#once again admin neon is asking for help
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imagine-knb · 1 year ago
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Kuroko no Basket Illustrations by Fujimaki Tadatoshi Source: Kuroko no Basket Replace 6
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hurricaneonanesthesia · 3 years ago
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hello can i request hdcs of valorant agents jett , phoenix , killjoy , neon , and viper with a s/o radiant who can like blood bend ? basically they can turn blood into solid weapons and have blood butterfly wings ? if this is too gory i apologize .
thanks !
Hi nonny! I’ll be more than happy to do this request! Hope you like it!!
~Admin Hurricane
Warnings: mentions of blood, slightly gory
Word Count: 200+ in Jett’s, 100+ in Phoenix’s, 100+ in Killjoy’s, 100+ in Neon’s, 100+ in Viper’s
Genre: fluff
Pairing(s): Jett x GN!Reader, Phoenix x GN!Reader, Killjoy x GN!Reader, Neon x GN!Reader, Viper x GN!Reader
Jett
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If she’s being honest, you actually freaked her out when you first bloodbent your enemies, quickly cutting them down and stopping them in their tracks. Bending them over to your will and forcing them to their feet. Barely flinching when you got hurt and in turn using your blood as weapons, carving them and shaping them as you pleased. There were times when she questioned whether you were human or not.
Of course she loves you, but she would be lying if you didn’t scare the shit out of her sometimes. She makes you promise to refrain from using your ability unless absolutely necessary because she may be young but she’s not dumb enough to not know that hurting yourself over and over again and losing blood because of it is detrimental to your wellbeing.
She specifically asks Brim if she could be paired up with you on missions because she has this fear of you overexerting yourself and just bleeding out. More than once she’s woken up from nightmares of seeing you collapsing to the floor and dying in her arms, but when she wakes up and sees you sleeping peacefully next to her she’s reassured that the two of you at the very least can live in the moment for the time being without being worried about if you’ll die tomorrow.
Phoenix
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He brushed off your bloodbending ability until he actually saw it in action and witnessed it with his own eyes. He just stood there, jaw dropped in shock as he watched all of his and well rather, your enemies crumple to the ground in pain, completely immobile
He immediately rushes over, to pull you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses his face against the back of your neck, and you pause, briefly losing control over your victims adversaries as you take note of Phoenix pressed up against you. 
“Y/N..” you hear him murmur, as he clings to you tightly, refusing to let you go. The poor souls that were being controlled by you take that time to scramble away. 
He doesn’t want you to lose your humanity, luckily for you, he’s there to keep you grounded.
Killjoy
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“So tell me again how your abilities work? Fascinating! What Brim? Why are you rubbing your temples like that?” 
Killjoy is no stranger experimenting and trying new things, and she’s all for things like the scientific method, but she shudders whenever she sees you working with your abilities.
She tries to help you with your bloodbending by giving you tech that’ll let you know when your iron levels are low or something like that
She’s not squeamish per say, but she does get uncomfortable when she sees your enemies writhing on the ground, unable to do anything. So in turn, you end up toning it down, after all you’d do anything for her <3
Neon
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Like Jett, she’s also scared of you and what you can do, but she doesn’t let it show as obviously. She loves you yes, but she also knows the importance of restraint and not letting yourself get caught up in your radiant abilities. 
She wears suppressors herself,  so she does her best to help keep you in check in case you ever lose control. Her worst fear is literally losing control of her powers and she doesn’t want the same to happen to you if you happen to be overcome by bloodlust. 
She’ll go out of her way to get some vitamins to help you so that you don’t become anemic and she ensures that you eat a good amount of food and drink enough water in the scenario that you don’t put a cap on your ability and just use it recklessly.
Viper
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She’s no stranger to bloody and gory stuff, she used to be a doctor. She’s intrigued by your ability and how it functions. Before the two of you got together she would have experimented on you to see the extent of your abilities if she could if it wasn’t for Brim stopping her. 
She gets an odd sense of satisfaction seeing your enemies contort in pain, and turns a blind eye, focusing on defusing the spike instead.
She actually gives you new ideas for what you could craft with your bloodbending
Viper finds it the funniest thing in the world to see you terrorizing the duelists.
Reminder that my requests are closed for the time being! However, when I reopen them again, be sure to send something my way if you’re interested! Requesting Rules are here!
Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist. Wanna know what else I’ll write for? Here you go!
Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!
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sfiddy · 4 years ago
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So Bad
For @academialynx , who made a donation to her local food bank in return for a fic!  This is a college AU, moderately prof/student (though the theme is that they DON’T break the rules) boatloads of yearning, and janky building maintenance that leads to getting locked in a closet.  She asked me to consider the Brandon Colbein song So Bad.  Which I did.  :)
Thank you, Dear!  Here we go!
Rated T
On AO3
On FF
On Tumblr!  (keep reading!)
Another champagne cork popped and a delighted cheer spread through the room.  Glasses, plastic cups, and hastily drained coffee mugs were refreshed and the party carried on.  Theirs was not a large music department, so to have attracted a fresh, exciting, multi-talented composition and collaborative piano specialist with a few international awards, one ‘early career’ grant and another from the National Endowment for the Arts meant their modest program was about to gain a little fresh clout at interdepartmental tenured faculty meetings.
“Congratulations again, Erik!”  Dr. Nadir Khan hauled Erik into a vigorous handshake and pumped for a full three seconds.  
Erik winced.  He’d be hamfisting the keys tomorrow if they kept this up.  “Thank you, Dean Khan.  It’s an honor to join as a full professor.”
“I am Nadir to you, and don’t forget it.”  Nadir refilled Erik’s plastic cup and tapped his department coffee mug against it, sloshing their champagne into frothy heads.  “It’s hard to believe it’s been five years, Erik!  You cost me a bet, I’ll have you know.  I didn’t think you’d stay after you had to teach that semester of History of Rock and Roll for non-majors.”
The lantern-jawed oboe professor laughed.  “Or the infamous Intro to Music Theory.”
“No, no,” disagreed Umbaldo Piangi, the portly voice teacher.  “When I went on sabbatical to Teatro La Fenice and you gave him The Chamber Music Outreach Project and graduate tutoring.  No warning!”  Even the big man’s clucking tongue was musical.  “But, Piangi is back, no?  I will cut back my performance hours and take back all the lessons and weekends and let Dr. Erik Devereaux return to his writing!”
“Actually,” Erik said, and the room stilled.  “The only part I disliked was the public part.  I never minded the private instruction.  If you would like to split the load, I’m happy to keep the instructional portion while you handle the tours, performances, and...outreach?”  He suppressed the grimace well enough.
Piangi, Italian down to his fine shoes, let out a whoop and grabbed Erik in a hug so tight it pressed his ribcage and nearly dislodged his delicate porcelain mask from it’s fine wire and leather fittings.
“Ah, my partner now!  I will call donors and show off the little tweeting songbirds with my lovely Carlotta while you teach them not to call for worms!  A toast!”  Piangi held up his plastic cup once again.  
Erik accepted a toast that crackled the edge of his plastic cup and hoped for something new and shiny to distract them.  Or for the lights to suddenly flicker and fail as they were prone to do, along with randomly closing doors in the terribly laid out office and work spaces.  The college had access to talent pipelines that the underfunded and neglected department had not been able to tap.  Their aggressive recruitment of him was a last ditch effort for change before the tiny group was relegated to a four piece for the university reagent’s cocktail brunch and a marching band for the far-better funded football team.
“To Dr. Devereaux!”
With a conspiratorial grin, Erik drained his cup and winked at Piangi.  “To the songbirds.”
Tenure in hand, Erik started his campaign.  Once he ditched the worst teaching credits to lecturers and adjuncts, he could focus on recruiting.  Specifically, to score a few respected but not-yet-headliner talents.  Emerging performers without a good gig had few options and the status and modest stipend to be a ‘visiting artist’ might be more attractive than the floating gulag of a cruise ship.  
A few excellent but relatively unknown performers could teach and perform, receive some finishing, and get quickly farmed out into the world.  The reputation-building move would be pricey, but no one gets paid dividends before investing.
His development grant would cover three such artists.  He got more than fifty applications.  Erik rubbed his eyes under the mask.  It was a good thing he never had plans-- it would be a long weekend.
The old music labs building had settled over the years and gained what the senior faculty referred to as ‘personality’.   Erik took this to mean ‘genially hazardous’.  No amount of facility requests or complaints brought the doors and keys division to do maintenance.
He was a quick learner though, and only got locked in his workroom twice before catching the door with his foot became second nature.   He even set a flaking brick, plucked from a neglected flower bed outside, in the corner by the door and kicked it against the frame as a doorstop.  Every time he came to his workroom, a narrow converted closet with a work bench and packed with shelves of manuscripts, music, errant repair kits and recording equipment, he would hit the outside light switch, unlock the door, step in, catch the door, then kick the brick.  
Switch, step, catch, kick.  His shoes were gaining new wear marks.
After kicking the brick into place, Erik opened his laptop and went over the last files.  He’d asked the department admins to strip out the audio files to just the audition pieces and remove identifying details from the fifty applications.  If he was going to invite talent, their first hurdle would be their musicianship.  Once he’d culled the herd to ten, he’d submitted his picks to the dean to select the three finalists.  Now they needed invitations.  Two vocalists and a classical guitarist made the cut and he spent the next few hours getting more acquainted with their files and ignoring the pings of his filling inbox.
At least it was just his inbox.  No one came to the music labs and his closet if they could help it.
If he was honest, no one came to meet him in person if they could help it.
Most performers were beautiful.  Entire websites and product lines were devoted to skincare for singers, makeup tutorials, look books and wardrobe consulting.  Erik’s particular variety of deformity would stand out in any circumstances, but in an entire department stuffed with the striking, stunning, and unconventionally glorious, he bordered on eyesore.  Even Piangi could command a room with his generous, rosy smiles and booming laugh.  
The mask was the best combination of memorable and functional he could muster.  Yes, surgery was an option but who signed up for years of unnecessary pain and the risk of infection?  He had better things to do.  
Like meet with his new visiting artists.  
The classical guitarist had supple wrists and forearms like Popeye.  His rolled cuffs drew the eye to the action while his cleverly knotted scarf kept you looking at his face, framed by artfully mussed hair.  
“We’re looking forward to your first concerts and hope you’ll consider collaborations with local programs.”
The baritone had a one in a million voice.  How he hadn’t been snapped up for opera yet was a mystery but Erik supposed it was his poor presence.  When you had the goods, you still had to sell them, and the young man’s love of neon, bad hair, and questionable repertoire (pin the tail on a Hal Leonard page) needed polish.  His work was shockingly precise and sounded like he had a cathedral in his mouth.
“Our faculty and staff are a rich resource for young performers and are always eager to assist.  We often work in parallel with the communications department and local professionals to prepare our artists for the culture and community as well as the stage.”
The soprano was the risk.  The recording had been largely boilerplate and her prior experience thin.  The reason she got in was a one-point-two second pause in her audition tape.  It was the silence that told Erik she had chops.  
Imagine, a soprano unafraid of silence.  It had been late in the weekend when he selected her and had not yet been able to examine the head shot.
“I… um...”
“Yes, Dr. Devereaux?”
“Welcome, Miss Daaé.”
The visiting artists would survey classes, provide demonstrations and guest lectures, and appear at university events, auditions, and generally get the word out that the department was shifting to a growth phase.  That was the official description.  Unofficially, there would be a mountain of effort to make each emerging artist a shot on goal for the department.  Recording deals, major and paid appearances, and successful auditions all counted toward the tally.  
Guitar was not Erik’s forte, and as much as he could contribute to the baritone’s look and polish, Erik had cultivated a far more… refined profile than the young man aspired to.  Erik maintained collars sharp enough to cut bread and a spotless sheen on his porcelain mask.  Right now, Dean Khan aspired to cut the young man’s mullet tail off.  
“Excellent, Miss Daaé, right on time.”  Erik slid the fall board up and they prepared to work.  She understood how to modulate her tone, how to select the emotional pitch to match the song, to contrast with it for effect.  She explored her range and willingly failed to find her borders.  It all made for an excellent student.
It was the quiet that made her breathtaking.  The anticipation of her.  Tenths of seconds that tightened the chest and made a quiver run through the blood.  Not often, only when it mattered, and only when it would matter enough to do so.  
When he could stand it no more, he asked her about it.
“I’m sorry, I can try to stop.”
“I didn’t ask you to stop, I asked when you started doing it.”
She considered him, her ribbons of curling hair twisting as she shifted.  “When my father was sick.  I could feel the need for silences because he couldn’t talk anymore.  It just felt… right.”
Erik nodded.  “Again.”
She’d been a late bloomer.  A ghost on the scene and at least five years older than the rest of the sopranos at her stage.  It also meant she hadn’t spent her entire high school and college career belting Broadway in the recital rooms, building nodes on her vocal chords.  
They finished late one night and he walked her to her car.  “So what did you do for practice?”
She pinked under the parking lot lights.  “I, um… waited tables at an Italian restaurant.  You know, where your server might sing opera when they bring you breadsticks?”
Erik nodded.  “Parmesan and Puccini?”
Bless her, she giggled.  “Bellinis and Bellini.  A few really knew when they were hearing but most just wanted to hear Nessun Dorma because they heard it on Youtube.  I managed to get a few singing jobs out of it but I mostly just waited tables.”  They stopped at her car but she hadn’t reached for her keys yet.  “I was a bartender and the second understudy for a Gilbert and Sullivan society when I saw your announcement.”
“Their loss,” Erik said.  He left off the second half.
“Thanks.”  Christine hesitated.  “I didn’t expect to be accepted, so… thanks.”  
Something changed in the breeze.  Something cool and soft in the night air mixed with the gold light pouring down from the lights.  It highlighted the curls that spiralled out of control around her neck as she tilted her head just so.  
It was just a moment, a funny thump that ricocheted in his chest at her upturned face, her soft smile.  Maybe her eyes flicked down, maybe her sharp inhale had a little catch in it.  Maybe it was the way her lip twitched, but a red flag suddenly waved in Erik’s head and he stepped back carefully.  He had a powerful fear of heat and burns.
“Yes, of course.  The, uh, department was very happy to offer the opportunity.”
She blinked.  “Of course.  Well, thanks for the great session and walking me to my car.  Have a nice evening, Erik.”
Christine drove away and Erik stood in the parking lot for some minutes after her taillights had faded.  He imagined it.  Surely, he’d taken a friendly conversation the wrong way.  She wasn’t his student, strictly speaking, but he had influence over her career, which would be just as bad.  
Besides, he had completely misread the whole thing.  Surely.  Women didn’t look up at him like that-- like he would kiss them.  After a walk after dark, telling him about themselves, and looking at him like that.
No one looked at him like... that.
Oh no.
She wasn’t strictly his student.  He was her mentor.  Even a brief thought made it obvious and completely inappropriate.  Did she think it would improve her opportunities?
Erik swallowed.  No, if that was the game she wouldn’t have backed off.  Surely he’d misread the situation.
They brewed tea together.  She remembered his favorite oolong.
He saw a cascade of curling hair on his way to the post office and his heart leapt.
It wasn’t her.  The disappointment was too confusing to examine.
His mouth went dry when her sweater slipped from her shoulder.  Then he knocked the music from the stand.
She smiled and helped him pick up the sheets.  
There were freckles on her shoulder.
... 
Five months into the visiting artist tour and Piangi had the concert hall packed for their first performances.  Franco the guitarist, who preferred just the one name, would play a twenty minute set, followed by the baritone Burton Armstrong, as baritoney a name as Erik had ever heard, then Christine, and finally Franco would play again with accompaniment.  
Erik was content to stay in a tiny box seat far to the side as Piangi introduced each performer.  Franco had gained the stage he deserved, and Burton had been convinced to get a proper haircut and suit, and sang a particularly impressive Russian ballad set.  
Christine was introduced and settled onto the stage.  She was radiant in dark blue, and decorated her baroque set with agility.  From his perch, Erik could as easily imagine her distributing bellinis as gracing an opera stage.  It was not an insult.  After her short set, she nodded and was joined by Burton.  A duet?  
She looked up and found him, up in his perch.  She nodded, and the two launched into a series of excerpts from Semele, Handel’s somewhat neglected tale of a torrid affair between a mortal woman and the god, Jupiter.
Their gazes met as she sang.
O Jove! In pity teach me which to choose,
Incline me to comply, or help me to refuse!
The baritone thundered.
Too well I read her meaning,
But must not understand her.
If Erik’s ears heard the rest of the concert, he could not recall it later.
Dean Khan adjourned the faculty meeting.  “Oh Erik, if you have a moment?”
They waited until the room was cleared and Nadir closed the door, then casually looked over the remaining pastries.  “Excellent concert last month.  The work with Burton is certainly paying off.”  
Erik leaned against the table.  “His socks were bright green, but we felt it was a workable compromise.”
“Franco is excellent in front of the crowd.  Has he met the flamenco dancers yet?”
“I put in a call.  I think he’s going to their weekly meeting next Thursday.”
