harmonies sound out of this world especially when my favourite part comes up when they sing “since you’re no one else I’ll be around and I’ll never leave you!”

21: Sunflower because I think it personally suits them!

22: Cry Me A River by Justin Timberlake just because I can definitely hear his voice on this specific track!

23: I would make a series that focuses on each member of the group to gives us a look at their individual personalities and how they prepare for the show (maybe some footage of dance rehearsals, studio sessions and some vlogs about their lives.)

24: Aaron T and Z cause they just remind of siblings from the amount of vibes they give!

25: “Girl I Love Ur Jeans” I’ve been willing to hear this for a long time as I believe it would have a similar vibe to Nobody Like U but with a bit of an edgy side and a rap verse between Z and T that I really want to hear!

26: Not really. Just the themes of brotherhood, fame, friendship and parental expectations.

27: @4townie since I’m obsessed with the series, I love their content and they seem like a friendly and creative person, I really enjoy reading their headcanons as well!

28: Yeah, I enjoy it very much as a way to bring the fandom alive from the dead as well as combining it with my other aspirations like drawing and writing to share my artistic side as well.

29: I would at least create a chapter where we get Aaron T’s backstory and Robaire’s backstory to know why he’s an overachiever and why it bothers Aaron Z.

30: Not really.

31: I’d get along well with Robaire and Jesse since we both have artistic sides to us, we also have a fond love for performing in front of people!

32: Not much, it’s great the way it is!

33: Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC, Gots To Be by B2K, Larger Than Life by Backstreet Boys.

34: My message is that I’m grateful for the amount of love we have for the group, emphasised by our creativity, passion and support to show that we’re not going anywhere, and don’t forget… I know something big is happening, I just know it!

Welcome one and all to the… 4*Town Ask Game! Where you can answer questions to emphasise your love for the entire 4*Town fandom and to also bring the hype of my fanfiction that’s coming up soon.

How it’s going to work: I’ll write the questions on this post, make sure to read them carefully as a way to fully answer the questions in detail, once you've read them, reblog to answer the full questions and make sure that the words are appropriate as I don’t tolerate hateful behaviour. And don’t forget to share this to others so they can share the love for this group as well! Without further ado, let’s get started!

Who is your favourite member and why?

Who was your favourite member previously?

Share with me a headcanon on Robaire 🌹

Share with me a headcanon on Jesse 🎨

Share with me a headcanon on Tae Young 🕊️

Share a headcanon on The Aarons (Z and T)

What is your favourite 4*Town song and why? (Include your Top 3.)

Who do you ship from the group and why?

What was your first memory of 4*Town?

Did you read the manga? If so, what is your favourite chapter and why?

Name me your top 3 favourite lyrics from each 4*Town song🎵🎶

Do you have a favourite 4*Town scene from Turning Red and why?

Since I’m working on the “4*Town: Unfiltered” story, who do you want to be the main protagonist and why?

If you could imagine each 4*Town member in a fairy tale or any story, which one would each member be in and why?

What type of merch would you buy if 4*Town had merchendise?

For their next album, what concept would you want it to be and what songs could you include and why?

What do you like the most about 4*Town and why?

What do you love most about the entire fandom?

Do you do art or any other activities?

Can you tell me your favourite song from Robaire and Aaron Z’s discography? (You can sing the song’s lyrics as well.) And if you don’t know what I mean, I’m talking about the songs from my headcanons.

Pick a song for Tae Young and Jesse if they were a duo.

Pick a song for Aaron T if he went solo.

If you had to make a series or a spin-off of 4*Town, what would you include and why?

Do you have a favourite relationship from the group and why?

Which unreleased song from the group are you willing to hear and what are you expecting the song to sound like?

Are there any more themes or genres for my fanfiction that I should explore? It would be nice if you gave me any suggestions, please.

Do you have a favourite blog from the fandom and what do you like about them?

Do you enjoy sharing 4*Town content? Why or why not?

If there were any changes in the manga, what would you change? Why or why not?

Any unpopular opinions on 4*Town?

Which member do you think you’d get along with the most? Why or why not?

What are you expecting the fanfiction to look like to you when it gets released on Wattpad? Any form of plot? Character development? Conflicts?

Which songs remind you of 4*Town? Why or why not?

And the final question: Do you have a message for the whole entire fandom?

#4town robaire #4town #4town aaron z #4town taeyoung #4town jesse #4town aaron t #4town fanfic #4town headcanons #4town fanart #turning red 4town #turning red #novel writing #writing #4town x reader

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hiddenclawsof · 5 years ago

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aesthetic tag game

tagged by @yutopiada (one of my fav ptg writers out there still notices me to this day im emo--)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

@yunwoo, @wookikun , @hojinhoe (hi no pressure in doing this but if you want to do this you are welcome to do so ((: )

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pixiedst · 5 years ago

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Dance With Me 02 // KYG

Request from @lost-midnight-flower

Hiii can I request a got7 fic? Maybe something along the lines of meeting the guys at a fan meeting or something and one of them falling head over heals with the reader? That seems pretty cute to me, is that weird? If you choose to write this, you can pick which member you want to write about ^^ have a great day/evening ahead!

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Reader x Yugyeom Rating: PG-13 Warnings: None Description: Dance studio owner Y/N meets Yugyeom at a fan sign. Word Count: 3,694

Index // Part One // Part Three // Part Four

”I’m gonna be honest, I enjoyed the bunny ears,” Yugyeom says and takes her copy of the album to sign.

“Hilarious,” Y/N says. “Turn to the next page.”

He does as he’s told and finds a beige envelope with a glittery, red heart sticker sealing it. He lifts it and scoffs. “How radiant.”

“If you don’t want it, I’ll-“, but before her fingers can reach it, he pulls away.

“No way! I wanna know more about you! I am not losing this chance.”

Y/N tries to keep a straight face, but she can tell from Yugyeom’s laugh that her cheeks are red enough to betray her. He’s different today. Bolder. She looks at the fans next to her. Can they hear them? They seem busy enough with their conversations.

She likes this, though. It’s a different side to him. Before she can say anything else, the staff orders her to move. As she gathers her things, she glances back at Yugyeom one last time to flash a smile.

He winks.

Dear Yugyeom,

Here is the letter you asked for.

Yours, Y/N

Yugyeom stifles a laugh and reads further.

Okay, I’m kidding. I’m writing this after watching your beautifully entitled V-Live “OLOLOLO”. Mark noticed my comment and asked for me: what have you been up to lately? It inspired me to write this.

Do you wanna know why I started dancing? I watched Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses as a kid. I wanted to travel to a secret land where I could dance with magical statues to classical music by instruments that played themselves. Needless to say, when I found out none of that was real, I was devastated.

But what kept most of that fantasy a reality was the dancing. My parents understood how much I wanted to be a dancer and enrolled me in ballet class. I was horrible, hated it immensely, and my dream of becoming a princess withered.

Years passed, and they let me enroll in a hip hop dance class, and that’s where I found my rhythm. My body was comfortable with the music, and I was satisfied with the setting. I knew I wanted to be a professional dancer.

But my parents’ understanding ended there. It thrilled them to have a daughter who could dance, but they felt that choosing it as a career was impractical. After years of begging, proving my worth through recitals and gold medals, they never changed their minds.

I graduated with a business degree. They wanted me to start a business, so I did. I started my studio. They tried to get angry, but they knew they had no reason to be. I did what they wanted me to do, and with the skills I learned, I added my own twist. I never broke a rule.

Until now, they’re unhappy with my decision, but they’re less angry. I think that’s all right. I still meet with them every few weeks because I love them despite the sacrifices they forced me to make. But looking back, it’s safe to say they were good for me. With my level of skill before university, I wouldn’t have been able to get into any of the performing arts schools. I only joined the dance team in my school and used that experience to start my studio. Not a bad deal.

You might be wondering why I’m telling you all this. That V-Live struck a chord in me. Bambam said to not be ashamed, so here I am, shamelessly presenting my life story to you.

Here’s my social media if you want to see me dance. This is a huge step for me, but I think this is a good way for me to let go of doubts and embrace the unknown instead.

Instagram: @dancingseoul

YouTube: Dancing Seoul Studio

Thank you again for inspiring me to be where I am now. You’re the best.

Yours, Y/N

Yugyeom’s mind races. He’s only met this person three times, but despite the brief interactions, she trusted him enough with this personal story. There is nothing more he wants for her but success. He wants to see her studio run out of slots for enrollments. He wants millions of people to subscribe to her YouTube channel. It’s what she deserves. Life is too cruel to keep that from her.

He checks her Instagram. It’s cute. Majority of the posts are dance videos and pictures of the studio, but she slides in a few selfies now and then. Their family is small, but she looks happy. He smiles. He likes seeing her happy.

He stops on a selfie from two years ago. She barely aged. The only difference is her hair, which in this photo shows a light brown shade and a fringe. Cute. He taps twice and continues to scroll.

Within a few more photos down, he freezes.

Wait. Did he...

He hurries back up, a scream locked in his throat. His muscles tense, and his breathing goes rigid. Why can’t he find it? He’s back in the recent ones. Did he miss it again? He scrolls back down, slower this time, but the pace is almost killing him. She must have seen the notification by now.

When he finally finds it, he taps on the heart and drops his phone on the bed. He sighs. There’s no use. He’ll have to explain himself next time they meet.

Maybe they can pretend it never happened, but based on their brief interactions and the way she writes her letters, that’s highly unlikely. Typical. Just another person in his life to tease him indefinitely.

He smiles. For the members, it’s nothing new. But for Y/N? Maybe it won’t be so bad.

How to React to Your Idol Liking Your Instagram Photo: A Tutorial With Y/N

Drop your phone on the floor

Scramble to check your phone is okay

Scream in your pillow

Cry (optional)

Take a screenshot to preserve the memory

She frowns. He liked that photo? Why did she even upload it? What was she thinking? Her hair was a mess, and she was sweating like she’d been in a sauna. And the angle? She can’t even process how embarrassing her selfie skills were two years ago. She taps on the three dots and hovers her thumb over the “Archive” button.

What if he did like it, though? Maybe he thought she looked… pretty. She scoffs. That’s ridiculous. She’s not terrible looking, but she could never compare to the girls he must see every day. Twice literally works in the same building as him. He can’t possibly look at her and think she’s pretty.

But she is open to possibilities. Sometimes. Only this time.

Y/N smiles. She exits the app and places her phone on the bedside table. The thought rings in her mind, and she can’t help but bury her face is her pillow. Wouldn’t it be nice, though?

Wouldn’t it be nice if Kim Yugyeom found her pretty?

“Is it her?” Bambam asks.

“No,” Yugyeom replies, and flashes a smile at the fan in front of him and accepts a stuffed toy.

So, his secret is out. The members caught on and have been playing telephone throughout the event. Yugyeom just has to suffer from being seated in the middle this time.

“Is it her?” Bambam asks, not even looking away from his next fan.

“No, but she’s almost here.”

Bambam laughs as he allows the fan to place a scarf around his neck. Yugyeom wishes nothing more than to run away and never come back. His members are extra smiley and observing each fan who comes their way, trying to figure out which of them was able to steal the maknae’s heart.

Oh, God, please keep it subtle, he prays.

And there she is. His breath hitches, and he blinks a few times to avoid making a complete fool of himself.

“Hello,” His voice cracks.

So much for subtle.

Bambam and Youngjae laugh, and the girls they’re talking to join in. Fantastic.

He clears his throat and repeats himself. “Hello.”

Y/N smiles. “Did you drink enough water today? You don’t want your voice to crack like that again.”

He can feel Bambam and Youngjae solve the puzzle. It’s only a matter of time before the information leaks to the rest.

“No letter today, sorry. I figured the previous one already showed a lot. I don’t even know what to say anymore,” she says.

He pulls the album closer to him and signs. “That’s okay. I really enjoyed reading it. I got to know you a little better.”

Y/N presses her lips together before she leans in to reply, “You seem to have enjoyed my Instagram, too.”

Yugyeom laughs and pink rises in his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. I was just going through your dance videos and accidentally pressed like on your selfie. You’re a really talented dancer, though! I’m impressed!”

Nice save. That was a nice save, right?

“Nice save.” So it was not. “But thank you for the compliment. I wasn’t sure about that selfie, though.”

“I thought you looked cute,” he says. She looks away shyly. “But really, though. You’re an incredible dancer. I hope your studio gets the recognition it deserves.”

“I’m so tired,” Jia says and slides to the floor as the rest of the team gather their things.

Areum ties her hair and wipes the sweat around her neck. “Me too. I’m so glad it’s Saturday. I can stay up all night watching Luna’s Hotel.”

“New drama?” Y/N asks.

“Mhm! It’s my second one this week!” she replies.

How she finished yet another drama, Y/N has no idea. It’s surprising enough that she has the energy to teach dance despite barely getting any sleep. Sunhee, on the other hand, has been slowing down. Apparently, she’s been getting into GOT7.

None of them know about Y/N’s interest in the group. If anything, the members themselves are the only ones who do. Nobody else is aware of his influence on her career, and she prefers to keep it that way. She doesn’t want them to think she’s weird and obsessed.

“If they’re just gonna show off their relationship every two seconds, they might as well get married,” Sunhee grumbles as she stares at her phone.

“I know. It’s all they ever post about. We get it. They’re dating,” Jia says.

“Who’s dating?” Y/N asks.

Sunhee turns her phone and reveals the screen. Y/N leans in to get a better view. It’s a picture of Hyuna and Dawn. His hand is on her waist, and she’s kissing his cheek while he looks at the camera with a slightly tucked chin and close-lipped smile. It’s a cute picture.

“What’s wrong with them dating?”

“It’s disrespectful to the fans!” Areum says.

“How is falling in love disrespectful?”

Jia scoffs. “Typical of you to say that, really. Listen. Celebrities exist to entertain, meaning the audience can form emotional attachments to them. Dating someone completely destroys that bond they formed with their fans. It’s disrespectful for that sole reason. Do you get it?”

Y/N wishes she could reply with, “Typical of you to say that, really,” but stops herself. Maybe she should just agree. What’s the point of disagreeing when it will only leave her out of the group even more? It’s funny how she’s technically the boss, yet they treat her like another colleague. Where is the respect?

Part of it is her fault, though. She can’t be too restricting, and she is desperate to keep them with her. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she needs them. Sure, she wants a circle of friends, but she also needs them for her business. What would she do without them?

But she cannot let them win this time. She just can’t agree with them.

“I understand that there’s a bond between celebrities and their fans, but they don’t just exist to entertain. They’re more than just faces on a screen. They’re human beings, and the fans are only falling in love with a small portion of their real selves. You see how much training they have to go through just to debut. They have to be as close to perfect as possible because they’ll be in front of hundreds of cameras. What I’m saying is that underneath all that perfection, they are regular people who fall in love too. Being a celebrity doesn’t take that away.”

Sunhee shakes her head. “I bet you haven’t fallen in love with an idol before.” Her voice wavers. How pathetic. “It’s like chasing a cloud. You just look at them from afar, and that’s all you can do.” She sighs. “You wouldn’t understand.”

They pick up their things and head to the door. Jia leaves last and says, “See you on Monday, Boss.”

