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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang.

masterlist | please speak to me about LTC here!

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year.

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed.

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain.

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once.

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin.

That all changed the second you walked into the party.

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with.

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now.

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!”

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out.

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone.

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.”

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add.

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?”

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him.

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.”

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.”

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.”

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.”

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.”

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.”

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why.

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.”

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about.

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?”

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.”

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you.

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?”

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!”

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you.

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.”

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.”

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether.

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better.

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages.

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?”

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly.

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.”

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t.

“What would you say is your favourite?”

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.”

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.”

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry.

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.”

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.”

“So you decided to do it anyway?”

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.”

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.”

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face.

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these.

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story.

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about.

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces.

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken.

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN?

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more.

Harry: I know you’re reading this.

Harry: Your read receipts are on.

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message:

YN: Can I help you?

His reply comes in a few seconds later.

Harry: Are you free?

YN: Why?

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time.

YN: Why should I?

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will.

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress.

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it.

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much.

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did.

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there.

They always used to do that.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.”

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?”

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers.

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.”

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.”

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.”

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.”

He drops his head, “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?”

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.”

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.”

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours.

“I have too.”

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom.

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to.

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.”

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say.

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.”

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.”

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything.

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.”

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice.

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.”

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye.

“I’ve missed you so much, H.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so.

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.”

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.”

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin.

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips. immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible.

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is.

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.”

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.”

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen.

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together.

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.”

“Always, baby.”

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock.

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.”

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it.

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.”

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there.

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.”

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.”

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.”

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.”

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin.

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.”

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.”

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to.

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs.

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop.

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.”

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.”

“Is that where you want it?”

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.”

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom.

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again.

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.”

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions.

“Harry!”

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed.

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.”

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?”

“Don’t tease.”

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?”

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come.

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again.

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.”

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also.

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.”

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs.

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks.

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.”

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker.

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.”

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?”

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.”

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times.

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.”

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.”

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear.

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.”

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?”

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.”

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.”

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so.

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose.

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hi, love.”

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?”

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.”

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.”

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so.

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right.

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again.

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life.

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived.

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey.

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them.

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list.

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you.

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.”

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.”

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game.

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at.

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer.

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face.

“What was that for?”

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was.

“If you want me to be. I want to be.”

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.”

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.”

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.”

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 4 years ago

Text

My Tasha

Word count: 7334

Genre: Mostly angst but the ending is fluffy

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: A sort of suggestive scene? I think that's all (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: congrats on those 500’ love!!! they are well deserved for all of your amazing words 🥺 i was just thinking how cute it be for nat to take a liking to reader, so she tries all those “seductive” tricks the red room taught her, but r just reads it as a cocky fuckboy thing and rejects her? soft!nat appearing later to ask her out? 🥺

Summary: Natasha tries to seduce you at a party but you misunderstand, assuming she's just using you. Both of you mope before realizing what happened.

A/n: Finally I finished this! It was supposed to be 2000 words max but I got carried away and @teenwonder I blame you since you were the one who sent in this idea. I actually really like how this turned out, even if it differs from the prompt slightly so I hope you guys like it too because this probably took at least ten hours to write and I have lost way too much sleep over it. Enjoy!

Natasha looks in the mirror and lifts the corner of her mouth into a slight smile. She looks hot and she knows it, spending hours in front of the mirror perfecting the look. Her eyeshadow screams seduction and her lipstick highlights and colours the natural shape of her lips. Her lashes are curled to perfection and her makeup is applied with the technique she learned years ago that was guaranteed to make people stare. Her hair is straightened because it matches the look and also the last time she straightened it you had complimented her hair so she knows you like it.

Her dress is black, the colour that looks best on her, with a neckline that is dangerously low and the bottom riding dangerously high on her thigh. Her heels are her go to ones for anytime she wants to seduce anyone, they manage to work every time and have become a small symbol of luck for her and tonight she needs all the luck she can get for tonight’s party.