“Marvelous.  Let me know how that goes when you hear, won’t you?”
“Of course.”  Erik felt his chest tighten the longer Nadir perused the snacks and chose to tear off the bandage himself.  “Anything else?”
“There is, in fact,” Nadir did not look up from the muffins.  “Christine’s performance was exceptional.  Truly filled with passion.”
Erik tried to take a sip of coffee but his cup was empty.  He faked it.  “She’s a wonderful artist.”
“Yes.  I couldn’t help but notice--” Nadir paused over the croissants, then passed them over to examine the cookies.  “You two seem to have a unique and strong mentor-trainee relationship.”
“Thank you.”  It had not been a question.  There was nothing here… yet.  “We work well together.”  
“I’m glad to hear that.  The program you’ve created is admirable for it’s transparency and integrity.”
“I agree.  Thank you for noticing.”
Nadir looked up with a slight nod, then selected a macadamia cookie.  “I’m sure the remaining six months will fly by, Erik.”
He had no idea how to respond.
...
Six months.  There were six months left in the visiting artist term.  There were more sessions, a mini tour, and a series of small concerts meant to showcase the new talent the department had ‘produced’.  
Six months of lies, pretending he was misunderstanding something.  Pretending he didn’t notice the way she was at his side and on his mind.  Then she would leave him to the dull, overworked life he’d made for himself in the hopes of making a name for himself while simultaneously avoiding attention.  More lies, but easier to swallow.  
Her voice came from the hallway.  “Erik?  I’m heating up some water, would you like tea?”
“Is it the one you brought?”
A light laugh.  Sparkling.  “Of course.”
He dropped his work and grabbed his cup.  “Be right there.”
A very successful fundraiser was wrapping up on the top floor of the performing arts center.  It had a view over the campus, the nice side, and the glow of downtown caught the streaking rain on the tall glass walls.  
The donors had been generous, delighted with the new features of the program and the willingness to be accessible.  Erik stayed to the side, avoiding the center of the room where Piangi and his wife Carlotta took up residence.  Nadir circulated the room, nudging him out from time to time for a refill and to participate.  When forced to do so, Erik sloshed some middling red wine into his glass and let himself slip into Christine’s gravity for a few minutes before drifting away again.  
He could feel her gaze.
The cocktail party was to end at eleven-thirty, and by then nearly all the guests had left.  The last ones were rushed  out and Piangi hurried to the bar.  
“Open season!” 
A quick crush to the bar and every open bottle was ‘liberated’ to the long-suffering exhibits.  Christine topped off her glass and passed the bottle to a fellow soprano, hardly twenty years old, and the two laughed and kicked off their heels.  Piangi and Burton laughed over an earlier flub and the cello player, finally able to pack his instrument and relax, demanded and received a full glass.
Erik tipped back a hearty, warm swallow and emerged from the hinterlands.
“Oh, hi Dr. Devereaux!  Did you just get here?” teased Carlotta.  “Your legend only grows the more you hide.”
“All part of my devious plan,” he conceded.  Christine’s giggle mingled with the laughs of her peers.  “If you’ll excuse me.  Piangi, brilliant as always.”
“Same to you, Erik!  We plan many parties now, no?”
Easing his way towards the mirth, Erik relaxed.  There were plenty of others around, and this was just the after party to a long dog and pony show.  Listen to the pretty songbirds and throw money at the program, invitation only.  They all deserved drinks after three hours of that.
Christine was plucking a pin from her hair.  She shook the curls loose.  “Hi Erik!  God, I’m so glad to see you.”
“Oh?”
She held up a bottle.  “Yeah, you need a refill.”  
It had been a long night.  These events could be tricky to navigate.  Sometimes there was politics, other times business rivals.  More often, donors expected special privilege and access in exchange for their checks, as if the last hundred years of progress meant nothing.  The way a few of them had looked at Erik, maybe it didn’t.  
He let her pour some white wine over the dregs of his red.  Improvised rosé.  “Everything go okay?”  
“Good enough.  I think I have some auditions, and some stuff nearby might open up for me.”
“That’s great.  Who with?”
A nice chorus.  A solid baroque group.  Both could springboard to bigger things.  A few bigger things were here.  
“What’s bigger?”  She asked, her eyes dark and soft.  
He had not meant to speak, and now he rushed his words.  “Things!  Choirs, operas.  There’s a few small opera troupes and there’s churches that need choral directors that know how to work with organ and piano.”
She sniggered.  “Organs.”  The other soprano dissolved into giggles.
Erik pulled out his phone.  Clearly neither was driving tonight.  He absently tallied up his glasses and admitted he wasn’t either.
“Do you play the organ, Erik?”
“Yes.”
Christine stepped closer and, on pure instinct, Erik put his arm around her as she turned her head to speak.
“Can I watch?”  
His collar was tight.  He pulled up the app and ordered a car.
They ran through the rain, more than sprinkled, less than soaked.  Plenty wet to shiver from the chill of the driver’s exuberant air conditioning, though.  Between giggles and poorly composed directions, they dropped off the other soprano who wobbled successfully to her door before their driver sped away.  Christine did not shift away to the other seat, but leaned into him, tucking herself against his side.  
The driver glanced in the rear view mirror, then looked away.
She was cool and smooth.  Her loosened curls had tightened from the wet and tickled his neck and brushed against his mask.  
Her hand on his thigh.  Erik said nothing.  If he was silent there was a kind of deniability, or denial at least, of what was happening.  If he could deny that her fingernails caught on the inner seam of his trousers, then she could deny that his hand was firmly planted at her waist, holding her close.
And if she could deny that, then she could also deny that her nose bumped his chin, her ragged breath loud in his ears.  And they could both deny that their lips grazed, a not-kiss somehow more intimate than if their lips moved and pulled at each other.  Like her singing, it was the pause that made your breath catch and your insides tug.
“What number?”
Dashboards lights reflected in her eyes.  “That one,” she said, and cautiously settled.  The driver pulled forward and Christine unbuckled.  
“Good night, Erik.  See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Christine.”
The driver glanced in the rearview.  Erik looked down.  “Sorry.”
The driver shrugged.  
One more month.
He was hiding.  He’d been hiding for weeks; stopped looking for her, stopped even wondering where she was or if she was alone.  There was no way to be near her without the pretense of a piano that wouldn’t leave him shaking.  No way to think about her without wanting.
He was Erik, a composer, a conductor, performer, designer of auditory spaces and translator of music.  He was a collaborative pianist and vocal specialist.  He’d given everything to music and the service of it, the delivery of it.  He didn’t need this. He’d never had this.
No one ever offered.  So he’d found fulfillment elsewhere, until now.
Erik hunched over his work, safely tucked into his corner of the music labs building.  Between grading, senior thesis submissions, revisions to his own publications, and a request for a letter of recommendation, he could be plenty busy late into the night with no need for anyone to--
“Hello?  Erik?”
Erik snatched at his mask and settled it.  He’d been found.  Time to lie, except he can’t lie to her.
“Can I help you with something, Christine?”  He gathered a stack and stood.  She met him by his door.
“Well, yeah,” she paused, blocking his path momentarily before stepping aside.  “I need your signature on my visiting artist release.  And another on my endorsement for my new job.”
Erik hefted his armload to the work closet.  “I’m sure they look forward to meeting you.  Come on.”  He unlocked the door and held it open, then followed behind her, hitting the light switch with his elbow before catching the door on his foot, then he kicked the brick into place.  He had to hold the stack to keep it from spilling across the work table.
She handed him the forms.  Erik moved to a span of clean tabletop and started scanning the release form.  Government agency boilerplate to satisfy the grant was mixed with flowery language so no one would suspect they were anything but artists.  Yesterday Franco had brought Burton’s form-- yep, this was Christine’s.  So on and so forth.
Erik had just finished scratching out his signature when he heard a familiar scrape.
“Why on earth do you keep a-”
Click.
“--brick?”
Erik pressed the heel of his hand into his chin.  
“Are we… locked in?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”  A faint rumble vibrated in the walls.  “I don’t suppose that was just… construction?”
Erik let out a mirthless laugh.  “There were storms brewing earlier.  Besides, does this building look like they work on it?”
“Not really.”
Another rumble, louder, and the light fixture jittered.  
Christine finally took a deep breath.  “Have you been avoiding me?”
“No!  Yes.  I don’t know.”  He touched his hairline, recapped a pen.  “We crossed a line.  I had to get back behind it and I couldn’t if we…”  His hands skated across the table top nervously.  
“Is this about being my mentor?”
Erik barked an ugly, bitter laugh.  “What else?  God, you just, out of nowhere, with your smiles, and the way you look at me, and sing to me, and the Semele…” Erik’s skin grew tight as he recalled the cocktail party.  He turned, face growing hot beneath the porcelain and his throat tightening.  He was a ruin.
“--and the touching and wanting and you’re… you’re just going to leave!  I’m a fucking idiot!”
On cue, an extended, throaty roar of thunder rattled the stone and brick until the bare bulb above could suffer no more.  With a loud pop, the narrow room went dark.  They both scuffled in the dark until they had hold of something sturdy.
“Erik?”
He was embarrassed.  He was frustrated.  “What.”
“You need to sign the other form.”
“Want to get away that bad?  Fine.”  He reached for a desk lamp and tried to turn it on.  He flipped the switch furiously.  The power was out.
“Here,” Christine held up her phone and lit the screen.  Her screensaver was… them? Beside a piano together?
Erik snatched a pen from the table and slashed his name.  “There.  Just search for facilities or call the university police.  They can unlock the door.”
“Erik, did you even look at it?”
“Why bother.”
She snorted at him.  “God, you’re so blind.”
“The lights were out.”
“Fine, you want to be a jerk, be one, but at least look at where I’m taking a job before you decide to walk.”
She lit up her phone once more and he glared at the page like it was staring at his mask.  He tracked the offer and terms until he reached the party names and…
“You took a job at… a middle school?  Here?”  He looked up into the dim light.  “You’re not leaving?”
“Meet the new grade six to eight choir director.  Go Scotties.  And now you have no direct influence over my career.”
Her screensaver dimmed, and before it went dark, Erik could make out a flash of their faces, turned to each other.  He wondered if Nadir had seen this moment, because they looked as passionate as lovers despite being feet apart.
The room went black again, and he could hear her moving.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That much has been apparent.  What do you know?”
She was close.  Close enough to feel the way she shifted the air.  “I know way too much about motif design, lyric phrasing--”
Closer.  “Go on.”  Her hips were near his. 
“Harmonic theory, vocals”
 “Can attest.”  Her fingertips were at his jawline, tracing his mask.  “I thought it would be cold.”
“It’s been on my face all day.  Early Romantic era competition and,” his voice scraped over gravel, “that I want you. So bad.”
Her kiss was her reply.  Erik’s hands flew around her as she pivoted to the table with him, dragging his mask upwards.  He gasped as cool air brushed his face, followed by light, curious fingertips and her hot mouth.  Erik knocked over the stack of papers and files with a satisfying splatter.
“Is that light over there?” she asked, dragging her lips from his.  “Around that cabinet door?”
“What?” he panted.  “I thought that was a panel.”
She pushed him off gently, peering up at the wall.  “Right there, see?”
Sure enough, there was a thin line of light.  It was a hidden door with a magnetic latch. 
“They can’t keep the regular door from locking you in but they put a trick door at the back?”  Erik complained as he climbed through awkwardly.  Very awkwardly.  Her lips were red and swollen.
“Let me grab my things and we can get out of here.”
Erik checked his watch.  “First, we’re turning in your forms.”
“It’s almost five!”
“We’ll make it if we run.”
Panting, they caught the dean just as he was packing up to leave.
“Erik, Christine?  Are you alright?  That was some storm we--”
Erik shoved the forms at him.  “Yep. Terrible storm.  Here.”
“Indeed, Erik.  Why, your hair is a mess and I’ve never seen your shirt untucked.”
“Big wind.  Yep.  Almost hit by lightning.  Here, time stamp?”
“Miss Daaé, you may want to adjust…”
“For God’s sake just take the stupid form so we can go!” Christine shouted.
Nadir laughed and scanned the forms.  “I don’t want to see you until Monday, Erik.  You better be late.”
He didn’t make it in until Wednesday.
...
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littlereyofsunlight · 5 years ago
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The Fire is So Delightful
Hi @geekynerddemon, I’m your @steggyfanevents secret santa! You chose modern AU from the options I gave you, so I wrote you some firefighter Steve Rogers and a self-rescuing Peggy Carter. There’s a cat in a tree, plus a bunch of the usual suspects from the MCU. Chapter 2 coming shortly!
Read on AO3
ch 1/2 Rating: Gen Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Characters: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sif, Dum Dum Dugan Additional Tags: Firefighter AU, Modern Day AU, romcom, meet-cute, the gang’s all here Summary: Peggy rescues a cat from a tree. Steve doesn’t help.
“Will you look after Liho for me?” Natasha’s sudden request startled Peggy out of her contemplation of the drink in front of her. They were at their usual place, a dingy little bar down the block from work where the bartenders all knew them and they could hold a conversation without having to shout over music or dodge the advances of the neighborhood suits, who generally avoided the place owing to its distinctly aggressive lack of atmosphere.
“Sorry?”
Natasha kept her eyes on her own drink, fidgeting with the straw. Natasha, normally a beer drinker, or after especially difficult weeks just straight vodka, had ordered one of the bar’s ridiculous cocktails. It was tequila-based, neon orange, came in a Tiki cup and had what looked to Peggy like an entire mint plant sticking out the top. “I’m going out of town for the holiday and I need a cat-sitter.”
Peggy had worked with Natasha on the analyst team for six years now, but she’d only ever been invited to her home once, a few months ago. “I’d be happy to, I have no plans.” As a rule, she saved the trans-Atlantic flights for better weather. Her parents weren’t big on Christmas, anyways.
Natasha gave a quick little half smile, and Peggy noticed her shoulders drop a good inch. “Thank you.” She took a sip of her drink, holding the ostentatious garnish away from her face as she did so. “My, um, ex-girlfriend is also going to be home for the holiday, so I didn’t want to just do a short trip this year. I’ll get you a key next week.” Then she changed the subject back to work, and they strategized about their supervisor’s latest power play—and speculated how their beloved admin Darcy Lewis might undermine it—until much too late for a work night.
Two weeks later, Peggy set her bag down just inside the threshold of Natasha’s bright, clean two-story duplex. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”
Nat waved her hand. “It’s such a long drive between your neighborhood and mine. If you’d be more comfortable at home, of course, Liho will be fine.”
Peggy looked around the downstairs living area, flooded with early afternoon light. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly comfortable here. I just know how very private you are.”
Nat gave her a shy smile. “I think we’re past all that, aren’t we?”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Peggy smiled broadly back.
“Okay, bedroom is upstairs and there are fresh sheets and towels and everything. Help yourself to anything in the fridge or pantry, of course. I got some of those yogurts you always eat, plus this—” Nat thrust a nice bottle of red wine into Peggy’s hands, though Peggy wasn’t sure exactly where she’d been hiding it up until then “—Her food is on the counter, please just the listed amounts, because she is a terrible beggar and will try to weasel more food out of you.“
“Noted,” Peggy said.
“And her litter boxes are in the bathrooms, the litter is flushable.”
“Convenient.”
“Also, she sometimes tries to escape out the front door, so look out for that.”
“So to review, your cat is a cat who acts like a cat,” Peggy teased. “I have this handled, I promise. Liho and I will get some quality time on your couch with everyone’s favorite streaming network while you spend the holiday with your sexy ex. Now get out of here. Maria’s waiting for you, isn’t she?”
“Thank you, Peggy,” Natasha said, as she rolled her eyes but pulled her in for a quick hug nonetheless. “Liho’s hiding upstairs, but she’ll probably come down around dinnertime, so like, six, if she doesn’t get curious about you before then.”
“Is she very interested in people?” Peggy’s grandmother kept cats in her little London flat, and they were always all over the place regardless of who was visiting, though she supposed that could have been more out of necessity. The few times she and her brother Michael had tried to play hide-and-seek while visiting Nana had been very anticlimactic: there were only two good child-sized (or even cat-sized) hiding spots in the whole place.
Nat shook her head. “She and I get along because we’re very similar.”
“So if I lose her, I should just put out a saucer of vodka.”
“It might work,” Nat allowed. “Smart-ass.”
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nat looked up the stairs one more time. “Thanks again. Text me if you need anything.”
“We won’t.” Peggy raised her eyebrow. “Text me if you get some this weekend.”
Nat actually blushed at that, to Peggy’s surprise. “You’re sort of wearing on my gratitude, here,” she grumbled fondly. She picked up her bag and took her coat off the hook.
Peggy threw up her hands. “Yes, I’m trying to get you to leave already!”
Laughing over her shoulder, Nat finally opened the door. “See you in a week.”
“Drive safe!” Peggy called after her.
“Oh!” Nat called, stopping beside her car. “My neighbors are all pretty friendly, don’t be surprised if someone pops by.”