Y/N only responds with a nod and a weak smile.

Jia called her ‘boss’. If only she felt worthy of the title. She sighs and takes their place on the floor and closes her eyes. She could really use another surprise live. Anything GOT7 always made her feel better.

She walks to the speakers and plugs her phone before clicking on shuffle and running to the center of the room.

When the music begins, it’s like the rhythm is beating for her. Y/N always had to think before she spoke, analyze every word the rest of the world said, but in this room, there is no language but the movement of her body. There is no law but the music running through her veins. As she dances to the beat, her feet and legs and knees scream at her to rest, but she doesn’t listen. Moments like these are precious to her. This is her territory. This is home.

A knock on the door puts her off balance. She groans. Everybody knows not to interrupt her when she’s dancing. Did someone forget something? There doesn’t seem to be anything left behind. She rushes to her phone and pauses the music. She grabs a towel and wipes her sweat before she reaches for the door.

“Listen, we’re clo-” But her voice gets trapped.

Standing before her is none other than Kim Yugyeom.

Y/N doesn’t know what to do. She has dealt with defending her dream to her family, lost relationships because no one believed in her, and handled three difficult-to-please girls for two years. She got through those hurdles without a scratch, but as she stands before Yugyeom, her throat is dry and her knees buckle.

Her fantasies could never live up to this. Not enough fan fiction prepared her for this moment, and frankly, she’s not sure if there is anything in the world to do that. This is her idol, her hero, the entire reason she has her studio today—the very studio he’s in. Well, sort of in. He’s only at the door frame, and this must be the moment she steps aside to let him in, but her body remains still.

“Hello,” he says, his voice low. “I don’t really want to be seen right now. Can I come in?”

Like a hypnotist’s snap, she blinks and regains control of her senses. She quickly nods and steps aside, still unable to find her words.

Yugyeom seems to be doing just fine. He walks around the room like a tourist in a museum and gapes at every little thing she’s sure the JYP building has and more. After admiring the speakers, he turns around and faces her.

“Do you mind if I…” He unzips a few inches of his hoodie and meets her eyes, a quiet permission to take it off.

She nods and almost chokes when her eyes land on his arms. He’s wearing a muscle tee today. Her heart beats louder than the speakers on maximum volume. He places the hoodie on a bench against the wall, and even that is enough to make her breathing go rigid. Everything he does is so godlike, she doesn’t know if she’s worthy of this front-row seat.

“So… how did you find my studio?”

“The address is on your Instagram.”

Of course. Heat rises in her cheeks. Given she’s already humiliated herself, maybe she should create a list of them to slap herself in the face with when this is all over.

“Right,” She rubs the back of her neck. “What are you doing here then? Do you need a place to practice or something?”

He shakes his head and walks to her. “I wanted to see you.”

Y/N is sure he can hear her heartbeat. “You… you wanted to see me?”

He nods. “I really like talking to you, and I thought since we barely got the chance to know each other through the fan signs, maybe we could step outside of those and become real friends. You seem like a really interesting person, and I want to get to know you more.”

What’s with the sudden confession? Her entire face must be red right now. With his eyebrows raised and a small smile forming, he’s definitely having fun with her reaction. She takes a step back in hopes of the distance giving her space to breathe.

But why would he want to be friends with her? She’s just a low-rate dancer with a small studio. What could he find interesting about her? She scans his face, and he lowers his eyebrows, but his smile never fades. He’s not kidding.

“All right,” she says and takes a step forward. “But we have to keep this a secret. If my friends find out, I’ll never see the end of their complaints.”

She hates to admit it, but she almost regrets saying that. Being friends with Kim Yugyeom could be the turning point in their relationship. She can almost imagine it. They would pay more attention, listen to everything she has to say without disregarding it, and they might even like her. They’d listen to her stories about Yugyeom behind the scenes and whine. They’d be jealous of her. How enthralling is that? To have someone be jealous of her for once…

Did she really think all that in a few seconds? She sighs and lowers her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mutters and meets his eyes again. “It’s best if no one finds out. I don’t want to risk having my entire life change.”

“I get it.” He looks at the speakers on his left before turning back to her. “You were dancing to Teenager.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I was. I should be home by now, but I was feeling a bit stressed and needed to get it off my chest.”

He walks to the speakers and picks up her phone. “This might be a weird question, but can I see you dance?” When she doesn’t reply, he adds, “I want to see the Y/N I heard so much about. By ‘heard’, I mean ‘read’.”

She walks toward him. “Weren’t you just on my Instagram? You could see me dance there.”

He laughs. “Yeah, but you mostly post your students’ performances. And on Youtube, too. You don’t give yourself enough screen time. I wanna see you.”

The light just above him shines on his skin, and the shadows sharpen his features. His black muscle tee and jeans give off the illusion that his skin is paler, he almost looks like a vampire. A sexy dancing vampire. There is something about him that’s so captivating.

Y/N was never good with words. Dancing was always easier. She’s sure he can agree, and that’s when it hits her. Maybe he does have a reason to want to be her friend. He found someone he could relate to.

“Sit down. I’ll show you something no one’s seen yet.” His smile rises to the ends of his cheeks. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I’m very lucky.”

“Now this isn’t finished yet. It’s supposed to be for two people, and I haven’t choreographed the entire song or the boy’s part. What you’re about to see is completely raw and unfixed. It might not be pretty.”

“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”

I am Yours by Andy Grammer fills the room, and her body moves in an instant. She thought she’d be nervous dancing in front of her idol, but it’s the very reason the confidence surges through her. She follows every beat with her feet, with her arms, with her whole being until she sinks into the melody.

You know I need you Like you’re oxygen Be my atmosphere Let me breathe you in So I can try to tell you I love you

She twirls under an imaginary hand, which her mind immediately portrays as Yugyeom’s. Her heart soars at the image, and it pushes her further. Her body is tired, but she can’t find the energy to stop.

Still can’t believe it when you say you’re mine and I am yours, I am yours

With one final spin, she halts and meets his eyes.

I am yours.

She doesn’t know what he’s thinking. There is no expression on his face. His gaze is completely fixed on hers, and it almost glows under the lights. His breathing is quick like he was the one dancing.

“What-” She tries to catch her breath, but she can’t tell if her struggle is from the dance. “What do you think?”

He swallows and licks his lips. “I’m thinking…” Y/N grips the hem of her shirt. “I want to be your partner.”

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “What?”

He gets up and walks straight to her like time is running out. “I wanna dance to this with you. You haven’t finished the choreography, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And you said you needed a partner. A boy. Well, I’m available, and I want the part.”

“But Yug-”

He takes her hands, and her body freezes. “Dance with me.”

She shivers under his touch, but she makes her decision. With her heart and mind racing at once, she nods and says, “Okay.”

Part Three

#ultkpop #dancewithmefic #got7 #got7 fanfic #yugyeom #kim yugyeom #kim yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom fanfic #got7 fluff #yugyeom fluff

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backandimbamon · 5 years ago

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bamon but make it halloween

im so terrible it’s literally almost a month after halloween but i had to post this. time is an illusion anyway, right guys? 😃 okay... ONWARDS.

“And you are...?” Caroline Forbes was patiently waiting for Bonnie to exit the bathroom, announcing her end of preparation for Whitmore’s biggest Halloween bash.

She bored herself with uninteresting conversation to pass the time but her patience was wearing thin, especially since the discussion was excessively snarky and headache-inducing. The absence of Stefan could really remind her just how much of a nuisance his brother could be. For Christ’s sake, why did he have to interrupt quality time with her best friend by bringing himself to the equation?

“A vampire, duh.”

Damon Salvatore donned an organic black cotton tee with black jeans, leather boots, signature bourbon whisky in hand, and a pair of cheap plastic fangs that almost lisped his speech.

“The blonde hair didn’t just come with the outfit, I take it.” He remarked, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Caroline’s Malibu Barbie costume.

“Guys, I’m almost done. Please don’t attempt to kill each other.” Bonnie’s incessant shuffling almost drowned out her voice.

“Fine.” They chimed in unison.

“Hurry, Bonnie. Caroline is doused in pink and that’s my least favorite color on earth. My eyes are starting to burn.”

“Did he just say doused?”

Caroline faced Damon and grimaced theatrically. “Honestly, you’re such a dick.”

He flashed a smile with those creepy plastic teeth. “Ninety-percent of me is, yes.”

“Gross. Did my ears just witness that... I-“ Rubbing her ears proved to be fruitless; the words had already made their stain.

Bonnie exited the bathroom and click-clacked her way to her two bickering best friends. “Before this situation gets any more awkward, I’m ready.”

And ready she was in fishnet stockings, black pointed-toe high heels, a teeny wicker broom and a dress that was tight and very short with thin shoulder straps. Her hair was long, pin-straight and down her back.To top it off, she had smoky eyes, nude glossy lips and a black hat with an exaggerated tip. An eyeful to say the least. There was no doubt that all heads would turn tonight in her favor.

“I’m a witch!”

Caroline squealed in excitement. “No Bonnie, you are that witch. Ohmygod, turn around! Look at your butt!”

“It’s kinda hard to do that,”

“Well if you could see it, you’d be amazed. You look so hot!” Caroline felt like the proudest best friend in the world, and if the night went as planned, she’d be the greatest wing woman to walk the face of the earth. Bonnie needed a boy toy, and with the help of her and that dress, Caroline’s mission would be easy peasy.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

Caroline almost forgot Damon Salvatore was also an occupant in the room, annoyingly existing beside her. She observed his mannerism and was shocked to hear no snide remarks fall from his lips. In fact, he looked a little too appreciative of Bonnie’s costume with honest blue eyes that wouldn’t leave her face or frame.

Caroline’s eyes squinted.

Noted.

“Maybe you’ve put a spell on me, Bon Bon.”

- - -

“Did it ever cross your mind that it’s difficult to get Bonnie a guy when you’re death-glaring everyone I find suitable for her? They’re starting to think you two are a couple.”

Caroline pulled Damon aside, frustrated with his counterproductive antics. It was the biggest campus party of the year and she was trying to get her best friend laid because that was what best friends did. Bonnie looked too damn good to be just hanging around with her and Damon all night, especially considering the countless amount of eye candy surrounding them.

“We are. We’re a couple of best friends, looking to have a great, wholesome, spooky night.”

The music was getting louder as the bass thumped throughout the house. Red cups, mingling bodies, and flashing lights dominated the atmosphere. He had long since ditched the plastic fangs, Caroline presumed, to dig his teeth into some innocent girl later on that night.

“Damon, seriously. Stop attempting to scare these guys away. If anyone deserves a wild and crazy night, it’s Bonnie.”

“She can be wild and crazy with us. Two vampires and one witch? We’re the wildest trio to exist.”

“Yes but Bonnie’s a grown woman with needs not even we can help with.”

“Speak for yourself.” He winked.

Caroline’s brow raised in suspicion as she crossed her arms. Her pink jacket creased at the elbows.

“Kidding, kidding. Look, one dance with my little Bon Bon and I’ll stop being a bad vampire and allow her to make small talk with brainless douche bags. I promise.”

“Make it quick.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Damon strolled over to Bonnie, interrupting her for what would be the last time, to his dismay. She was talking to some dick who had entirely too much cologne on, his vampire senses were agitated.

“I noticed you looked awfully bored, mind if I steal you away? You can just call me Life Saver.” There was a playful look in his eyes as he lightly tugged on her wrist.

The guy frowned at him and opened his mouth to speak but Damon pulled her away to the dance floor before he could respond.

“No, I’ll just call you Cock Block. He was super cute!” Bonnie hissed, with a cute frown on her face.

“Didn’t notice. Hey! I only want some one on one time with my bestie, for old time’s sake. Halloween parties bring back a certain nostalgia,” he looked off in the distance melodramatically, just above the crowd of tipsy college students.

“Of a time when we hated each other’s guts and I so desperately wanted to kill you?”

His eyes grew wide. “You feel it too?”

Bonnie stared at him and concluded that after years of knowing him, nothing could really accustom her to how frustratingly handsome he was. There was such a nonchalance that surrounded his charm, his whole demeanor screamed “I know you want to have sex with me but will you be lucky enough to get the chance,” without him saying one word. It was always there in his gaze; the party was completely out of his element with garish lights, cheap drinks, trite decorations yet somehow his devil-may-care disposition made him belong. It made spectators look. And almost every eye was on them tonight, especially for Damon, so she was truly puzzled as to why he insisted on assuming the role of watch guard. It was unlike him.

“Listen, Damon. You’ve been off this entire night... Are you okay?” There was genuine concern for him in her moss green eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and they swayed to the music.

Truth was, Damon couldn’t explain why it bothered him to such a high extent watching horny men trying to press up against Bonnie. Hell, if the roles were reversed, he would undoubtedly fight to be the first in line to take her home. He understood it, she was gorgeous and sexy and the way her legs looked when she wore heels and fishnets was a sin.

Yet she was also his best friend and maybe it bothered him so much because a random guy didn’t know Bonnie like he did, that they never could know her the way he had. Never sat with her, talked her through her tears. Had never been miserably stranded with her, and trapped in a prison world for months. Caroline couldn’t even compete with him in the experiences they shared and she was technically her best friend long before he came into the picture. He was all over Bonnie, she even smelled a little like him, was wearing head to toe black more often, had a bit of his cynical humor.

He couldn’t picture another male that fit into the equation even for one night. These strangers had never seen her before so how could they possibly think they could honor her the way she should be honored, even if it was for a one night stand.

God, what the hell was he thinking? He was starting to sound like Stefan in his own damn mind.

“Damon?” She lightly scratched at the hair on the nape of his neck, and the small gesture alone awakened far too many electrical impulses inside of him.

Elena, Elena, Elena.

His eyelids fluttered. “Hmm?”

The thought of Elena was almost intrusive because all he could really see was Bonnie. Bonnie irritated with him, exasperated, then understanding and pensive. Bonnie speaking.

Her mouth was moving, yes, but he was distracted. She was doing it subconsciously, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and it was damn near driving him up the wall in the best way possible. Bonnie made him feel so comfortable always, everything was natural with her. She felt like home.

Elena, Elena, Elena.

But Elena wasn’t here and he knew that if he hadn’t picked Bonnie over her, his life wouldn’t feel like his- it wouldn’t belong to him. Plus, they could fix it once they found a cure. Someone would undo that linking spell and his best friend and his girlfriend would both be in his life simultaneously.

For now, Bonnie was home, he couldn’t live without her, so yes he would continue to stop any guy trying to get next to her because they didn’t deserve her. No one did. She was too sweet and pure, and seeing someone talk to her who wasn’t him or someone else she loved made something flare up inside him, something a lot like-

“...Like jealousy.”

“I’m not jealous!”

There was a pregnant pause, the fingertips at his neck slowed.

“...What?”

“What?”

“I said that I think Caroline’s a little jealous of our friendship. It’s like we’ve obviously gotten closer because of everything we’ve been through and Caroline might resent you just a teensy bit for it.”

“Oh yeah, she’s been so mean to me all night, Bon Bon. She barely allowed me to dance with you.”

“That probably has more to do with you shooting down every guy that comes my way.”

