#some of the deaths were p stylish
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Battle Royale is more brutal than I was expecting. Usually when I go back to watch the origin of a trend (death tournaments/matches in this case), I'm a little underwhelmed, but that wasn't the case for this.
It's still really good. Highly recommend.
#underwhelmed in the sense that I read/watched the stories inspired by that original story that built on its legacy first#and improved on its initial flaws or subverted it somehow#Battle Royale is just...a really good death tournament story#like there's a couple issues I have w it but it's still solid for the most part#I was getting pissed reading another death tournament book where the rules of the game were just way too loose#this was a fun palette cleanser from that tbh#some of the deaths were p stylish#I won't get into it bc spoilers but man...that overhead shot in the lighthouse (iykyk) WOOO#also that bit with the photo foreshadowing that character's eventual death OOF#im still processing lol#Battle Royale
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FROM MY MOUTH TO YOURS ♡
pairing: light yagami x fem!reader x naoya zen'in
summary: light yagami is not gay. he has a girlfriend. naoya zen'in is just a special case.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), anal, fingering, threesome, mlm, misogyny, internalized homophobia, infidelity & cheating
a/n: people say bring back crossover fics... bring back silly fics... so i did... my masterpiece... picture of naoya by @ sso_s__ on twitter
Light felt as though he was looking into a funhouse mirror right now. The man that stood across from him in the alley resembled him in so many ways. The blonde hair swept into pointed bangs, the seemingly permanent scowl curled onto his lips. Even this guy's way of standing matched his own.
But there were also strong differences between them. The other man's hair ended with black tips. Shining silver studs pierced his earlobes, complimenting his pretty face. His golden eyes were even framed with inky liner.
Light could never imagine looking so stylish. He'd always relied on his natural looks to impress those around him. Never had he thought about enhancing his appearance with hair dye or jewelry or makeup. That stuff should be of no concern to a god. Light decides who lives and who dies in this world. Not if he wants his eyes to have winged tips or be double lined. Still, he felt a draw to it for some reason.
He'd been walking back to his apartment when Ryuk warned him something strange was lurking up ahead. Expecting a shinigami or at least another death note owner, he crept forward on guard. But all he found was this guy, who despite his striking appearance, seemed normal. The only thing of any significance was the way he was staring back with confusion.
"Can I help you?" Light asks, the words tasting hesitant on his tongue.
"Where am I?" the other man is quick to respond, clipped and expectant.
Light blinks at the question. "Are you lost?" he responds without answering the question.
"No," he replies so fast it seems automatic, "Well... sort of."
Strange. Light pulls out his phone and flips it open, thumb ready to dial a number. "Is there someone I could call for you?"
The other man's eyes catch on the device, examining it with a combination of curiosity and dismissal.
"What do you have that old thing for?" he scoffs. "Haven't seen one of those in a while."
A frown pulls at Light's lips. Sure, the phone wasn't the most modern model, but it wasn't that old. For someone needing help, this guy had an attitude about him.
"I know it's not like the new touch screen ones they have out now, but it works for me," he says flatly with a shrug, "Now did you have anyone who could pick you up or give you a ride home?"
Despite his attempt to move the conversation forward, the stranger still seems stuck on Light's choice of electronics. His brows have furrowed together, a gleam of bewilderment taking over the golden flecks in his irises.
"You know they have ones that can flip open with a touch screen. Why don't you get one of those? I doubt that thing can even play a video without burning a hole through your hand."
Light's eyes narrow at the other man.
A flip phone with a touch screen? Why would this guy feel the need to tell such an inconsequential lie? Does he think I'm stupid? Was this a prank or a test of some sort? But for what? He's tested nothing but my patience so far.
He shakes his head after thinking to himself, still undecided on the motives of this pretty boy.
"I don't need it to play videos. I have a computer for that. Do you want me to call someone for you or not?" he huffs.
"It's 2018, phones are computers. Why restrict yourself?"
"Don't tell me you don't know when you are either," Light retorts.
"What?"
"It's not 2018. It's 2012."
This guy glances across the alley as if he's suspicious. Of what, Light has no clue. He wasn't the one loitering around a dark alleyway as the sun went down, getting into arguments with strangers about the year and flip phones.
He almost rolls his eyes but sighs instead. "Look, I don't have all night. I'd be happy to help you, but if you don't need anything, I really should get going."
In the first bit of uncertainty from this man, he pauses. "Could I go back with you to your apartment?"
Light's brow quirks up. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't know you, and my girlfriend wouldn't be too happy about me bringing a stranger home."
A sneer even more severe than the one he'd given before takes over the man's features. "Please. Why would I be interested in thieving off someone carrying around a flip phone? My life is much more lavish than your own, I just don't want to wait around in an alley while I decide what to do."
Light feels his own arrogance boiling within, begging to bubble over and show itself. But before he can defend himself, this guy keeps talking.
"But, if you let your girlfriend decide who is and isn't allowed in your apartment, I doubt you'd be much help to me anyways," he says.
"She isn't the one who decides, but I don't want to deal with her getting upset because I brought some random guy home."
"You make it sound like she'd be jealous," the man smirks, a hint of teasing in his voice.
The words knock the wind out of Light. He audibly sputters.
Why would she be jealous of a man? She knows I'm not gay. It would be pointless. Why would this guy even suggest that? Does he think I'm gay? There's no way. Is he gay? He's playing at something. He wants to rile me up so I'll let him come with me. But why? I'll go along with it just to see what he wants. If anything goes wrong, I have the piece of the death note on me. All I need for that is...
"What's your name?"
"Naoya Zen'in," he answers smoothly, "And yours?"
"Light." No way he was giving away his full name to this guy. He didn't know if he had a death note of his own on him. "I'll let you come with me, Naoya. But as soon as you get yourself together, you're gone."
"Works for me. I doubt it will take long, Light," Naoya agrees and crosses the alleyway to approach him, "Let's get going."
The two of them walk side by side in silence down the narrow pathway between buildings. Silence fills the space between them. Light continues to ruminate on the previous conversation while Naoya trots with an air of smug satisfaction about him.
"So why were you even in that alley in the first place? And why don't you know what you're going to do?" the younger man asks.
"I'm not from here. Well the city, I mean. My family lives outside it. I just have to figure out what to do about getting there," Naoya says, answering the second question first, "Last night, they had a party, and those things can get kind of wild. I don't really remember how I got out here."
A simplified explanation, Light can tell. "A party? So were you drinking or something?" he inquires further.
"Something like that... my family is different than most. You can't really understand if you're not one of us. This is probably like a test or something."
"Testing your ability to call a cab or get someone to give you a lift? Sounds pretty pointless," Light says. This guy was so casually arrogant. It rubbed some part of Light in a way he couldn't explain.
"My trip home will be farther than you might think," is all the older man says back.
Another pause comes over them. The sound of their shoes on the pavement takes the place of voices. Looking down, Light notices their paces are in sync. He lags for a moment to disrupt that.
"So you were coming home from work?" Naoya asks, picking up the slack in the conversation. From the way he speaks, it seems as if asking others about themselves is foreign to him.
"Something like that," he shrugs. A sigh leaves him.
I should try to be social. To appear normal. If this is a test of some sort, I can't let him know he got in my head.
"I work on the Kira case. The investigation team aimed at discovering his identity," he tries again.
"Kira?" the other man asks. When Light turns and looks at him, it seems as though he had no clue what any of that meant.
"Yeah, Kira," he says. There was no way there were people who still didn't know about Kira. Not believing or agreeing was one thing. But not knowing was impossible. Not after the domination he'd achieved over the world since L's death.
"Am I supposed to know what that is?"
Light scowls and grumbles in irritation. It chips at both sides of his pride, even if he doesn't want to admit it. "Very funny."
"I told you my family lives far out of the city," Naoya defends.
"You'd have to be from another world to not know who Kira is," Light shakes his head, "Just follow along. We're almost there."
Naoya shrugs and continues on behind Light as they reach the final bit of the journey to his apartment. Thunder cracks in the cloudy sky above, indicating some rain would pour down in the coming hours. The wind was picking up too. Light pulls his jacket tighter around his frame and bounces up the stairs to his floor.
He pulls the key out of his pocket when he gets there and jams it in the lock. The door creaks open, and the both of them head inside. All the lights in the apartment are still off, meaning no one else has come home yet. Before doing anything else, Light slips his coat off and hangs it up along with his bag on the sleek rack fastened to the wall. He then drops his keys and wallet on the nearby wooden side table.
Walking further into the apartment, he clicks a light on. Once Naoya can see, he scans the place. It's much neater than he would've expected from a young couple. No belongings strewn over couches or chairs, no mail piling on the counter, or furniture that's damaged but yet to be replaced.
Light heads into the living room, so Naoya trails a few paces behind. It's modest but comfortable in here. A basic sofa and a plush set of chairs. A tv on the wall that was nice for the time. The kitchen in an alcove off to the side, and then a hallway towards the back which he assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. The two of you even had a sliding door to a balcony on the wall opposite him. He could see the angry storm clouds brewing in the distance.
The first piece of evidence that this place is lived-in sits on the bookshelf next to the tv. Naoya's eyes linger on the object the moment he notices it. A framed photograph. Bordered by silver, Light and you. Your hand cupped beneath his jaw, fingers squishing his cheeks as you plant a kiss to his face.
"Is that your girlfriend?" he asks. He tries to sound neutral, but his natural disdain seeps through.
As if snapped out of his thoughts, Light's head whips in his direction. His eyes search for what Naoya's referring to, but once he sees, he nods. A simple gesture, no real pride in it.
"Yeah, that's her."
"She's pretty, I guess."
"Yeah."
"Have you been with her long?" Naoya asks and turns to face Light completely.
The other man sits down in one of the chairs, silently beckoning Naoya to do the same.
"Yeah, about... four years now."
"Is she the only one you've ever been with?" he asks as he sits down on the couch instead.
"Yeah. The only lasting one, anyways."
"The only one you've ever fucked?"
Light's cheeks fill with color at the question. First implying he was gay, and now this? What was this guy's problem? He sits up straighter in his chair, clearing his throat and smoothing out some wrinkles in his pants.