Before Peggy could formulate a response (How friendly? Which neighbors? Why aren’t any of them watching your cat?), Nat was in her car and on her way. “Thanks for that advice, I guess,” Peggy said to herself. She closed the door and looked around. At least this Christmas she’d be alone in a new location, she mused. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick message to her friend Angie back home, even though Peggy knew she’d be asleep already. She scrolled aimlessly through the apps on her phone, hovering over the ‘dating’ folder she’d shoved Hinge and Bumble and all the rest into after the last in a series of disastrous dates over the summer. Peggy hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was lonely.
True to Natasha’s word, a small, sleek black cat poked her head through the top two spindles of the stairs promptly at six pm and, upon seeing Peggy on the couch but not Natasha, she let out a series of squeaking chirps. Peggy put down the novel she’d borrowed from Nat’s bookshelf—Lauren Beukes’s Broken Monsters, and here Peggy had thought Nat to be more of a nonfiction reader—and got up to see what Liho’s dinner situation was.
Natasha very clearly cared a great deal for the skinny little cat who, according to Nat, had turned up on her doorstep one day and invited herself to stay forever. There was a stainless steel water dish that continuously burbled up a little fountain, and two shallow dishes, one for wet food and one for dry. On the counter above the cat’s dishes, Nat had thoughtfully set out Liho’s food, all fancy brand-name specialty stuff. Liho chirped at her a few more times while Peggy dumped a can of wet into the designated bowl, and she kept making adorable little nomming noises while she chowed down. Peggy stroked her hand down the cat’s back and Liho jumped and shot Peggy an affronted look before she went back to her food.
“No touchy while eating, got it.” Peggy left the cat to her meal and grabbed her phone to see what delivery options were available in Nat’s neighborhood. As she tried to decide between Mexican and an interesting Vietnamese-fusion place, the doorbell rang.
Peggy opened the door to a barefoot, confused-looking man wearing a t-shirt despite the frigid weather. He sketched a brief wave before launching into a query in sign language, but she couldn’t hope to follow. Peggy waved back and gave him a broad “huh” gesture. He nodded and reached up to turn on the hearing aids hidden under his hat.
“Is Nat home?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, she’s not in,” Peggy responded.
“I’m her neighbor, Clint,” he said, pointing his thumb at the other side of the duplex. “I was hoping she’d want to split a takeout order.”
“Oh!” Peggy said, realization dawning. “I’m Peggy, Nat’s friend from work. I’m watching her cat for the week. Did she tell you she was going back for the holiday?”
Clint watched her lips closely and nodded as she spoke. “Right, sorry, I forgot.” He scratched the back of his head under his knit cap and squinted at her. “Do you maybe want to go in on some takeout?”
A grin spread across her face and she opened the door wider. “What do you think of the Vietnamese place?”
Clint gave her both thumbs up. “The báhn bao are freaking amazing.”
When Nat texted later that evening to let Peggy know she’d arrived, Peggy and Clint snapped a quick photo for her with their very impressive spread of food and Liho just barely visible in the background, creeping on the interlopers in her home from the top of the stairs. Nat texted back a laughing with tears emoji and then when you go to bed tonight double check under the covers. she sometimes attacks feet if she’s not expecting them
Noted, Peggy replied. More normal cat behavior.
Nat sent back the eye-roll emoji.
Have you seen Maria yet? Peggy hoped she wasn’t being too nosy. She and Nat had been friendly for years but this new level, with in-home cat-sitting and ex-sex-discussing, was still pretty new for them.
In response, a photo appeared of Nat’s slim fingers around a half-drunk pint glass. she’s meeting me in 30 minutes, got here early for some liquid courage
Peggy sent her a string of crossed fingers and martini glasses, punctuated with a purple heart.
Nat sent back a purple heart and Peggy felt it in her chest, warm and liquid. She didn’t have many good friends, and all of them were back home in the UK. Nat, standoffish, prickly, elusive Nat, was turning out to be her first real friend in the States.
Just then, Liho jumped up into Peggy’s lap and butted her head against the hand holding her phone. Now she was ready for Peggy to pet her.
Clint was good company, and he turned out to unabashedly love Love Island, which Peggy watched to keep up with Angie’s opinions on the subject, so he and Peggy re-started the beginning of the third series together and talked about how Camilla was too good for the rest of the crowd.
While Peggy got ready for bed, she poked her head around the upstairs, looking for Liho as she brushed her teeth and slathered on moisturizer, dipping back into the bathroom to spit and then to dab on a spot treatment.
“Where are you hiding, miss?” She peeked behind the door of Nat’s second bedroom, set up as an office. She spun the desk chair around, but there was no cat curled in a ball in the seat. Peggy went into Nat’s bedroom and threw back the covers, but no luck. She called and called, but Liho didn’t poke her head out, didn’t answer with a chirp. Peggy searched the whole house twice, and then remembered what Nat had said about the front door. Had it been open too long when Clint left? Peggy had said goodnight and gone to put away her leftovers, she hadn’t watched to see if the cat stayed inside. She couldn’t remember seeing her after that.
Feeling out of sorts, Peggy grabbed her phone and Nat’s key, tossed a hoodie on over her sleeping shirt and shoved her feet into her sneakers. She opened the door and stepped onto the stoop, calling softly for Liho as she shut the door firmly behind her, in case the cat was still inside. “If you’re out here, darling, please come back inside.” Peggy shivered as a cold wind blew down the street, throwing the bare branches of the tree in Nat’s yard against each other. A full moon and a cloudless sky, plus the street lamps and the festive lights on many of the houses meant the street was fairly well-lit, even at this hour.
She turned on the flashlight on her phone and swept the light around the walkway, focusing on the spots in shadow. “Liho!” She stepped off the stoop and into the yard. Over the wind, Peggy heard it. An unmistakable chirp. She spun around, trying to see the cat. “Come here, kitty!” Against her better judgement, she made kissy noises and thanked the lord no one else seemed to be out at this hour. Another chirp, and this time Peggy realized where it was coming from. She aimed her light at the tree. Standing in a vee about halfway up the old oak was Liho, shivering in the wind.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Peggy said, “did you get yourself stuck up there?” Liho chirped back at her and stayed put.
Peggy eyed the tree trunk. She’d climbed more difficult ones, to be sure, but not since primary school. She tucked her phone and keys into her pocket and zipped her hoodie up to her chin. “I’m gonna get you down,” she told the cat. “Don’t worry,” she said, mostly to herself.
As Peggy climbed, Liho retreated further up into the branches. “That’s the wrong direction!” Peggy complained. But she could keep going, so she did. The street lamp provided decent illumination, and it was a dry, cold night, so the bark wasn’t slippery against her rubber-soled shoes.
A truck rumbled down the street and stopped at a nearby house and Peggy hoped the occupants wouldn’t notice her, climbing a tree at midnight in her pajamas.
“Uh, ma’am?” A voice called up from below.
“Bugger,” Peggy cursed. No such luck.
She didn’t dare look down, the branches were starting to get thin. Liho watched the man on the street with some interest, though, which might work in Peggy’s favor. “Ma’am I’m with the fire department. Is everything okay up there?”
Peggy had to laugh. “I’m fine, just retrieving a cat. But you seem to be short a hook and ladder, or even a siren. So try again, Mr. Fireman.”
She heard a sigh from down below, but Liho was cautiously creeping towards Peggy along one of the topmost branches. “That’s it, come here.” Peggy reached out her hand and Liho came closer. Peggy braced herself against the trunk of the tree, hugging it with her thighs, and then she grabbed the cat by the scruff of her neck. Liho let out an undignified squawk but didn’t fight her grip, allowing Peggy to drag her close to her chest and hold her there.
“Good job,” the man encouraged.
“No thanks to you,” Peggy muttered. She climbed down. Liho, to her credit, submitted to Peggy’s hold like a kitten in her mama’s jaws. Soon enough, they were both out of the tree.
The supposed firefighter stood several feet away on the sidewalk, watching. “All set?” he asked.
“We’re fine.” She finally got a good look at him then, and well, he did look the part. At least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, fair hair, and a clean-cut All-American sort of look, if the chiseled jawline throwing shadows under the streetlamps were anything to go by. He wasn’t in his gear, of course, just jeans and a short leather jacket. It was still a good look on him.
He looked back up the tree. “You, uh, you’re pretty good at that.” He looked back to her and gave her a small smile.
“It’s not my first tree.” She looked him up and down. “Are you really a firefighter?”
He hooked his thumb back at his truck. “Not on duty. I heard the call on my radio, and I was nearby.” Now Peggy could see the bar of lights on the top of his truck. “I’m guessing you didn’t call this in, though? You definitely had things under control.”
She smiled despite herself. “I did have it under control.”
He nodded. “Well, glad I could be of no help at all.”
“You certainly did get here quickly, so points for that, I suppose.” She shifted the cat against her and took a tentative step closer.
“I live in the neighborhood.” He took a step closer, too. Peggy could see the wry smile on his lush mouth now. “Steve Rogers,” he offered.
“Peggy Carter. I’m just cat-sitting for a friend.” She cut him a look under her lashes, having a bit of fun. “But I’m starting to see why my friend likes this location.” Steve open and shut his mouth a few times, and then his reply was cut off by the wail of a siren. They both turned to look as a fire truck careened down the street. Steve stepped into the center of the road to flag them down. As the siren got louder, Peggy felt Liho tense under her hands, her front claws digging into Peggy’s sweatshirt. She tried to hold her close, but the cat squirmed away and bounded right back up into the tree. “Oh, Bloody Nora!”
He came back to stand beside her, hands on his hips. “Did the cat just run back up the tree?”
Peggy sighed. “The cat just ran back up the tree.”
“Well,” Steve scratched at the back of his head as he looked up to where Liho had perched herself, “I have that ladder now.”
“Captain Rogers!” Someone called from over by the truck. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Steve checked his watch. “Lieutenant Barnes, somehow I made it here a full five minutes before you did.”
“Aw, Steve, it’s a cat in a tree.”
“I told him we should get our hustle on for any call in your neighborhood, Cap,” another firefighter piped up.
“You should hustle for any call anywhere, come on, team” Steve’s voice got more commanding as he spoke with the members of the crew.
“Is that the cat’s owner?” another crew member piped up, gesturing at Peggy as she climbed down from the truck.
“I’m caring for her, yes,” Peggy replied.
The woman looked up at the tree and back at Peggy. “Would she let someone hold her if we got the ladder up there?”
Peggy considered. “She’s not great with new people.”
The firefighter nodded and looked back at Steve. “Cat bag.”
“Cat bag,” Steve agreed. “Ms. Carter here already got her down once, so I don’t think this one’s a jumper.”
The rest of the crew all exchanged looks, disbelief clear on their faces despite the truck’s flashing lights throwing strange shadows over the group. “Uh, what?” The handsome one Steve had called Barnes broke the awkward silence.
“I got her down,” Peggy explained. “Then your siren scared her and she went right back up.”
Another firefighter—also a handsome man, Peggy noticed—looked slowly between Peggy and the tree. “So if you didn’t have any trouble getting up there, then why …?” He squinted back at Peggy.
“She didn’t call this in, it must have been a neighbor.” Steve clapped his hands together. “All right, it’s cold out and I’m sure that cat wants to be warm inside, just like the rest of us. Who’s going up?”
“Not it,” both Barnes and the other one said at the same time.
“Wilson,” Barnes whined, “I got the last one.”
“Allergies, man. You’d have to dose me with Benadryl if you want me within five feet of a cat.” Wilson shrugged. “Sif, can you take this one?’
The female firefighter—yet again a very attractive person, statuesque with dark hair and big, dark eyes, Peggy was starting to wonder if the entire engine company put out a calendar every year—already had a burlap sack, which Peggy assumed was the cat bag, in her hands, along with a length of nylon rope and carabiners. She rolled her eyes at the other two. “Well, it’s not like Cap’s going to send Dum Dum up after her, is it?”
As if on cue, a fourth fire fighter stuck his head out of the truck’s door. “Everything okay out here?”
“Thanks for the help, Dugan!” Steve shouted back.
“Oh! Cap! Didn’t realize you were here!”
Steve waved him off and turned back to Sif. “You don’t want the ladder?”
Sif looked at the tree. “Nah, it’ll go faster and scare the cat less if I climb up. What’s her name?” The last part she addressed to Peggy.
“Liho.”
Sif nodded, put on some thick work gloves she produced from a pocket, clipped the cat bag to her belt and up she went.
“You know,” Peggy said, standing next to Steve as they watched Sif’s ascent, “if you lot hadn’t showed up I’d already be back in the house with the cat I’ve been entrusted to look after.”
She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. “But then you wouldn’t have met me or my motley crew, and wouldn’t that have been a shame.”
Peggy eyed him speculatively and took a breath. “Jury’s still out. Perhaps you could buy me coffee sometime, Captain, as an apology for keeping me up so late. Give me more time to decide.” She felt brazen, hitting on a man who was there to do his work, but he wasn’t her neighbor, after all. And she was intrigued by this man, his apparent kindness, how he showed up even when his shift was over, not to mention the easy way he had with the people under his command. Captain Steve Rogers was the sort of man she wanted to get to know better. And, not to put too fine a point on it ... he was sexy.
Half his mouth quirked up in a self-conscious smile and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Coffee, huh?” He looked at her, his ridiculously long eyelashes casting shadows on his face in the strange light. “Could we make it dinner? Tomorrow?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “With the upcoming holidays, I’m going to be working ten days straight. Better to get it out of the way.”
“Oh.” Peggy’s spirits fell.
“No!” Steve backtracked, eyes wide. “That came out all wrong. That was me trying not to uh, sound too eager? Also, I’m tired, and one of my firefighters is up a tree, and you are a very attractive woman and you just asked me out and my brain might be short-circuiting right now?”
Peggy had to laugh at that. “Okay, okay, stop digging.”
“You have to forgive Cap,” Wilson said from behind them. “We don’t let him out much.”
“This may in fact be the first non-work conversation he’s had with a woman,” Barnes chimed in. “Sorry it was so bad. He’s terrible at flirting.”
Steve took the good-natured teasing in stride. “Watch it, you two,” he warned them, but there was only wry warmth in his tone as he shook his head.
“I agree, it was very lacklustre flirting,” Peggy said. “You’ll need to step up your game for dinner tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Steve replied, a broad smile on his face.
“Got her!” Sif called from above. “Coming down. Good job securing a date, Cap.”
Peggy had to agree with that, too.
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ephrampettaline · 5 years ago
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[ chatzy with @alessafalling, @ephrampettaline, and @thisbrutalbelle ]
A rusted-out waterpark holds hidden monsters. Some ghosts are indignant. The golf bag is just for show. Not all fun and rides.
Ephram slapped a hand over his mouth and nose, trying not to retch. Wherever he'd just been blipped into, the reek of rot and chlorine hit him like an avalanche of garbage, and he doubled over for a few moments to get his stomach under control. "Right, magic," Ephram mumbled into his fingers after a bit, remembering that his magic seemed to work a little more functionally in these whackadoo worlds; he touched his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, which started to glow neon green like he'd streaked zinc down its length. It helped with the stench, though, so Ephram didn't much care. 
"Anybody else here?" he called in a piercing half-shout, peering through the gloom and mist.
Belle also was being hit hard by the various rotting and grotesque scents of these places. The one with Isa had been awful, burnt sugar made her need to stop breathing until they’d left. This was just as bad, chlorine running through her nostrils and hitting her head hard, an immediate headache making her brows furrow in agony. 
“Ephram,” Bella called back when she heard his voice. She stopped her breath but the chlorine was in the air, still feeling like it was burning the sensitive flesh in her nose. “Can you hear me?” she asked, capable of hearing his heartbeat and moving in the direction of it. He was harder to find than usual, his scent usually assisting, but with her vision compromised by the mist and his scent gone all she had was his voice and his heart. “Are you okay?”
Ephram perked up when he heard Bellamy's familiar voice, getting a bead on where it was coming from and heading in that direction. "I hear you! I'm headin' over." A promise which was hampered for a few moments when Ephram stepped into a shallow pool of what felt like mucous, nearly slipping and falling but managing to maintain his balance by leaning hard on his now-ubiquitous golf bag. 
"Jesus Christ," he said when he finally made it to Bellamy, the green glow of his nose visible through the murk before he reached her, "I dunno what this place is, but it's real /wet/. And -- here, lemme see if I can fix your breathing--" he reached out and did the same light touch to Bellamy's nose, which started to glow green as well. "Any better? I dunno if my magic works as good for other folks."
“That looks cute,” Bellamy said of the glowing on his nose. She’d heard him slipping, but wasn’t sure what it was, the air was certainly damp but lots of places could feel that way. She had been safe, not touching anything wet but that didn’t mean it wasn’t around. Once visible she felt his hand on her nose and she inhaled hard. There was no particular scent, but that was better than the scent there was. “Much,” she answered. “Any chance you can clear this mist or are we going to have to just stay close to one another for this?” Bella asked. In a place like this, we’ll seeing was going to be important for survival. “Have you been damaged here and had it linger when you got back?”