“I have not,”

“Mhmm.”

“No, Bon, I’ve been shooting down every asshole that comes your way. I believe there is a difference.”

“So every guy I talk to is an asshole?”

“Precisely,” he said, with a wiggle of his brows.

“You must be the king of them.”

He gave a mock wounded expression.

Her pretty face grew serious. “I know it’s been hard. The whole decision thing. Me or Elena. I miss her so much so I can’t even imagine how you must feel. She’s everything to you.” He could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Thank you. In all honesty, I accepted the fact that I would die because of the ultimatum but you really shocked me, Damon.”

Maybe that was it, he was acting strange because he missed a pair of doe brown eyes, olive skin and long legs. He missed a raspy voice always carrying the two syllables in his name like it was too heavy to pronounce. He missed the smell of her on him, a fusion of his natural spicy je ne sais quoi and her fruity shampoo.

That’s what was making him act weird. Not the thought of smokey green eyes glazed with flirtation, batting at the expense of a baffling fool. Or brown slender fingers outstretched, casting love spells on men who could never match her energy. And surely not the thought, tucked away in the recesses of his mind, of Bonnie Shelia Bennett, the little witch, opening her arms and legs to someone not worthy enough to lick the bottom of her shoe.

And he didn’t know why if he could picture one contender, it would be himself. Like if there was an invisible bar to set the standard, it’d be him. It’s not as if he thought of Bonnie- like that- because he hadn’t, it was just he was the only male in her life that treated her least crappiest next to maybe his brother. But Stefan was Caroline’s. And Damon...well he couldn’t imagine Bonnie welcoming someone else inside of her when she felt so much like home to him.

Wait, what?

If those words had tumbled out of his mouth she probably would’ve slapped him. She wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers, no matter how close they were, no matter how long they danced, no matter how many times he made her laugh. That was his friend, and he should politely remove himself if he was blocking her from having a good night, regardless of the pain he would feel from her absence.

He should. But.

“Damon.” Bonnie had a stern look on her face and it was then that he realized his fangs were out and his eyes were veined.

“Shit,”

“Seriously, what is going on with you? Are you hungry?”

“No! I was thinking.”

“Of tearing into my flesh?” She placed her hands on her hips and tapped a pointed toe.

“No? But.. since your mind is so clearly in the gutter,” he did that thing where he paced around Bonnie like a predator stalking its prey. Pinpointing her to the spot to be examined, he was on his second lap of encircling her when he halted behind her, smoothed her long hair to one shoulder and admired the slope of skin from ear to collarbone. He took the initiative to push the envelope by trailing his nose alongside the curve of her neck, light enough to give goosebumps. The magic that was bubbling under the surface of skin was almost enough to make him salivate.

She was unmoved, like there was a predictability Damon possessed that didn’t scare her, or even surprise her anymore.

He hated it. He felt neutered, like the monster under the bed who the kid was no longer afraid of because monsters didn’t really exist, only dust bunnies.

“I could sink a fang in, to really christen the night.”

“And I could send your ass burning to flames, for old time’s sake.”

“Kinky.”

His hands circled around her wrist to hold her still, because if he kept Bonnie in place in reality, she wouldn’t be able to run free in his mind. Damon needed control, he needed to remind himself of who he was. And maybe, just maybe, teasing Bonnie would make him feel as if he had leverage over her. Like he had won something even if Bonnie went back to her dorm with someone else.

“No really, Bon Bon. You taste so good.” He inhaled her scent as he spoke in her ear. “Why do you think I gave you that nickname?”

Despite his internal conflict, he couldn’t fight his bad habits: The longer he spent with her, coiled around her like a snake, the more men would assume she wasn’t available tonight, and sure, he was being a toxic friend but he didn’t care. Damon reveled in his toxicity because it left him less lonely, less abandoned.

“Oh, Damon, don’t kid yourself. You know you’re an old man. You can’t afford too many rises.” There was a smirk in her voice.

“I can teach you all about rises and more, Bon Bon.”

“Wouldn’t you just love that?”

He really wanted to push her, see how far she could carry this conversation. And see how much alike they actually were.

“I would love that for you, yes.” He pushed one skinny shoulder strap down and lightly pressed his mouth where it once was. “Then I could really find out if you taste as good as you look.”

Her knee buckled before she sent it back in its rightful position. He noticed her body was so warm, he could hear the blood sloshing around in her veins. The reactions Damon perceived as small victories for him. If there was a scoreboard it would read: Damon 1, Bonnie 0. One hand cupped her neck lightly while the other remained at her wrist, he continued to speak into her ear.

“You know, I would stop but something tells me you’re enjoying this too much.” He pressed his thigh between hers.

She squirmed and her voice dropped octaves. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s not what I think. More so what I smell.”

Her mouth shut with an audible click of teeth.

“I bet you make the prettiest face when you-“

The feeling of his brain splitting in half was so unwelcome that his hands immediately shot up as if he could turn it off. Bonnie seemed to have an immense presence; the perfect picture of witchcraft prowess and sex appeal and if his brain didn’t feel like it was broken, he would’ve been a proud masochist. He was on one knee in an odd proposal of pain, and then it stopped. He pulled himself up and attempted to recover from his aneurysm as if it never occurred.

Damon 1, Bonnie 1.

She straightened out her dress, dusted it off to exude the message that she had no intention of getting down and dirty but she did what she must. He felt like a child and that aneurysm was one hell of a scolding.

Her voice was still a bit deep, but considerably more clear. “Honestly, you should hang out around the dining room, I see some girls that are more your type.”

He followed her gaze to a group of Elena lookalikes.

Damon possessed a sharp, unreadable expression in his gaze. “And what’s that?”

“Hmm.. selfish. Insecure.” They held each other’s gaze in a Western Showdown fashion, with an unspoken challenge sitting in the open space between them. Bonnie gave him the last once over before she strutted off, trapping his eyes with the sway of her hips.

Bonnie 2, Damon 0.

When he looked back up, Caroline was giving him the glare of the century as he slowly backed up to melt away in the oven of meaningless costumed bodies.

It was going to be a long night.

#bamon #my fic #bonnie bennett #bonnie #bonnie x damon #damon x bonnie #damon salvatore #tvd #the vampire diaries #bamon fic #bamon fanfiction #bamon fanfic #bamon ff #fanfiction

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missjanjie · 5 years ago

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Let Me Hear Your Body Talk | Jan x Nicky

Title: Let Me Hear Your Body Talk Summary: Nicky hates exercise classes. She hates cardio. Yet, she shows up to class after class for one reason only - the instructor, Jan. Word Count: 1.5k Relationship(s): Jan x Nicky Rating: E Notes: big thanks to @janssports and @imalwaysaslutfordrag for beta-ing this

Read on AO3

Gigi looked at Nicky oddly as they put their jackets and purses in their respective lockers. “You know, you don’t have to come if you’re gonna look miserable the whole time.”

Nicky shook her head and put a sweatband around her head, tying the 80s-esque look she was going for together. “No, no I do,” she said simply.

“I’m just saying, this is a lot of effort to go through just because you’re horny for the instructor.”

“I am not!” she huffed dramatically, hand to her chest. “Physical fitness is very important, Gigi.”

Gigi just chuckled as she turned to walk into the studio. “Oh, I know you’re looking for some… physicality.”

She pouted as she followed behind her friend, red-faced before the class even began, and took her spot so she had a clear view of the instructor.

Jan was the aerobics instructor straight out of a VHS work-out tape. Her Barbie-blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, she had an athletic, feminine build and a bright, enthusiastic expression.

The energy she brought into a room was immediately palpable. Suddenly, everyone was happy to be there and ready to start exercising. Even though it was eight in the morning.

That really spoke to Nicky’s dedication to the class (namely its leader), as she was far from a morning person. “No one wakes up before ten in France,” she whined when Gigi dragged her to the class the first time.

But perhaps her friend was onto something, and while Nicky stayed in the corner, drowning in her oversized anime t-shirt and sweatpants, she started showing up to every subsequent class with carefully curated outfits. She’d even tried doing makeup before Gigi reminded her she would sweat it all off.

“Wow, full house today! Glad to see so many familiar faces,” Jan chirped brightly and Nicky swore they made eye contact. She clapped her hands together and continued. “Okay, I listened to your music requests, suggest-jans, if you will, and put some of them into the mix. So, let’s get started with the warm-up.”

Upbeat pop music filled the room as Jan led the class in light, easy exercises. “Great job guys! Keep it up, I’m gonna come around and check on your form.”

Nicky’s heart started racing, and she knew it wasn’t from the cardio. She heard sneakers against the sleek wood floor and watched Jan help Gigi out of the corner of her eye. Oh god, she was next.

“Oh, sweetie, your hips are all wonky,” Jan observed, standing behind Nicky and placing her hands on her hips. “You want your spine to be aligned with your shoulders and hips,” she explained, re-positioning her body with her own just close enough. “Are you wearing perfume?”

The question almost didn’t register to Nicky, preoccupied with how nice Jan’s hands felt on her, how she longed to be even closer. But just in time to save face, she answered, “Yes, is it too much?”

“No,” she assured, leaning in just a bit closer to her neck, inhaling gently. “It’s really nice,” she hummed, moving to the next person before Nicky had a chance to reply.

Not that Nicky could have replied, as it felt like her throat had tightened too much for sound to escape if she opened her mouth. Her body froze in the position Jan had left her in, and it wasn’t until the instructor was at the front of the room that she was able to get back into the rhythm.

The thing was, Nicky hated cardio. She relied predominantly on her fast metabolism and dancing to keep her model figure. Whatever exercise she did do was on her own, it was too awkward to do a group. But Jan was charming, captivating, Nicky found herself hanging on every word of encouragement, eyes trained to follow her every moment.

And maybe Gigi had a point and she was incredibly attracted to her on top of that.

By the time class ended, Nicky had decided she had nothing to lose by taking a chance. It’s not like this was her gym - she’d been using Gigi’s guest passes. “I’ll catch up,” she said to her friend.

“I won’t hold my breath,” Gigi retorted, rolling her eyes as she left.

Not that Nicky noticed, as she was trying to saunter to the other end of the studio as casually as she could. “Great class today,” she hummed.

“Thanks,” Jan said, but the friendly smile on her lips didn’t quite match the look in her eyes. “You know, I do one-on-one training too. Gigi said I should mention that.”

Nicky leaned against the wall. “Oh did she? What else did she say, hm?”

“Oh,” she let her hand run along the other woman’s forearm. “I think you know.” She winked.

So, that’s how it was then. Nicky supposed she could deal with her loose-lipped friend later. Instead, she stepped closer, draping her arms around Jan’s neck. “I don’t suppose you could fit in a quick session now, then?”

Jan giggled and looked over her shoulder. “We’ve got an hour before another class comes in, I think we can manage.” She jogged over to lock the door, and when she turned around, Nicky was right behind her with a smirk.

And Nicky didn’t want to waste any time, perhaps still running on the adrenaline from the workout (she really did try). She jumped up, wrapping her legs around Jan’s waist and kissing her deeply. One hand gripped her shoulder while the other pulled the scrunchie from Jan’s hair so she could tangle her fingers through it.

Jan backed her against the wall for support and didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. She braced her hand against the wall while the other kept a secure grip on Nicky’s waist.

They were both already hot and sweaty, making it a bit more difficult to peel their form-fitting athletic wear off, but it was all the more satisfying when they were free of them.

“Tell me what you want,” Jan breathed out between heated kisses, letting her lips travel along her jaw and down her neck.

“Put me down, I wanna make you feel good,” Nicky directed, her voice soft and a bit breathy. She steadied herself as she was set on the floor and pushed herself to her knees, nudging Jan’s legs apart and kissing up her inner thighs, then teasingly dragging her tongue along her slit.

Jan bit down on her lip, a breathy moan slipping out. She gently raked her fingers through Nicky’s short, blonde hair, knocking the sweatband off in the process.

Nicky instantly fell in love with the sound of her moans and wanted more. She braced her hand on Jan’s thigh as she circled her tongue around her clit. As she lapped and sucked at it, her free hand moved up, working in one finger, then another, thrusting slowly and steadily.

“Fuck, fuck, Nicky…” she moaned out sharply, her eyes squeezed shut and her head tilted back. Her hips rocked slowly, until she was trying to reach her pace, the grip on Nicky’s hair tightening.

The way her body trembled, the high pitch her voice took on when she moaned her name, it drove Nicky absolutely wild. She had to press her thighs together to relieve some of the aching arousal she’d felt from it.

Jan managed to open her eyes long enough to look at the gorgeous sight in front of her. She could even see the other girl’s attempt at controlling her arousal, something she found both cute and very, very hot.

That, and the obvious skill Nicky had made it impossible for her to hold off very long and her hips pushed forward as she rode out her orgasm. But she’d hardly let her come up for air before she was down on her knees as well. She kissed her, then lay down. “Want you to sit on my face.”

There probably wasn’t a request in the world that Nicky would’ve denied from her. She shifted and straddled her, letting out a sharp moan, as well as a slew of French swear words, at the sensation of Jan’s tongue slipping inside.

Jan couldn’t help but smirk to herself, gripping onto her thighs while still letting her ride her face. She had no idea what Nicky was saying half the time, but she would be damned if it wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

And Nicky had lost all sense of seductive refinement. She was eager, needy, rocking against her like her life depended on it, enough so that when the orgasm finally hit, she all but collapsed when she was spent.

“Damn,” Jan breathed out, scooping Nicky into her arms until they both calmed down.

“I’ll fucking say.” She chuckled breathlessly. “I need a shower, but uh… I’d love to get your number. You know, should I ever need another session.”

She laughed softly and pecked her lips. “I’ll always have room in my schedule for you.”

#sportsdoll #jan x nicky #idc if its just me and three people shipping this im still sailing the gd boat #rpdr rpf

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quixotic-writer · 5 years ago

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Pretend That You Love Me

Song inspo: Love fool — Postmodern Jukebox

Summary: Natasha has been sent to a Gala on a mission to gather some info on a gang ring. After being noticed alone, she grabs an unsuspecting Q to help her blend and something ignites inside the two of them once their evening is over.

———————————————————————

“I can’t quite see why you’ve decided to send ME in on this undercover mission. Why couldn’t I be one of the security guards? A waiter maybe??” I say in a hushed whisper to my mission director who has me wired up for the evening. “I don’t do fancy crap and I know you and chairman know this. This dress is BUGGING me, these heels are killing my ankles, and I never thought my hair could ever defy gravity like this.” I keep tripping over the cherry red floor length ballgown I had to wear to the event, pulling and adjusting to ensure nothing pops out and fluffing it out to make sure I don’t trip again and I look presentable. As I walk through the halls I begin to struggle walking in the pencil thin heels I was forced to wear. “God I can’t wait for my feet to be on flat ground again. I’m not a fucking barbie.”

“Well, Natasha, you’re the only agent that they probably won’t recognize out on the floor in this environment. Other top agent’s identities have been compromised. Besides, you’re rather unassuming.” Stephen’s voice comes through my earpiece. I roll my eyes and continue to walk through the crowded halls of the extravagant gala.