Usually people are easy to seduce, she just has to figure out the likes and dislikes of her target and play up to them. Tonight shouldn’t be much different except for the big added aspect of her actually caring. She’s never had to seduce someone she’s wanted to before so she knows it’s going to be harder than normal. Taking a deep breath she pushes the nerves away and smirks at her own reflection before going to meet everyone in the main room.

Your breath hitches when she walks in and you quickly look away so it doesn’t seem like you’ve been waiting for her arrival. She’s gorgeous, she always is, but tonight there’s something about her that’s different, like she put more effort than usual. You force yourself to stay calm and look away, pretending to still be interested in the conversation you had been having with Carol that you zoned out of the moment Natasha entered the room.

Carol’s looking at you strangely. “What?”

She gives a half laugh. “You think I didn’t notice you drooling over Natasha.”

“That obvious?” you ask and she nods. “Damn.”

“Damn is right, she’s smoking!” Carol whisper-yells, glancing over quickly and then back to you.

“Carol!” you exclaim aghast.

She laughs again. “Don’t worry I’m not trying to steal your girl, after all I have Valkyrie.”

“Yes and you constantly remind me of that.” you mumble which she ignores.

“I’m just saying that some people are already staring at her and are going to be all over her soon, you need to make your move quickly.” she finishes.

“I will.” you tell her, with no real intention of going to talk to her.

“Sure you will,” she says quietly at first before yelling in Natasha’s direction, “Hey Romanoff! Come here.”

Natasha is surprised and she hopes Carol isn’t calling her over because she noticed her staring. Logically she knows that Carol doesn’t want to date you and is dating Valkyrie but it looked far too much like flirting in her opinion. There were whispers and giggles and at one point you got all flustered and embarrassed. She doesn’t like how possessive she feels over you when she has no right to but somehow when it comes to you she can’t quite control herself.

Showing none of the inner thoughts that go through her head she weaves her way over to you. At first some of the team is staring because they got startled by Carol’s yell but a small glare gets them to look away again.

“Hey.” Carol greets when she walks over.

“Hey.” she says back with a smile and it’s not her fault if the smile is a little flirtier than normal and directed more towards where you’re standing. “What’s up?”

“I want to go find Valkyrie and see what’s taking so long for her to come back from the bar but didn’t want to leave Y/n all alone at a party and since you were alone too I thought it would be a great idea for you guys to spend the party together!” she explains quickly. “I’ll come back soon!”

With that she leaves and you and Natasha are left looking at each other awkwardly. She wants to say something to break the silence but all her earlier confidence is gone and she feels like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Which is half true, she is definitely not a schoolgirl but she’s never had feelings like this for anybody before.

“You don’t have to stay here.” you offer, feeling bad that she was forced to come here and babysit you. Carol is your best friend but sometimes you just can’t stand her. This is so uncomfortable and Natasha is looking at you weirdly and you just know that she’ll apologize and leave so she can spend the party with people who actually know how to have fun.

“I know but I want to.” she says and you can’t help looking away shyly and smiling. She smiles herself at your cuteness, now slightly more confident knowing that she can make you react like that.

---

She smirks as for the thousandth time that night you struggle to keep your gaze from dipping below her neck. The dress was a good choice and judging based on your lack of eye contact you appreciate it. She knows you find her attractive, it’s hard not to know that with you staring at her boobs every few seconds but as the night goes on she’s more and more hopefully that you want to date her. Your flushed cheeks and occasional stuttering give you away.

Some guy interrupts your conversation and she resists the urge to punch him. She doesn’t know what he’s here for and shouldn’t punch people for interrupting a conversation with a girl she really really likes (she doesn’t allow herself to consider love just yet).

“Hey beautiful.” he greets her, stepping into her space and ignoring you. Against her better judgment she does punch him and giggles as he staggers backwards muttering about bitches under his breath. Really the punch shouldn’t have affected him that much, it was light and not in an area that would cause serious injury, he was just weak.

“Holy fuck.” you whisper under your breath.

“That didn’t bother you, did it?” she rushes to confirm, not wanting to have upset you by resorting to violence. She wasn’t quite sure how to take your holy fuck, whether you meant it in a good way or not.

“It was so hot.” you breath and then immediately clamp a hand over your mouth once you’ve realized what you’ve said out loud.