Ephram considered. "I gotten some bumps and bruises, yeah, but nothin' what lingered more than it should have."
He waved a hand in the thick malodorous fog as if that would do any good. "Y'know," Ephram said thoughtfully, "I reckon while I was makin' my way over here I caught sight of some industrial sized fans built into the wall. Maybe we could git those going and it might clear out the air some?"
“God, sheriff observant eyes,” she nudged him when he mentioned the fans but she didn’t like that bumps and bruises could linger. Really she knew she’d be fine and Ephram’s Magic was stronger now. “Point me in the direction and maybe we can set them up like you said,” she agreed, allowing her eyes to fill with darkness so her vision was better, fangs coming out in the process. She also took his hand, fingers interlaced with his the way a child might hold an adults hand. “We shouldn’t lose one another, we don’t need to go over any speakers asking for the other to come to customer service,” she attempted to joke.
Essie was a little bit more lost in the mist. Hunkered down in a corner beside some industrial sized fans thinking she was alone until she heard footsteps coming her way. Not willing to draw attention to herself she quietly flapped her wings, clearing a very small space of mist in front of her to hopefully spot whatever was coming before it spotted her.
Ephram scoffed, "As if you need a loudspeaker, I know you can holler like you got a megaphone in your throat if you need to." He jogged his golf bag against his back as they walked, saying, "Vampire strength or not, I got weapons here iffen we run into any nasty beasties. So you can beat the shit out of em with one'a these here golf clubs or my baseball bat." Ephram grinned, adding, "--Freddie glamoured himself a cricket bat when we was beatin' off a shit ton of rats. Reckon it's best to go with what's familiar." The fans Ephram had glimpsed started to loom into view now: they were enormous, set into the walls behind metal gratings to allow for airflow, everything looking rusted over from the heavy moisture in the air. "Hrrmph. I hope them things're still in working order."
“You’re just caring around weapons now?” she asked, a dumb question since he probably always carried around at least one weapon being that he was the sheriff. “Well if we’re going with what’s familiar I’ll just keep on with myself,” she reasoned gently. If they worked for them that was useful but Bella was going to be more apt with her own body than anything added to it unless it was a gun. They’d have to get just as close to her for something like a gold club. “If they’re not maybe I can give them a hard enough spin that they’ll move some of the air,” she announced but some was already moving out of the way, Bella releasing his hand as she immediately looked for a plug, not even considering looking up to see why until she’d put the cable in.
Essie heard voices from her spot and a small patch of the mist cleared with her wings work to reveal two sets of familiar shoes. Hoping to her feet she makes noise to warn them she's going to appear. "Sheriff? Bella?" she says not too loudly into the gloom. With a loud creaking the fan to her side slowly ground against it's own rusty gears.
Ephram said, "Whatever fucked-up magic these lil hell-pockets give off, I can feel it. So I been movin' round town gettin' myself shunted into em so's I can help whoever else gets caught." He shrugged. "What the hell else am I gonna do, right? I'm the Sheriff, I need to be dealin' with this shit /somehow/. Hence the portable arsenal." Ephram watched as Bellamy found a cable and plugged it into the wall, which seemed to bring at least one of the fans slowly lurching to life. 
"Essie?" he said, hearing another familiar voice and waving his arm to dispel some of the fog. "You havin' trouble breathing in this stink? I can do your nose with my magic like ours." He gestured at their glowing green noses. Frankly, Ephram was both relieved and pleased to have run into his Civvie Admin yet again; she'd proven intensely helpful in all of the places they'd been stuck in together, and having her in his team was a real worry-saver.
"I had one in my house," she said, the one she and Essie had ended up in was in her closet. "I wouldn't be shocked if other's homes have had them inside to but no doubt walking around and finding them is making it less dangerous for people. You know if anyone has...died?" Bellamy asked him. Something like that seemed viable, but also terrifying, Bella didn't like the idea it was possible. Bella looked up when she heard her name as well, the fan coming on once it was plugged in, heavy wind pushing on Ephram, fortunately Essie above it. "Shit," she muttered that even more of them had ended up here. It worried her that this was a big one and as the fan began to blow away the mist she could see that was true.
"Nobody's died," Ephram said hastily, slitting his eyes down as the fan started to spin. It blew away the thick fetid fog, yes, but as they stood there it started to spin faster, and faster, getting louder until there was a screech of metal shearing against metal. "I think we better move away from this thing," Ephram bawled at the other two, trepidation rising in his chest.
Essie folded her wings behind her and even managed a smile for the other two despite the setting. Rifle hooked over her shoulder she looks to Ephram "Please, I feel my nose is burning off in this place." breathing for so long in the mist had done no good for her at all. As the fan sped up Essie was inclined to agree. "I could hear some other things in here earlier before you two wandered over we better get away from all the noise quick."
"There," Bellamy said, pointing to the closest building which seemed to be a operators room for one of the rides that had only partially become revealed. It evidently had a staircase in it that lead up to the top of the ride. "Maybe if we go to higher ground we can determine where to go and where things are," she suggested.
Ephram nodded, hefting his golf bag and giving Essie a bit of a grin. "I see you got your rifle with you," he said approvingly. "Good stuff, Ess." He reached out and stroked his fingers against her nose briefly, turning it green with the magical breathing filter, and then the three of them started to move in the direction of the upper level operating room. "Did you see any of them beasties that you heard?" Ephram asked Essie as they walked. "Watch out now, I stepped in some sorter liquid and it's startin' to look like this is a pool or water slides or somethang. Don't wanna lose neither of you in a pool full of grossness."
"No choice, falling into so many of these places." she answers Ephram her nose wiggling when it's touched her face scrunching up at the feeling before nodding and following Bella. "Didn't see any of them through the mist, but they sounded...heavy?" she describes looking at Bella. "I'd fly and let you know but I don't wanna be spotted?"
"If you get high enough and stay quiet they might not notice you, perhaps we should create a bigger distraction than the fans?" Bella asked as she moved in the direction of the operating room, keeping her eyes mostly on the ground before her to make sure she was able to move safely there.
"We're close enough," Ephram said, pointing upwards at the staircase they'd need to climb. "Once we're up there all together we can decide if it'd be a good idea for you to take a fly around, Essie. I ain't too hot on us splittin' up jes yet." They broke into single file to ootch along a thin strip of heavily mildewed and discloloured concrete between two pools overgrown with a slimy weed that seemed to be spitting up jets of oily sputum, slowing them down on their way to the stairway tower. As they walked, two ghostly figures appeared, walking alternately between the three living Soapberryites with their blue glows faintly illuminating the fog. "Did you come to get us out?" one whispered, her voice low and shaky.
Essie considered this looking up above them for a moment. "I suppose i could /be/ a distraction from that height. No point leading something to you two on the ground right?" the idea of being a distraction wasn't unfamiliar, growing all too familiar to her even if it still churned her stomach. She was glad when Ephram decided against it. They could come to that later. Essie however flinched back at the appearance of the ghosts.
Bella didn't recognise any of them, and tried to stay silent that she mostly didn't care about getting them out. Bella cared about her, Ephram and Essie getting out, because they were her people. Bella was quite indifferent to anyone she didn't care about, a flaw maybe, but not the worst one she had. Unfortunately their direct question meant she couldn't quite avoid them. "Not our original intention," she said as they reached the staircase, Bellamy grabbing the side railing and bounding up the stairs, she moved up so quickly and her heels coming down so hard that the weakened wood fell through, Bella tripping and ending up stuck. "Shit," she let out. Dumb ghost distractions.
Essie made a touch more effort for the ghosts sake. "We'll figure out the way out and hopefully that'll help." and then she looked back to Ephram for more information. Bella falling through a stair caught more of her attention however and she moves past the ghosts quickly. Wings unfolding once again she doesn't step on the weak wood and holds out her hand to Bella.
Bella takes Essie's hand, pulling herself up with the assistance and stepping up onto the next step. "Thanks, need lighter steps, this place seems pretty affected by the chemicals and the water in the air."
Ephram frowned slightly at Bellamy's answer, saying to back Essie up, "--we din't know you was here, but it seems like what we do in this place -- these places -- helps youn's get free. So if you can help in any way, it'd be much appreciated." It wasn't that he thought Bellamy needed to care, exactly, but Ephram didn't think she necessarily needed to be so blunt with the ghosts. His own ghost, after all, had been somebody who he loved very much, and the thought of Edith being brushed off by some other erstwhile adventurer was a wretched one. 
The mishap with the broken step caught his attention, but luckily Essie'd been more on the ball and was already there helping Bellamy up. He bypassed the broken stair easily with his long legs, starting to say, "Maybe we'll find some lights to turn on or someth--" when the fan they'd left behind screamed entirely off its axis, slicing through the metal grating it was caged behind and careening out across the stagnant pools with a wailing shriek.
Essie hovered slightly so any steps she took were as light as they could possibly be as they made their way up the stairs. The fan crashing into the wall opposite itself with the loudest crash she'd ever heard. She almost ducked at how loud it was. But it'd disturbed the mist and she could see black remains on the fan blades. JUst proof that there was something other in there with them. "All the way up as quick as possible." she suggests speeding up herself.
The stairs were enough of a distraction that Bellamy didn't notice Ephram's frown, perhaps she'd have understood better if she felt better about her own ghost, or many she'd met. The only ones who seemed nice to hers were Ephram's and Cassie's, everyone else seemed like they'd had some pretty shitty ghost luck. Like Ephram she stopped when the wailing shriek of the breaking fan whirled off into one of the pools. It was hard to move up fast without damaging the steps but Bellamy decided it easiest to use her vampiric speed and made her way up in the blind of an eye, waiting for them in the operations office, seeing if there was anything actually operational about it.
Ephram loped up after Bellamy and Essie, all of them piling into the none-too-spacious operations room. "Maybe these control panels might help us out," Ephram said, moving aside the likewise rusted protective covers from the controls. But then he froze, holding the panels in his hands, as he looked down at what should have been a layout of buttons and switches but now looked more like lumps of flesh and kernels of skin, some shiny and some scabby, some pulsing with fluid and others inert with sparse hairs growing out of them. "I ... dunno if I wanna touch these," Ephram said a bit haplessly, at a loss.
Essie looked around Ephram at the controls and took the rifle off her shoulder. Jabbing at one of the lumps of skin hard enough to hopefully press any button that was underneath. A very muffled click could be heard, but nothing happened. "What's our next move if this is bust?" looking back at Bella.
Essie the next prod she did had the button ooze and she backed away, making a face at the goo.
Bella looked at what Ephram was observing, the lumps of flesh and skin covering it. Unlike the two of them Bella was not quite as squeamish. "Poking it won't help much, we need to know what we're doing," she stated and began to lift the flesh and hairs from the machine. It was a grotesque sort of sight, blood all over the thing, and goo leaking downward as Bella's nails dug into the skin and peeled it off until what was beneath was revealed. Still gooey and bloody but able to be read at the very least. "Lights," she said as she saw the label. Sure, it would only be for the ride and the area surrounding it but it was something.
"Urghhh," Ephram gave a cough as an alternative to retching, looking away and setting down the covers he'd removed as Bellamy stripped the control panels of their organic material. "That's disgusting," one of the ghosts offered, although the two of them were hanging back, floating in the doorway and generally staying out of the way of the living. "Do the lights work?" Ephram asked, following it up quickly with, "turn em on, turn em on. I think there's a maintenance catwalk from here that would take us around to the tops of the slides."
Essie made a face at the sight but didn't look away, trying to read the grubby labels as Bella stripped away the goo, focusing on what was underneath than thinking too hard on what was being ripped away. "There's a switch for the flumes. You think we could get water going and maybe wash out some of the foul sludge down there? Maybe anything else hanging out in the pools?"
Bella wiped her hands off on her jeans, they still felt gross and sticky but she'd felt worse. "Flumes?" Bella asked, unsure what a flume was. "Feel free to try, I'm trying the lights," she stated, immediately pressing them on. A few came on, some were evidently blown out but the area they were in immediately became far more illuminated. "Do you see the maintenance catwalk?" she asked.
Ephram moved towards the window of the room, peering out into the newly illuminated space. "Yeah," he said, "They lead out around the perimeter of this place, looks like." He looked back at Essie, saying, "If the water don't turn on -- which I think is damn well worth a try -- I can head out and use the bypass valves at the head of each of them there flume slides."
Essie nodded at Bella, she had priorities, but she hadn't heard whatever was walking with heavy steps down there. The only thing she was glad was that they'd likely be too heavy to scale the fragile stairs. She flicked one of the switches and then hit the open button for one of the flumes. No dice. She tried the next, nothing either. The third seemed to have some sort of reaction but she squinted out at it in the new light and spotted it was blocked. So much for that.
"What will the flumes do?" Bellamy asked, kind of unsure of what they were doing. Most of the time she'd been running to find a way to escape, taking out what got in their way. "Do we think that'll be a way out or a distraction? I thought we were trying to see if we were alone here so we could find the way out of this place?" Bellamy asked, just trying to make sure that she wasn't hindering any goal that Ephram and Essie had she might have missed.
Ephram exchanged a look with Essie. "I dunno how yours have worked," he said, realizing that Bellamy's experiences might have been completely different, "but so far for Essie and me it seems like we git spit out of these lil creepshow worlds once we've ... I dunno, completed some task. Killed enough beasties or made some sorter shift in the world."
Essie nods "That game we were in. It had an end, most of these places have had some sort of end game. Most of them an end that makes no sense, but some sort of goal? Figured maybe we could...drown the things down below? Or try to anyway, without getting into direct contact."
"What things are there?" Bellamy asked, leaning over the edge, realising perhaps they had seen something she hadn't. Essie had mentioned hearing sounds but no one had said they'd seen anything specific so Bella had assumed the lights were coming on to see where they were and avoid them. "Okay so we're going to try drowning them, okay, and you think you can get over and turn on the flumes? Are you going to be strong enough?"
"Something big. Can't be completely sue just what they are now the fan is broke, but big enough to cause some concern." she admits to Bella. "It's just a hope that they'll drown, not sure if it'll actually work."
Ephram took a look around below as well, noting the dark stains on the blades of the giant fan that Essie had noticed before. "Must be /somethang/ down there, since that fan looks like it sliced and diced some of em," he said, at which point one of the ghosts piped up, "Of /course/ there's monsters, we could have told you that! They're huge dinosaur fish things with teeth as big as chef knives!" Ephram blinked, revising his supposition into a fact. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Maybe you'n me, Essie, should go check them override valves for the flumes and see if we cain't get em flowing. Some magic- and dust-charged water might help flush these fish critters out even better, huh?"
Essie gives the ghosts an apologetic smile. Something she has on her face often at work. "Not all have been as good as you both. We'll know better next time." she says, an empty comment as they were unlikely to encounter these people again but good to say anyway. Moving off behind Ephram she rubs her hands together as they walk along the small walkway. Concentrating far more on dust as they manage to get two of the three gushing with water, noises down below indicating that yes, the creatures were not doing well with this development. Walking back towards the third Essie loses her footing. A loud yelp escapes her and her hands unconsciously reach out for something to grab, that thing being Ephrams ankle during her decent.
Ephram had been pretty pleased with their success so far -- which meant, of course, that it was precisely the right time for something to go wrong. Giving a short, startled yowl, he fell heavily on top of Essie, ruining any chance of her being able to catch herself from falling with her fairy wings (he was too much weight for her to carry) and the two of them bumped into the lip of a slide, tumbling down through the rushing water and finding themselves flung through its curves and loops ... to come out sprawled and soaked on the lawn of a Soapberry citizen in the suburbs, the sprinklers continuing to douse them with water.
Ephram sat up, spluttering. "Well," he muttered, "at least this time it ain't pickle juice."
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ohfortheloveofnaruto · 6 years ago
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I'm a dingdong and can't find the proper prompt place (unless this is it?!) but I am SUPER interested in the drug use and violence starter. 👌 And angst. I thrive off that. ❤❤ Thanks!
cutie you got the right place and I’ am a sucker for this trope so this will be a  longer one, enjoy babe! (admin @wiccankonan)
He wasn’t sure what it was that made these nights occur, where he would find himself in the dark, rusted streets, the neon lights of the city casting off the puddles of water, making the reflection the one beautiful thing in a place birthed from cement and tears. 
Yet here he was, again. What trigger had found him in this known scene? Out of habit he felt his pocket to find the bottle that contained his perfect poison, popping open the cap with slim, pale fingers he counted them again. 
Five? he thought in dismay. Did the piece of shit he let fuck him last night raid his stash? He was sure he had ten xans left and that was suppose to get him through the next three days…. Not ideal, but enough to function. 
He shrugged, whatever, one dick suck and a pity fuck and he’d get anything he wanted. He wasn’t particularly egocentric of his looks, he just took full advantage of the privilege it was to be as beautiful and striking as he. Raven black hair that in perfect lighting carried hues of bluebird blue, that with his smoldering eyes, he basically could get anything he wanted without much of a fuss. 
La Vie En Rosewas a tiny little club and wasn’t much to write home about. It was dingy but the music was always loud, and there was always what he was looking for in times like this - because dissociation was better than numbness in his mind. 