If i’m going to be on this mission, I may as well have some fun. I stroll to the drink station where elegant wine glasses are filled with bubbling champagne. I stare for a moment at the liquid gold and pick one up, swirl the glass around lightly, and take a well deserved sip. As I swallow I feel the carbonated alcoholic beverage burn my throat a little. Shivers rush through my veins and I feel better already. I just needed to ease up a bit. While I walk through with my drink in tow, I scan each face I pass I get to ensure i’m not having too much of a close encounter with faces from the files for this case. If I get too close or recognized, that’s another identity compromised which will make this case even harder.

“any visual on the targets.” I jump at the sound of Stephen’s voice ringing through my ears. I look down to my clutch purse and grab my phone out beginning to quicken my pace as I continue walking through the event. I hold it up to my ear pretending to be on a call.

“It seems as though you WANT me to run into problems. You can’t just ask me question like that and make me seem like a psycho talking to myself. You say everyone is on high alert that are in the ring, i’m trying to blend as best as I can. Now only give me information of value and stop asking questions knowing that if I answer, it could cause issue with what we have unfolding right now. Think before you speak because if not I will ensure it’s not my ass on a spit roasting and turning over a fire.” I pretend to hang up my phone and look around to the people around me, all of which quickly avert their gaze.

“Harsh.” Is all Stephen had to say in response. Good. Any more out of his mouth and i’d be cooking him for dinner.

I brush myself off and straighten up before going to the ballroom where a whole soirée is going on. Ballroom dancing, people with champagne in hand chatting with voices that filled the room. Everyone had someone to be with and somewhere to be making me feel socially out of place. I walk along to the edge of the dance floor where a stand up table is and just take in the faces of everyone around me.

Half choking on my champagne I spot a whole flock of gang members all cleaned up eyeing everyone out. They’re not good at blending, but they have more noticeable tells that something is afoot. Are they even trying? Their eyes darting about, talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers. I can already tell they’re peeking around for anyone suspicious or out of place. I already know I stick out like a sore thumb but at least I know I can put on a brave face and blend better than they can.

“I see you’ve spotted them too, I didn’t want to alarm you. Play it cool don’t blow your cover.” Thanks for that friendly reminder Stephen I thought to myself as I roll my eyes so hard it felt as though they could have fallen out. I feel myself begin to sweat but I do my best to put on a poker face and pretend like I hadn’t noticed them. The sound of the swing band is almost deafening and with each pluck of the deep tone cello I feel my heart pound out of my chest.

They won’t stop staring at me and I can feel the eye contact begin to burn holes into my skin, but I just continue to look at the dance floor and others at tables around me. I look around to see if I can start a friendly conversation with fellow gala goers to make myself a little less noticeable. There’s a large group standing around talking and laughing together, walking into that will make me stick out more since i’ll mess up their social dynamic. There’s another guy at the table to the right of me, but he’s too focused on his phone and he has a ring on. I don’t feel like getting cussed out by his wife if she’s here. But, I spot a rather handsome man at a table across from me with short slicked back salt and pepper hair and a bit of scruff. No wedding ring and no girl around him, seems single, an older man maybe late 30s. Seems like the more subtle option, should anything go awry he’ll be the one I go to.

“Better move looks like they’re closing in.” Almost as if on cue with my train of thought, I take a glance from the corner of my eye and see them whispering and pointing. They place down their drinks with heads turned in my direction. They’ll be pouncing any moment soon. Way to be subtle boys.

“Shit.” I whisper to myself, just then I make eye contact with the gentleman I was eyeing up. Perfect, now’s my chance. I give him a sultry look and a devilish smile and walk over to him. “Hey there handsome, what are you doing at an event like this.” I drag my hand across his and he looks at me distraught and almost dumbfounded by my sudden appearance and approach.

“Couple’a friends umm dragged me out here uhh. I vaguely know the host, an acquaintance. I didn’t want to be rude so I uuh, thought to pop in for a bit. Don’t believe I’ve met you before. My name is Brian Quinn, but please call me Q.” He says stumbling over his words, I see the men beginning to close the gap between us out of the corner of my eye. No time for formalities and small talk now, I need to make moves before trouble breaks out. I look Q in the eyes and grab his arm and guide him to the dance floor where a cacophony of intertwined bodies swing and sway about to the music. I hold him steady with some distance between us as we begin to be sucked into the middle of the dance floor where our identities are lost.

“Listen i’m in a heap of trouble right now and if you could pretend this is normal that would be greatly appreciated.” I say sternly as I follow the motions of fellow dancers forcing Q to follow in suit nervously.

“Trouble?” He asks with a twinge of fear in his voice. He swallows hard as paranoia begins setting into his skin and his eyes look around for who the danger is.

“Keep up the act and stop looking so nervous and we’ll be safe. You don’t need to know more. Just follow my lead.” I put my mission training from that ballroom dance workshop to good use and begin to match energies with the crowd surrounding us.

“I don’t really dance much, so if I step on some toes here i’m sorry.” His eyes dart to the ground in attempts to watch the movement of my feet and match speed, tempo, and patterns of the dance. He stumbles every couple of counts but makes his best attempts. But soon, halfway through the song he begins picking up the pattern and no longer needs to trace my feet for guidance. His confidence soars as he looks at me a smiles like a child that has just learned how to ride his bike. The space between our bodies close as we become more comfortable and it feels almost natural.

As we continue to waltz about, I continue to look around searching for the faces of danger.

“You’re in the clear for now Nats. But they’re circling the perimeter like vultures. Good recovery, though.” Stephen comes over my earpiece and I almost jump at the sound of his voice, he had been quiet for a while that I almost forgot I was on a mission.

“What’s with the earpiece?” Q says inquisitively. Eyes narrowed in on my ear with the earpiece in it.

“What are you talking about?” I try and dodge a bullet on this one, but it seems as though there’s no escaping the grasp of his observant nature.

“I work with this kind of equipment. Plus you jumped out of your skin even though no one around here has said a word.” He keeps his volume low to not alert others of his discovery. “I also know there’s cameras everywhere. There, there, and there.” His eyes point out each of the cameras we had planted in the room for visual evidence. I feel color flush from my face. Is he working with them? He wasn’t on file though. Is my mission compromised?? My eyes squint at him and I begin creating a distance between us should I have to run.

The song comes to a close and Q’s forehead is noticeably shiny with a thin layer of sweat.

“I’m guessing you haven’t danced like that before?” I say teasing him trying to avoid further questions that could reveal much more.

“I haven’t danced ever, I don’t dance. This is new and nerve wracking especially with a pretty lady like you. I suppose I am ill prepared to swoon a woman on the dance floor. You did a fantastic job taking the lead though.” He gives me a flirtatious raise of an eyebrow and a sly smile. I couldn’t help but blush at the compliment.

Suddenly I felt the harsh grasp of a hand on my right shoulder. No sound comes out of me but my eyes go wide like saucers.

“You’re coming with me.” A deep voice bellows out behind me. I send my elbow rocketing backwards right into the guy’s gut, he wheezes in pain and steps back releasing me to hold his abdomen in pain. I look up to Q who takes a small step back, mouth agape in shock. The crowd around us stops all movement and creates a circle around us watching as everything unfolds.

Q’s face quickly shifts to outrage, walks swiftly past me grabbing the guy by the collar, reeling his arm back for a wind up and socking the guy square in his face. The force of the blow causes Q to release the gang member and he tumbles back holding his eye which is sure to be black in mere minutes. Blood begins to stream from his nose as he seethes in pain.

In that moment I realized and came to the conclusion that this guy isn’t working for them. A wave of relief rushes over me knowing I don’t have to fear him or his intentions. He just punched a guy for me without question.

“Leave her the FUCK alone. Keep your hands to yourself you disgusting CREEP.” Q spits out. Soon enough security is surrounding us. I see a familiar faces of fellow crew members and I feel a hot wave of shame knowing what’ll happen next.

“Nats security guards are clear and safe, they’ll probably kick you out but you’re lucky this guy set this up so you seem like a victim so they won’t be alerting authorities.”

“Shut the fuck up Stephen. didn’t need the extra info.” I whisper so no one could hear. Q turns back around and looks at my shoulders. I almost thought he had heard me, but it seemed like he was inspecting it, then he looked into my eyes. My heart thumps a bit when my eyes met his. “What?” I say chuckling.

“Just making sure you’re not hurt. You aren’t hurt, right?” He says dragging his fingers delicately across my shoulder and tilting his head to check if any marks and bruises were there.

“I’m fine really. That was a pretty hard blow you served.” I place my hand on his and it rests upon my shoulder for a moment. Closure. Security was picking up the guy and guiding him out, he spewed profanities in our direction as he was dragged off. My eyes redirect around me, the others that were thinking of closing in begin to retreat one by one seeing that too much negative attention was brought upon the situation. I sigh in relief, however, still disappointed as I didn’t get any information I was sent to gather.

Security then approaches Q and I.

“Ma’am, sir. As per rules regulated by this evening’s host, i’m going to have to ask you to leave the premise immediately following your actions.” Q’s eyebrows furrow and I can feel his anger ramping up again.

“Why are we needing to leave when that guy had his hands on her? He was a pervert I bet and you’re kicking us out when we were defending ourselves?” His arms flail as he rages on about the encounter we just dealt with.

“Sir. This is your last warning to leave immediately if not further action and force will be taken.” Q doesn’t say much else, just looks to me and I follow him out of the party not wanting to make much more of a scene. As we exit, all eyes are on us and I feel humiliated for getting kicked out of a high profile event. This has never happened to me before in my 2 years of working field work for the agency.

I stand outside next to Q on the entrance steps to the venue overlooking the busy road in front of us.

“How did you do that?” I say breaking our silence.

“Do what?” He said with a light chuckle.

“The cameras. my earpiece. Who do you work for?” I say as my defenses raise a little, still scared that he could be working for forces unbeknownst to me. He holds his hands up in defense mode and his eyebrows raise.

“I work for a TV producer. I do a dumb show with my friends where we use the same equipment. I know it when I see it. I don’t have any James Bond type shit going on I promise you that, although that’d be pretty badass.” I’ll have to do some research on this guy later. His skills are good and almost scary. I let my defenses down again and reflect on the evening we so happened to share together.

“I want to apologize to you, I must have ruined your evening. Thank you for helping me.” I stare at the ground embarrassed that he was so quickly roped into something he has no knowledge of.

“Do not apologize. My mother raised me to do what’s right. He placed his hands on you and I saw the look on your face and it didn’t sit right. I got mad and took things into my hands. Things like this aren’t something where you should just stand by and watch, you need to take action.” He says as he rubs the back of his head. “Besides, I didn’t want to come out to this gala anyway. I just popped in for a moment. Had you not approached me, I would have left sooner.”

A sleek black Tesla pulls up and out steps Stephen, disgust riddled his face and I let out a deep sigh and rub the bridge of my nose between my fore finger and thumb. Of all the people they could send to retrieve me they HAD to send Stephen. That explains why it’s been radio silent on his end.

“I’m guessing that’s your ride?” Q says looking into my eyes stepping to me closer. His body language says nervous, the twiddling of his fingers on his thigh and the way he slowly speaks to ensure all he wanted to say got out properly. When I look in his eyes, they say ‘I want to make a move.’

“It is, sadly. You know Q, you’re a hell of a guy for doing something like that. Takes guts. You made my evening a fantastic one for the brief moment we have known each other. I appreciate it greatly.” I say stepping in closer to him. We were at this point mere inches away from each other and I could feel something there sparking, as though connector cables began to take hold of my heart.

I take one more glance to Stephen and turn back to Q. I’ve got nothing to lose, what is Stephen gonna do about it? Quickly but gently cupping his cheeks in my hands, I bring him in closer and plant my lips on his with eyes fluttering closed. It was then where it felt like lightening had struck my heart and thunder was pouring through my pores. I feel soul ties forming between us and it feels bittersweet because I don’t know if i’ll ever see him again. I pull away and his eyes seem to glisten in wonder as though he feels everything I do.

“jusqu'à ce que nos chemins se croisent à nouveau, my darling.” I graze my hands down his chest and wink. I look to his lips and my lipstick had stained them, I giggle. The corners of his lips curve up and the look in his eyes never go away as I step down and hop into the car. With one final glance to Q, I was off on the road again.

“That was a mistake Nats, and you know it.” Stephen utters out. I cross my arms over my chest and huff.

“Bite me why don’tcha. I can’t have one good thing, huh, Stephen? I bet you’re just jealous I got more action than you ever will.” He shakes his head, eyes narrowed in on the road and we sit in silence.

Meanwhile, back where Q was still standing: He watched as the car took off into the night, heart pounding out of his chest, face hot with emotions he hadn’t felt in so long.

“I didn’t even get her name.”

#brian quinn #impractical jokers #brian quinn imagine #suki writes #impractical jokers imagine #fluff

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x-ximenas · 5 years ago

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Love Means Trouble: Chapter 4

Prompt: Hurricane by Halsey, which you can find in this playlist.

Pairing: OC/Nikki Sixx

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, near smut and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.

Word Count: 4,712 words

A/N: All I seem to do is apologize, i know, but college is killing me and draining me slowly -read quickly- Med school is heavy, folks. Anyways, finally finished this chapter, hallelujah! Also, if you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just talk to me!

A/N 2: I made a NEW spotify playlist where you can find the songs I mention in the story.

// Prologue // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter //

———————————————————————————————————–

“Well, hello Circe…”

Circe's breath hitched as her name was so naturally spelt by Nikki's lips. His face held some smugness to it, he had finally cracked the code he had been waiting so desperately to crack. Her name.

"H-How?" Circe stuttered, shock clearly written on her face.

"Close your mouth, we don't want any flies going into that pretty mouth of yours, babe" Circe's mouth snapped shut after Nikki's comment.

"And... to answer your question, Tommy" as Nikki said that he flopped down on Circe's couch, who hadn't moved from the entryway nor closed the door.

"Fuck" finally, Circe reacted. She slammed the door shut, her eyes rolling at the mere thought of Tommy talking more than he should.

"I'm going to kill that kid one of these days" She muttered to herself, but Nikki heard her loud and clear.

"Well, I gotta say that if I had known that you were Tommy's Circe I would've listened to him more attentively" Nikki said teasingly, but not attempting to lighten Circe's mood.

"Did he also tell you where I live?" she questioned, ignoring his comment entirely as she went through her cabinets in search for her bottle of Jack. She knew it wasn't the best idea after last night's little trip, but she desperately needed the burn of the alcohol to wake her up.

"No, that was Vince, actually" Nikki kept on mocking her distress, enjoying the change in banter.

"I'm going to kill Barbie too then" Circe spoke louder this time, then she opened the bottle of Tequila she found, the large gulp she took made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight.

"Circe... hmmm, it fits you" Nikki said to himself after a brief moment of silence, Circe snorted before taking another drink from the bottle.

"And how do you even know it fits me? Hm?" She asked, walking out her small kitchen before sitting on the couch opposite from Nikki. Her eyebrows rested highly on her forehead, inquiry all across her features.

"I just know it does, call it... a sixth sense" Nikki smiled at her, then he took the bottle of tequila from Circe's grasp. Said action made Circe groan out loud and stand up from her place.