"That's really none of your business. You shouldn't be so blunt as a guest in someone else's home. Maybe your family never taught you that."
A grin breaks out across the other man's pretty face. "It's a reasonable assumption. You two live together. You're adults."
"Then why do you even have to ask?" Light mutters.
He's far too good at bothering me. Maybe I should try playing by his rules. Be blunt. Take the offensive. Find out if he's up to something.
"I'm just trying to figure you out," Naoya interrupts his inner monologue, "You don't have to get all defensive about it. Even if you're a virgin, I won't judge."
"I'm not a virgin," Light says quickly, putting that to rest before it can even become a debate.
In truth, his sex life with you was a sore spot. He wasn't a virgin - that was true - but that's not to say you two have sex often. A month had passed since the last time he'd been inside you. It was never bad... he just had more important things to do. He still cared about you, in a way. He always made sure to keep you safe. But he didn't have time for romance. Not while crafting a new world.
That had been a point of contention in your relationship for years, something you were constantly getting upset about. There was no way Naoya could know that from the thirty or so minutes they'd known each other though. So why was he asking?
"What are you even trying to figure out? Shouldn't you be more worried about getting home than what me and my girlfriend do in our alone time?" Light says, a bit snappier than before.
Naoya's grin becomes more fox-like. "I'm still thinking about that. Can I not wonder about you too?" he asks. When he receives no response from Light, he continues speaking. "I just thought it would make sense if you were a virgin. But it still adds up that you've never been with anyone else. That's why you let her have such a handle on you."
The words inflame Light, but he tries to suppress any reaction. "She doesn't have a handle on me. I handle her."
"Didn't seem like it when I asked if I could come over here."
Damn it. He got me there. What am I doing? I don't have to put up with this. I don't even know this guy. Who the hell does he think he is? I could have him dead in minutes if I wanted to. He should be on his knees- I mean bowing at my feet, thanking me for sparing his life.
Light's expression grows more agitated. "Well I do. I'm sure you think you're some kind of expert on this, but I doubt you've ever even had a girlfriend before," he fires back.
And Naoya laughs. He fucking laughs at him! Unbelievable.
"You're right, I've never had a girlfriend before, but I've been with tons of girls," he says.
Light rolls his eyes so hard, they're in danger of falling out of his skull. "I can't say I don't see why they didn't stick around."
"It's not them who make the decision to not go forward. I have no interest in having a girlfriend," he says simply, "Women are only kept around because God knew that men couldn't be burdened with the curse of bearing children. So he saddled women with that duty. That's their purpose. I don't understand why we have to pretend their existence should amount to anything more."
Silence fills the room after that mini-speech. Light had never heard anyone say anything so... like that. This guy's family really must have been out there.
"That's not-"
"It's the truth. Any man who says otherwise is lying or has been tricked into believing that he should love something so wholly beneath him," he continues.
Light doesn't even know how to argue with him when he seems so confident that he's correct. How did the conversation even get to this point?
"I can see it in your eyes, you know she's not your equal," he says and gestures to the picture with you on the shelf, "You don't have the connection with her that you have with even me, and I've known you less than an hour. She can't understand you."
The words are uncomfortable in Light's ears. They wriggle their way inside his head and wrap around his brain, squeezing and trying to push their sentiment onto him. Part of him felt it was true. Oftentimes, he didn't think you could understand him. Not from lack of effort, just as if it was something you're incapable of.
You'd whine at him for attention, pressing against his side on the couch in an attempt to get him to cuddle you. And he would sometimes, but not as much as you wanted. So your rants about his lack of affection never seemed to end. You never thought to look at it from his perspective. Always jumping to the conclusion that he didn't love you, never once considering that he just wasn't a physically affectionate person.
He still felt some guilt clawing at his stomach though, like he shouldn't be thinking of you like this.
As if Naoya can read his mind, he softens his words a bit for his next point. "I'm not saying you can't care about them - though, to be clear, I don't. But maybe you do care for your girlfriend. You just don't love her. She's a companion for you. Like a pet. Something that makes you feel needed."
"It's not that," Light says, "I know I'm needed. And I'm needed for much greater things than taking care of her. We've been together for a long time. And... we just... go together. I can't just get rid of her. Plus she can be useful sometimes."
Naoya nods, his brows rising into a patronizing look. Light hates it. Despises the assumption that he's weak for not hating you. It's just the truth, even when you drive him crazy and annoy him to levels he didn't think possible, he didn't hate you. He didn't feel passionate enough about you to hate.
He wants to talk about something else though; to leave this subject behind in favor of something that would put Naoya in the hot seat and make him insecure too. It's not his proudest moment, but he swings at the lowest hanging fruit he can think of.
"So... what's with the makeup and the hair? Did your dad not give you enough attention or something?"
Naoya laughs again, the winged tips of his eyeliner crinkling in amusement. "No. I'm daddy's favorite," he says, unaffected.
It stirs envy within Light, the way he could be so casual about being prodded at. He didn't get defensive at the implication or start stuttering and tripping over words. His jaw clenches as he tries to think of something else that could get to Naoya, but the older man beats him to it.
"You don't like it? Or are you jealous?"
He got him yet a-fucking-gain because Light freezes. He stares at Naoya, unsure of what to say.
"I'm not jealous. I was just curious. Most guys don't wear that stuff."
"I'm better than most guys," he says as if it's fact, "I could show you how to do it if you want."
"W-what? I can't- There's- I don't have any of that stuff."
"Your girlfriend doesn't have any makeup?" he asks, unconvinced, "It looks like she's wearing a lot in that picture."
"She does, but-"
"Then go get it, and I'll show you how. I can tell you want to. You may not like it, but you want to know."
And that was true. He was curious if anything else. That's what he tells himself as he rises to his feet and goes into your shared room. He sees you'd made the bed this morning before you left for work.
Your bedroom was visibly divided into two sectors. Light's was pristine. Clean without clutter, well-kept and functional. The made-up bed was the only part of yours that appeared that way. Pieces of your personality littered your nightstand. A pile of clothes he'd asked you to put away sat in the corner on the chair. And then in the farthest corner stood the vanity where you did your makeup.
He creeps over there as if you'd suddenly jump out from under the bed and scold him for even thinking about it. Looking down at the dark wood of the table, he finds that you're not very organized. A few different containers sit atop the surface, holding brushes and tubes of cream. You have a holder for your hair ties and combs. A rack for your perfume. Nowhere among these things though, does he find a black eye pencil.
Opening the drawers, he scans their contents. One is dedicated to eye shadow palettes, the next is filled with lipsticks and glosses. Finally the third has a thin, black stick tucked towards the back. He grabs it and returns to the living room where Naoya is still sitting on the couch.
Light makes his way over and sits on the adjacent cushion. He shoves the product into Naoya's palm, briefly getting a feel of how smooth the other man's hand is.
"Alright, sit back," Naoya says.
"What-" Light starts before his eyes widen.
Naoya climbs on top of him. He's straddling him. Everything in Light screams at him to push him off, shove him to the floor and rocket to his feet to kick him out of the apartment. His heart thunders in his chest, his breaths shaking before they can even leave his lungs.
He can feel the heat of the other man's body above his. This close, he can see his golden eyes in detail. They look like that of a fox's, cunning and sly.
His slender fingers curl over Light's shoulders as he adjusts. He huffs out a laugh, and Light can feel the heat of his breath fan over his face.
"Calm down. I just have to get close enough or else it'll come out crooked. This is the easiest position."
Light nods and clears his throat. He exhales slowly, allowing his awkwardness about the situation to leave him. It's fine. He's just messing with him. He'll probably leave right after this. It's just fun.
But if it's just fun, why do his eyes keep darting towards the door to see if the knob rattles with your arrival?
Naoya scoots a little closer, his pelvis pressing against Light's belly. The cap of the makeup tool pops off, and he tucks it into his pocket.
"You have nice eyes, Light. Deep brown. Pretty," Naoya mutters as his fingers come up to tilt his head back against the couch.
A loud pop of thunder echoes through the sky outside. Following it is the soft pittering of rain against the balcony. Light swallows hard. He feels an involuntary rush of heat creeping up his neck. He hopes it's not visible, but he knows his wishes haven't been granted when Naoya chuckles.
"Blushing from just that? Does she give you any attention?"
And that's the bad part. You do give him attention. Tons of it. So much he feels like he's drowning most days. You adore calling him pretty boy, to which he scowls every time and tells you to quit it. You love running your fingers through his hair and complimenting the smooth texture before he swats your limb away and rolls the eyes Naoya just praised. He wasn't pushing him away though.
The pad of his thumb sweeps over Light's cheek, assessing the space it'd be working with.
"Close your eyes," he directs, his voice the softest it's been since they met in the alley.
So he does. The rich chocolate brown becomes obscured by his delicate lids. He shudders suddenly, realizing he was in an extremely vulnerable position. He'd let this man lure him straight into a trap. If Naoya did have any ill intent, he could certainly act on it now.
But he doesn't. All that happens is the tender stroke of the pen along the edge of his eye. Naoya doesn't say anything while he works. Repeated brushes of the tip ghost along his lashes. He feels the wetness dragging up into a point in the outer corner. The other eye gets the same treatment, the process done for the second time on that lid.
"Open," the man above him purrs.
His lashes flutter up as his eyes come back into view. He's met with a wild grin across Naoya's face. His heart feels like it's stalling in his chest, like it's losing its rhythm, unable to beat right under the pressure of his gaze.
"Wow," he croons, dragging the back of his finger over Light's cheek, "You look good. Almost as good as me."
This time, the heat stirs in a different part of Light's body. He tries to shut it down immediately. Think of something else.
"Let me see how I look," he says. If he saw how goofy he looked, surely any feelings of desire would dissolve.
"You should've brought a mirror," Naoya taunts as he gets up. He grabs a decorative one off the shelf and brings it back to the sofa. Instead of taking the opportunity to return to his previous spot next to Light, he returns to his lap. He holds the mirror up in front of his own face, letting Light look at his own face staring back.