It was just the beginning of Fall so the weather was becoming chilly and a gust of wind reached past him as he opened the front door and took his usual cornered seat and waited. 
The bartender here knew him well enough, she was a beautiful redhead, who sometimes snuck off to bathroom to do coke and invited him once or twice. He could imagine himself with a person like that, someone broken. You could see it on her very skin. He of course never asked why, but one day, crying, she told him what they had done to her and forced him to promise to never speak of it again and like a prayer it sealed his lips. He knew what it meant to carry wounds that he did not want bared to the world, the very world which made them. 
“It’s a busy night.” The soothing familiar voice whispered from behind him.
 “It’s sprite and gin…well mostly gin” she winked as she scurried past to attend to the other rowdy men and women on the hunt for the same desperate and raging fix.
Sasuke smiled graciously and took his sip… She wasn’t fucking kidding, and honestly he expected nothing less from the infamous Karin Uzumaki. 
Not feeling very inspired, Sasuke took out his sketchbook anyway. Hoping that maybe a draft of smoke, a sudden passing smell, a particular glance would stir some feeling in him to make something again. It had been so long now. Long enough that it physically ached.
Lighting a cigg, he eyed the atmosphere about him - the rustling room filled with girls in short skirts, laughing with one another, looking like they were enjoying themselves, Sasuke didn’t feel a thing though. 
Maybe he took too much xan….or maybe not quite enough… before he could think another thought - a crashing noise caught his attention, his lynx like eyes narrowing in on the sound. 
Immediately a commotion ensued, some running to and away from the the drama unfolding. 
“Sasuke!” his body registered the voice before his mind could and he was already at his feet, elbowing his way to the barkeep.
What he first took in was Karin - wide eyed, with her cell in hand, and a bloodied lip - next to her was the tanned, defined figure of a blonde man, who currently was holding another mans face to the counter.
“Say it again.” the blonde grunted, grabbing his prey by the hair and smashing his face into the mahogany table…once….twice…
“Say it again and I will let you go.” The voice was laced with an odd earnesty and the other man coughed out, blood pouring from his head and his mouth
“I’m sorry.” he gurgled. 
“Mm…. I don’t think that’s what you said before…Karin is that what he said? Maybe I’m just crazy.” the blonde laughed, something in his guffaw was more disturbing than the psychical power this man showed.
“Try again?” he spoke almost with politeness, giving him another smash against the table.
“You’re gonna fucking kill him, Naruto please!” Karin screamed, the rawness in her voice was palpable. 
“I called you a fucking faggot. I’m sorry. I called you a faggot that’s what I said please fuck..please…. please I’m sorry.”
As promised, the man was released and he staggered, supported only by the one friend he had flanking him. They took off to the back, not bothering to look behind them. Possibly knowing best not to.
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” the blonde grinned and eyed the table before he found what he was apparently looking for.
Ah whiskey, he downed it in one gulp and Sasuke’s cock twitched involuntarily, honestly - he had a basic idea of what had happened and it was enough to know he wanted to figure out more about this Naruto character and more importantly, why the fuck Karin had kept him hidden this long. 
“You’re lucky their not calling the fucking cops, Naruto. What the fuck?” The red head scorned as she wrapped ice in paper clothes and handed it to the blonde to apply to his blood stained knuckles.
“I had it under control.” 
Sasuke’s eyes widened for a fraction of a moment at the rapid change of demeanor in this kid, he almost sounded like a child being scorned by his mother. 
“Whose this one?” Naruto jutted his chin towards Sasuke, who frowned at him, looking indignant. 
“A friend of Karin’s and you?” Maybe he shouldn’t have sounded so harsh to a guy who nearly smashed someones brains in, but Sasuke had a temper of his own. 
“Feisty, just like I like them.”
“Shut up Naurto, this is Sasuke - Sasuke this is my cousin, Naurto.”
The blonde extended his hand, and Sasuke met him half way and the moment they touched a delicious sensation crawled through their veins.
I’m fucking him tonight Naruto thought as he eyed him, taking in his thin, yet undeniably compact and sturdy figure, skin like porcelain and eyes that spoke of defiance. 
“Can I get you a drink, looks like you’re running close to dry.” 
Sasuke peeked down, he must have spilled on his way to see the commotion. While he wanted to take him on his offer, the patch about the others hand had him weary… Which was peculiar since he usually couldn’t really give a shit. 
“Do you need like….a ride to the hospital? Your hand looks pretty wrecked.”
“Fucking hate hospitals and had worse.” Motioning with his head, he directed Sasuke to sit by him. 
“Let me get you that drink, Karin’s told me some about you, though you’re a lot better looking than she lead on and she went off pretty hard on that part.”
A distant “Fuck you.” was heard from the back of house and Naruto giggled. Yes, the same man who just nearly killed someone - was fucking giggling like some sort of school boy. Intrigued, Sasuke could not help himself and found no compulsion to either.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” and it wasn’t a lie, sun-kissed skin stretched perfectly over his taut muscular frame, his hair like a halo around his sparkling and lively ocean eyes.
“Are you flirting with me?” Seeing Sasuke’s pout, Naurto chortled softly, nodding his thanks to Karin as he slid Sasuke’s drink to him while Naruto downed his own with gusto. 
“Karin’s never mentioned you before.” Sasuke blurted this out before truly taking in what repercussions this might take.
“Ah…well.” Naruto scratched the back of his head, eyeing him sheepishly. “I’ve kinda been like…on an extended vacation of sorts.” 
“He means jail.” 
“Karin fuck off, honestly.” 
For probably the first time in months Sasuke found himself laughing, a real honest, true laugh that radiated warmth through his core. If only he could have seen the way Naruto looked at him as he did.
“Anger issues?” It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to but it made Naruto pivot and eye him, curiously. 
Cocking his head slightly, he snapped his fingers as if he’d just deciphered some abstract work of art. “Let me guess…Drug issues because its the only way you can stand to be around half these people.”
“How very perceptive of you and to say half is being generous.”
Naruto smiled at that and the raven smiled back,
….
(to be continued)
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starry-kfics · 7 years ago
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take your little sister to work day [hyunjin]
admin mel’s contribution for #happyhyunjinday; this soulmate au is for our wonderful visual, dancer, and rapper, hwang hyunjin!! all skiz writings can be found on my masterlist, if you’d like to check the others out!
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word count: 1998 (just two words under the 2k word limit i set for myself lmao)
warnings: none
author: mel
extra info: soulmate au where you have a distinct mark that turns a matching color to your soulmate’s when you touch for the first time
“Y/N,” a soft voice from above you, accompanied by a hand shaking your shoulder softly, gently lulled you out of your sleep.
“Hm? Unnie, why are you waking me up so early?” You mumbled, squinting your eyes against the harsh light of the bedside lamp.
“You’re coming with me to work today.” It was your much older sister, Hanseul, whose apartment you were staying in while your parents were on vacation.
“Why?”
“I love you, but I don’t trust you to be alone in my apartment for nine hours.”
“First Mom and Dad made me stay with you, now you won’t let me stay home alone; I’m nineteen, can you lighten up already?” A groan came from your mouth, but you sat up nonetheless and rubbed your eyes.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Hanseul gave you a bright smile, one that you didn’t reciprocate.
“How fun can going to your boring managerial job be?”
“I’m manager for a very fun group of boys, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, Stray Kids or whatever.”
“What’s with the tone?”
You attempted to innocently blink your eyes, “What tone? There’s no tone.”
“Just get dressed, okay? We’ll get breakfast from the employee cafe.” She declared, patting your legs before standing up and taking leave of the guest room.
You got ready in slow motion, wearing your comfiest sweatshirt in case there were opportunities for napping. There should be plenty of couches, or at least a chair or two. Following your sister to her car, you were still half asleep as she drove you from her apartment into the busiest streets of downtown. They were so busy, in fact, you were pretty sure that walking would have been quicker than driving. But nonetheless you finally made it to the parking garage, pulling into a space with a ‘RESERVED FOR MANAGER HANSEUL’ sign at the front.
“Reserved parking space? Fancy.” You commented, stretching once you had stepped out of the car.
She checked her watch as the two of you approached the front desk. “Ah, I don’t have enough time to eat with you.”
You frowned as she quickly checked herself in, then got a visitor’s pass for you, “Here, this should let you in most places I’m allowed in. I’ll give you my credit card and you can get whatever you want from the cafe, okay? I’ll have a plain bagel with cream cheese, and black coffee. Meet me in room 335 on the third floor when you’re done.”
Hanseul thrust the said credit card and visitor’s ID in your hands, then pointed to the small cafe in the corner of the first floor. “Okay.”
And with that, she took off towards the elevators. Somewhat dazed, you made your way into the line for food, eyeing the choices. You ordered Hanseul’s breakfast, then your own. Still not being fully awake, and doubtful of your skill to carry all this food upstairs, you decided to eat your own meal in the cafe. Sitting at a table as far away from other people as you could, you knew that some of the adults that worked there were confused, but nobody did more than glance at you briefly. Taking a sip of your own drink, you put your headphones in to drown out the annoying elevator music they had playing. After finishing most of your food, and having exhausted your Twitter feed, you decided to start towards the elevator.
When the elevator reached the third floor, you stepped off, immediately starting to read the numbers next to the doors. You were only at 304, meaning that you still had so many corridors to go down. Finally, you were at 335, and already were hungry again. Maybe you should have taken your leftovers with you.
Unsure if something important was happening in there or not, you decided to knock, gently rapping your knuckles against the wood.
“Come in, noona!” A voice called out, and despite knowing they probably thought you were someone else, you opened the door anyway.
Sitting at a conference table were several boys, all seeming to be somewhat near your age, and all very confused. “Ah, uhm, I’m looking for Y/L/N Hanseul.”
“Manager noona should be back soon.” The one who seemed to be the leader informed you, and it was then that the sound of the door opening reached your ears.
You turned to see your sister entering the room, an older man in tow. He must be her colleague, the other manager she worked with to manage Stray Kids.
“Y/N, thank you so much!” She took the food you offered out to her, then quickly introduced you to everybody. “This is my little sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is Kim Dongyoung, my coworker, and that’s Stray Kids. Now come on, this needs to be a quick meeting because you boys have a busy schedule today.”
You raised your eyebrows at just how in control of everything Hanseul was, and took a seat in an armchair in the corner, tucking your legs underneath you. As she gave the boys something between a pep talk, schedule explanation, and also scolding session, you put your headphones back in to listen to your music. You got the idea that the meeting was over when everybody started standing up, and you did the same, following them out of the room.
Your sister led everybody to the elevator, all twelve of you managing to cram into it. You were much warmer and much closer to the boys than you would have liked. They all tried to keep a polite distance from you, and the thought crossed your mind that they might be mildly afraid of you. After all, you hadn’t said a single word to them, only being on your phone. You were surprised your sister hadn’t chastised you yet for being plugged in so much.
Leaving the elevator, you were finally able to breathe again, but still felt sweat gathering along the back of your neck. Not like the sweater helped at all. As Hanseul led the way into another room, which you figured to be a practice room, you gathered your hair in your hand. Sitting on a tall stool in the corner, you then pulled your hair up into a ponytail, just to get it off your neck.
Unfortunately, since you were right next to the speaker, the music blasting from that drowned out your music still playing in your headphones. Rolling your eyes, you kept your headphones in but watched as the nine boys practiced, the one you assumed to be the leader stopping to give them occasional pointers and your sister observing with Dongyoung from the other side of the room. They were all very good dancers, and you were surprised to find out that most were rappers as well as singers.
After making uncomfortable eye contact with one particular member several times in the mirror, you decided to avert your gaze down to your phone. Fingers snapping in front of your face halted your scrolling only three minutes later, and you clicked your phone off to look at the interrupter. It was of course Hanseul, looking absolutely freaked out.
“Yes, unnie?” You questioned, and she latched her hand around your wrist, yanking you off the stool and out of the room.
You hadn’t noticed, but Stray Kids had taken a short break, and most were whispering, taking badly-concealed glances at you. What was happening?
Hanseul just about slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and you looked at her, concerned. “Unnie, what’s wrong?”
“Your mark, Y/N. It’s been activated.”
You were caught off-guard, knowing that she was referencing your soulmate mark. Normally, it would look like a puffy scar, but apparently once you touched your soulmate it would turn some kind of color that matched theirs. Yours was on the left side of the back of your neck, out of sight for you.
“What?” Your eyes widened to a ridiculous size, and she quickly took out her phone, snapping a quick picture of your neck to show you. “Holy shit.”
It was a nearly neon green, looking as if you’d been nailed in a game of paintball. You instinctively rubbed at it, fully knowing that it wouldn’t just come off like paint.
“It wasn’t like that this morning, which boy did you touch today?” She interrogated you, and your surprise faded as you soon regained your wits.
“Literally all of them, we were all stuffed in an elevator together, remember?”
Hanseul sighed, rubbing her temples, prompting you to mutter out an apology, “I’m sorry, unnie.”
“Woah, I’m not mad. Seriously, my little sister’s soulmate being one of those boys? I couldn’t be happier. They’re all great kids, seriously. I’m just frustrated that it happened now. JYP’s dating ban is three years, and I hate the idea of you having to be kept from him for so long.”
“We don’t even know who it is, don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?”
“Right, we should figure out which one it is.” She nodded, straightening up before taking your hand in hers and throwing the door open.
Stray Kids were still on their break, all of them nervously standing at attention when the two of you reentered. “Line up, boys! Let me see your marks!”
They all scrambled to do as she asked, and you felt your face turning red with embarrassment at how she was approaching this. It was way too straightforward and militant for you. As she went down the line, most weren’t activated, and the couple whose were had the wrong color. There were two boys left, but one wasn’t displaying his. You recognized him as the one you kept making eye contact with in the practice room mirror, and now he couldn’t look you in the eye.
“Hyunjin, come on.” Hanseul ordered. With a sigh, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, stretching it down.
There, just below his collarbone was an electric green mark. Definitely the same blinding color as yours. Everybody started yelling, the other members of Stray Kids all crowding their friend as Hanseul let out a big sigh of relief. You were frozen, looking at boy almost in disbelief as he tried to ward off his members.
“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s all calm down for a moment.” Hanseul finally spoke up as she noticed Hyunjin being pushed towards you by a couple other boys.
The clamor quieted down, and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. You definitely weren’t planning on finding your soulmate today, and especially not in front of your sister and nine other absolute strangers. Your sister checked her watch momentarily.
“I would love to give the rest of the day for you two to,” She gestured wildly, trying to get her thoughts together, “Talk, or whatever. But you boys have a photoshoot and then a mukbang vlive tonight. I can give you the last ten minutes of their practice time.”
Not even getting permission from you or Hyunjin, she, Dongyoung, and the other eight members immediately fled the room. It was perhaps another thirty seconds before either of you said anything.
“So, uhm, what music were you listening to earlier?” He asked, and you realized that he was trying to make conversation with you. Which was the logical thing to do.
“Ah, a bit of everything. Weki Meki and Loona for the most part.”
He nodded, and you took a deep breath before offering your hand out towards him. “I’m Y/N, even though Hanseul unnie already announced that earlier.”
The boy shook it, and you took the moment to appreciate his aesthetics, a handsome jawline, and pretty lips all paired with a beautiful face. “I’m Hyunjin, even though manager noona already announced that earlier.”
With a small laugh, you let go of his hand and pulled out your phone. “Well, might as well get your phone number, since you boys are so busy.”
“Oh, right.” He recited it to you, and you quickly saved him as a contact.
“Sorry about my sister, by the way. She’s a bit much sometimes.”
“I’m used to it by now. And I guess I’ll have to be used to it for the rest of my life, right?”
“Right. How about you, any crazy family members I’ll have to get used to for the rest of my life?”
“Most of them.”
“Can’t wait.”
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exhoe-imagines · 7 years ago
Note
“Suck harder, you slut.” with Sehun ;) Hope you enjoy this one jewels
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sehun x reader + “suck harder you slut”
The neon lights flicker throughout the club, synchronized with the music. It’s a usual Saturday night, loud and crowded with people of all kinds. The only thing these people have in common is that they are all on the prowl for someone to go home with. As for you, you came at the request of a friend. But within an hour, she was off with some guy.
You sit at the bar, already on your third drink. It is at this point you start thinking maybe it is best to call an Uber and go home. But then someone takes a seat next to you. Actually, it isn’t just anyone. His name is Sehun, and he’s your #1 booty call. Or maybe he considers you his booty call. Whatever you consider each other, he is the guy you see every few weeks when you want a one-night escapade. But as of late, you have been avoiding him. The whole one-night stand ritual has become slightly degrading.
“Hello stranger,” he says with a slightly vengeful smirk.
You immediately sigh and get up, attempting to escape.
“No, don’t go. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” he asks, grabbing your arm and pulling you back.
“Look, I’m just done with this Sehun.” You roll your eyes, trying to be as frank as possible.
“Just give me a last dance, please,” he pleads, his voice turning soft like the look in his eyes.