"Yeah, whatever. I call bluff on your sixth sense" she dismissed his comment as she took the needle off the record, trying to be as careful as she could to avoid scratching her Bauhaus' vinyl.

Nikki observed her as she gracefully moved around her apartment in search of another vinyl to play. Circe rummaged through the piles of albums, her brain not cooperating with her at the moment. She had no idea what to play and despite how unpleased she was with Nikki being at her place, she still wanted him to like the music meant to fill in the gaps.

After a few seconds of indecisiveness where Circe's brain couldn't choose between Queen's The Game and Siouxsie and the Banshees' Kaleidoscope, she finally settled for Siouxsie. Circe was delicate when placing the needle on the vinyl, she almost looked as if she was holding a breath. Nikki kept on watching her with curious eyes, his interest was rising as he followed her movements. He didn't think she would be into this kind of music, so different from what Mötley played and from what he had caught her dancing to on their last rendez-vous.

Nikki caught Circe smile to herself once the music started. The almost unnerving sound of the instruments added more tension to the atmosphere. And Siouxsie's strangely calm voice gave the atmosphere some edge.

"So, why did you never tell me your name?" Nikki said, speaking above the music without much effort.

"For fun" was Circe's short answer.

Circe looked everywhere but Nikki's direction as she reached for her pack of cigarettes. He, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at her, clearly tired of the game she was playing. It had been drawn out for far too long, almost half a year to be exact.

"Fun?" he questioned after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, fun" Circe shrugged before lighting her cigarette.

"You had me playing along just because you wanted some fun?" he asked. He was annoyed, but she took joy in that.

"Yeah, exactly. But you can't tell me you didn't have fun as well, can you Nikki?" she answered with a smug smile, finally feeling more in control of the situation at hand. Then, their eyes met.

Nikki's olive-coloured eyes were lit up with a strange mixture of curiosity, surprise and irritation. Said eyes were framed by his dark eyebrows, that had shot up his forehead. Contrarily, Circe's espresso-coloured eyes were filled with mischief.

"It's true, I can't" he answered, leaning back on the couch.

"But it doesn't mean I'm not tired of it"

"Pity, I was enjoying our game. So sad you're getting tired of it" Circe mocked. A fake pout barely covering the growing smirk.

"Might have to get myself someone who can actually play along" she kept on mocking. She took a puff out her cigarette before she grabbed the bottle of tequila, taking a large gulp right after.

"It's not that I can't play along, the problem here is that you're not playing fair" Nikki leaned forward, grabbing Circe's chin between his fingers.

"And you do? Play fair, I mean" Circe's gaze was unwavering as she looked at Nikki, tilting her head to the side.

Circe took Nikki's silence as her answer and such silence made Circe's ego grow a smidge bigger.

She hummed.

"I see. So, what do you propose, Nikki?" Circe said, sitting on the couch and leaning closer to Nikki. Her head was tilted to the side, and her left eyebrow rose in anticipation.

"What do you seek, Circe?" He retorted, avoiding her question.

"Debauchery, destruction..." Circe answered, her tongue quickly running over her teeth, staying a little longer on her sharp canines. Nikki mirrored her expression.

"That's all I ever look for, that's all I'm good at"

"I'm not scared of a little destruction, I embrace it" Nikki stated, equally as intense.

"What are you trying to tell me, Nikki?" Circe decided to play dumb.

"I don't think I need to say anything"

"You don't, but I want you to spell it out for me. Tell me what you want"

Nikki stood up from his seat, Circe following suit. Her heart was racing, the silence that lingered this time wasn't of her liking. She took notice of how Siouxsie's voice was starting to lower in volume, the side A of the vinyl coming to a swift end.

Nikki approached her with long strides and once he was in front of her, mere inches separating them, he kissed her. Nikkis large and calloused hands cupped the soft skin of Circe's cheek, said touch made Circe melt. His lips were chapped, but Circe didn't really care. She was too focused on the non-spoken answer he was giving her with the rough clash of their lips.

It was heated, and probably not meant to last long, but there they were, fighting over who lead the kiss. Who was meant to follow who? No one was truly sure, they didn't seem to care.

Nikki's left hand moved to rest on the side of her neck, he appeared to recall her reaction last time he placed it there. Circe gasped once his cold fingers made contact with the heated skin of her neck. Nikki took this opportunity to sneak his tongue inside her mouth briefly.

Soon enough, they broke the kiss. Their foreheads touched as they decided to stay in their position, so close they could breathe the same air. Circe's eyes were still shut, her heart lingering on the moment they just shared. Nikki observed her soft features, from her plump and reddened lips to her eyelashes that graced the skin of her cheeks.

"Is that enough of an answer?" He whispered, no trace of sarcasm. Circe then opened her eyes, somehow the few strands of gold in her chocolate eyes looked brighter this time.

"I'm not sure" Circe laughed, it was genuine for once.

Then, they kissed again. This kiss was almost feverish, not as sweet as the last. And their kisses only grew hotter as they became more frequent and closer to one another. Soon enough, they were tugging at each other's clothes, their fingers itching to take them off.

The first thing to be removed was Circe's crop top, followed by Nikki's shirt. Circe started to pull Nikki to her room by the waistband of his loose-fitted jeans, using this as her chance to remove the belt that held them in their place.

Then, someone knocked on her door. Circe groaned out in annoyance and she felt Nikki smirk over the sensitive skin of her neck, skin he was kissing and biting in search of her soft spot.

"Ignore them" he mumbled.

"I really want to, but if it's Tommy there's no such thing as privacy"

And then, almost in cue, Tommy opened the door. He was carrying a bottle of Jack and a bag of food meant to be shared with her.

"Hey, Ce!" Tommy said gleefully, his brain not registering Nikki's presence.

"H-hey" Circe said back, adjusting the bra strap Nikki had slipped off.

Circe left Nikki in her room, heading back to her living room. On the way there, she picked up her crop top from the floor and put it on. Once she was close to Tommy the smell of hamburgers made hunger settle in her stomach, she hadn't eaten anything in almost 20 hours, maybe less.

"Oh, fuck Tommy, you're a goddamn lifesaver" Circe moaned as she took the wrapped up burger that he was handing her.

"This is to gulp it down" Tommy said, shaking the half-empty bottle of Jack.

"Yeah, thought as much. I don't think Tequila tastes good with burgers, man" Circe answered with a mouthful of food. Tommy laughed, taking a bite out of his burger.

They kept eating in silence, Circe momentarily forgetting that Nikki was in the apartment until he decided to sit on the armrest of the couch Tommy was sitting in.

"Hey, Sixx" Tommy said, his brain stopping for a minute, finally connecting the dots. Circe wasn't wearing a shirt a few minutes ago and Nikki was just sitting there, shirtless.

"Wait a fucking minute? What the fuck is going on?" Tommy asked, clearly wanting an explanation.

"More like, what's not going on" Nikki mumbled, stealing Tommy's burger and taking a bite out of it.

"Oh" was Tommy's short answer, avoiding Circe's intense gaze.

"I guess I'm leaving" Nikki said as he picked up his shirt from the back of the couch Circe was sitting in.

"See you soon, Circe" and with that he walked out the door, not sparing Circe a glance.

As Nikki closed the door, Circe snapped out her thoughts, the sound of the needle scratching the vinyl finally settling in her brain. She stood up quickly, removing the needle quickly as to avoid more damage. She sighed, glad that there were no scratches to be found. Finally, she faced Tommy, who's eyes never parted from her.

"Yes?" She questioned.

"Nothing" Tommy laughed, taking the final bite from his burger.

"Alright"

Silence.

"By the way, fuck you!" Circe suddenly remembered, he had been the one that gave her name away.

"Why?" Tommy defended.

"You told him my name!"

"I- fuck, did I?" Tommy asked himself, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yep" Circe said, popping the p.

"Shit, sorry" Tommy apologised.

"It's whatever, he was going to find out soon enough" she shrugged not wanting to fight Tommy for being Tommy. She flipped the vinyl and placed the needle on it, the starting notes to 'Christine' filling the room.

"So... You finally finished the painting?" Tommy asked before he took a drink out of the bottle of Jack.

"Yeah, it's in the room drying up" Circe motioned towards her art room, the memories of what she had experienced sending chills down her spine.

"Cool!"

Then, silence. This much quiet was rare between Circe and Tommy. Every time they hung out one of them -if not both- would lead the conversation, but Circe could tell that despite Tommy's initial support, Nikki being in her apartment had thrown him off.

Before Circe could dive deeper into her thoughts, Tommy cleared his throat. Action that captured Circe's attention.

"Are you coming tonight?" Tommy asked Circe, referring to Mötley's gig.

"I'm not sure, I have to go pick some stuff up from work. If I don't think it's too much, I'll probably be there" Circe answered with a smile, Tommy smiled to himself.

"You always have too much shit to do, but you always finish in time, dude. Chill" Tommy noted.

"If you want someone to model your shit you know I'm always available" that comment made Circe's smile grow tender.

Tommy might be too much to handle sometimes, but moments like these made Circe remember why she let him stay in her life; why she ended up in front of the Lee's house after running from her's.

"Well, I better go so you have time to do your shit. Call me" Tommy said, hugging her sideways before leaving.

Circe stayed put, half processing Tommy's departure and when she finally did, she stood up from her place. She grabbed both her house keys and car keys from the countertop, heading out her apartment to her workplace. But not before putting her Siouxsie vinyl back in its sleeve.

The ride to work was longer than it should've been. The roar of her engine drowning out the sound of the busy LA streets. Circe had one hand on her stirring wheel, the other hung out the window. When she got the chance to speed up, her fingers danced with the wind to the beat of the songs playing on the radio.

Once she was a block away from the store she worked in Circe decided to park. She took off her radio, hiding it away to avoid getting it stolen -again. After turning off the engine and closing the door behind her, she headed to the back of the car and pulled out a big duffle bag.

"Hey, guys!" Circe said as she walked in, her co-workers mumbling a greeting back to her.

"Took you long enough, Larson" teased Lu from where she stood, her eyes fixed on the clothes she was putting on the mannequin.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I'm here, right?" Circe shrugged smiling at Lu.

"Whatever. Show us what you brought us" Lu told Circe, taking the duffle bag from her.

Lu motioned to Sarah -another coworker that Circe actually liked- to come closer. Lu dragged both girls to a table they kept around, opening the bag and dropping all its contents on the plastic surface.

The first thing Sarah picked up was an oversized redshirt. Circe had sewn a much tighter frame to it, making it a tight-fitting dress. But, instead of cutting the excess fabric off, Circe had placed safety pins on both sides; safety pins that she had used to lace the front of the dress, simulating a corset.

Then, Lu pulled a two-piece outfit. It was composed of a red leather top and a pair of high-waisted red leather pants. Not a lot had been done to this particular piece, other than Circe making this a two-piece thing and sewing the pants to be a tighter fit.

The next thing to be put on display was a denim jacket. Circe had spilt some paint on it, so she decided to make something out of it. She splattered various colours of paint on it and after realising she had gone a little over-board with the paint on the bottom half of the jacket she decided to cut it two inches below the breast.

Lu's eyes caught sight of yet another leather piece, this time being a trench coat made out of various pieces of leather tailored to be of a larger fit.

The next few items were quickly examined, Lu nor Sarah showing a lot of interest in those pieces. All girls present were aware of how Circe was always asked to do more casual looks, maybe destined to the boring Valley girls that rummaged LA in search of new outfits. So they never really paid much attention to those clothes.

Finally, Sarah and Lu found themselves holding the last two pieces of clothes. These two pieces were designed similarly, both being bodysuits. One of them was made out of an almost translucent black chiffon, Circe had added some lace embroidery over the breasts and on the sides to make it look less naked but still sexy -also it helped to hide the stitches she had used to give more structure to the bodysuit. And the other was made out of matte black cotton, Circe avoided adding details to this particular piece, she decided instead to give it more structure, simulating a corset or hard bodice.

"Well?" Circe asked after the two girls had finished ruffling through the clothes she had brought.

"These are amazing!" Sarah screeched in excitement.

"Please tell us you made an extra bodysuit for yourself, cause you would look so fucking hot, Larson" Lu, teased Circe.

"The boss is going to be so happy, these are going to sell so quickly!" Lu added happily.

"I hope so, I really like these" Circe said, slightly flustered. She might exude confidence most of the time, but when it came to her work it was the other way around.

"We all do, Ce. People are gonna love these" Sarah reassured.

"Now, these are the clothes they're expecting you to revamp" Lu told Circe, grabbing a black trash bag that had been thrown behind the counter.

Circe took a look inside the bag. It was filled with the usuals, big shirts, jackets, leather, ripped clothes and pieces of random fabric. A few ideas popped in Circe's head, already thinking about what she could do with what she was handed.

"I'll do my best, Lu" Circe said, looking up at the redhead in front of her.

"Now, here's your pay. Go, cause they want these thing done for next week"

"And with how many things they expect me to come back with?" Circe questioned.

"At least 6 new things" Lu told Circe. Sarah patted both girls on the shoulder before she left, approaching a customer.

"Fuck" Circe mumbled.

"Okay, okay I'll try"

"I know you will" Lu reassured Circe.

"Bye"

Circe walked out of the store with an empty duffle bag and a full trash bag, a fact that made a couple of people stare at her strangely. Circe opened the trunk of her car, she threw both things there and then headed to the front seat. She sat down, exhaling with a long sigh. Don't get her wrong, she loved her job, she adored making clothes and getting money out of it but sometimes she just wanted to not care. What made her care? She needs money to pay her bills and she needs money to pay for alcohol and drugs.

The drive back home wasn't much different from the drive to work. The music playing on the radio fell on deaf ears, Circe wasn't really in the mood to pay attention to it until she recognized the starting notes to "Start Me Up" by The Rolling Stones. Then, she turned the volume up, her head moving to the beat and for a moment she forgot all of the shit she had to do.

Circe entered her apartment with a heavy sigh, the trash bag made her arm muscles tense. She threw it by the coffee table, deciding that she would eventually get to it. Then, she sat on her couch facing the mess she didn't care to clean up before heading to the shop.

I'll do it later, she dismissed before she laid down on her couch and fell asleep.

When Circe woke up, it was nighttime. She looked around herself with a fogged-up vision, her eyes roaming the room in search of the clock. Idiot, you won't be able to see shit with the lights turned off, she mentally hit herself over the head before standing up, heading towards the lightswitch by the door. Once she found it, the room was lit up and she finally read the clock: 2:10; how does she manage to sleep this much? A mystery, truth be told.

She huffed out, staring at the pile of clothes she was meant to fix and then her eyes diverted to her room, Tommy's invitation popping up in her head. She might have missed their set, but there was still some time to party.

Circe quickly went through her clothes, pulling out the bodysuit she made for herself and a black bandeau. She took off all her clothes, throwing them to the corner of the room; then, she put on the bandeau, adjusting it to fit her better. Over it, she slipped on the bodysuit and then the high-waisted shorts she'd been wearing earlier that day.