You’re about to apologize but she speaks first. “Really?”

You don’t understand how she makes her voice sound so smooth and seductive but it makes your knees weak. You’re nervous but there’s no point in taking it back now and it does seem like she’s flirting with you so you continue.

“Yeah, what can I say I like strong women who don’t take shit from men.” you say, moving closer to her. You haven’t flirted very much before but judging based on how her eyes darken slightly you think it’s working.

She reaches out and runs her hand down the side of your face slowly, making you shiver. “Looks like we have the same type.”

She keeps her hand there for a second then leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away. You’re frustrated by how long it’s taking and try to take a small step towards her so you can kiss her. It doesn’t work well since you forgot you’re wearing heels and lose your balance, making her laugh, her breaths dancing over your lips. And then suddenly she’s not moving slowly anymore and her lips are on yours and it’s all you can think about. Your other senses are all dulled and you kiss her harder to prove that this is real.

After a few seconds she pulls back. “I didn’t want people to see,” she explains when she sees your pout, “hallway?”

You’re not sure if it’s even possible for you to do anything but nod and take her hand as she leads you out. Inside of taking you to the main hall she takes you to a side one that doesn’t get used often and only the avengers have access to. Glancing around again to make sure nobody notices she pulls you inside and immediately you’re kissing again.

She presses you against the wall and you grip her shoulders tightly, your nails dipping into her bare skin. When she pulls back again she notes in satisfaction that your lips are smeared with her lipstick and she applauds her choice of bright red. Inside of going back to your mouth she kisses along your jaw and your neck, the lipstick marking you. Happy with her work she moves back to your lips, humming happily at the feeling.

She likes it even more when she feels your mouth open to let her in, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. You let out a small whine and the noise reminds her of where you are.

“Come up to my room?” she asks, smirking. You’re about to say yes when you notice her smirk. It bugs you for some reason, it makes it seem like she’s winning some sort of prize. Breathing heavily you look more closely at her and notice her heels. It’s her seductive mission heels. And then you realize she often wears a black dress to seduce people as well. You feel like a complete idiot, she doesn’t want you for anything more than a quick fling. This was a calculated move on her part.

“No.” you tell her firmly, only able to hold back your tears due to sheer anger. You thought that you were friends, how dare she try to play with your feelings just because she knew she could. Taking advantage of her shock you push past her, running out of the hall and back into the party. You look like a disaster so as quickly as possibly to rush to the doors and leave, running to your room, thankful that everyone seems too invested in their own conversations to notice you going.

You keep running until you reach your room. It didn’t look like she was following you but you don’t want to take any chances. Flinging off your heels because they’re uncomfortable you launch yourself onto your bed and curl up, pulling the covers over your head and putting your face into a pillow. You’re probably getting her lipstick all over right now but you don’t care, you don’t have enough energy to care right now.

You berate yourself again for how stupid you are. You got so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t even consider that it didn’t mean the same to her as it did to you. It’s so obvious in hindsight. How after one kiss she wanted to sneak away so nobody saw, her glance back at the room before you entered the hall. She wasn’t looking for a relationship that much was clear. She invited you to her bedroom, not on a date.

You try to reason with yourself to make the pain go away but it doesn’t. You weren’t super close but you considered her a friend. Apparently she didn’t consider you one if she was willing to put your friendship aside for sex. You briefly consider that maybe she didn’t know about your feelings but you shake that thought off. She’s smart and reads people easily, she knew she just didn’t care.

You hate the tears that roll down your face. You can’t tell if they’re from sadness or anger and it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems to matter right now. Sobs wrack your body harder and you scream silently into your pillow. You hate this so much, you hate crying and you wish you could hate Natasha but you can’t. You hate yourself for letting yourself get hurt like this though.

---

Natasha watches you leave. She wants to run after you but the look on your face when you pushed by her stops her. You looked so disgusted that you had just made out with her and she can feel her heart breaking into a million pieces just thinking about it. She doesn't know what she did to get it. It’s obvious that you regretted kissing her but it hurts that you seem disgusted by it.

She allows herself a few moments to stand there and try to comprehend what just went on, a single tear dripping down her face. Swallowing hard she wipes it away and takes a breath to collect herself. She makes sure her dress is straight and runs her fingers through her hair so it doesn’t look too wild.