You sigh, finally giving in. “Alright, just one dance.”
He smiles and pulls you toward the dance floor, immediately grabbing you by the waist and placing you in front of him. One of your favorite songs comes on, making your hips move in sync with its heavy bass. His eyes wander down over your body, glazing over with lust.
“You know, I’ve missed your body,” he winks at you, making you roll your eyes. “But I’ve missed you more,” he says, suddenly becoming romantic.
“Oh come on, you’re just drunk,” you scoff, avoiding eye contact with him.
“I haven’t had one drink yet tonight,” he says, not a hint of humor on his face.
Before the shock can register on your face, he kisses you, pulling your body as close to his as possible.
“Follow me,” he demands, still maintaining that serious expression.
He grabs your hand and pulls you off the dance floor. You realize he is taking you to the club’s private bathroom, but you find yourself too infatuated to resist. In fact, you realize you want this as much as he does. You don’t want to admit it, but you have missed him these past few weeks.
“I’m sorry, I can’t wait,” he whispers, pulling you into the bathroom and pushing you up against the door. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve really missed you,” he says, hungrily eyeing your lips.
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit, deciding to take a risk.
“You can’t do this to me again, ok?” he requests, leaving kisses down your neck.
“A-alright,” you moan as he reaches the sweet spot behind your ear.
“No, show me you mean it,” he responds, pulling away from your neck and looking you in the eyes.
You don’t hesitate and push him against the opposite wall, lowering to your knees. You smirk as you unzip his pants, not wasting any time. He is already fully erect as you lower his pants, immediately taking him into your mouth.
“Hungry for my cock, aren’t you?” he sneers, grabbing onto the back of your head to direct you.
You moan as you suck him, showing agreement. It always gives you such a high to please Sehun.
“Suck harder, slut,” he commands, pulling your hair closer to him.
You use harsher sucking motions, looking up at him to make sure he likes it. You can tell he does by his sharp intake of air, mouth wide open.
Soon enough, he’s grinding himself into your mouth, making soft moans. The sight of him panting your name has you wet as well.
“You’re going to take my whole load, alright?” he says, warning you that he is close.
You moan in response and speed up. You decide to grab his balls with your right hand, softly massaging them. As you predicted, that gets him fired up and he hits his climax.
“Ah you’re such a good girl,” he moans as he releases in your mouth, “you’re so pretty taking my load like that.”
You lick over him once more to make sure he is clean, then you help pull his pants back up and zip them up. He immediately pulls you in by your waist and gives you a deep kiss.
“C’mon princess, I’m taking you home for your turn,” he smiles, his expression turning soft once again.
You giggle, thinking this could actually become something real in the future, all because of one dance.
- admin jewels
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daehwifi · 7 years ago
Text
tonight, it’s you  ⇀ woosung
- admin min
Member: Sammy Genre: Angst Word Count: 1.3k Quote: “I’ll think of only you tonight.” Side Notes: I’ve recently started stanning The Rose and i hope people will stop sleeping on one of the most talented groups that I’ve come across :(
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The shining lights of the city were paled down as he gulped down yet another shot of the colorless liquid. His slender fingers wrapped tightly at the neck at the bottle, as if trying to erase the memories that he wasn’t included in.
“I’m sorry, please don’t leave… I was selfish.” Woosung had recalled whispering to you just days ago, his voice chilling, enchanting and desperate all at once. Again, another urgent, throbbing pain shot through the back of his head. The latter knew. He knew damn well what was happening in that moment, yet he promised that tonight you’d be the only thing on his mind even if it was this one last time, even if the thought of you was the drug that hurt him the most. Woosung had stumbled on his own feet, falling to his knees in the dimly lit alley. Why was everything getting harder? Why was he losing track of consciousness as he slipped into a dark void, that seemed to be filled with memories of you. Woosung -lknew that he wasn’t complaining though. It wasn’t as if he needed this, but somehow it had made his now stone like face lively again, rosy cheeks returning once again. “I’ll always be next to you, now and forever.” a voice has whispered in your ear back at the start of the fairytale like story. The memory had slammed into him full force, it was none other ethan himself who had whispered those sweet nothings, but he couldn’t comply to his own words and it kept the blonde boy choked up.
Woosung was falling, but this time you weren’t there to catch him before he fell into the dark. He was selfish and he knew that for a fact. It was always “I’d never let you go.” but there was no trace of those words now. It was all too late, yet he still wanted to call you his, to rely on you even if your voice had turned ice cold. To Woosung there was no one left to rely on, you were his sole pillar that had pulled him through his years no matter how deep rooted his insecurities were. You were there and you were sincere, but he let that change a tad bit too drastically.
Tonight, tonight and always it would be you, and only you in his heart. It was love he’d say, although there was never a moment that he would turn back if you had somehow fell off of your high held throne. He wanted to be next to you, to embrace you in his arms and it had only made him feel more sorry. Sorry, that’s what he was. Was Woosung sorry to you or was he sorry for himself? He didn't know. but he had begged inside for you to turn back when you had left. Again, he was sorry, but he still didn’t know who for.
Yet again under those neon blue and red signs of the alley accompanied by the dim silver light from the moon, his mind was filled with you. Everything had gone wrong and he simply did not know when and where. The non sugar coated truth was simple, he was wrong. Woosung knew that, and he missed you, he missed you a little too dearly.  He missed being held in your embrace, your fingers toying ever so lightly with the end of his almost grayish hair, making little remarks on how he looked as if he was aging far too quickly ahead of you. Those hands that he’d grown a little too accustomed too had made his self pity multiply at least ten times. As the temperature dropped further in the midst of the quiet streets Woosung couldn’t help the fact that he wished that you both could have gone back to how you were before. Before, how could he define the word? Perfection perhaps, but he must’ve been out of his mind because anywhere you were was home to him.
Tonight, it’s you, again it’s you. He’d wait, Woosung knew that he’d wait an eternity for you if that’s what it truly took. Only this time he wasn’t going to screw up, he’d care and his time would be devoted solely to you.
The stars in the dark night sky were gleaming brightly, unlike everything that had lacked its luster in his vision. Life itself had become a dull phenomenon for him. Everything was on a schedule, repeated far too many times for his liking, but once that schedule finally changed it wasn’t a turn for the better.
The day that you left Woosung knew you still had feelings, but no he wasn’t going to hold you back. You screamed for him to say something, to show some reaction. It was true that you wouldn't of left if he had showed emotion during your breakdown, but you couldn’t help the fact that he was expressionless. You were too optimistic of fixing it all and you were well aware of that the moment you heard your heart crack. As if on cue he had cleared his throat as you slid down to sit on the chill hardwood floor, no longer throwing your temper tantrum. Maybe it hurt a little too much but you couldn’t push the aching pain out of your chest. It was all too much. Kim Woosung was all too much for you in that moment.
Woosung knew deep down in a sole part of him that he had to let you go but he didn’t want to be the monster that would break your devoted heart first. He refused, he simply refused to say those three words to your pained expression first. Your voice was chilling and he couldn’t help but feel a shiver go down his spine as you begged him to make this work out before it was too late. Internally you had scoffed at yourself for thinking that it wasn’t already too late for your efforts. Nonetheless, you tried until you simply could not any longer. He was sorry this night, only this time he knew he was sorry to you. No, Woosung didn’t want you to leave. He’d do anything to keep you next to him.
Awkward expressions caused wrinkles on his pretty face, awkward physical movements caused the distance between you both to grow further day by day and awkward conversations made drifting away easier.
It was true that he wanted to stay numb to keep you off his mind. Maybe the phrase staying high would finally apply to him now as the world seemed to voice its disapproval towards his decisions. It wasn’t that Woosung wanted to dwell in the past forever but he couldn’t move on at this very moment. The good times had passed and yet he was still holding on as if it were yesterday. Times when he’d check for your text every morning when his alarm rang, times when you seemed so so beautiful even if you were simply focused on the movie that played on that large screen. Woosung remembered the fuzzy warm feeling he’d get in his stomach when you shot a smile his way while you interlaced you fingers into his. Those times were happier, more simple.
Maybe this is better for you, he was sure of it. Maybe one day you’d be able to smile happily again, but he could only hope that it would be towards him. After all hope was a thing with feathers right? It wouldn’t ask for anything in return. Even when you might be happy, he’d still miss you, as you knew he’d never stop, because tonight, it’s you and it’d always be you.
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exxxoblr · 7 years ago
Text
self control
park chanyeol x reader
wc - 1.5k // rated M for sexual themes
author - admin C, gif is not mine.
companion playlist here // requests
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Ear-shattering bass thrummed through your body like you were touching a live wire, strobe lights flashing and making everyone look like a celebrity in the dimness of it all. You saw your boyfriend pressed against a blonde about fifteen minutes ago, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him. The truth was, you were done with him a long time ago, but it was much better to be with someone than without anyone at all.
You always allowed him to drag you to the club, pulling you from the comforts of home and sweatpants, for the very reason of seeing the entertainment. Feeling your dress pull a little higher up on your thighs, you craned your neck forward, watching.
The “entertainment” was up with the DJ, speaking into his ear. Licking his lips as he pulled away, his eyes scanned the packed dance floor. His hair was jet black, stark in contrast from last week’s brilliant red. He looked so good in just a simple black tee shirt and jeans, it was a little bit unfair. Straightening up, you look away while inching your way closer to the DJ booth casually. The song changed to a slower, bass-heavy instrumental that you lost yourself in, closing your eyes and trying to get his calculating eyes out of your mind. Curiosity got the better of you after a few seconds, lifting your chin a bit to capture a glimpse of him once more.
A jolt struck through you as his eyes bored into yours, his frame leaning against the booth. The neon lights cast a red glow over his face, making him look dangerous. The swaying of your hips slowed as you stared right back. His lips lifted into a small smile, his head shaking. With that, he descended the stairs of the booth and was lost in the flashes of the strobe lights. A little disappointed, but not disheartened, you pushed your hair off your neck and headed towards the bar.
Every bartender was busy, not even giving you a second glance as you lifted a finger to order. Seated on a barstool across the counter was your boyfriend, the blonde girl he was with earlier on his lap, her lips glued to his. You stared blankly, wondering how he could sleep at night.
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you felt someone behind you press their chest to your back, one hand on your hip and the other raised in the air, immediately catching the attention of a bartender. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
“Chanyeol,” You murmured, tilting your head in his direction. You reluctantly pushed his hand off your hip, worried your boyfriend would see. He didn’t look at you, his eyes were steady on your boyfriend, his hands now under the girl’s shirt. Looking away with a small pang of embarassment, you focused on the warm feeling of Chanyeol’s chest behind you.
Within seconds, there was a drink in front of you that you drained instantly, goosebumps ghosting your skin.
“So, have you thought about what I asked Friday, (Y/N)?” Chanyeol questioned, feeling you leave his arms as you move to sit on a barstool in front of him. Your cheeks were burning as he eyed you. You began to focus on the way his hand gripped his drink, his gaze too intense for you to bear.
“I… can’t, Chanyeol. My boyfriend—” you started, pressing your thighs together.
“Has his tongue down someone else’s throat,” he finished for you, setting his empty glass down with a heavy thud. You fidgeted under his inspection, holding back a grimace. He sighed, moving close enough so he could speak directly into your ear.
“Give me a chance,” Chanyeol placed his hand on your thigh, smirking a little. Stealing another look at your boyfriend, you realized that he was gone.
“Did he…?” You trailed off, gripping Chanyeol’s wrist.
“Leave with that girl? Yes,” he answered, his thumb rubbing slow patterns on your bare thigh. Finally mustering up enough courage to look him in the eyes, you studied him. It was impossible not to stare at his lips, perfectly shaped and so close to you. Tightening his grip on your thigh, you surrendered after a long time coming.
“Show me what you’ve got,” you agreed to his request, hoping to sound confident. Chanyeol gave you a look like you just told him he won a million dollars, grabbing your hand tightly and pulling you up to stand beneath him, his height and grin intimidating.
“Come on,” He chuckled, pulling you from the bar. As he led you out of the hazy club, bodies catching on yours, the smell of alcohol and fruity vapors heady, a new excitement flared up inside you. His hand suffocated yours, large and strong, his thumb brushing over your wrist as he urgently opened the back door to the club. You exited into the parking lot, the air warm and musty but pleasant compared to the stifling dance floor. Chanyeol still had his grip on you, tightening as he led you to a Mercedes parked quite far from the door, no other cars surrounding it. He unlocked the car and released you, but as you reached for the door to get in, you turned to tease him about his expensive taste. As you opened your mouth, you felt his rough palms cup your face and the press of his lips against yours. You let out a startled gasp, not quite kissing him back until one of his hands slid down your body to push you flat against the door.
You knew that two wrongs didn’t make a right, that you were just as bad as your boyfriend for doing this with Chanyeol, but you couldn’t help yourself. The way Chanyeol bit your lip and groaned when you tugged on the strands of his hair felt dangerous and exciting, a spark that had been missing from your current relationship for a long time.
Chanyeol’s hand reached behind you to yank the backseat door open, removing himself from you for a brief second as he gestured for you to get in. He quickly stalked over to the driver’s side to turn on the car, the A/C blasting and music sounding from the speakers. As he climbed into the backseat and settled next to you, one of his long fingers beckoned you over. Climbing on his lap, he looked at you with hooded eyes.
“It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it, princess?” He murmured, pushing your dress up your legs. Heart thumping painfully in your chest, you nod. You and your boyfriend hadn’t been intimate in easily a month, so just looking at Chanyeol had your legs attempting to clamp around his thighs. Looking down at him, you pulled him in by his chin and kissed him with everything you had, loving the sounds he made as your tongues battled for dominance.
Not fighting very hard for said dominance, you let him pull away long enough to pull the stretchy material of your dress up and over your head, replacing every inch of fabric with a searing kiss. The windows of the car began to fog over as he pulled you further onto his lap, your hips rolling in time with the slow hip-hop beats flowing through the speakers. Soon, his shirt was carelessly thrown in the front seat along with your bra, the skin to skin contact scorching you has his arms wrapped around your back so tightly there was no space at all between your bodies.
~ Last week ~
“I can do you so much better than him, princess,” Chanyeol promised, a drink in his hand as he spoke to you. You chuckle a little, smirking when his gaze turned even more serious.
“What makes you think that?” You ask, leaning closer to him, breathing in his lovely cologne. He smirked a little bit, setting his drink down and pulling you in by your lower back.
“Because if he was doing you right, you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
You kissed a line down his throat, loving the hard contours of his body and the way his hands left a trail of fire on your skin.
“Chanyeol,” you sighed, tugging at his jeans. You felt him smirk against your chest he was marking, pausing to shed his jeans and boxers. When the seductive beat of the music and the heat of his hands began to became too much, he slid your panties to the side and looked up at you with hooded eyes.
His pace was slow as he rocked into you, his lips never leaving your throat. You felt as though you were going to be incinerated, the sharp movements of his hips leaving you breathless and hoarse. You grew limp in his arms, your teeth finding his shoulder as he groaned. Over and over again, he brought you to a new high that seemed almost impossible if you were to fathom it before that night. The playlist he had started over once more, your head falling back on the seat as you noticed the handprints that disrupted the flawless image of the fogged-up windows. And while it was so wrong, you had never seen anything so perfectly right.  
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imagine-knb · 1 year ago
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How would GoM+Kagami be like as Stardew Valley players? Who would they romance, if at all, who'd focus more on the caves instead of farming, who'd be bad at the fishing mini game, etc?
I was also deep in the trenches of Stardew and I'm soooooo excited for the update! Glad you're back here!