She looked at herself in the mirror she placed on the closet door, she adjusted the turtle neck of the bodysuit and centered the large peek-a-boo that left her chest exposed. Then her hands travelled to her hair, it was messy and uncombed, her usually wavy hair lacked definition; she groaned, realising she had no other option but to put it up in a bun.

Next, she applied eyeliner over her eyes, blending it carefully with her fingers. After that, she brushed her eyebrows and applied her characteristic maroon lipstick. Circe took a last look at herself on the bathroom mirror, a smile tugging at the ends of her mouth.

Circe walked out of her apartment and as she locked the door a gust of wind sent chills down her spine, she stayed put for a while to enjoy it. Now, she headed to the boy's place not bothering on taking the car, they didn't live that far anyways.

The walk there was short but enjoyable, and once she was closing in on their apartment complex she could hear the music they were playing, as it got louder a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Nerves?

Circe blurred out the rest of her walk, and before she noticed she was stepping through the open window, most people not sparing her a glance, until...

"CE!" screamed an over-excited Tommy, then he moved people out of his way to get to her. Once they were face to face, he hugged her tightly. A puppy, she tenderly thought to herself.

"Hey T" she said as soon as he put her down, attempting to match his enthusiasm.

"You know where you can find the booze and the drugs, Vince is probably fucking in the bathroom, Mick is sitting at the table and Nikki..." Tommy's rambling was cut short when he realised what was Nikki doing. Circe only rose an eyebrow.

"... Yeah?"

"I don't know, he was right there," he said pointing at a random place.

"You know you're a terrible liar, right?" Circe said with a small smile, it didn't take her long to find Nikki -his hair gave him away- being straddled by some blonde. Tommy stared at her expectingly, but she just shrugged.

"Meh, whatever" was Circe's reassurance to Tommy's none spoken worries.

Tommy, being the lovesick boy he was, expected more of a reaction from Circe's behalf, especially after finding Nikki in her apartment earlier that day. He stared at her as she shrugged heading towards the display of alcohol on the countertop. Tommy felt frustrated, despite his initial awkwardness, he kinda enjoyed the idea of two of his best friends together.

Circe looked around herself, pondering on what to drink to get rid of the idea of Nikki and the blonde bimbo. Screw it, she thought before uncapping the bottle of vodka and pouring the translucent liquid in a cup she found laying around.

"Well, well, well" said Vince as he approached the brunette, making her snort out a laugh.

"Hey, Vinnie" she greeted, squishing his face with her hand.

"Didn't see you drooling over me tonight" he teased after Circe let go of his face.

"Two things: 1) I don't drool over you and 2) I didn't see your set tonight" Circe pointed out with a smile.

"Ah, you love me anyway" he told her, pulling her into a hug.

"Whatever you say, Barbie"

Then, Circe pushed him away, mumbling something along the lines of you're sweaty and you smell like sex, making Vince laugh.

"I see Nikki hasn't approached you tonight"

"Just got here, Vince and he clearly has better things to do"

Vince hummed and bit down a laugh. "Way better"

"Hey!" she hit Vince's arm playfully, "that's mean!"

Vince shook his head but laughed.

"C'mon, let's sit down for a moment" as he said that he held her hand and dragged her to the band's dining table.

"Mick, you know Circe. Circe, you know Mick" was Vince's quick introduction. Both Circe and Mick nodded their head in acknowledgement, she could tell he was a man of few words.

Time passed quickly, and Circe never really engaged in a conversation, she spent most of her time listening to other people's conversations or laughing at the stupid things the boys did to impress the small crowd that had gathered in their apartment. And yes, Nikki never approached her.

Strangely enough, Circe had stayed put for far too long and she was aching to move, her leg bouncing up and down and her fingers drumming random beats on the table. Tired of sitting down and only standing up to refill her cup she headed outside for a quick breather.

"Hey, T!" She yelled over the music, Tommy turned around to look at her, his mouth open and twitched as if he was saying: what?

Circe took two of her fingers and moved them as if she was smoking, making Tommy understand what she was asking. He nodded and threw his cigarettes to her.

Now, she stepped through the window, already pulling out a cigarette for herself, lighting it with the cheap lighter Tommy kept inside the pack. She leaned on the wall by the door, the cigarette barely leaving her lips, dangling in its place as she inhaled and exhaled the smoke.

"Hey, do you have a lighter?" A blonde girl said, breaking her out of her daze.

"Yeah, here let me help you" Circe said, flicking the lighter and getting the flame as close as she could to the girl's cigarette.

"Thanks" the blonde stayed quiet, but not for long. "So, do you know the band? I saw you sitting with them!"

"Something like that"

"Oh, something like that? Are you fucking one of them or something?" the unnamed girl teased, playfully digging her elbow in Circe's ribs.

"Something like that" Circe mumbled, but it looked like her answer never reached the girl's ears.

"I mean, you're like, really hot! I wouldn't blame them, hey! Even I would fuck you, girl" The blond then placed her hand on Circe's shoulder, dragging it up and down as a coy smile reached her lipstick-stained lips.

At that comment Circe's eyebrows rose, a smirk disguised as an innocent smile slowly appeared on her face. Circe then took the girl's hand in her own, tightening her grasp in reassurance, almost as if she said thank you. But as Circe started to close the space between them someone broke the comfortable atmosphere they had settled in.

"Hey I was looking for you"

Nikki.

"Yeah, just came out for a smoke" the blonde stated. Nikki offered her a hand and led them to the window, letting the girl walk in first and never directing a word to the brunette.

Circe smiled to herself, the smirk was subtle but very much present. She waved at Nikki as he went through the window, his gaze never leaving her as he took everything in. From her stance to her looks, and then, he saw that recognizable glimmer of mischief.

Fuck.

// Next Chapter //

#motley crue #mötley crüe #nikki sixx #tommy lee #mick mars #vince neil #80’s #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx imagines #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #love means trouble #fanfiction #chapter 4 #fanfic #female oc #classic rock #classic rock imagine

4 notes · View notes

jimintykookies · 6 years ago

Text

Pairing: hoseok x female reader

Genre: phoenix!AU, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: intercourse, oral (male and female), loss of virginity (female), major character death (non-descriptive)

A/N: Here it is, my first fic on this account. I’m so excited to debut my writing on here and even more excited to do it as part of a collab full of wonderful writers (many of whom I look up to). If you would like to check out their contributions to Cryptaesthesia, the link is here. I hope you enjoy and please, please, please leave feedback. Love ya!!

“Don’t forget to remind your parents about the conferences.”

You watched fondly as your hoard of kindergartners ran off to greet their respected parent or guardian. Your smile widened, quietly observing them excitedly explaining the events of their day. You loved your job and you loved your kids. Each one was special in their own unique way: Ella built towers with anything she could get her hands on, Lucas was the master painter and Bianca and Taylor were the Double Dutch queens.

You were familiar with most of the parents as well. There was the group of ‘Mean Girl’ moms who actively shamed anyone who gave their kids so much as a cookie. Rachel and Elliot Kasper were the young, dreamy couple who were so in love it was disgusting. Mrs. Wells was the Master of the Bake Sales, who made the best chocolate chip cookies you’d ever had. And then there was Kim Taehyung: the hot single dad with eyes of honey and a heart of gold. He had moved to the states a few years ago with his daughter Jisoo, and you couldn’t exactly blame the moms who would swoon over him at PTA meetings. Between his caramel hair, puppy dog eyes and a jawline that could cut diamonds, no one could blame you for harboring a little crush on him. It didn’t help that the sound of “Miss. Y/N” rolling of his tongue was enough for your panties to become ruined. How can someone’s voice be deeper than the Pacific ocean?

Your eyes quickly found him as they ran over the school courtyard. He was crouched beside Jisoo, golden skin glistening in the early May sun, lips stretched into a large smile as he chatted with his daughter. You mentally cursed how good he looked in a plain black t-shirt, because no human should look that hot. And those arms, god those arms. You could barely breathe when his biceps flexed to pick Jisoo’s backpack.

You lingered in the courtyard until you were sure all your kids were gone before slowly dragging yourself back to your classroom. Due to school policy, you were required to stay for another hour before you could head home to your couch and a warm cup of tea. Doing your best to fill up the time, you stop by the teacher’s lounge to make yourself a cup of bland coffee, an important aid in making your way through grading thirty-two math tests. You loved to teach, but grading had to be one of the worst jobs on the planet. While your kids were wonderful, you couldn’t say the same about their handwriting. You had suffered through many a headache trying to decipher e’s from c’s and h’s from n’s.

Sure enough an hour later you were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. Accompanying your growing headache was the familiar queasy stomach and empty chest. These phenomenons make up what you call the Feeling. The Feeling had plagued you since you were eight years old and you accidentally set your Barbie doll on fire.

For the most part, it had been a quiet Tuesday evening. Your parents had gotten into another fight, but that wasn’t exactly out of character at this point. You were alone in your room about to make Ken kiss the bride, when you heard a loud crash from the kitchen. You jumped at the sound, heart beating fast. Crashes often meant ugly fights and because of this, loud noises set off your fight or flight instincts. When you looked back at your doll, you found that your dear Barbie, along with your hand, were ablaze. Despite the fire, the burning sensation was nowhere to be found, and despite your surprise, you made no sound. Instead, you stared at the flames until your breathing and heartbeat slowed and the fire extinguished itself. The doll was a melted, black mess, but your hand was otherwise untouched.

That was the first of many times you accidentally set something on ire. Byt the time you were eleve, your pyrokinetic abilities were somewhat under control. As far as you were aware, nobody else knew about it and that was the way you wanted it to stay. However, your control over your flame had a direct relationship with the Feeling. As your control grew, the Feeling grew in tandem. You don’t know exactly how to describe the Feeling, but the closest you had ever come was it felt like you were missing the other half of your soul. At first, it was just a lonely thought it the back of your mind, but as you matured, it became more physical and more distracting. It was a dull ache most of the time and just enough distraction would make you forget about it, but some days it screamed at you, making it hard to focus on work and at its worst, leave you bedridden. You were to afraid to go to a doctor because while you didn’t know the exact cause, you were fairly certain that it was connected to your powers and you weren’t in the mood to become some lab experiment.

Today it hadn’t been too bad, but without proper distraction, it still bugged you. You had found over the years that peppermint tea eased the feeling a bit, so you found yourself once again in the teacher’s lounge, boiling a steaming cup. You were in the middle of stirring in some honey, when Kim Namjoon, the vice principal, approached you.

“Hey, Y/N.” He smiled fondly at you.

“Hey, Namjoon, what’s up?”

You liked Namjoon. Not romantically, but as a person. He was intelligent, funny and genuinely cared about both the staff and the kids. He had amazing ideas about how to make the students learning simultaneously more fun and more immersive, all while providing constant support for the teachers. He would make a much better principal then Min Jinsoo, who only liked his job for his pay.

“I got your field trip approved.”

A few weeks ago you had sent in a request for a field trip to a local dance studio that offered classes about movement for younger children. You were currently leading a unit on health and exercise and you figured this would be a great way to get the kids out of the classroom. When you had told Namjoon about your idea, he had immediately been on board. However, Jinsoo was an absolute stinge, and rarely granted field trip requests. This time, however, you seemed to have gotten lucky.

“Really? That’s great. What did you have to bribe Min with this time?”

“Bribery? Don’t you know who I am? I charmed him with my outstanding rhetoric.”

You raised an eyebrow. He sighed.

“Free coffee for a month.”

“Jesus, Joon, you didn’t have to do that!”

“A ‘thanks’ would have been sufficient.”

“Well, thank you. This will really mean a lot to the kids. We haven’t gone on a field trip since October.”

“No problem. You know the kid’s education is the most important thing to me.”

“I do, but we both know how expensive Jung’s prefered coffee is.”

“I never promised him that. If you think I am bringing anything other than that gas station shit, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Well, thanks still. Anyway, I better get going. I have a crap load of tests to grade. As much as I love these kids, their handwriting is really something else.”

“Aish, I know. Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Kim.”

An hour later, you’re finally done with checking the tests and entering the scores into the gradebook. You pack up your stuff, grab your coat and keys and head out to your car. The one positive about staying behind to grade tests, is that it means you miss rush hour. Instead of an hour, your drive home only takes thirty minutes. However, by the time you make it home, the Feeling begins to take over. You immediately make yourself another cup of peppermint tea before curling up on the couch and putting a show on Netflix. You can’t really focus on the plot though, because the Feeling is slowly taking over all of your senses. You hated when it got like this: all consuming, demanding that you pay attention to it. What you hated most is that there was no way for you to fix it. For all you knew, you would spend the rest of your life like this and if the pattern continued, it would only get worse.

You ended up giving up on watching the show and instead making yourself a light dinner before going to bed at six-thirty. You don’t fall asleep for a long time, tears streaming down your face as you longed for someone to comfort you, to tell you it was okay. When you can no longer keep your eyes open, you fall into a dreamless slumber.

HOSEOK POV

“One and two and three and four and…” Hoseok had long cutout Jimin’s counting, his only focus being his body and the music.

He loved the feeling of the solid, hardwood dance floor beneath his feet. With each step he felt more alive and he could feel a rush of energy run through him every time he breathed in. He threw his body into every leap, every step, every beat. Dance was his life and he communicated that with his movement.

He got so caught up in dancing that he hadn’t realized that Jimin had stopped moving. One second he was flying through the air and the next he was colliding with Jimin’s hard body before falling to the floor. He put his hand out to catch himself, but his weight was too much for his wrist and he cried out as sharp pain shot up his arm.

“Fuck, Hobi, are you okay?”

Jimin was immediately hovering over him, as he rolled on the floor clutching his wrist.

“Ahh, shit it hurts.”

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Do you need painkillers? Ice?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just help me up.”

Using his good hand, Jimin lifted him to his feet and helped him hobble to the front desk where they kept a mini-fridge with ice. He hissed when he felt the cold against his now swollen wrist.

“Are you sure your fine?” Jimin’s voice was shaking with worry.

“I’ll be alright. Go back to dancing, I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jimin cast him a worried glance, but listened to him anyway. As soon as Jimin was gone, Hoseok channeled the energy that was always bubbling in his core to spread out down to his arm. He sighed in relief as the swelling went down. He became so relaxed, that he didn’t notice that he had set fire to the towel he had wrapped around the ice.

“Fuck. Shit. Goddammit.”

He quickly beat out the flame before throwing the towel in the trash, hoping no one would notice it. It wasn’t the first time he had accidentally set something on fire and he doubted it would be the last. Ever since he was eight years old, he had been setting random things aflame. Lucky for him, the only person who had ever caught him was his school’s druggie. The kid had blabbered to everyone on campus about Hoseok’s powers but every had passed it off as an LSD induced hallucination. Despite having them for his entire life, he had no idea where his powers came from, he just knew that they were accompanied by the strangest ache he had ever felt.

He waited a couple more minutes before heading back into the dance studio. Jimin had just finished running through the song again and was brushing the sweat from his forehead.

When he saw Hoseok, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Hey, what are you doing? Shouldn’t you be icing that?”

“It’s fine, just some temporary pain. I’m good. Should we run it again?”

“Actually, we have some kids from a local school coming in in a couple days. I was hoping you could teach it because it’s my parent’s 50th anniversary and I have to help with the party.”