He blinks a few times, watching as his lashes flutter and accentuate the deep lines Naoya had drawn. They stretch down to his inner corners up in the direction of his temples. The urge to reject what he's seeing gnaws at him, but he knows he likes it. He can't deny it.
"So what do you think?" Naoya asks and puts the mirror behind him on the table.
"It's not bad. Better than I thought it'd look." He figures it's better to give a half-truth rather than a complete lie. Less ammunition for Naoya to tease him with.
"You shouldn't have doubted my talents," he teases, "Let me do the bottoms now."
Without leaving room for argument, he guides Light's head back to where it had been before.
"Keep your eyes open this time."
Just as before, he obeys Naoya's command. He looks at the ceiling. He didn't think he'd be able to quell the feeling between his legs if he looked into those gilded eyes. The way his pupils dart away, as if running from Naoya's own, makes his thought process obvious.
"You have such good features," he praises in a murmur, "Cute nose, defined cheeks, pouty lips. Pretty."
And with those soft words he feels himself start to fill out his pants again. He squirms, trying to adjust in preparation for the worst case scenario. Fuck, this was humiliating. The only bright spot was that Ryuk had made himself scarce as soon as Naoya climbed on top of Light, so he wasn't here to mock from the sidelines. That would be the only thing that could make this worse.
Or so Light thought.
Because then the hand of Naoya's that isn't applying eyeliner comes up to cup his jaw. His thumb rubs across Light's plush bottom lip. Back and forth, tantalizingly slow.
He chokes back a whimper, but there's no way to hide the dilation of his pupils. Naoya catches it, of course. It's obvious by the way he leans in closer.
"Your lips feel just as soft as they look," he breathes before lowering his head further and replacing his digit with his lips.
Light moans into the kiss. His eyes shut again, and he melts beneath the gentle touch. Naoya takes the invitation to move in further, scooting even closer on Light's lap. His ass lands on the other man's thighs, the heat of their bodies' melding into one.
Flicking his tongue over the seam of Light's mouth, Naoya deepens the exchange. He tastes the sweetness of his saliva, and feels the smoothness of their tongues brushing against each other. Their lips move slowly, exploring each other more than anything else.
Naoya pulls back for a second to glance down at his face. "Your girlfriend... she can't understand. None of them can. They don't know what it's like to be one of us."
Light hangs on every word, and then leans up to go in for more. Naoya reciprocates, dropping the eyeliner onto the couch to leave streaks Light would have to deal with later. Kisses turn into full blown making out. Naoya still manages to get a few words out against his mouth.
"They don't understand how to please. What feels good," he mutters as a palm slides down to palm at Light's solid bulge, "I do though."
His hips buck into the touch on instinct, a gasp leaving his throat in tandem. Fuck, that felt so good. What was happening? He wasn't gay. Light was sure of that. He liked girls. Well maybe not liked, but he was attracted to them. He had you. He didn't think about guys like this.
Even with Naoya mentioning you, the thought of you doesn't cross Light's mind until he hears the sound of your voice. The feeling of Naoya's lips on his own had him too distracted to notice the cue he'd been previously waiting for.
"What the fuck?" you cut through the fog of lust with your sharp tone.
It almost doesn't feel real, like the nonsensical part of a dream that lets you know it's just that. He turns his head to look at you, to try and explain what you walked into. His lips leave Naoya's, but that doesn't deter him from planting a few kisses on Light's throat before looking over at you too.
What to say, what to say, what to say? Fuck. He couldn't use the cliche 'it's not what it looks like.' But what even was the truth? He was cheating on you, but... it didn't feel like it? He gawks at you for a moment before making the first attempt at justification.
"I- um... I swear, just let me explain to you-" he starts, but it's like you don't even hear him.
You stomp over to the couch, rage blazing in your eyes. "Is that MY fucking eyeliner?" you ask, absolutely incensed.
It was one thing to cheat on you, but to use YOUR makeup for the foreplay?? A whole other matter entirely.
"Yes," he says and moves Naoya back onto his part of the couch.
He quickly realizes that decision was a mistake though when the outline of his stiff cock against his pants becomes visible for everyone in the room. The evidence of his arousal just seems to upset you more. Tears start welling in your eyes, and Light's mind scrambles to defuse this situation before it gets out of hand.
It wasn't so much you being hurt that bothered him; rather he worried you might do something irrational to get back at him. This was the part of your relationship he didn't want to admit to Naoya. You knew most of his secrets. Being together since the two of you were eighteen, you saw so much of him. Not only could you expose what you saw right now, you had the potential to ruin his life.
He considers writing your name down on the piece of paper he keeps in his pocket, but it was far too risky. You'd know what he was doing in a second, and you had a piece on you too. You could scribble out Light Yagami just as quickly. His only hope would be that you'd be so tempted to write him out a long, horrible death, that it'd give him the advantage of time over you.
But instead of testing fate, he decides to deal with the problem head on.
"Baby," he starts, forcing out one of the pet names you always begged him to call you, "Just listen to me, ok? You have every right to be upset, but just don't do anything irrational. I can explain what happened."
You stay where you are, body visibly rigid with anger. But you don't lunge at him or storm off, so that's a good sign.
Before he can continue, Naoya scoffs from behind him, sounding more annoyed by the interruption than anything else. "Women. Creatures of pure emotion."
That does set you off. "Who the fuck even are you?"
Light reaches out for your hand and guides you to sit on the couch next to him before this can get any worse.
"That's Naoya," he begins. He then gives you a summary of the last hour and a half, leaving out a few choice parts.
Your face slowly loses emotion and retreats into a neutral expression. It both worries him and settles his nerves.
"So are you gay?" you ask at the end of his story, "Is that what you're trying to tell me? Is that why you won't touch me?"
"What?" he says defensively, "No! I'm not gay. I'm just... is that really all you took away from that?"
You shrug.
Naoya chimes in from behind again. "You can't blame him not wanting to touch you on being gay. That just seems like the reaction any sensible person would have."
"Why the fuck are you still here?" you snap at him, "Claire's is probably missing their best customer, so feel free to leave."
"Light told you why I'm here," he smirks. He leans forward and rests his chin on your boyfriend's shoulder, looking at his face. "I think I was right before. She is jealous of me."
Light's pretty sure you're about to lunge over him and tackle Naoya through the sliding glass door, out into the rain.
"Stop," he says, shooting the other man a look.
He then grabs your hand and squeezes it, a gesture that's supposed to be reassuring.
"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation. You didn't deserve it," he says, speaking in his usual calm tone of voice, "You aren't the problem. I'm the one who felt the need to do this. I just have so much going on, and I feel trapped. I don't know where to go, so I went for the first sign of escape I could find. And that was wrong, I know. I should've just talked to you about it."
It was all what you wanted to hear, and you wanted to believe it so badly. He knew just how to play you.
"You don't have to leave though. You're important to me. You can be a part of this too."
"This isn't a porno, Light. I'm not just gonna drop my panties because you said sorry."
Your external rejection was a display meant to hide your feelings within. You hated that he wanted to continue whatever this was with this guy, but you were at least happy you had the option to be included. You wanted to believe that this was simply him getting swept up in the thrill of something new, but that he'd always return to the comfort of familiarity with you.
He reaches out and cups your cheek, pulling a little to scoot you closer. You follow along and inch over to the middle cushion.
"See? Obedient like a pet," Naoya whispers, nipping at Light's earlobe and pecking the skin beneath.
You shoot him a glare, but it does no good. He doesn't even look your way.
Light doesn't respond to the animosity. He focuses on walking the thin line between you and Naoya, keeping this situation balanced and you from exploding and reigning hellfire upon his life.
"Good girl," he mumbles. Another name you'd asked for before. He'd have to dial it back a little in a moment, or it'd be obvious how thick he's laying it on. "Just try it for me. You'll feel much better with us then you would be sulking alone in the bedroom."
You pause, taking one last moment of hesitation. Your eyes rotate between them as you consider getting up and keeping your dignity. Lightning flashes outside and thunder follows. You know you shouldn't do this, but you can't rid the part of you that wants to please Light. That wants him to care for you like you care for him. It's so deeply rooted, that it's easier to just give in than try and weed it out.
You nod your head.
His hand pulls you all the way in, connecting your lips. He's not as passionate as he was before, but you didn't get a close enough look to know that. In a way, he feels like he's mimicking Naoya's techniques on you. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, returning the affection in full.
On Light's throat, Naoya attaches his mouth. That strikes a spark within the younger man again. His lips float up and down the column, gliding over the tender skin with precision. It works a whimper out of Light, and that's when Naoya's hand creeps around his body and slides up his thigh. His palm finds his erection, which hadn't fully dwindled yet.
"Still hard, Light? You must want me bad," he taunts before using his teeth to pull at the flesh on his neck.
He moans, and your eyes flash with jealousy. You stare into the golden spheres, hating this man you barely even knew.
Bringing your lips down, you begin to work on the other side of Light's throat. You lap at his pulse point before attaching your lips and sucking a little mark onto the pale expanse. In tandem, your hand slides down his chest to rest on his thigh teasingly.
As if switching positions with you, Naoya rises to Light's lips. He resumes the kiss that you had interrupted. And even with your hand getting closer down below, he keeps his own cupped over Light's cock, like he's his instead of yours.
Light whimpers from all the attention on him. He sinks back into the plush cushions, and both you and Naoya follow along. His eyes droop closed, allowing him to just feel.
Without the visuals, he can still tell the touches of Naoya and you apart. Your lips are smaller, your touches more delicate. Your fingers linger and tease, coaxing a reaction. Naoya goes for what he wants, and what he wants is Light to squirm and whine. He paws and grabs, rough squeezes and harsh bites between kisses. He makes his heart pound and his head spin, struggling to keep up.
Before he knows it, a familiar hand is creeping up his shirt while one he doesn't recognize so well slides into his pants. He gasps as Naoya's fingertips make direct contact with his dick. They swipe at the sensitive tip, rubbing the ridge and drifting across the slit. His hips writhe, pushing him further back into the couch.