I felt so much joy writing these headcanons! Thank you for this request! ( ´•̥̥̥o•̥̥̥`)♡ Admin Neon
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Kuroko
his type of significant other is a gentle person, so I can see him pursuing Penny for his first save file
on his second playthrough, he tries to go for Leah, but he ends up marrying Penny again – what can he say; he’s loyal
he’s the type of player who gets to bed right before the clock hits 2:00AM
his favorite part of the game is the customizability of the farm – his is so intricate, he even downloaded a mod to have even more custom stuff
has a multiplayer save file with Kagami and a few other friends where he has decorated every house to fit what he thinks they would like – he’s usually purposefully wrong
Kagami
he only plays the shared save file with Kuroko because he usually doesn’t make time for videogames
and usually when he does have time, he chooses something with a little more firepower
so you best bet Kagami is the type of asshole to craft a bunch of bombs and then accidentally set them off around some very intricately placed decorations
more basketballs seemed to find his face for weeks after that
often ignores all the people and all the farming in favor of going into the mines
when he finally gets to Skull Cavern, that is the only place you will find him in the game for the rest of eternity – he really likes all the fighting
Kise
he’s the type of player that gives Shane the pizzas he finds in the trash can because he thinks it’s a little funny
has instant regret when he runs into Shane’s two heart event
from that point forward, Shane only received pizzas bought at the Stardrop Saloon
Kise has so many save files because he wants to marry all the characters, but doesn’t want to divorce anyone – he can’t take the heartbreak
he saves Hailey for last because he thinks she’s a total bitch, but once he starts pursuing her he falls in love
begs Kuroko every single day to be let into the shared farm
Aomine
once learned that there was a mod that added weed to the game and he thought it was hilarious
he had to ask Kuroko to add it to his game because he was getting frustrated trying to figure out how to install mods
he also downloads a mod that makes all the character portraits look more… appealing…
initially starts pursuing Hailey because of superficial reasons, but stops after a while because he doesn’t find her heart events all that interesting
is honestly surprised when he ends up wanting to marry Emily because all of her heart events made him cackle – “This chick is nuts!” – plus his portrait mod helped a lot, too
Aomine is the type of person to tease Kagami for playing Stardew, but he secretly plays way more than him
Midorima
one day his lucky item was a radish, so he did not stop playing until his character had harvested at least one radish
on his first playthrough, he goes the Joja route
it made way more sense to him and he didn’t have time to go wandering around for odds and ends, he had a farm to maximize
doesn’t even think about building any relationships with the bachelors or bachelorettes
this is totally a money maker sim game to him now
one time Takao downloaded a mod on Midorima’s save file that added heart events for Morris and he was horrified
Murasakibara
he does not find any of the bachelor or bachelorette sprites or portraits cute, so he doesn’t pursue any of them
but when he meets Krobus for the first time, he thinks that the shadow creature is a pretty cute shape and it sold some pretty great stuff
Murasakibara only ever gets Krobus to 8 hearts however, because he doesn’t realize Krobus is a ‘dateable’ character
still visits Krobus regularly to get some cool stuff for his farm
speaking of his farm, it’s a mess
his crops are anywhere and everywhere, there’s no organization, there are weeds and tall grass all around – what is he even doing?
Akashi
Akashi never has time for videogames, so he never really gets to play Stardew unless those rare nights of insomnia come along and he has nothing else to do but try to coax his mind to rest
because he only plays at odd hours and so infrequently, nobody has ever seen him online, but they do see the playtime on his account go up every so often
he plays with headphones on; one, because he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s awake, and two, he enjoys the music in the game
his favorite is the fall soundtrack
actually mostly goes around the map talking to all the neighbors – reading the dialogue helps tire his eyes out – so his farm is the bare minimum he needs to advance in the game
he ever so slowly sees every single 8 heart event for every character, but isn’t really curious about the 10 heart events – he could read the same dialogue over and over to try and sleep
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hetaliawhatifs · 7 years ago
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Can you write a scenario in which Oliver realizes that he accidentally killed is s/o in one of his psychotic episodes?
WARNING: DEATH AND PSYCHOTIC BREAK INSIDEI have been saving this one for a very long time. I wanted to do it right and give it justice. Whoever asked, thank you for your patience and letting me give one of the purest babies a dark moment. -Admin Jay
The rain was pouring down outside as thunder crashed and lightning crackled across the sky…Oliver sat by the window waiting for the flashing lights to come down the street…he knew they would…it was a matter of time…he stared down at his blood soaked hands and looked back at the room before tears slid down his cheeks…he wanted to believe it was a nightmare…but the sounds reverberated in his mind…“Oliver! Stop! N-no! OLIVER!”He shook his head trying to clear their voice from his mind. The thunder crashed again and he looked back at the window before staring down at his once pastel pink sweater vest that was stained with blood…the pastel was gone…it was all red now…red was such an ugly color…red was so vile…so harsh…he hated it…“Oliver! I love you! Please…relax…shhh it’s okay…come here…”Oliver slowly opened the door and sat outside in the rain. The cold water pelting his face and letting the blood drip off of it. He knew what happened…he just couldn’t accept it…all they wanted to do was help…they wanted to make it better…make all the monster go away….and they embraced a monster…and paid for it…soon the flashing lights filled the street and he could feel his body slammed to the ground as cops flooded the scene. Oliver didn’t even struggle as he let them cuff him and throw him in a car. He just stared at the rain and let the memories rush over him…what memories were left…
They opened the door to come in…only to know something was wrong…very wrong.“Oliver?”They heard the bone chilling giggles from the kitchen…they poked their head around the corner to find him baking…but the rat poison on the counter suggested otherwise…they knew the warning. Do. Not. Touch. Oliver. In. An. Episode.But they didn’t care. They were his lover, his soulmate, they were different. They quietly walked in before knocking on the counter.“Ollie, isn’t something wrong with those cupcakes?”As he turned, they could see how far gone he already was. His eyes were swirling with insanity as he gave them his best twisted smile. He had been in this episode for a while…and they just became the focus of his attention. “What could possibly be wrong dearie~? I made them perfect! Don’t you want a taste?”The next words out of their mouth sealed their fate…“N-no…”“No?! NO?! WHY NO?! I MADE THESE SPECIAL! CAN’T YOU SEE IT IS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU?!”He charged them in an instant and pulled them with unknown strength over to the counter and pinned them against it as he help up an almost neon colored cupcake with swirls on it and a light powder on top…“Try it dearie~…”“Ollie…”“TRY IT!”They gulped and quietly whimpered.“Ollie…please relax…”Oliver looked into their eyes and for a second…he came through. Oliver was there and soon quickly backed away from them as he hid in the corner of the kitchen and put his hands on his temples as he started to quietly cry…They knew that Oliver was in there trying to break out…they could feel it…he just needed help.“Oliver! I love you! Please…relax…shhh…come here…”They quietly walked over to him and wrapped their arms around him as they help him against his chest…but as soon as they did…he shuddered…and in a split second they heard the twisted laughter erupting from his core…and jolted as cold steel plunged into their stomach and twisted… They fell to the floor gasping as they looked up at those swirling eyes and screamed as he came down on them with the knife.“Oliver! Stop! N-no! OLIVER!”Soon the rain began…and Oliver blinked before realizing he was staring up at the ceiling…as he slowly sat up he felt dizzy and held his head…only to feel a dampness on his head…as he looked at his fingers he screamed. Blood…he scrambled back before looking up and seeing it…blood…everywhere…Then he saw them…laying there…on the floor…Oliver rushed to them and cupped their cheeks…“Poppet?! POPPET?!”He looked into their eyes and knew…they were gone…and he was covered in their blood…there was only one answer…he did it…he killed them…Oliver screamed as he held them against his chest as the tears flooded down his cheeks. Through the tears he saw the knife still plunged into their heart…they loved him…and he killed them…and left the stinging reminder plunged into their heart…With shaking hands he grabbed the phone…“Hello…I killed them…y-yes…I did it…please…p-please take me away…”
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cloud17dreams · 7 years ago
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other home. || the8
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summary: late night adventure with the8 in his home city c: fluffy. word count: 1500+!! requested: HI EVERYONE OMG IT'S BEEN SO LONG. honestly i'd be surprised if anyone's still here hahaha but this was req'd by a shy cloud! enjoy! - Admin Mochi ✨
Never in your life have you ever felt so nervous. You could hear your heart pumping loudly and your stomach filling up with a million butterflies, like you were on a rollercoaster at a theme park. You twiddle your hands in your lap and peer out the window as your boyfriend spoke Mandarin in the background, leaning forward to pass money over to the taxi driver. You were barely paying attention, only staring up at the inane apartment building in front of you that was so intimidating.
This is it....this is where I'm going to make the biggest blunder of my life.
"Y/N?" you jump in surprise at the sound of Minghao's voice and turn to face him. The boy grins in amusement at you, his eyes scrunching up. "You can open the door now."
It takes you a second to realize he means the taxi door. "O-oh. Right." You meekly chuckle and lift up the handle, pushing the door open. Fresh air and sunlight hits you as your shoes hit the pavement. You and Minghao go over to the back of the cab and help the driver extract your suitcases from the trunk.
Once everything was out, you both thank the driver and then turn around as he drives away. As you're looking up, gulping, Minghao glances over at you. "You ready?" He asks. You hesitate at your boyfriend's question, looking over to meet his golden brown eyes- your own filled with worry.
"Hao....what if they don't like me?" You fret, a pout on your lips as Minghao reached over to fix the collar of your shirt and tuck a strand of your hair down.
Minghao pauses, finally looking you straight in the eye. "Y/N. Stop worrying," Minghao smiles then. "They're going to love you." He loops an arm around your shoulders and begins to pull you forward.
"W-well, how do you know? What if-"
"Because." Minghao interrupts, pecking the side of your head. "I like you."
Needless to say, Minghao's response was of zero help to your nerves. But it was too late to chicken out- because now, you both were in front of his family's apartment. You stand stick-straight as he knocks one, two, three times.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out-
The door was opened almost immediately. A woman in her early forties appears, her face lighting up when she realizes who her guests are. From her golden brown eyes and slim figure- you knew this was your boyfriend's mother.
"Minghao!!" Mrs.Xu exclaims, throwing her arms around her only son. "We missed you so much!!"
"I missed you all too, Mom!!" Minghao replies, a huge smile on his face. A soft smile you couldn't help spreads across your own lips, seeing how happy your boyfriend was. The two part and his mother's attention is suddenly on you, her smile growing even wider.
"Mom, this is Y/N. My girl/boyfriend." Minghao introduces, beaming proudly as he takes your hand.
You smile at the woman and greet her politely in Mandarin, just like you've been practicing for the past month. Minghao's mother grins in approval and responds with a polite greeting as well. She looks at her son and says something you can't quite catch but know it must be something good because Minghao is nodding, grinning.
She then beckons you both to come in and you both pick up your suitcase handles, rolling them inside while taking off your shoes.
The apartment is simple but pretty. A kitchen is to your left while the rest of the room serves as the den. White walls, clean floors, a glass door that leads onto the balcony. You could see plants were on the patio, soaking up the summer rays.
Minghao retires his suitcase near the shoe rack and you follow his example, shyly trailing after him as he makes his way to the couch. You notice Mrs.Xu had gone somewhere else in the house, leaving the two of you alone.
You take a seat next to Minghao, sitting primly as you looked around. Lots of picture frames were mounted on the walls and so, you occupy yourself. You catch yourself smiling as you watch the photographs depict your boyfriend from the day he was born to the young artist he was today- his posters were even put up along with a few choice fantaken pictures that his parents probably found on the Internet.
Minghao tugs on your hand then and you look over, kind of melting at the soft smile he was giving you. It was reassuring, a silent way of asking if you were okay. You smile back, letting him know you were.
The two of you look up, hearing the sound of footsteps. Mrs.Xu was back, her husband in tow. He had Minghao's face and smile. Standing up, you both greeted him. Mr.Xu reached out for his son first and embraced him tightly. Just like with his wife, Minghao introduces you to him and the smile Mr.Xu gives you reminds you so much of Minghao's- warm and inviting. He shakes your hand and then Minghao's mother is calling from the kitchen, telling you both to sit down and eat.
Mission Meet the Parents: accompli.
"That wasn't so bad, right?" Minghao asks as you're both making up your beds. Seperate airbeds, of course.
When you both arrived in Anshan, it had been around 5:30 pm. Now it was 7:30 pm. Dinner had gone well and even though Minghao had to translate for you 80% of the time, it had been a great time. His parents were so kind and patient and funny, it was obvious where Minghao had gotten it all from.
"No, it wasn't." You reply as you smooth the top of your comforter down. "Your parents are so nice, Hao."
"Told you."
You roll your eyes, smiling. "Yeah, yeah...."
After Minghao fixes his blanket, he rolls over the width of his bed like a ninja. Quick as a flash, his hands shoot out and yank at your waist, bringing you down onto his bed with a yelp of surprise. Giggling, you both lay on your backs, gazing at each other with adoration.
"Hey." You whisper sternly, focusing in on his orchid eyes. "No funny business. Your parents are next door."
Minghao chuckles and kisses your cheek. "Alright, boss."
It's quiet for a while as you both stare at each other contentedly. "Y/N?"
"Hmm?"
"I know we're kind of tired but can I take you somewhere really quick?"
"Hao, where are we going?" You ask as the two of you walk down the dim, almost-empty street. The sound of your sneakers tapping against concrete mingled with soft breathing are the only sounds you can hear. You fiddle with the strings of the hoodie Minghao had pulled over your head before leaving, the thick fabric soft and protective against the cool night.
"You'll see!" Your boyfriend says with a sweet smile. He takes your hand and pulls you forward, tucking you under his arm. "It's one of my favorite places. I used to come here all the time before I moved to Korea."
"Oh, okay."
The two of you continue to stroll and talk, with you leaning into Minghao's body. Along the way, he would point to different shops and buildings, closed down for the night.
"That's my middle school. I honestly think the best part of living nearby was that I got to sleep in and wake up at 7:30. High school sadly killed my dreams."
"It doesn't look like much but that shop sells some great ice cream."
"Oh, that's the park! I use to skateboard a lot and that's where the festival is always held and we got to dance every year."
"That café is a puppy café. We can go tomorrow, if you like."
Maybe twenty minutes later and the streets are starting to get more filled as you both approach the heart of his town. A businessman passes by and then two college-age girls giggling to each other. The look they gave Minghao didn't go unnoticed- it wasn't a surprise that people recognized him. He was The8 of Seventeen, after all.
"Babe, look!" Minghao says excitedly, pointing at one of the many kiosks across the street. Steam emulates from the cart and you couldn't read the characters on the sign but you could see the produce.
"Ooh tornado fries!!" You grin and begin to pull him towards the greasy sticks of potato-y goodness.
Minghao orders two when you both get there and while waiting, you look around. It was probably 8 pm and the marketplace was still pretty filled with different types of people purchasing things. The air was a little thick, thanks to the steam, but you could see the twinkling stars and the neon lights from stores and clubs that add to the nightlife feel.
"Here." Minghao passes you your stick and you two are off again, going in the opposite direction.
"Turn here." The slim boy tells you, halting to a stop in front of a dark alley.
You look at Minghao with a smirk. "Hey, hasn't your mom taught you to never lead someone into an empty alley alone?"
"Yeah, but what if that someone is my significant other?" Minghao says with a cheeky smile and tugs on your hand. "Come on. You trust me, right?"
And so the two of you walk down and at the end, Minghao reveals a ladder. He lets go of your hand and you watch as he jumps onto the Dumpster that's positioned underneath. With one quick hop, he's holding onto the bottom rung, his feet swinging in the air until it gives way with the help of weight and gravity.
Minghao fixes the ladder then looks at you with excitement bright in his eyes. "Come on!"
You follow suit and climb up after the slim boy. The metal rungs shiver underneath your feet but you venture on, trusting that you wouldn't fall to your death.
Soon, you were at the top and Minghao was waiting, pulling you up. Once on your feet, you could see you were on top of the roof. And from here....
Your jaw silently drops in amazement as you step closer to the railings to get a better look.
It was a view of Minghao's city, a whole panorama filled with small bright lights, winding streets, and tiny people making their way to their destinations.
"We're on top of my old dance studio." Minghao informs you. You peer back and see that he too is in a trance, the city lights reflecting in his irises.
"Ohh, cool," You turn back around. "I can certainly see why you loved it here. It's so relaxing."
You continue to talk as Minghao sidles up next to you. "I mean, it's kinda crazy. Everyone's so busy and yet we're standing in this place, just looking down."
"Yeah," Minghao chuckles, looking out with you. Again, it’s quiet.
"They say your home is where the heart is." Minghao says after a while as he comes over to wraps his arms around your waist, propping his chin in the crook of your smooth neck. "Isn't that nice? It's kinda like you're looking at my heart."
You smile. "Your heart is beautiful."
"Thanks. But I don't quite agree with the statement."
"Why not?"
"Because." Minghao gives you an impish grin and kisses your cheek. "This is just half of my heart. You’re the other half.”
note: WAS THAT GROSS ASGSSJS anyway i feel like all my good ideas come late at night bc i literally shot out of bed at 1 AM and was like YEAH lmao sorry if this sounds rushed tho ): honestly this was going to be a series of little places but i thought i'd do a late night adv thing bc the8 gives me those vibes?? the drive around at 12 AM type, you know? aesthetic af, yes. so yeah hope you all liked this!! love you all!!
- Admin Mochi ✨
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schooldays-365 · 7 years ago
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hello! i'd like to request a christmas one shot of mika kagehira just celebrating christmas together! sfw and fluff please and all the best with the blog ^^
I’M SO SORRY ANON THIS CAME IN LATE. I WAS PLANNING TO POST THIS ON CHRISTMAS OR ON MIKA’S BIRTHDAY AND I TOTALLY FORGOT TO QUEUE THIS POST. I’M SUCH A HORRIBLE ADMIN AHHHHHHH
~admin neon
It was that time of the year again when streets were packed with multitudes of people, going in and out of stores to buy last-minute presents for their loved ones as the snow fell on them softly. Fairy lights hung from the trees alongside the giant cardboard displays. The soft, melodic voices of choirs singing carols could be heard at every corner you turned.
It was Christmas.
Ah yes, when I talk about Christmas what comes to your mind? The presents? The food? Or perhaps just some quiet time with your lover by your side, sipping the hot cocoa you made for the two of you?
You wish.