“Uh, sure. How old are they?”

“Around five or six. Kindergartners.”

“Aww, just little kiddos.”

Hoseok had always had a soft spot for little ones. They were always so adorable, prancing around the studio, attempting to follow his instructions.

“Yeah, it’s a field trip from the local school. I think you’ll really like the teacher. She’s hot.”

Jimin sent him a wink and he rolled his eyes in response. Over the years, Hoseok had found himself perpetually single. Don’t get him wrong, he had got his dick wet plenty of times, but every relationship he had found himself in felt suffocating. Jimin, however, was a hopeless romantic and made it his life mission to find the girl of Hoseok’s dreams. This teacher was only one of the billion that Jimin had tried to set him up with and he doubted this one would be any different from the rest. Still, there was a part of him that hoped that she might fix the hole that was becoming more and more obvious every day.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. You had never felt this good in your entire life. You had just stepped into the dance studio to meet the instructor for your class, normal procedure. However, as soon as his hand clasped yours in a friendly shake, it felt like your entire body was healed. You almost jumped in surprise at the sensation and it took you a solid minute to recuperate from the shock. Throughout the class you found yourself trying to find ways to get as close to him as possible: the nearer you were, the more euphoric you felt. The hole that had began to become unbearable the last couple days, was suddenly gone. During the lunch break, you found yourself talking to him. The conversation was easy, and while you normally felt anxious around guys, you felt completely safe around Hoseok. He was handsome, a good dancer, and the absolute sweetest around the kids. You prayed to god he was single, because you weren’t sure you would be able to handle of the pain of him having a girlfriend. You dreaded having to leave. You didn’t know if you would ever feel like this again.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. You almost wanted to cry during your departure, but instead were forced to help manage your small children. When you shook his hand in goodbye, you felt a small piece of paper being passed to you. When you glanced at it, you were elated to see the ten digits scrawled in blue ink. You couldn’t help the smile that grew across your face and when you glanced back up at him, you burst out laughing at his cheesy wink. You didn’t notice your scarf in a crumpled heap in the corner of the dance studio, but Hoseok certainly did.

You at in your desk chair, lazily swinging back and forth, while you debated whether or not you should text him. You hadn’t had much dating experience in your life (read: none at all) and the last thing you wanted was to come off as too eager. That being said, you were eager to see him again. You longed to feel the comfortable ease that came with being around him and his gorgeous smile. You began to swirl into an anxious spiral, mind switching back and forth to the point that you felt a headache begin to form. You were so deep in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear the knock on the door or see Hoseok walk in.

You glanced up in surprise, “Oh...what are you doing here?”

He broke into a gentle smile as your tongue tripped over itself, which in turn made you smile as well. Just him being in the room made your mind calm and your anxiety quell. That all disappeared when you noticed the scarf, your scarf, in his hand. You come to the fast and disappointing realisation that he is not there for you, but simply to return your belonging.

“I’m here to return this...”

His voice was soft and unsteady, breath quick. He almost seemed nervous.

“...andtoaskyouonadate.”

He spit the words out so fast, it took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said. When the realisation did hit you, you opened your mouth before closing it in complete disbelief.

“I..well..um..you wanna go on a date? With me?” You couldn’t keep the disbelief out of your voice.

“Well..uh..yeah. Ya know..if that is something you would like?”

It was a good thing no one else was there to see you because you were both a blushing mess. Hoseok hadn’t actually gone a date with a girl in years (he was pretty sure casual one night stands didn’t count as dates) and you had never been on a date at all. You hadn’t even had your first kiss.

“I would like that...a date..that...we should do.”

Your nervousness seemed to cure him of his, as he burst out in the cutest giggle you had ever heard (keep in mind you work with five year olds).

“Thank god, if you had said no, I swear I would’ve died.”

You smile, the butterflies in your stomach still fluttering, but no longer preventing you from being a coherent human being.

“I’m just happy you’re not just here to return the scarf.”

“I’m happy you left it so I had an excuse to see you again.”

You giggled.

“So how does dinner and a movie next Saturday sound?”

“It sounds just perfect.”

“Well I should probably go, it’s Jimin’s birthday and if I don’t pick up the alcohol for his party, I don’t know if you will ever see me again.”

“Well then you better go, I don’t want a missing man as my date. Text me the details?”

“Sounds good.”

Time goes by slower than you would like, but now Hoseok texts you daily and that keeps your impatience at bay. By the time Saturday evening rolls around, you are a chaotic mess, trying to figure out what to wear. You always thought it was stupid how much time and effort put into getting ready for these kinds of things, but now you fully understood the pressure of trying not to look like you tried too hard, but also like you tried a little. Society is stupid like that. By the time you were walking out the door, you had spent nearly three hours on your hair, makeup and outfit, and you swore to god if the date went well, Hoseok was going to have to deal with you being a mess from now on.

You meet him at a new Mexican restaurant equidistant from both of your houses. You almost choked when you saw him, his usual attire consisting of sweatpants and loose tees replaced with a leather jacket and black skin-tight jeans. He looked god-level good and you wondered how soon you could get water because, goddamn, if you were going to get through this night you were going to need a lot of it.

As it turns out, despite his “bad boy” outfit, Hoseok was the perfect gentlemen. He held the door open, offered to take your jacket, and pulled out your chair for you. Just like the other day at the dance studio, conversation with him was as easy as it had ever been. You felt completely relaxed, and despite your generally closed off ways, you were willing to be completely vulnerable. It was simple and easy and you didn’t have to think about anything.

Everything was going great until you left the restaurant to walk to the nearby movie theater. You were halfway there when you ran into the one person you would pay money to never have to speak to again: Jeon Jungkook, your high school crush.

You and Jungkook had been in the same friend group in high school and were actually fairly close. You had spent many a night helping his piss drunk ass home and sobering him up so his father wouldn’t get mad and beat him again. You grew closer as more and more of your friends either graduated or became self-righteous jerks and by the end of your junior year, you considered him to be your best friend.

But then something changed. Jungkook grew distant within a matter of weeks, only talking to you when absolutely necessary. You were left heartbroken and confused, but when you tried confront him on the matter, he left you with more questions, then he answered. You later learned that he had found out about your little crush on him and instead of handling it like a mature human being, he ditched you out of embarrassment for your “pitiful ass” (his words apparently).

“Oh hey.”

Hey. Those were the first word to you in ten years, after abandoning you when he was all you had left. You glared at him, hand tightening around Hoseok’s.

“Hey.”

Your voice was quiet. You didn’t know what Jungkook wanted, but that didn’t stop you from being terrified that he would say something to make Hoseok never want to talk to you again. You were so happy for the first time in your life, and here was the one person who might just ruin it for you.

“Who’s this?”

Hoseok looked back and forth between you, clearly confused.

“This is my..uh..ex-friend, Jungkook.”

“Now that’s no way to introduce your best friend from high school.”

You hated that he looked so happy. That he was confident. You had wanted the world to rip him apart for what he did to you, but instead it seemed to only have built him up more.

“What do you want Jungkook?”

Despite your attempts to control it, you were sure both men could here the anger laced in your tone.

“Gosh, Y/N, I was just trying to be nice.”

“Oh, now you’re being nice? Maybe you should’ve tried that a couple years ago.”

This seemed to tick Jungkook off, his brows furrowing and his lips curling in a spiteful frown.

“Well sorry I didn’t want your pathetic ass trailing around behind me like a lost puppy.”

He turned to Hoseok.

“Let me give you some advice man, get out while you still can. She’s just an attention seeker and a clingy bitch. God, I can’t believe I was ever friends with you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and before Hoseok can say anything in response, you were bolting down the street in the direction of your home, not looking behind you once.

Over the next few weeks you ignore Hoseok’s calls and texts, too embarrassed to talk to him. Over the course of the next month, you flirt with Taehyung and he ends up asking you out. You agree. He was much more confident than Hoseok and even though you didn’t feel the same relief as you did when Hobi was around, you thought that maybe getting out into the dating world would help fill up the hole that had gotten worse since you stopped hanging out with Hoseok.

Taehyung picked you up at your apartment before driving you to mini-golf. Like Hoseok, he was a perfect gentleman and the conversation was easy, but you didn’t feel the connection you had before. After letting you beat him (even though he denied it ferociously), he took you to a quiet cafe near your home. You were talking quietly about various teaching methods when you saw him.

Hoseok look tired and distraught as he dodged the barista’s attempts to flirt with him. You tried to focus on your conversation, but your eyes kept wandering back to where he was standing, waiting for his coffee. He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet and it was a fact you were thankful for. Despite the fact that you weren’t interested in Taehyung romantically, you didn’t need yet another date ruined by a ghost from your past. However, you’re luck seemed to runout when his eyes glanced over you. You could see the exact moment he understood what he was looking at.

A look of determination came over him as he grabbed his drink before beelining straight towards your table.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring me?”

You flinched at his sudden harsh words and you would’ve paid a million dollars to get swallowed up by a giant hole right then and there. Tae looked at you, obviously confused. You gulped audibly before opening your mouth.

“Hi, Hoseok.” You heard your voice shake and your will to live shrunk even smaller.

“Just answer my goddamn question, Y/N.”

You looked apologetically at Taehyung, “Can you excuse us for a moment?”

He nods, still confused.

You grabbed Hoseok’s hand and drag him outside of the coffee shop before turning to really look at him for the first time since your date. You could now clearly see how unwell he was. His lips were chapped and the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost dead. Edward looked more alive than him.

“Well?”

His voice wasn’t annoyed, just exasperated.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“That’s it?”

“No. I am really sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you, I was just embarrassed. Jungkook, the guy we ran into, I used to have a thing for him and he found out and he thought I was pathetic because of it so he stopped hanging out with me. I just didn’t want you to think about me the same way he did. I..I really like you, Hoseok and I didn’t want you to hurt me like he had.”

Hoseok stared at you blankly and you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to swarm with anxiety.

“Please say something.”

He looked at you in the eyes and you see his facial features begin to soften.

“I would never think of you as pathetic, Y/N. I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like it was even possible for me to think that. I really like you too, if you haven’t noticed and I haven’t felt this way about someone for a really long time. I just thought I had screwed up somehow, which, admittedly wouldn’t have been the first time. I just…”

You cut off his rambling by attaching your lips to his. He stood frozen in shock for a few moments before his brain registers what’s happening. He then begins to his move his mouth against yours. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you and your entire body relaxed into him. You don’t notice the heat at first, you are so consumed by the feeling of Hoseok’s lips on yours. The light is what drew your attention away from his mouth and to your arms, both of which were on fire.

You draw back in a panic, a yelp released from your mouth.

“Oh my god.”

You had set Hoseok on fire. You knew your powers would be a burden, but you had never imagined something like this would ever happen. By now, of course, Hoseok had noticed the flames too and was also in a state of panic.

“Oh shit. Oh my god, I set you on fire. Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Wait, what?”

You pulled back.

“You set me on fire?”

Hoseok looked at you confused. It then came to both of your realisation that neither of you were screaming in pain, as one who was on fire would.

“Wait, can you…?” You looked up at Hoseok with bright eyes, “Can you light things on fire?”

Hoseok nodded slowly like he was afraid for the truth to come out. He looked down at the ground almost embarrassed.

“I can too.”

At that, his head snapped up and looked you straight in the eye.

“You’re lying.” His voice was rough, but you could hear a glimmer of hope in his undertone.

“I’m not. See.”

You lifted your hand and produced a small flame from your palm. As if in a trance, Hoseok’s own hand came out to brush the tip of the fire. When he deemed it harmless, he grasped your hand in his own and pulled you in for a hug.

“I’m not alone,” he whispers shakely.

His arms were tight around you and you once again were overwhelmed with feelings of comfort and belonging. After a long minute, he pulled away again, eyes glassy and lips curved into a shaky smile.

“Look, Y/N, I know that we haven’t known each other that long, but for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I belong somewhere and that somewhere is with you. So would you be willing to do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide and heart open before nodding as tears began to trickle down your cheeks.

“Yes, Hoseok, I would love to.”

With that he pulled you in for a kiss, this one a bit more reckless and messy. You got caught up in how safe his arms felt and how euphoric your entire being was just because his lips were on yours. You never wanted the moment to end.

Eventually you pulled back when someone clears their throat. You find Taehyung standing outside the cafe door, looking a bit awkward.

“Uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh god, Taehyung, I’m so sorry. This isn’t anything against you, I swear. You’re a really great guy-”

“It’s fine. Seriously. Look, I think your cute and I would have loved to date you, but just from looking at the two of you together, I can tell that he’s the one you should be with.”

A small smile graces your mouth at the comment.

“Thanks for being so understanding. I’m sure you’ll find the perfect girl out there somewhere.”

“Thanks. Have a great night, Y/N.”

“You too, Tae.”

With that he walks away, leaving you to sink into your new boyfriend’s arms.

You had never believed in fairytales and had a general distaste toward rom-coms. With your life being so bitter and lonely, you found it hard to believe anything close to the semblance of true love could be real. Hoseok completely flipped your world view. With him, everything was easier, lighter. If you were having troubles with work, he would be there to rant to and then take you to get a cup of coffee.

You had discussed your powers and found your experiences to remarkably similar: you both set things on fire at a young age, before gradually gaining control of it. You both had also experienced the missing feeling in your soul which had only grown with time, but most importantly, you both knew that that hole was gone as long as you were with each other.

Despite his disclaimer of not having a girlfriend since his junior year of high school, Hoseok went above and beyond in your relationship in ways that made you feel like you might be an inadequate girlfriend. The dates he planned were always fun and interesting but he also had an interesting knack for knowing when you just needed to stay in for the evening and watch movies while cuddling.

Somewhere along the line, the question of sex came in. You had barely kissed anyone before Hoseok, much less ever had sex and you were very embarrassed to admit this to him. He, however, was very understanding, and was willing to wait as long as you wanted.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he had said, “I would love to fuck you into high heavens right now, but I know that losing your virginity is scary and I don’t want you to feel any pressure whatsoever.”

You had felt much better after that and neither of you had touched the subject since. Before you knew it, you had almost been dating for a year. Your life had become the life you could only have dreamed of twelve months ago. Even Namjoon had mentioned how much happier you seemed.

You had gotten to know Hoseok’s friends as well and you often hung out as a group. You had grown especially close to Jimin, who was constantly trying to woo Hoseok’s other close friend, Yoongi.

“I just don’t understand,” he would complain to you, “I know he likes me, so why does he give me the cold shoulder all the time. We literally slept together. He had his dick inside me for fucks sake!”

“Maybe he’s just scared of commitment.”

“Scared of commitment my ass, what more could you need when you have my peach butt on demand 24/7.”

For your one year anniversary, Hoseok planned a picnic on the beach. You ate chinese takeout since neither of you could cook for shit and talked while watching the sun set over the ocean. After eating, you strolled along together, barefoot in the sand, hand in hand. You would playfully splash him with your foot and he would threaten to throw you into the chilly water. Your conversation was careless and free and your heart felt light. You wouldn’t have changed a thing, even for a million dollars. Eventually he stopped walking and pulled you to face him.