You huff. It wasn't fair. Of course you wouldn't be able to make Light feel as good when you only had access to his upper body. It was an unfair disadvantage, but you decide to try your hardest anyway. Your nails lightly scrape circles around his nipples, teasing the buds but not touching them just yet
His eyes snap open and dart to you. You'd never tried that before. "Wh-what are you doing?" he asks.
"Nothing, baby. Just trying to make you feel good," you whisper.
You didn't understand how you touching his nipples earned him questioning you, but this guy he'd known for two hours could hold his balls in the palm of his hand without a shred of hesitation. You just decide to silence your annoyance by leaning in to kiss him again.
Naoya had left Light's lips in favor of pushing down the man's pants and watching his cock leak and drool. Shimmery beads of precum oozed out of him with each firm tug to his cock.
"So much coming out of you already... we should get to the good stuff so you don't cum too early," he mocks with one last squeeze to Light's shaft.
He then stands up and removes his own clothing. You follow suit and do the same for yourself, not wanting to be unmatched.
At first, Light lazily watches the both of you, taking in the sight of your breasts and Naoya's toned stomach. But once Naoya's removed his shirt and discarded it to the floor, Light's eyes lock on the other man.
Silver piercings shine through Naoya's nipples, and it's obvious Light's never seen anything like it before. He studies them as though he's discovering something for the first time. His jaw doesn't drop, but it might as well have from how wide his eyes are.
You drop the rest of your clothes without much effort, annoyed by the lack of attention from your boyfriend. Meanwhile, Naoya takes his time. He peels off his pants, building the seductive tension with a measured pace.
Crawling back onto the couch, you nuzzle Light's neck like a kitten, cooing in his ear. "Need you inside me, baby. Want you so bad."
He nods vaguely, your words clearly going in one ear and shooting right back out at you. His eyes are still on Naoya, who's now standing there stroking his own cock to full attention.
You scowl. Of course, Naoya's length is as pretty as the rest of him. It's a good size with a proud head that makes even you crave a taste. He's well-groomed, everything about him, enticing.
He smiles at your boyfriend, arrogance written all over his face. "You can fuck your little girlfriend, Light. And she can get me ready for you."
Without a second thought, Light nods, and suddenly, he's much more invested in you. He guides you to lay back on the couch and gets to his knees at the end of you. Naoya takes up the spot next to your head, leaning against the cushions for stability.
Disrobing the rest of the way, Light lines up his dick to your entrance, faster than he'd ever done when it was just the two of you. He slides the tip in, grunting at how tight you are. Your slick coats him inch by inch until he's bottomed out.
Up top, Naoya strokes your hair and looks down at you with sinister intent. His cock awaits your mouth inches away from your lips.
"Use any teeth, and I'll make sure you have none left before I'm done with you," he says lowly.
Your eyes harden into a glare, but when the reddened head bumps your lips, you accept it. The shaft slides over your tongue to the back. The man above you lets out a groan and tilts his head back.
"Mmmm... she's got a good mouth," Naoya hums, "You teach her that, or is she just naturally such a slut?"
Light had been focused on rabbiting his hips against your center, finding some relief from how worked up he'd gotten. The words bring him back to reality. He looks up at the other man, taking a second to process the question.
"Oh... she's always been good at that," he says.
And it was the truth. You gave good blowjobs, and Light's favorite part about them was that they made you feel connected to him or something. All he had to do was sit back, close his eyes, and let you make him cum, and you wouldn't bitch about the lack of intimacy between you two.
He curls his fingers into your thighs harder, lifting them a bit so he has leverage to fuck into you harder. Sounds of your elicit activities fill the room. Skin claps against skin while you gag on Naoya's cock. Hips pump against your face, a hand cupped on the back of your head to make sure you take it all. You can barely breathe. Your nails dig into the cushions, and your body squirms more in an attempt to find some reprieve.
All Naoya does is laugh. He grins wider as he watches you struggle beneath him. His hand extends to paw at your breast and casually tweak a nipple, bringing broken whimpers from you in between the garbled groans.
"Look at you," Naoya coos. He doesn't even know you, but it seems he can't help mocking. "This is what you're good for, huh? Light's been too soft on you. Hasn't shown you your place."
The lack of oxygen makes the words roll over you like water. You keep sucking the best you can as Naoya fucks your face and Light pounds into your cunt. They both thrust with one thing in mind: their own pleasure. You're nothing more than a conduit between them.
Soon, that changes. Naoya pulls his dick from your mouth. It drips and gleams with your saliva. You inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh sensation of air hitting your lungs. He steps back and goes down to stand behind Light. His hands land on your boyfriend's sides, rubbing up and down the lean expanse of his torso.
"Feeling good? Is she tight?" he whispers as he kisses up the other man's neck, nosing at his undyed hair.
"Y-yeah," Light stammers. He feels like he's gonna malfunction.
His hips rock without error, seemingly unable to stop ricocheting into the warm, wet embrace of your pussy. Naoya scrapes his nails down Light's stomach and scratches at his v-line. His back arches and a series of whimpers pours from his lips.
"I bet you're even tighter."
Light's previously drooping eyes widen, and before he knows it, Naoya's hand has slid to his ass, fingers already prodding at his entrance. He whimpers again, trying to think of a question or a protest. This couldn't be happening.
But then it does. Two digits slip inside. And fuck, it feels so right.
Back and forth, back and forth. He maintains the steady rhythm while fucking you. From your angle, you're not totally sure what he's doing, so you let your head fall back and bliss out.
"That's right," Naoya breathes, "Fuck yourself back on my fingers. Stretch yourself out for the real thing."
And Light continues to do just that. Naoya keeps it at two fingers, never trying out a third. After he believes the other man's had enough practice, he pulls his fingers out, relishing the needy mewls Light makes.
He slots his wet dick between his cheeks before slowly pushing it in. Light has to stop for a moment. Give himself some time to adjust to the feeling of being full. A shiver sweeps up his body, and he clutches the dough of your thighs harder.
Naoya soothes the sensation by rubbing a hand up and down his spine rhythmically. Once he's calmed down, the same hand slides into his soft locks and grips hard. He yanks him, forcing his back to arch, and fucks into him harder.
You can clearly see what's happening now, but even if you couldn't, the loud moan Light lets out would have clued you in. He whimpers, still moving inside you a bit, but the movement of his body is more controlled by the force Naoya's using to pummel into him.
His eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack. He'd never felt anything like this.
"What'd I tell you? I understand," Naoya grunts, "You're never gonna be able to go back when you've had a taste of this."
Light shakes his head, though he feels so hazy, he's not sure if the motion is clear. As he becomes more used to the feeling, he starts to be able to move against you a little more. You reach a hand down and rub at your clit. Light didn't seem to be too concerned with getting you there, so you would ensure you made it yourself.
The extra stimulation on your clit makes you tighten up on Light's cock. He whines and bites his lip as Naoya continues fucking him mercilessly.
"You gonna cum? Fill her up while I fill you," he grunts behind him.
Light nods, body growing shakier as his orgasm comes closer.
Only a few more desperate swirls on your bundle of nerves, and you reach your peak. You spasm around Light, writhing on the couch beneath him. He can't take it, the feeling of Naoya battering a sweet spot inside he didn't even know he had combined with your walls trying to milk him dry.
With a whimper, his cock starts to spurt inside you. It kicks with each rope of cum, his hips twitching in between the two bodies on either side of him. His head falls back to rest against Naoya's sweaty shoulder. The other man's breaths feel cool on his own slick skin.
Naoya can tell he's cumming from how his body moves and takes it as an invitation to pump his own load deep inside of Light. He thrusts all the way in and lets loose, moaning as his release floods the other man. He fucks it in a few times, noting every little twitch or sound Light makes.
When all is said and done, the room is quiet. The only sounds are the harsh breaths leaving each of your lungs, and the tail end of the storm raging outside.
Naoya's the first to pull out, easing his cock from Light's hole. He watches a bit of cum leak out afterward and grins at the sight.
Light goes next, slipping out of you and crumpling down onto the sofa.
You stay where you are for the moment, just taking in what happened.
The silence feels awkward for you and tense for Light but satisfying for Naoya.
You need some time. You can't think while they're both sitting right there. Standing up, you stretch your limbs a little. You intend to just leave, but then your eyes catch on the black eye pencil from earlier.
Your eyes narrow at Light when you snatch it from the couch.
"You and your boyfriend better buy me new eye liner," you pout before turning on your heel and making your way to the bedroom.
#light yagami x reader#light yagami x you#light yagami smut#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#naoya zenin smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#death note smut#death note x reader#jjk#death note#jujutsu kaisen#light yagami#naoya zenin#ch: naoya zenin 💌#ch: light yagami 💌
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the spare // chapter sixty-eight // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au
story summary:
While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?
*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*
words for this fic: 6.7k warnings for this chapter: p in v, fingering, dirty talk
a million boops to my beta reader banners by @cafekitsune
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
Chapter Sixty-Eight:
Cliveden’s gardens at night in the winter are beautiful. They’re vast and eerily empty, though that could just be the stillness of the night. Victorian lamp posts light the way and with the gently falling snow, kinda gives me Narnia vibes.
I wander around, careful to stick to the crunchy gravel paths and keep the main house in sight. This isn’t the first time I’ve had such an opportunity for escape. Yeah, I could Apparate anywhere, but why? Now that a plan will be in place, what’s the point? It’s exactly what I wanted.
Movement draws my eye and I catch Diana’s head above the shrubbery, heading in my direction. I’m not ready to go inside yet, so I sit on a nearby bench and wait for her to join me.
“Did they send you to make sure I was still here?” I ask, mostly teasing.
“Kyle did,” she admits as she sits next to me. She’s all bundled up in a stylish thick wool coat while I’m just fine in my Ilvermorny sweater and Thomus’ scarf. “But that’s alright, I’d much rather talk to you.”
Instantly my guard's up. “About what?”
She hesitates for a moment, but I give her my best encouraging expression, despite my raging nerves.
“Well, I wanted to ask how you feel about Thomus.”
I blink, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, um, well, I -”
“It’s just that Jake seems to think you genuinely care about him because of how adamant you are about his safety,” she says. “Now that I’ve met you and I’ve seen you two together, I think he’s right, but I wonder if it’s more than that.”