Because you see, my dear readers, Christmas means that stores will now be open 24 hours a day to cater to their customers, and that also means that your dear boyfriend was too busy working to spend the holiday with you. When he told you this you weren’t really surprised. I mean, he has his personal financial issues, which you tried to help him with- but the boy would have none of it because he is a stubborn little prick. So here you were, sitting in your living room with a cup of mocha in one hand, and a bar of chocolate in another, watching “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and loving every second of it. I mean, who doesn’t love Tim Burton movies? As the end credits started to roll in, you heard a subtle click at your door. Mika had told you not expect him to be back before midnight so who could it be?
You grabbed the first thing you laid your hands on; an umbrella. Not an ideal weapon to protect yourself with, but it was still better than nothing.
Inching towards the door, you raised the umbrella high above your head; bracing yourself for the worst when-
“OH MY HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS, PUT THAT DAMN THING DOWN. YA COULDA KILLED ME YANNO?!”
“Mika?”
“DON’T MIKA ME! DID YA SUDDENLY DECIDE TO BE A SERIAL KILLER OR SOMETHIN?” shouted the heterochromatic boy as he slid down the now closed door, hand over his thumping heart.
You dropped your umbrella, rushing and practically diving into his currently un-outstretched arms, much to his surprise. You buried your face in his chest, apologizing furiously.
“Iwam shwo shoerry!”
“I can’t hear what ya sayin.”
“I swaid iwam showerry.” you mumbled incoherently into his sweatered chest.
Sighing, Mika placed a cold hand on your head; patting down your wayward strands before he ran his fingers downwards, combing through your hair. The gesture felt oddly comforting for the both of you, seeing that he was usually too embarrassed to even hold your hand in private.
He continued with his ministrations, almost lulling you to sleep. Almost.
“I shoulda been the one sayin sorry.” he whispered, looking down at your form tenderly, “I’ve scared ya? Didn’t I?”
Shaking your head, you assured him that he had not frightened you too much- although you had thought this was your last Christmas moments ago; but we’re not going to tell him that now, are we?
Mika, on the other hand, seemed to have bought your little white lie and had a visibly relaxed expression on his face. He held your petite figure closer towards his body and stopped short, awkwardly looking up at something.
Confused, you looked up in the same direction-
Only to find a mistletoe hanging innocently over the both of you.
Now you see, our dear Mika, yes our shy and awkward little bean has never been one to be big on PDA. So essentially, he has never once touched you; save the few times he held hands with you only because Arashi made him to.
Now back to our innocent mistletoe that was hanging over the both of you- 
Let’s say the two of you were beyond flustered. Neither of you said a word as the two of you just sat there for how long you did not know. Mika was the first to break the silence, albeit clearing his throat awkwardly. 
“So um… we’re supposed to kiss right?” 
“Uh…yeah…” you replied, shifting around uncomfortably and avoiding his gaze in general. 
Seeing that he was going nowhere with the conversation, he leaned forward and quickly captured your lips with his. You were lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. For a first timer, Mika was a pretty good kisser. It only took you seconds before you melted into the kiss. 
When the two of you broke away, the blush on his face didn’t go unnoticed by you. But you guessed that it was the same for you since you could feel the heat pooling on your cheeks. 
“That was kinda nice huh?” Mika asked quietly. 
Burying your head in your hands you could only nod back at his question, your embarrassment coming to hit you like a truck at full speed. 
Mika looked at you and smiled; maybe first times with you weren’t so bad after all.
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choisgirls · 8 years ago
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What if one day, MC is just feeling really romantic and fluffy (?) and just starts randomly slow dancing with RFA+ Saeran. How would they react and how would it make them feel? (I'm feeling really fluffy) ^^ Hopefully you're still taking requests! :3
A/N: Aaww! Thisrequest is really cute! ^^ ~Admin 404
*YOOSUNG:
               -The two of you were justwalking downtown when you heard an outdoor symphony start to play
               -You gasped before grabbing hisarm and practically sprinting towards the music, dragging him along
               -“M-MC! Wait! You-you’rerunning too fast! Where are we going!?”
               -He ran into you because youstopped so abruptly in front of the musicians
               -Looking around, he saw a fairlylarge crowd- people were either standing there and simply admiring the music,while others seemed to be dancing together
               -You turned to him, a wide smileon your face as you grabbed one of his hands, putting the other one on hisshoulder
               -“Yoooooosuuuuuung! Pleasedance with me!”
               -His face turned a neon red- sored in fact that it could put Saeyoung’s hair to shame.
               -“H-here? Out in the open?With this many people around here?”
               -The soft smile you gave himmelted him into a puddle. Without a second thought, he put his other hand onyour waist and started to sway the both of you back and forth softly
               -You couldn’t help but gigglewhen his burst of confidence faded because he had absolutely no idea how toslow dance, so the two of you were stumbling left and right, bumping into people,but all around having a good time with each other
*ZEN:
               -He came home to some soft musicplaying in the living room
               -Among the music, he could hearthe little pitter-patter of your feet moving around
               -So, out of curiosity, he took apeek around the corner to see what in the world you were doing
               -He watched as you spun aboutthe room, switching between who lead the dance- you or the broom you’ve madeyour dance partner
               -His heart practically flew outof his chest as he watched how happy you seemed to be as you danced around
               -Couldn’t help but join you; thelight blush that grew across your face when he appeared in front of you was notleft unnoticed
               -One hand to your hip and theother intertwining with yours, he gracefully guided you around the room,avoiding the furniture with ease
               -Your smile made his whole worldstutter and burst with joy! Seeing you genuinely happy, with something aslittle as dancing around the room with him, makes him fall more and more inlove with you
               -The end of the song wasnearing, and he decided what better way to end the dance than with a kiss
               -So he spun you around andpulled you back to him, holding your face gently before leaning in to place asmall kiss on your lips, living in the giggle you let out afterwards
               -He loved the feeling of dancingwith you so much, he plays the song on repeat for hours just so he can have anexcuse to pull you into another dance
*JAEHEE:
               -You felt incredibly lonely athome, so you decided to visit Jaehee at work for her lunch break!
               -Placing a neatly wrapped lunchbox on top of her paperwork, she jumped a little in surprise before she lookedup at you
               -“Oh, MC! I didn’t hear youcome in! What are you doing here?”
               -“Um, what does it looklike, silly? I brought you lunch! I know for a fact you didn’t eat yet, so I’mhere to make sure you do!” She raised her eyebrow in suspicion, waitingfor you to finish. “Well… I mean, I might have been lonely aswell?” you replied, shrugging sheepishly
               -As much as she wanted to gether work done, she also couldn’t deny having lunch with you
               -A visit from you was alwaysrelaxing, refreshing, and just what she needed to get through the day
               -The time spent after lunch wascalm, listening to some musical soundtracks play softly in the background
               -But you jumped up when afamiliar song came on, grabbing her hand to make sure she followed you up aswell
               -One hand took hold of her hipwhile the other held her hand gently, pulling her closer to you as you took thelead, guiding her around her desk
               -She was blushing like crazy,the fact that she’s at work and you were being so loving, she loved it but itwas so unprofessional, what if Jumin had come out and saw she was dancing withyou rather than working?
               -The moment you kissed her cheekthough, she decided she didn’t care if Jumin walked out, she was enjoying andbasking in your love and affection and he could fuck off (though she would never say it out loud to his face)
*JUMIN:
               -He could hear the music playingfrom the living room but he was busy finishing up important business in hishome office
               -The sound of your laughter iswhat finally pulled him from his paperwork hell
               -He peeked through the doorway,watching as you were swaying back and forth to some classical music
               -You spun around and he couldsee that you were holding Elizabeth in your arms
               -She was meowing in enjoyment,rubbing the top of her head against your jaw as you continued to dance with her
               -“Are you having fun,MC?” You spun quickly to watch him walk towards you, a smirk creepingacross his lips
               -“How about you, Elizabeth?Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked as he reached to scratch the top ofher head, she practically jumped up to meet his hand
               -“We’re having a lot offun! But, I think it’d be a lot more fun if you joined us!” you shot himyour award winning smile, one you knew from experience that he couldn’t deny
               -So you place Elizabeth on thefloor before interlocking your fingers behind his neck, his hands making theirway to your waist
               -He lead you all around the roomwith a thick aura of elegance, Elizabeth wrapping around both of your feet asthe two of you danced
               -It got to the point you had topick her up again and hold her between the two of you just so you wouldn’t trip
               -But the three of you spent therest of the night dancing together as a trio, you and Jumin switching off onwho gets to hold her, laughing when she would meow in complaint when the two ofyou danced alone
*SAEYOUNG:
               -“Saaaeeyyyoooouuuunnnng!”you whined, throwing yourself across his desk, he quickly grabbed his keyboardand lifted it above you before impact
               -“MC! I’m trying to finishthis! We can play after I’m done!” he watched as your lips puckered into apout “Oh come on, don’t do that!” In a huff, you crossed your armsand walked out, hearing Saeyoung yell an “I love you!” over his shoulder
               -You sat on the couch, justgrumbling to yourself, not seeing Saeran sitting next to you
               -“Hey not that I really,you know, care? But you’ve been grumbling to yourself for a good 10 minutesnow” the sound of his voice made you jump, your head whipping in hisdirection
               -“I’m starting to think weshould put a bell on you.” “YOU SAT DOWN NEXT TO ME AND STARTED TOGRUMBLE, ASSHOLE”
               -You sighed and rested yourelbow on the arm of the couch, holding your chin in your hand. “I’m just..well it’ll probably gross you out, but I’m just really…. loving right now,and your stupid brother won’t pay any attention to me”
               -“You’re right, that isgross. But just go make him payattention to you. Push him out of the chair, lean over and type random thingson his keyboard, I don’t know. Just go be annoying somewhere other thanhere”
               -So you took his advice…well,lightly at least. You  pulled his chairaway from his desk as he tried to type, his cries of slight distress made youlaugh softly. “MC! I was working! What are you doing!”
               -You caught his hands while theywere gesturing to the desk and pulled him up without any hesitation from hispart. You wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head against hischest before he could sit back down
               -The sound of his heartbeatkicked up in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and set his chin onthe top of your head. When you started to sway and move the two of you in acircle, a small chuckle come from the back of his throat
               -“Okay okay, I get it nowMC, I’m sorry I was ignoring you. Work can wait a little bit if it’s foryou”
*V:
               -Soft music is always playingduring his galleries
               -He wants his guests to feelrelaxed enough with their surroundings that they can truly feel the emotionsbehind his photos
               -So he has you help him picksongs to play because nothing is more relaxing to him than you!
               -The night of his show, hecouldn’t help but admire you as you talked to his guests, walking gracefully,the true picture of elegance in his eyes
               -The song playing caught hisattention and was the only thing able to pull him from his thoughts about you
               -He remembered you had told himit was one of your favourites when the two of you had put the playlist together
               -Making his way over to you, hestopped to bow in front of you, hand outstretched, looking up at you slightlywith a warm smile on his face
               -“MC, would you pleasehonour me with a dance?”
               -His smile only grew when hewatched you look at the crowd now looking at the two of you, your face growinghotter every second before you nodded and took his hand
               -You found comfort fromeveryone’s eyes by burying your face against his chest as the both of youwrapped your arms around each other, you quickly found yourself gaining moreconfidence as he lead the two of you around the floor
               -With a graceful spin and aquick dip, the dance ended with you completely red and him smiling down at youwith a face completely full of love, everyone in the room could just feel theemotion radiating off the two of you and clapped to celebrate
*SAERAN:
               -“MC, I don’t dance.” queue the high school musical song
               -“But Saeran, pleeeeease!Just this once? No one’s here to see! It’s just me!”
               -One of his eyebrows rose as hecrossed both his arms and his legs, eyeing you suspiciously
               -“Just why do you want todance with me all of a sudden anyway? Is Saeyoung here? Did he put you up tothis?”
               -You threw your hands in the airin a huff, puffing your cheeks out before your hands landed on your hips
               -“No! Saeyoung isn’t here!Is it so bad that I just want to be close to the love of my life? And incorporatesomething cute couples do? Is it?”
               -He rolled his eyes beforestanding up and replacing the hands on your hips with his own
               -“Fine! Whatever! Just- Idunno, just put your hands somewhere,” he said, blushing and lookinganywhere but at your face as you interlocked your fingers behind his neck
               -It was painfully obvious thathe was stressing because he had no idea what to do, so you took initiative tostart swaying the two of you back and forth
               -After a while, he got a littlemore comfortable with the idea of moving around the room, and he lifted hiseyes from the floor to meet your own
               -“I guess this isn’t thatbad… as long as it’s with you,” he said, lightly kissing the tip of yournose, “but tell Saeyoung and I’ll kill you.” You giggled in responsebefore nodding and laying your head on his shoulder
               -“Whatever you say, ya bigsofty.”
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bartopwritingshit · 7 years ago
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Chapter 3
Finally done with his reflection on the sad state of affairs that led to this kid losing his metal hand, North sped off down the road, the high pitched whine of his street bikes magic engine fading into the background as he pulled onto the cities arterial motorway, the cascade of neon brightness and noise causing a sharp pain to lance from his eyes into his head. He never liked bright lights, and this neon nightmare only made things worse for him. Weaving through traffic, he quickly reached the turn off to head toward his employers planned drop point, and after navigating the narrow streets for a while, he finally found the overweight slob and a couple other cops waiting outside an empty warehouse. Pulling up beside them, he stuck out a hand for his pay, and immediately felt the light credit stick fall into his palm.
“I suggest you go easy on the kid, officer,” he said as he unlocked the magnetic restraints, and pulled out the kids hand from his pocket, “Your goods are a little damaged, and might break if you’re too rough too quickly.” The two other officers dragged the kid from the bike slowly, carrying him into the warehouse, as the first cop snatched the kids hand from North.
“You did your job, what happens to the kid isn’t your concern bounty hunter. So fuck off,” the cop spat right in the hunters face before waddling off after the pair of cops that had the kid in their arms, flicking his arm outward to reveal a thick, telescoping baton. North knew all too well the kid would be better off in a ditch somewhere right now, but a jobs a job, and he started his bike up again, speeding off down the road toward the motorway again, returning to headquarters to receive his next paycheck from whatever corporate goon, disgruntled employee or middle manager looking for a promotion happened to be his next case. Once again, he was immediately assaulted by a neon nightmare, his head hurting, his eyes desperately trying to adjust to the brightness, while weaving through traffic once again, heading for the west end of the city, where there is no sky, only neon stars, on a backdrop of concrete walls. This was the new Sydney. Even an island in the pacific could become a corporate toy, and Australia took to its new role like a vr addict to the latest release.
Finally reaching his turn, North swerved sharply, narrowly missing a cheap, clunker of a car carrying several weres, now the side streets were also brightly lit with neon signs, and Etelä pulled up out the front of an unassuming ramen store, before turning down the alley between it and the next store, a video game arcade of all things, and pulled into a small garage. Hopping off his bike, he entered the building and rode the elevator to the third floor, the floor of his agencies offices. Stepping out of the office was like stepping into an armory. Guns, mod limbs, even a few military grade antimateriel weapons. And somehow there managed to be several computer cubicles, and even an administration desk amongst this mess.
“North, you fucking cunt, get the fuck in here mate.” The foul mouthed bat calling North over was Declan, his handler, the little bastard in charge of giving North his cases and digging up information on targets and employers, where appropriate of course. North stepped past the admin desk, ignoring the blatant sexual look that the girl behind the counter gave every hunter when they walked by, and stepped into Declans cubicle. “We hooked a good case. Independent type, loaded to the brim with credits, asked for you by name. You must’ve impressed someone.” He handed North a folder, and a small note. “There are apparently conditions though, you have a ride along for this bounty. A modified Werewolf, looking to break into bounty hunting himself. According to our employer, he’ll be a bigger help than you’d expect from someone who hasn’t done this job. I assume either security, or maybe he was in a gang. I dunno, but we’re getting paid a fucking shit load for this little job so we should be set for a wh...”
“Declan, focus,” North growled, “What’s the job?”
“We gotta find this guys daughter. Apparently she ran off with some boy, and daddy doesn’t like that.”
“Of course not. Got any leads?”
“Just the boys name. Oh, your ride along is waiting at reception, he might know a little more.”
“Thanks, Dec. Cunt.” North stepped out of the cubicle and set off for reception to meet his ride along. This was unusual, to say the least, and the fact he was a were only made it weirder. Stepping past the desk, North stopped to look for his ride along and realised the neon must’ve hit him really hard. Standing next to the desk was a 7 foot tall red wolf with an eyepatch and an obviously custom made mod, with wires, plating and screws seeming to have been cobbled together at random, for his right arm.
The giant reached out a paw in greeting, and as soon as North took it, he shook it while saying “The names Richard Fenris, you must be North...uh..your last name escapes me. My bad friend.”
“It’s just North, and you aren’t my friend, Richard, you are a condition of my job, and that’s it.”
“I can tell already we’re going to be great friends,” the wolf chuckled and stepped into the elevator, “Shall we?”
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