You looked up at him and giggled, but your smile dropped when you saw how serious he looked.

“What’s up?”

You felt your stomach sinking.

“I just wanted to take a moment to say how much you mean to me, Y/N. Before I met you, I didn’t even realise how shitty my life was. It was all grey and boring and sure there were times where I was happy but for the most part I was lonely and tired. And then you came in and you lit the entire thing up. The past year with you has by far been the best in my entire life. I feel so happy and free and like there isn’t a thing in the world that could change that. I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much and I just wanted you to know that.”

You felt the tears as they poured down your cheek. You were breathless, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.

“I love you too, Jung Hoseok.”

With that, he pulled you in for a kiss, his hands grasping your cheeks. His kissed you with such a ferocity that it felt like he was trying to transfer his soul into you. You were faintly aware of the fact that you were in public and that your bodies were probably catching on fire from the intensity, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. You just wanted to be consumed by Jung Hoseok.

You pulled away first when your lungs began to burn from the lack of air. Hoseok looked down with you and you would have to be blind not to see the pure adoration that filled his eyes.

“I have one more thing to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Will you move in with me?”

You don’t even think before nodding. And then you are kissing again. That’s when you realise you want him. All of him. You loved him and he loved you and there was no one else on the planet you would ever want to be with.

“Hoseok...I want to do it. Tonight.”

His gaze felt intense as his brown eyes met yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

“We’ve been together for a year and I love you so fucking much Jung Hoseok. There’s no one else in the entire world I would rather do it with.”

Once he realized that you were really serious about having sex with him, his entire demeanor changed. His eyes darkened and you giggled as he grabbed your hand dragging you back to the car.

“Eager much?”

“Look, I love you, but I haven’t had sex in like a year and a half. Forgive me if I am a bit excited to finally fuck the love of my life.”

You giggled again.

Despite his eagerness before, Hoseok insisted on taking it slow. Instead of pushing you up against the wall as soon as he closed the door like you had wished, he made you sit on the couch while he “got ready”. You let him, wondering what in the world he would possibly need to change in order to have sex. Maybe he was cleaning his dick. You giggled at the thought.

However, all traces of humor were erased when Hoseok guided you by the waist to his bedroom, only for you to find the room lit up with candle light.

“Sorry that there aren’t any rose petals, but I didn’t exactly have any forewarning so I hope this works.”

“Hoseok, this is perfect. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”

With that, his lips are once again on yours and you’re being pushed back until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto the plush mattress. Hoseok’s hand found your breast and he softly groped it, enticing a soft sigh from you. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Lewd smacking noises fill the room. Yearning to be closer to Hoseok’s solid body you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, and pulled him as close to you as possible.

Hoseok’s hand moved from your tit, and traveled to the hem of your sundress, where he began to draw small, teasing circles. You arched your back into him, a small moan slipping out of your mouth. His erection is pressed against your thigh, and you feel a small bubble of pride swell up in you. You had spent so much of your life doubting how you look and how you act, but here you were with a man who found you overwhelmingly attractive and on top of it, loved you with the depths of his soul.

You soon pulled away from the soft comforts of his mouth, only to tug at the hem his t-shirt before he gets the hint and removes the offensive fabric. You had seen Hoseok shirtless many times before, when he was swimming or dancing or during one of your many make-out sessions, but his broad shoulders and tight abs never failed to make you clench your thighs to together.

Hoseok noticed your stare and chuckled.

“As much as I appreciate you appreciating me, I think it’s only fair that you remove a little something too, princess.”

You felt your core tighten at the pet name, and you found yourself eagerly shrugging the dress over your head before you threw it off the bed to join Hoseok’s shirt. Your simple lace bralette and lavender cotton underwear weren’t exactly the sexiest lingerie one could wear, but the dark look in Hoseok’s eyes could have fooled you.

Then he was crawling back over you, lips attached to the side of your neck as he helplessly rutted down on your thigh. Your threw your head back in a moan when he bit down on a particular sensitive spot near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Expletives fell from your lips as pleasure clouded your mind and you felt the wetness in your panties soak through the flimsy material.

One of Hoseok’s callused hands managed to make its way down your side before it resumed its place on the inside of your thigh. This time he moved them slowly upwards until you could swear you could feel the heat of his fingertips through your underwear. He lightly pressed on your clit, testing the waters before your soft gasp led him to add more pressure, rubbing in gentle circles. You whined at the motion, the unfamiliar feeling of someone else touching you there sent you into a heated frenzy.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

The low timbre of Hoseok’s voice rendered you speechless and you could only whine in response. He pushed the cotton aside before he continued his previous motions. The direct contact almost felt too much, your nerve endings on fire. Your fingernails dug into the bare skin of Hoseok’s back and he let out a low growl in response. He removed his fingers from your core, leaving you a whimpering mess in his wake. His fingers found their way to the clasp of your bra before swiftly undoing it. The moment the garment left your body, insecurity flowed through you. You resisted the urge to cover up your exposed chest with your arms. Hoseok seemed to notice the doubt in your eyes and in response, smiled down at you.

“It’s okay, princess. You’re fucking perfect. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His words soothed you and you relaxed as his palm slowly grazed against the side of your breast. You felt his lips slowly kiss down your chest before wrapping around your nipple. The sensation was completely foreign to you and your brain completely blanked as his warm tongue delivered soft licks. His fingers came to pinch the other nipple and you let out a high pitched moan in surprise.

He soon abandoned you breasts in favor of kissing down your abdomen. Your skin tingle and his touch only served to further electrify you. Upon reaching the hem of your panties, he kissed around the edge of the band before he grasped it with his teeth. Your lustful gaze followed him as he drug the fabric down your legs at an infuriating pace. Once the underwear had joined the ever growing pile of clothes, his lips attached themselves to the inside of your thighs, leaving small, deliberate bites that you were sure would become purple marks by morning. He moved himself to comfortably sit between your legs before glancing up at you with dark eyes.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You whine.

“Yes, it’s fine, just please touch me.”

Permission granted, he dove in, taking a tentative lick, before the soft lips that you loved so much wrapped around your clit. He moaned at the taste and you threw your head back, unable to comprehend how you got so lucky as to have this beautiful man, laying before you, eating you out like there wasn’t a finer meal in the world.

“Princess, you taste like honey. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me all these months.”

Words failed you and you responded by clenching your thighs around his head, trying to bring him closer to you. Your eyes shot open when you felt the tip of his finger gently prod at your entrance, before he slowly slipped inside. You looked down to find him gazing at you intently, trying to gage your reaction. You gave a small nod of encouragement before leaning back into the pillow. Hoseok’s finger grazed your walls just the right way and you began to feel the start of a knot forming in your lower belly.

When he deemed you ready, he slipped in a second finger to join the first and this time the stretch was a bit more painful. Once you adjusted, pleasure sang through your body and the knot began to tighten.

“Hoseok,” you eked out, “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, baby? Well then go ahead, let it go.”

It took only a couple more well aimed thrusts of his fingers, before your core tightened around him and white hot euphoria blinded you. If you were anymore coherent, you might have been worried about his neighbors hearing your scream, but your mind is instead a foggy mess and the only thing you could think about is how much you want him inside your pussy.

After you recovered, you dragged Hoseok up to meet his lips with your own, while your hands traveled down to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. You reached your hand into his boxers to give him a few encouraging strokes, to find him nearly fully hard. He eagerly pushed down his tight jeans and taking his underwear off with them.

“Are you one hundred percent sure about this?”

“A thousand.”

With that, he reached up to grab a condom from his bedside drawer and quickly rolled it on. You felt him line up with you and you began to feel a little nervous. Would it hurt? How much and for how long? Hoseok catched your apprehension, and reached up to gently caress your cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay love. I’ll go slow and if it hurts just let me know. It’s all about communication.”

You nodded, your nerves calmed a little. True to his word, he pushed in slowly. The stretch was indeed painful and you winced slightly at the sting. Hoseok’s hand never left your cheek, wiping away the couple tears that fell. Once he was fully seated inside you, he stopped.

“Let me know when I can move. Take all the time in the world.”

“Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you and you stay like that for a few minutes: his lips on yours, his cock connecting you in the most intimate way possible. There was a magical feeling to it, like all the stars in the heavens had aligned in just the right way. Everything felt perfect and you never wanted to leave his bed ever again.

Eventually, the painful stretch turned into a dull burn and you gave him the go ahead to move. He started slowly, thrusts steady and strong. You let out little moans as the rest of the ache fades into a delicious pleasure. The feeling seems to be catching up to Hoseok too, because he began to lose his rhythm, releasing little groans along the way.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good. I never wanna leave your pussy, baby.”

“Hoseok, shit, keep going. Faster, baby, faster.”

He heeded your demand and his thrusts speed up, leaving you a mess underneath him. All you could do was moan, nails digging into his back. Your feet locked around his waist in an a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. Your cries were getting louder and his grunts had turned into moans. The knot once again began to form in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Hoseok, I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, princess, me too. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Neither of you noticed the fire beginning to burn, too caught up in your embrace. It started in your hands and moved up your arms and to your chest. The heat from the flames only fueled your pleasure, your sea of euphoria drawing back to form the tsunami that is your approaching orgasm. Hoseok’s thrusts began to stutter, balls tightening, moans reaching their peak crescendo.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Come with me, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

With that your both reach your peak, your pussy clamped down on him while he filled the condom. The flames intensified, as if your climax was their own personal brand of fuel. The euphoria that washed through both of your minds is so intense that you can’t even remember your own names. As the waves begin to calm, all you can think of is Hoseok before your mind faded to black.

You blink awake only to be greeted with harsh white light. You couldn’t remember much, other than passing out after having the best orgasm of your life. You quickly come to the realization that you are no longer in Hoseok’s bed or even his apartment. Instead, you are sitting in a plush chair, that is not entirely unlike a throne. The floral sundress you were wearing at the beach is replaced with what you can only describe as the most luxurious sheet you have ever felt forming a makeshift toga of sorts.

What the hell? you think.

As your eyes finally adjust more fully to light, you find that Hoseok is sitting next you in a chair and donning a toga similar to your own. The chairs are placed at a grand marble table which is in the center of grand marble room. The roof seems to be made of glass and behind it, the source of the blinding light shines through. Across from you sits a being, who seems not to ascribe to gender but rather transcends it to become (objectively) the most beautiful human being you have ever seen.

Hobi is the first to speak, as you are too lost to form words.

“Where the fuck are we?”

The being across from you chuckles at his question, mouth opening to show glowing white teeth.

“Ah, such harsh words. I forget how crass the human mind is. You are in what I like to call a transitional space.”

“A what?”

This time it is you who asks the question.

“A transitional space.”

“Transition between what?”

Despite your question, you’re beginning to feel a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Between this life and the next. This room exists only for us to talk and once you leave, it will never exist again.”

“Wait, go back. What were you saying about our lives?”

Judging by the look on his face, Hoseok is slowly coming to the same conclusion that you have.

“You, my loves, are dead. During the final moments of your consummation of your love, the fire that burned quietly in your soul for the duration of your life finally consumed you and left you as nothing but ashes on white sheets.”

And there it was. You were dead. You had no idea why and you had no idea who this person or thing was, but something told you that this was part of something much bigger than you would’ve ever imagined.

“And who are you?”

Hoseok looks surprisingly resigned. During the course of your relationship, you had noticed that Hoseok didn’t take well to drastic change, yet here in this room, facing the most drastic change of all, he didn’t even bother to frown.

“I am Fatum, better know to you English speakers as Fate. And you are my children.”

Both of your eyes go wide. Fate looks calmly back at you and you become faintly aware that their irises slowly change color like the colorful LED lights on Hoseok’s car stereo.

“You and your deaths are part of a saga that has been drawn out over many eons. Once long ago, I had a lover, Ordo. They were my single purpose in life, the focus of all my energy. But sadly, good things rarely last forever in this universe, and they ended up betraying me. I had no choice but to destroy them. Instead of getting rid of them completely, I took their soul, combined it with a part of mine and split it in two. Those two new souls are you.

“You became my pride and joy and slowly the pain I felt about Ordo’s loss was replaced with my abundance of love for you. In fact, I became so attached to you that I made it impossible for your souls to ever be destroyed, even by me. But then you grew older. You became wary of me and began to act out. In the end, you followed in Ordo’s footsteps betraying me and my work for the good of the universe.

“This time, however, I could not destroy you like I had with Ordo. My blind adoration for you prevented that and so I cursed you instead. For the past several eons, you have been cast onto Earth in the form of humans. Since you are technically the same soul split into two bodies, separation for long periods of time is quite emotionally draining. Lucky for you, I cursed you so that you would eventually find each other and in the presence of your other half, find the most euphoric happiness ever known.”

“Excuse me if I don’t understand how that would be considered a curse?”

Fatum turns to face you and you shiver as his eyes seem to bore through your soul, the very one he supposedly created.

“Well, you see my love, your happiness has a...let’s call it an expiration date. Humans, the silly things, always seem to succumb to intercourse when they discover who they believe to be the love of their lives. You two are certainly no exception. Your curse comes in the form of death during the...uh...climax of your first time together. You then come back here to meet me, where I have explained this story to you a thousand times over.”

“And then what?”

“And then, Hoseok, I send you back to Earth to reborn yet again as another human only to live out the same fate.”

Fatum chuckles at their own joke.

“What about the fire?”

“The fire, my dear, is the only part of your former form that you retain. Before taking the form of an infinite number of humans, you were what you people call phoenixes. Your fire resides in your soul, which you know I cannot touch. In fact, that is where I got the inspiration for your curse. You know, the whole bursting into flames before being reborn schtick.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. What now?”

Hoseok seemed to be getting impatient with Fatum’s long story. He wasn’t good at sitting still for long periods of time and you had been sitting here for, well, you didn’t exactly know, time was somewhat elusive in this interdimensional space, but it seemed like very long.

“You get reborn obviously.”

The smile Fatum offered looked like an attempt offer a kind reprieve to the crazy story that had been forced down your throat, but it came off as chilling and a shiver was sent down your spine as a result. And then the world faded to black once more.

The fall air was chilly and you were forever grateful for warmed air of the local cafe. It was mid-October and the weather had just begun to cool off from the intense heat leftover from summer, but the mornings were just nippy enough to make you reach for an extra jacket and scarf.

Despite being seven-thirty on a Saturday morning, there was still a bit of line, and you distracted yourself by looking around the quiet cafe you had come to love. Now in your second year of college, you found that the atmosphere provided the peace you needed to study, unlike the library near your dorm. Despite strict rules to keep the noise down, there was always someone breaking them.

You finally made it to the front of the line, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face. You frequented the place enough to know all the staff, yet before you stood a boyishly, handsome man with the brightest smile you had ever scene. Something about him struck you as familiar, but you brushed off the feeling, dismissing it as your intuition going crazy from lack of sleep.

“Hi,” he greeted you, “I’m Hoseok, what can I get for ya?”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Please feel free to leave feedback. My inbox is always open to anyone. If you would like to help me determine where I head from here in terms of writing, here's a link to a survey. Thanks for reading.

#bts #hoseok #smut #angst #fanfic #oneshot #jhope #jung hoseok #hobi

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