I think about my answer for a few moments, but respond with a question instead. “Is this because you two used to date?”
She immediately shakes her head and chuckles. “Definitely not. It didn’t last longer than a month or two and it was a long time ago.”
“Did-did he break up with you?” I ask with some hesitation.
“I dumped him actually,” she says. “He just… When we hung out or went on dates, his mind always seemed like it was elsewhere. The only time he seemed fully present and invested was when we…” she trails off.
“When what?” I prompt.
She gives me a sheepish expression. “Sorry, it might be a bit TMI.”
I shrug and shake my head. “Don’t worry. There’s no such thing as TMI for me. I need everything.” Even if that information guts me. I’d always rather know.
“When we were sleeping together,” she says all in one breath.
I don’t say anything, waiting to hear more. “Oh, is that it?”
Her eyebrows tilt up in sympathy. “I suppose if I were in your situation I wouldn’t want to hear about it.”
“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “I can see that. Do you know what he was so focused on?”
“Well, I know his mother had passed away a few months before and then there was… her .”
“Bellatrix,” I sigh knowingly.
“He visited her every couple weeks - no matter what. I didn’t even know he was still going after we started dating. When I confronted him, he insisted there was nothing physical going on between them, but I… had my doubts. He told me he stopped going after that, but I know he went back after it ended,” she explains. “Does he still see her often?”
“I… have no idea honestly.”
“Have you not asked?”
I shake my head. “Why would I?”
“Because you two are…” she sighs. “It’s complicated, I know.”
“There’s a massive power imbalance between us and I’m not going to let myself forget that, regardless of how I feel.”
“What about how he feels?” she asks gently.
“If anything he feels is real, then why am I still his prisoner?” I answer a little too quickly. “He doesn’t see me as his equal. I don’t want to belong to him like I’m some kind of possession. I want a partner willing to rely on me as I want to rely on them in return. How can anyone be devoted to an object?” I finish by inhaling sharply, having taken short breaths during my lament.
Her lips press together as she regards me with a cautious look. “The world has really changed since Harry Potter died,” she says. “No one is doing well - especially muggleborns. No one has been able to fly under the radar since they started implementing some kind of forced registry.” She pauses and then chuckles. “And you would not be able to go unnoticed.”
I sigh. “It’s the hair isn’t it?”
“Actually, no,” she says. “You’d be surprised how popular some of these articles about you have been.”
Now this, I’m taken aback. "Articles? As in more than one?"
"I'm afraid so. The best one is from the New York Ghost , but Witch Weekly's was pretty nice. Does someone have it out for you at The Daily Prophet , by any chance?"
"Probably Rita Skeeter," I grumble. I want to know what they've been saying about me. "Though I'm surprised I was interesting enough for one article, let alone multiple."
"I disagree," she says. "I think what you're doing is very brave. You haven't given up despite all these odds stacked against you. Honestly, I was really excited to meet you when I heard you were coming."
I blush, laughing awkwardly. "I, um, I'm sorry, I definitely had no idea you existed until tonight. Thank you for inviting me to that thing on New Years Eve, even though I can't go. It reminded me of what being normal was like."
"No problem!" she smiles. "I would've been glad to have you. You’re super cool and totally normal.” She winks at me and quietly laughs to herself. “But seriously, you should consider thinking that he might just want to keep you safe, where he can protect you.”
“But I can protect myself ,” I gently protest. “It’s because I’ve been under his ‘care’ that I’ve been vulnerable! He has to realize that.”
Her eyes soften with sympathy. “I think he does, because there was one weekend Jake told me about. He’d just met you and Thomus in Edinburgh and you’d been… assaulted while they’d all just been standing there, unknowing. He said he’d never seen Thomus be that violent before - violent without using magic that is.”
I stare at her eye-wided, enthralled with this story. This change in perspective.
“And then the next night, there’d been this party Thomus got drunk at and Jake said he could tell something was really bothering him. Apparently, he was really reluctant to talk about it, too.”
I scoff. “I hope he got over himself and opened up so you can share this information with me now.”
“Yeah, so he finally said he blamed himself for being an idiot and not paying better attention. Like, it really hit him that your safety was in his hands.”
I… don’t know what I’m allowed to feel. My heart wants to swoon and my mind wants to roll its eyes. Except, if he’s not as terrible as I thought, am I allowed to hope?
“I think I remember when he came home,” I admit. “We continued drinking and he asked me how I felt - which was very new for us at the time.”
Diana smiles ruefully. “Does he get points for trying, at least?”
“We’ll see,” I say. “I’m definitely nervous that it could all just be a… fling to him.”
Diana startles me by releasing a loud cackle.
“A fling?!” she bellows, struggling to catch her breath. “Oh honey, you’re delusional.”
“What? No!” I protest. “I’m being realistic.”
“Oh Lady Morgana,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes and standing. “Come on, let’s go inside before my fingers fall off.”
~*~
By the early hours of the morning, I’m utterly exhausted.
Kyle had changed his mind and decided to tell me his roughly outlined plan. It’s not terrible, but luckily the rough bits still have time to be hammered out. I should have plenty of notice before I have to leave, plenty of time for contingencies.
Thomus is out like a light, still snoring softly, when I return. I try to be as quiet as possible as I strip down to my undies and crawl into the massive four-poster bed with him.
It must not be massive enough, though, because just me softly rolling into position beneath the covers is enough to rouse a few sleepy words from him.
“Darling?” he rasps and I feel his hands reach for me in the dark.
���Hi,” I whisper. “Sorry I woke you.”
He hums and pulls himself closer, resting his head on my chest. “How did we get back to the cottage?” he says sleepily, curling himself against me.
“We didn’t,” I say, running a hand through his hair and the other over his shoulders. “We’re still at Cliveden.”
“Hm, I don’t remember getting here.”
His tone isn’t setting off any alarm bells. It’s low and gravelly, like he’s not entirely awake yet. He’s just mindlessly chatting and I just have to be casual.
“Well, you were very drunk,” I say. “You passed out playing Exploding Snap. Jake had to levitate you up here.”
His arm around my waist tightens, pulling me tighter against him. “You didn’t leave.”
I don’t say anything, panic instantly spiking my heart rate, and I hope he’s not awake enough to pay attention.
“You could have, but you didn’t,” he continues. “Not that I’d blame you if you did.”
I stay silent, trying to convince myself that his calm demeanor is because whatever he’s talking about, couldn’t be about the drama of the night. There's no way he was awake enough to hear what we said.
“No,” I murmur. “I didn’t.”
“What room did he put us in?” he murmurs.
I let out a sudden strained laugh. “You’d never guess.”
~*~
On New Year’s Eve, Thomus leaves again. He says it’s to finish last minute tasks for the Gala and whatnot and I feel… depressed… again. I’m mostly uninterested in eating - I ate a bologna and cheese sandwich for dinner. I’m not in the mood to read, listen to music or watch any movies, but I’ve had The Nanny on all day - just to make the house less quiet.
So I just go to bed at the blessed hour of 8pm.
I’ve barely been in bed for longer than fifteen minutes when the easily recognizable sound of the Floo roaring to life drifts up the stairs. I’ve sat up by the time Thomus finds me.
“In bed already?” he asks, surprised. “On New Year's Eve?”
I shrug, holding the blanket up to my naked chest. “It’s not the easiest holiday to spend by yourself.”
Thomus sits on the edge of the bed, swiftly leaning in to kiss my cheek. “And I don’t intend for you to, I agree completely.” He jumps up, taking long strides through the bathroom to my room, where I hear him opening the wardrobe. I sigh, scooting to the edge to throw my legs over it. It’s just my luck I was already in bed.
“A little warning might have been nice,” I say when he returns, arm cradling a black hoodie and black leggings.
He takes one look at me and the next moment he’s tossing my clothes on the bed and crowding into my space. His large hands cradle my head as he braces me for his lips on mine. He leans in and I have to prop my arms behind me so we don’t fall backward. Of course this causes the blanket to fall and his hand swoops down to cup and grope my chest, the attention causing my nipples to harden.
His kisses take my breath away and my thighs are quick to part for him. His hips slide right into the space provided, grinding his hard-on against me. My kisses slacken because all of my attention goes right to my throbbing clit and I desperately whimper.
His hips rock against me one more time before he pulls away, both of us breathless. His eyes trail down my body as he speaks. “We don’t have much time,” he says. “I will have to savor you later.”
When he steps completely away from me, I’m left cold, so I quickly slide on the oversized hoodie as he adjusts himself in his pants.
“Savor me?” I ask when I stand, stepping into the pants one leg at a time.
He chuckles, watching me wiggle the waistband up over my hips and stomach. “I thought it was a bit more romantic than fuck.”
Ping . There goes the tiniest fracture in my heart for him. I scramble for something clever or funny to say.
“I suppose it could’ve been worse,” I say, popping in a British accent for the last word. “You could’ve said shag .”
“Cute,” he smirks.
I follow him downstairs, sliding on my socks before I stop at the door for my sneakers and turn for the fireplace.
He clicks his tongue. “Not that way.”
I narrow my eyes and follow him out the door. He takes me to the spot beyond the fence and touches the tattoo before Apparating us to the Manor. The front gates are open and he swiftly takes hold of my tattoo again to get me over the barrier.
We walk down the entrance path, under gilded arches and golden fairy lights crossing overhead from the tall hedges. Holding my hand, he pulls me around the building along the back toward a door being held open by an elf.
“Miss,” Remmy says to me in a disinterested greeting and drops his voice to a whisper. “Master Thomus, Mistress expects you in fifteen minutes. Master isn’t even dressed -”
“Don’t worry, Remmy, I will be there,” Thomus reassures them as we pass. “Mums the word about Miss Alder, remember?”
“Yes, yes, Remmy remembers,” the elf dismisses.
Thomus leads me to his room, making sure to use hallways noticeably absent of chatty portraits. A familiar route because of the many times I'd avoided them myself. The moment we’re in his room, he heads for the bathroom, already stripping. There’s a black robed suit hanging from a hook on the door.
“Please tell me you're not gonna surprise me with a ball gown, are you?” I ask, hopping up onto the bed and toeing my shoes off.
“I value my neck, thanks,” he remarks, pulling on first his suit pants, then the black button up shirt. “Would you grab me a pair of cufflinks from the closet?”
“Does it matter which one?” I ask, knowing he's got a variety.
“No.”
By the time I emerge from the closet, elegant silver M stamped cufflinks in hand, he’s already dressed. He smiles at me as I pass him the tiny pieces of metal.
“All you have to do is wait for a few hours,” he says, his mood curiously… cheerful? “Go back to sleep if you'd like - just don't leave this room. Only Remmy knows you're here.”
“Why all the fuss?” I ask, my eyes greedily taking his suited form in. I suppress the desire to pull him close by his silk tie for a kiss. He looks too suave and sophisticated and… way out of my league.
“For the simple reason that I don’t want certain guests to know you’re here,” he explains, stepping into the bathroom once again. I hear him spritz a bottle of something.
“And why is that again?”
He glides out of the bathroom, passing me by with a quick peck to my cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I completely ignore the fact he didn’t answer my question, because I’m way too distracted by his suddenly fragrant cologne. I breathe in lung-fulls of cedar and pine, trying not to swoon in his wake as he pulls out his wand to light the fireplace.
Then he’s gone, the door audibly locking behind him.
~*~
Well, I definitely try to sleep. Except I wasn’t even tired when I climbed into bed the first time.
First I change into a purple wispy nightgown with a deep vee in the neck that stops at my thighs. Then I change out of it when the frills around the short sleeves become too itchy under the covers, opting instead for a simpler one with long sleeves and a hem that falls around my ankles.
All this, just to be uncomfortable in every position I try. Nevermind the fact my mind keeps doing laps of worrying, wondering who exactly Thomus doesn’t want to know I’m here. Rodolphus? Bellatrix? Is he dancing and flirting with her while her husband tracks me down this very moment?
Finally I give up and decide to grab a handful of Thomus’ old Daily Prophets and settle on the cushioned bench in the alcove of one of his windows. I sit sideways on it, my back against the wall with the door in my line of sight.
I’m about to cast a subtle illumination spell to help my poor eyesight in this dim lighting when movement out the window catches my eye. It’s the curtains billowing out of the open doors to the ball room - or the large drawing room as Narcissa calls it. Golden light spills from windows and the doorway as the guests' shadows and silhouettes move within. Some are moving swiftly as if dancing while some are mingling. Before I can think better of it, I’m pushing open the French window closest to me.
I hear boisterous laughter and the low hum of chatter, and best of all, music drifts up to me like a leaf in the breeze. It’s the exact kind of music I’d imagine would play at a ball like this, and I can’t help but picture myself down there, in some pretty dress twirling around the room with Thomus.
I sit there, content to listen to the string quartet and people watch. Some come outside for the cool air, others to have a private word alone with each other.
Hermione is relatively easy to spot. Her black gown is ridiculously puffy around the skirt, but synched skin-tight in the bodice, and even from here I can see the jewels glittering on her chest. I’m surprised to see Draco by her side, dressed head to toe in white. They linger by the door, always surrounded by ladies vying for his attention. I can’t help but notice how his hand slowly caresses her back, almost… lovingly from her waist up to her shoulders and nape when he thinks no one is watching.
Thankfully, I don’t see Bellatrix, but I also don’t see Thomus, either. An inconsequential fact I try not to linger on.
I don’t know how long I sit like that, but eventually Thomus returns, quietly stepping into the room with two empty champagne glasses and a bottle.
“I kinda feel like Cinderella wanting to go to the ball,” I say softly as he approaches. He looks politely puzzled and before he can ask, I explain, “It’s just a No-Maj fairytale.”
“Ah,” he hums. He takes hold of the forgotten newspapers on the other side of the bench and raises an eyebrow.
I feel a blush creep up my throat and try to keep my tone nonchalant. “I… maybe like to read your articles,” I say. “It’s crazy to think we both spent time at The Daily Prophet , but at different times so we never ran into each other.”
I feel like I’m rambling, but how could I not? He looks and smells far too dashing for me to think clearly.
“It is a bit ironic,” he says, replacing his papers where I’d gotten them from before returning. He takes up the rest of the bench, his back to the window, and places the glasses and bottle on the floor next to him.
“Do you think things might’ve been different if we’d met there instead?” I ask hesitantly, knowing all too well his opinions on ‘what if’s. “Before?”
Thomus sighs heavily and the air puffs out his cheeks. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a sideways look. “Honestly?”
I nod. “Yeah, always.”
“Hm, I think…” his mouth downturns as he speaks, his voice betraying his amusement. “I’d find you the most annoying person on the planet.”
A disbelieving laugh bursts out. “What?!”
He nods, completely solemn. “Oh yeah, always asking questions, always bothering me.”
“Oh no, I’d have to talk to you about our job ,” I say with dramatic sarcasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off my face. “Oh no, what a nightmare.”
Thomus grabs my ankle, lifting my foot so he can shift closer, until my calf rests on his opposite thigh. That hand slides from my ankle all the way up my leg, and I’m disappointed it’s not under my nightgown. “It would have been an absolute nightmare to have you prance into my office every bloody day,” he continues as his fingers meet the crease at my hip and wedge themselves in. Then they keep traveling and grip all the plentiful flesh there. “I’d never be able to get any work done because I’d constantly be thinking about bending you over my desk.”
My eyes run laps over the sharp lines of his face, trying to determine if he’s serious. “Is that so?”
Thomus’ eyes drop to my mouth, his free hand brings his thumb to brush my lower lip. “These would be the worst. With every meddlesome question you ask, I’d only be able to think about how they’d taste.”
I’m holding my breath - my heart thudding, my ears burning. I’m suddenly very unnecessarily conscious of how far my glasses have slipped down my nose, the cool breeze from the window across my chest, and how heavy I’m breathing over his thumb. And for some reason his accent is doing funny things to my insides right now, of all times.
His voice is low, husky, and oh, so hot. “I’d be thinking about how you’d sound when I touched you. And yes, I say when . I could only endure such torture for so long before I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
I snort, a disbelieving smile breaking out under his thumb. “You make me sound like some kind of irresistible vixen.” A chuckle rumbles out of his chest, but I keep going. “Well, I have good news for you - I wouldn’t object to any of that.”
“Is that so?” His hand caresses from my jaw to my neck.
I bite my lip to control my grin. “Well, yeah. Why do you think I’d be bothering you so much in the first place?”
Thomus lets out a breathy chuckle and sits back, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I can only stare, mesmerized by seeing genuine happiness on his face.
“So,” I say brightly. “Are you enjoying this party you put so much effort into preparing?”
His smile fades. “Not as much as I ought to, I suppose.”
“Oh, why not?” I ask, placing my hand over his one on my neck, feeling along the lines of his knuckles and fingers.
“The people down there…” he starts, eyes gazing out the window, “the only thing I’ve ever been to them is a source for gossip and scandal. And then the few who look past all that see the Malfoy name and nothing else.”
I let that process. “So what you’re saying is you’re a real catch?”
He bursts out laughing, the hand from my hip reaching up to scratch his chin. “Yeah, for those desperate to social climb.”
“So you’re a desperately eligible bachelor ?” I tease with a bit more drama to my tone. “How interesting. All the finest debutantes must be lining up down there, so what ever are you doing up here with me?”
“I’m a little old for debutantes.” He settles toward me into a more relaxing position, pulling his knee up and pressing his calf onto the bench under my thighs. With his face closer to mine now, his softly spoken words are loud and clear. “And besides, your company is vastly preferable over theirs.”
My face floods with heat and I crumble under his direct eye contact. My mouth suddenly feels as dry as the desert while I’m forced to figure out some kind of intelligent reply. “Quite shocking, really,” I say, my voice a whisper until I clear my throat, swallowing down some nerves. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the wizarding world’s most crankiest?”
He laughs again. “Are you talking about me or them?”
I’m about to answer, but a dull tapping sound coming from the party draws my attention. The guests are returning inside, tapping their wands against their champagne glasses.
“Ten minutes to midnight,” Thomus explains. “Lucius and Narcissa are about to make their toast.”
I slip my other hand around the one he has at my neck, both of mine cradling it near my chest as I glance at the clock on his mantle. “I guess that means you have to go?”
“Probably,” he admits slowly. “But I’m here.”
“Hold on, speaking of being here, isn’t Draco supposed to be in Switzerland?” I jut in, my eyes easily finding him and Hermione on the edge of the crowd.
“He is and Lucius is absolutely furious,” he sighs. “I can’t believe he’d be so foolish.”
“Well, it's obvious, right?” I ask, side-eying him, unsure if this is something I could even talk about. “He’s like, really into Hermione.”
A few moments tick by in silence as I stare at the crowd below. I glance at him to see his eyes had been on me the whole time, his expression pensive. When our eyes meet, he holds them for a moment before his gaze follows his hand as both of his gently hold mine instead. He pulls back my left sleeve, his fingers lightly tracing his name inked on my skin. Then he goes further, tracing the white puckered lines of the scar Bellatrix left me.
“What’re you thinking about?” I whisper.
His lips curl ruefully. “I’m thinking about how much of a hypocrite I am. I’ve called him foolish when here I am,” he says. “Unable to stay away.”
“From what?” I breathe, feeling stupid the moment I finish. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if he can feel my pulse where he holds my arm.
Thomus’ eyes hold on my arm, avoidant of my own. His voice is soft like he's telling me a secret. “I snuck you in tonight because I couldn’t bear not spending it with you.”
My eyebrows come together and I feel my head shake. “It’s just another year.”
“No,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine, adamant. “Moments like these are important, to spend with those who are important. That’s why they’re all gathered down there, isn’t it? To go into the New Year praising the Dark Lord’s reign, congratulating themselves for their accomplishments this year.” He looks back down at our hands, at his name. “I know I don’t have much to celebrate in that regard, but I do know that you’re important to me… and frankly I'm tired of pretending otherwise.”
I can only stare at him. Unable to think, unable to breathe . How could he say something like that?
When I finally have to draw breath after what feels like an eternity, I only get to say his name. “Thomus -”
The loud popping of fireworks bursts from below, along with some cheer that has me turning my gaze away only briefly. I turn back and Thomus’ mouth descends on mine.
The kiss is full and wonderful, but short. He pulls back inches away to search into my gaze, like he’s asking for permission, like he’s making sure what he just said was okay.
It was more than okay. It’s exactly what my heart wants to hear, even though my own stubborn insecurities push doubt into my mind.
I can’t say anything back. I can’t tell him how I feel.
But I can show him.
Our lips meet again in a rush. At least it feels like that to me, like we just can’t bare being apart anymore. I pour my heart and soul into this kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, his caress and grip every part of my body he can reach.
Soon I’m pushing him back so I can climb onto his lap. He’s pulled up my nightgown and the cool air feels amazing on my bare legs. I’ve got one foot on the floor and the other is bent at the knee, helping control my balance while I’m grinding on him.
He keeps pulling me to him, my weight rocking into him, and I brace a hand on the wall in the bay window as he falls further back, keeping me upright. His hands slip under my nightgown, roaming my thighs. I adjust my hips, feeling brave enough to put both hands on his chest to steady me. His suit pants can’t hide how hard he is. I try to use that as a reminder he’s genuinely into me. No matter how many times I’m in his lap, it’s still hard to believe he wants me here.
“How long till you have to go back?” I ask with controlled breaths.
He growls. “Just fuck me, baby.” His fingers painfully dig into my hips as he pulls me down, undulating his hips against me. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
There are things I want to blurt out, simple little words swelling in my chest that threaten to ruin everything.
But if I confess how I feel, it wouldn’t change anything. I’ll still be his prisoner. His possession.
I don’t wanna be an object. I long to be more .
My hands slide up his chest to meet at his neckline, shoving my fingers into the knot on his tie. I don’t bother pulling it all the way off before I go at his buttons, not stopping until his muscled chest and abdomen are revealed. My hips rock, rubbing my pussy over his cock straining to be let free.
Then I jump up, standing to shimmy my undies to the floor. Thomus sits up and shrugs off his suit jacket, pulling off his tie completely. I pause, waiting to return to my seat, but then he looks at me, his eyes raking me up and down.
“I want that off,” he says, referring to the only article of clothing I have left.
I struggle not to make a face, because I still have a hard time being completely naked in front of him. If we were in bed, that would be different. This just feels too exposed.
I grip the material around my hips and step toward him. “Take it off for me?” I ask.
Lust-filled eyes lock on mine and his hands go to my thighs, sliding them up my sides, taking the gown with them. I raise my arms to help him pull it off the rest of the way and a blast of cool air from the window makes goosebumps rise all over me. It sends a shiver through my body and my nipples harden.
When my arms are free, I step even closer and cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I kiss him softly, from one corner of his mouth to the other. While I distract his mouth with sweet kisses, one hand takes off my glasses and the other goes to his belt.
Of course, I can only use one brain cell at a time, so my mouth becomes distracted when I struggle with undoing his belt. I just pull my mouth away all together so I can get a visual on my hands. I glance up at Thomus’ face to find his heated gaze focused on mine.
“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the matter at hand. “Not very sexy, I know.”
“Oh, on the contrary,” he says and inhales sharply when my hands finally wrap around his swollen cock. My palms glide up and down gently before giving it a firm squeeze. My thumb circles his head, spreading a bead of pre-cum, and he leans forward, lips and tongue tracing a path from my neck to my breasts. One of his big hands cups my breast and when he immediately bites down on my nipple, I gasp and whimper. His tongue soothes away the pain, swirling around the stiff peak.
His other hand slides down my thigh, fingers feeling the dimples and divots until they hook behind my knee. My hands go to his shoulders for balance as he lifts my foot until it’s on the bench. His fingers quickly glide back up my thigh, this time underneath it to where it’s most sensitive and softest.
Thomus’ lips release my nipple and he pulls back enough to see my face. “I think you’re very sexy,” he murmurs. “From this pretty little pussy of yours” - his fingers glide through my folds, teasingly spreading the slipperiness from the center to my clit - “to those lips I just can’t seem to get enough of.”
His thumb presses in on my clit and my train of thought struggles to stay on track. “You’re pretty hot too,” I say breathily. “You’ve got these shoulders and thighs and hands that just -” My words are cut off by a moan when he slips two fingers inside me.
“That just what?” he teases, unmistakably smug.
It takes me a moment to answer because his thumb in combination with his fingers curling against my g-spot have my hips rocking and my brain turning to mush. My breaths come in short pants and my eyes are pinched closed, focused on riding the pleasurable waves his fingers are orchestrating.
“Concentrate, darling,” he presses. “Answer me.”
“Hands,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, “hands that do terrible… awful things to me.”
His fingers turn aggressive, pressing harder and rhythmic as he hums in approval. “That’s a good girl.”
His lips return to my nipple and that pushes me past the point of no return. A stream of curses and Thomus’ name tumble from my mouth. My toes curl and my body goes stiff as my orgasm washes over me. Thomus slows his long fingers, but still presses in hard on my g-spot as my pussy pulses around him.
When I can finally breathe again, I push at Thomus’ shoulders and he leans back, bringing his drenched digits up to his mouth. He groans at my taste and resituates himself on the bench, pushing his pants and briefs past his thighs. I’m still dazed from my orgasm when Thomus pulls me on top of him. He holds his cock at the base and guides me until he’s sliding home, deep inside my pussy.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes closing. This position never fails to put him as deep inside as possible, and if I really sit on his lap, he’s hitting my cervix. But that would be painful, so instead I move my hips around slowly, figuring out what angle works best and won’t kill my thighs. One particular move makes him groan and my eyes flutter open to find his locked intently on me, watching my body move. I definitely found the right one.
I start to go a little faster, a little harder. I have a hand on a window pane and the other grasping his shoulder to stabilize me. My thighs are burning, but the pain isn’t enough to make me stop. He’s inside me, and I love being connected like this. What I feel for him never feels more real than it does in moments like this. When I can’t be in denial.
With the increasing intensity of my hips, little whimpers start to tumble from my mouth alongside my panting. My bottom lip is nailed between my teeth and as I can feel my orgasm hurtling towards me, fuck is the only word coming out of my mouth.
Whenever he feels they could use more attention, his hands never fail to stray to my breasts. Supporting them as they bounce and sway, leaning forward to kiss and nibble at my nipples.
“So fucking beautiful,” I hear him grind out above the steady and erotic sound of our bodies joining.
My orgasm is close - so, so close. I’m starting to go crazed, desperate to cum again. Thomus is, too. I can hear it in his voice as he groans.
“Baby, I need you to cum on me.” His voice is strained like he’s in utter agony.
I let out a frustrated whimper as I pause to grind on his lap, hoping for an angle that hits my clit.
“I need - can you - ?” I gasp out.
I don’t even have to finish my sentence before his fingers wiggle in under my belly. My pussy’s so slippery, the pads of his fingers find the hood of my clit and press in, rubbing it in circles. My hips jerk, bouncing up and down on his cock, continuing even as my orgasm finally crashes over my body. I throw my head back as my back arches. His body stiffens below me as he cums, groaning out his pleasure.
“Beautiful darling, well done,” he pants with praise after we both have a chance to breathe, his voice shaking. “I lov-”
Thomus is abruptly cut off by loud banging on his door.
We both jump like we’ve been hit. There’s a moment where our eyes meet and I see panic cross his face just as it does on mine.
“Thomus!” a familiar man’s voice calls from beyond the door.
Thomus blinks, his expression hardening. He brings a finger up to his lips, warning me to be quiet. “Closet,” he whispers. “Go. Now.”
Nodding, my legs are like jelly as I push myself off of him. He’s hastily throwing on his suit as I bend to scoop up my nightgown and undies. I dash for the closet. It’s dark enough I can just hide behind the open door. Instead of the nightgown though, I opt for my pants and hoodie. Plus a pair of Thomus’ socks while I’m at it because mine are lost in the sheets somewhere.
While I’m desperately dressing, the man at the door calls for Thomus again. “Where have you been, Thomus? I’ve been sent to fetch your ungrateful ass.”
I squeeze behind the closet door to peek through the crack between the hinges just as Thomus strides to the door. He’s fully dressed and smoothing back his hair with his fingers. He pauses to take a deep breath before opening the door.
It’s Rodolphus.
“What do you want,” Thomus demands, sounding amazingly composed.
Rodolphus leans a hand on the doorframe. “You missed your brother’s toast,” he says, a mocking lilt to his tone. His hair is disheveled, the tie to his tux hangs loose around his neck. “How could you have missed this moment to show support for the Dark Lord? Your family? ”
“I don’t answer to you,” Thomus says. He keeps his back straight and his chin up.
Rodolphus puts a finger to his chin, tapping it. “And then I remembered a few other times you’ve mysteriously disappeared from similar events,” Rodolphus continues before abruptly shoving past Thomus into the room. Thomus tries grabbing his coat tails, but he somehow avoids him.
Rodolphus stops in the middle of the room, eyeing it while slowly turning back to Thomus. He inhales heavily through his nose and steps back towards the window with the bench. “A moment ago, I was convinced you were up here fucking my wife,” he says casually. He reaches for something on it and my anxiety explodes in my chest the moment I see him pick up my glasses. “Of course, I was only half-right. This room reeks of sex, but my wife has never hid.”
Rodolphus drops my glasses and stomps on them with his shoe, crushing my lenses under his sole. The glass crunches as he turns, backing up towards the closet. Thomus watches him with furious eyes. His hands are empty, but I know in the blink of an eye he’d have his wand.
“I’m surprised you can still get it up for her since her… accident ,” Rodolphus taunts. “She’s utterly repulsing if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Thomus bites.
He’s so close to the closet. My fingers feel for anything on the shelf behind me and immediately feel the unmistakable smooth metal of Thomus’ shoehorn, the very one I tried to pummel him with.
Maybe New Year’s Eve kisses are good luck.
I raise it over my head as he steps to the doorway.
“Your silence is very telling,” Rodolphus chuckles as he slowly steps into the closet. I hear his footsteps on the wood floor as he disappears on the other side of the door.
I’ve shoved my anxiety down enough so I don’t panic as he reappears, wand scanning the room.
Just as he turns to me, I transfigure the shoehorn into a dagger, and hold it up to his throat.
#tom hiddleston#writing#the auction#plus size reader#tom hiddleston x reader#harry potter fanfiction#voldemort wins au#slowburn#enemies to lovers#the spare#dramione#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x plus size ofc#plus size oc#hurt/comfort#deatheater!tomhiddleston#tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston angst#tom hiddleston fluff#tom hiddleston fan fiction#harry potter au#new years fic
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wag becks excerpt please?
I must say credit to @p-evvy for originally putting the thought of WAG!becks in my mind.... but YES so this is the fic I'm most actively working on rn simply because it's the one I started most recently (though it's been a couple of weeks now... I'm SLOW lately)
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“Why didn’t you come over and say hi?”
They’ve gone outside so that they can talk without having to shout, and the two of them are stood leaning against the wall a little ways away from the smoking area.
Becks shrugs, stares at the ground rather than looking at him. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me. Didn’t wanna be one of them annoying fans, bet you’re sick to death of them always bugging you.”
“Nah.” Gary huffs a laugh. “It’s part of the job, in’t it? And I love every part of the job.”
It’s a stock answer, the kind of thing he’d roll out for magazine interviews or girls he’s trying to let down easy. Becks deserves better than that. “Can’t say it wasn’t a relief to see a familiar face, though.”
“Familiar face,” Becks scoffs. He smirks. “You and I both know you were checkin’ out my arse before you realised it was me.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be cruel or malicious. And it’s Becks. Gary may not have seen him in nearly a decade but he’d like to think he’s still fundamentally the same person. And if the Becks he’d known as a kid was saying something like that to him, it’d almost definitely just be a bit of harmless teasing.
Gary decides to trust his gut and smirk back, sticks his hands in his pockets all casual-like. “That’s quite the accusation you’re making ‘bout England captain there, Becks.”
“David.”
“Wha’?”
“It’s David. Nobody’s called me Becks in – I dunno how long, really.”
Gary does the mental maths. He’s twenty-eight now (and Christ is he feeling every year of that), so if you count backwards it must be – “Must be eight or nine years now, right?”
Becks – David – gives him a tight smile. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”
There’s a breeze, and David shivers slightly. Stupid, really, wearing such thin clothes in the middle of winter. Gary’s in his United blazer – the whole team had gone out wearing them, though by this point in the evening most have ditched theirs for something more stylish. And he feels – it’s not that David is a girl, of course not, but – it would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it?
He shrugs the blazer off and holds it out in offering, all casual-like. David eyes it for a moment like he’s weighing up his options, but then another gust of wind hits and he takes it quickly, hangs it over his shoulders. He doesn’t put his arms through the sleeves, just leaves them crossed and held tight to his torso.
Fuck.
Maybe Gary should’ve thought this through a bit more carefully.
He gulps.
“So how’ve you been, anyway?” he asks. “I didn’t realise you were back in Manchester.”
“I’m not,” David says quickly. “Had to come up for work, thought I could – I dunno, check out some of the old haunts while I’m up here. Hadn’t realised how much I’ve missed it, ha.”
#beville#again: not enough happy beville in the world#and too many fics where gary didnt make it and becks did! equality NOW!!!!
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get 2 know me! bb note: just for fun, interview style :] (I also included one of my favorite scenes from one of my fav movies for the header pic.. hurts so good)
basics!
my name is bb (not actually but my real name shall remain a mystery... im so mysterious....), I reside in the u. s., and I am turning 23 next month! I'm in my final year of college and I'm completing a double degree, one is business & the other is design & production :p
kpop!
my journey w/ Kpop is a silly one bc I have been into it for abt 8 ish years now? it was whenever fire by bts had just dropped lol ..
main groups I listen to areeee: NCT (been a czennie for ages <3.. I remember when we didn't have a name yet) & loona! (ofc riize, txt, p1h) I listen to so so many others but these r like the only ones I make an active effort to keep up with.. I've been cultivating my playlist for years so if I were to write everyone I listened to we would b here a lifetime, but I listen to most groups especially in the 2nd-3rd gen range, 4th and 5th gen I still do it's just less likely I'll know a group, I also tend to heavily listen to gg music more often than bg
groups I've seen live: NCT Dream & Loona! I am also seeing Dream and ARTMS live again later this year aaaaaaaa :v
biases: mr. Jonathan Suh has been my ult for literal YEARSSSSSS you cannot pry me off this man I remember waiting 4 his debut... crazy, Sungchan (of course), Soobin (txt), Jiung (p1h), I also biased chuu for soooo long! that is My Girl
music! (non-kpop)
genuinely I listen to so much, I think kpop makes up like 10%?.. and there is absolutely no correlation between genres like at all 😭😭 artists I frequent these days r: mitski, fka twigs, dpr (all of them but mostly Live), daft punk, yeule, the marias, deftones, smashing pumpkins, lamp, pixies, the cure, Japanese breakfast, Magdalena bay, ichiko aoba, etc....
I grew up w/ extremely music loving parents so I have just acquired alot and I'm always adding 2 my collection.. when I was like 7 circa 2008 I had this little mp3 player and I remember my dad putting artists like deftones, my chemical romance, the cure, anthony green, smashing pumpkins, Paramore, etc. onto it and it was my favorite thing ever.. of course he put some Miley Cyrus on it too lol
hobbies + interests!
anything w/ art! I draw, sing, dance, write, play music, sew, etc.! I also really love cinema!! I enjoy fashion & making my own clothes.. my gma taught me to sew so it is near & dear 2 my heart. I play Nintendo! Ocarina of Time is my favorite game ever. I'm not much of a gamer but I have played really random ones like the entirety of silent hill as well as death stranding! Pls talk abt movies w/ me bc I am always down 🧎🏻♀️ I also tattoo occasionally, I have given myself a few..
favorites!
shows: derry girls, bob's burgers, fleabag movies: pan's labyrinth, fantastic mr. fox, scream songs: lovers rock - tv girl, I will - mitski, don't be so hard on your own beauty - yeule gg songs: stylish - loona, lp - red velvet, night rather than day - exid bg songs: life is still going on - nct dream, bills - enhypen, 0x1=lovesong - txt
#bb rambles#this is all over the place lmfao#the sole reason I made this is bc I am in a chit chatty mood...#alas I hate Reaching Out bc it is in fact: scary!
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This stylish piece ships from our store in the center of Amsterdam, The Netherlands. We offer both registered shipping and local pickup at our store, with any applicable shipping costs refunded in the case of local pickup.
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Design Era : Edwardian. Design & Historical Context : The Edwardian period, which began in 1901 with the death of Queen Victoria and the ascension of her son King Edward, was a time of opulence and extravagance. This was reflected in the jewelry of the time, which often featured expensive gems such as diamonds, emeralds, and rubies in intricate and ornate designs. The jewelry of the Edwardian period was characterized by its delicate and feminine aesthetic, with a focus on intricate details and intricate metalwork. Many of the pieces from this period were inspired by the Art Nouveau movement, which favored natural and organic forms, as well as the Rococo style, which was characterized by elaborate and ornate decorative elements. Overall, the Edwardian period was a time of great creativity and innovation in the world of jewelry, and many of the pieces produced during this time are still highly prized and collected today.. Key Materials : Diamond, Sapphire. Materials & Craftsmanship : Sapphire Sapphire is a mineral made from aluminum oxide that is known for its beautiful colors, including blue, pink, yellow, green, purple, and orange. The most popular variety of sapphire is blue sapphire, which has a medium to deep blue color and strong saturation. Blue sapphire is typically the most popular and most affordable of the three major precious gemstones (emerald, ruby, and sapphire) and is often used in a variety of different types of jewelry, including rings, earrings, pendants, and bracelets. Fancy sapphires, which are available in a variety of different colors, are often more rare and expensive than blue sapphires and are prized for their unique and beautiful colors. Sapphire is a very hard and durable gemstone, with a Mohs hardness of 9 out of 10, which makes it resistant to scratches and other types of damage. It is also believed to have various healing properties and is sometimes used in traditional medicine and meditation practices. Rose-cut diamond The rose cut is a type of diamond cut that was popular in the 1500s and remained common during the Georgian and Victorian eras. It is characterized by a flat bottom with a dome-shaped crown that rises to a single apex, giving the diamond a shape that resembles a rose bud. Rose cut diamonds can have anywhere from 3 to 24 facets, which are small, flat surfaces that are cut into the diamond to create a specific shape and enhance its sparkle and brilliance. Unlike modern diamond cuts, such as the round brilliant or princess cut, the rose cut has a lower crown and a less brilliant appearance. It is a more primitive diamond cut that was used before the development of more advanced cutting techniques. However, it is still a popular choice for collectors of antique jewelry and for those who appreciate the timeless beauty of vintage cuts. Rose cut diamonds are typically less expensive than diamonds with more modern cuts because they require less labor and material to produce. They are often used as accent stones in jewelry designs or as the main gemstone in vintage-style pieces. Despite their lower price, rose cut diamonds can still be beautiful and valuable, and they are a popular choice for those who appreciate the unique charm and character of antique jewelry. 18k 18k gold is a type of gold alloy that is commonly used in jewelry making. It is made up of 75% gold and 25% other metals, such as copper, silver, or palladium. The addition of other metals helps to increase the durability and strength of the gold, making it more suitable for use in jewelry. 18k gold is softer and more prone to scratching than higher karat golds, such as 22k or 24k, but it is still a popular choice for jewelry because of its warm, yellow color and good resistance to tarnishing. It is also less expensive than higher karat golds due to the smaller amount of gold used in the alloy. 18k gold is a popular choice for engagement rings, wedding bands, and other fine jewelry items.. Size : 17.53 NL / 55.1 FR / 7¼ US / O UK. Gender : female. Weight (in grams) : 3.2. Condition : New. Offers : no. https://www.binenbaum.com/product/diamond-sapphire-18k-cluster-ring-15164-8518/
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