It doesn’t really matter what she looks like, she’s planning to slip out the back of the hall, the opposite way that you went, so it’s unlikely anyone will see her but she wants to be prepared on the off chance that the halls aren’t empty. Biting her lip to stay calm she walks out the end of the hall and slowly makes her way to her room.

She feels so stupid. She’s not even mad at you for feeling disgusted she’s mad at herself. She got so caught up in her own feeling that she never stopped to think about the fact that you don’t like her back. For a moment it seemed like you did but that was probably you being too nice to say no to her.

Her heels seem to mock her as she walks up the stairs with the way they clip clop. So much for lucky heels, she’ll never be able to use them again without remembering how badly she failed. She tugs on her dress from both the top and the bottom, trying to pull it longer in both directions. She felt so confident in it earlier in the mirror and especially when she caught you staring but now she just feels dirty and slutty.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” she mutters out loud to herself when she finally gets to her room. Looking in her mirror upon entry only makes things worse. She’s lucky that she didn’t see anyone in the halls because even after her attempts at cleaning up she looks like a mess. Her makeup is smudged all over and she can see the upset written plainly on her face.

Usually it’s easy to hide her emotions but usually she doesn’t feel such strong ones. You make her feel and she hates it. Only earlier today she loved that you made her feel. She loved the way her heart fluttered thinking about you and how she wasn’t always perfectly composed. You made her feel normal. But now she hates the way her heart betrays her, happy at even the thought of you.

Her only option right now is to forget and she thanks herself for always keeping a bottle of vodka in her room. A bad habit perhaps, but she rarely drinks from it and it is perfect for this situation. Drinking doesn’t help much, even after a while the hurt is still fresh in her mind, but it stops her from overthinking. When she eventually leaves the bottle and slips into bed it’s nobody’s business but hers if she cries herself to sleep.

---

You bury yourself deeper into your covers when you hear knocks at your door, hoping that whoever it is will go away soon.

“Y/n open up!” you hear Carol shout, still pounding on the door. “Unless Natasha’s with you, don’t think I didn’t notice you left the party earlier.”

Carol’s mention of Natasha makes a lump form in your throat and suddenly you feel the sudden urge to take a shower and wash all of her off you. You must have stayed silent for too long because Carol’s knocking stops and she speaks again.

“If you don’t say anything in five seconds I’m coming in.” she tells you.

You don’t know if you want her here or not. Carol is always good at making you cheer up but you feel embarrassed to tell anybody what happened.

“Four.”

Carol would understand though, she’s never been one to judge people for things and she was the one who helped push you towards Natasha, telling you she liked you back.

“Three.”

You realize that Natasha’s lipstick is still all over you and you’re still wearing the dress from last night. It’s too late to fix the clothes but you try to wipe the lipstick from your neck as quickly as possible (spoiler, it doesn’t go very well).

“Two.”

You’re still not sure if you want her to come in so you open your mouth to try to tell her to go away but the lump in your throat prevents you from speaking.

“One, I’m coming in now.” she says, opening the door. “Is that Natasha’s lipstick?”

It’s too much and you get overwhelmed, bursting into tears. Her grin of triumph from when she saw the lipstick quickly disappears and she rushes over to comfort you, wrapping you in a big hug.

“Do I have to kill her?” she asks, when you’ve calmed down a little bit. If you didn’t know Carol enough to know she’s actually a huge softy you would think she is dead serious.

“No,” you tell her, managing a weak smile at how quickly Carol comes to your defense.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “You have her lipstick all over you and you’re crying because of her. What did she do wrong?”

“It’s not her fault,” you protest. Natasha and Carol are friends and you don’t want them to stop being close because of you.

“It’s not her fault you’re crying?” Carol asks skeptically.

“I-um, she,” you stumble over your words because technically it is her fault you’re crying. “She didn’t mean to.” you finally settle on saying.

Carol doesn’t look any happier with the situation than she did before. “Please tell me what happened Y/n so I can go beat her up for you. Did she try to force herself on you or do anything you didn’t want?”

“No.” you say, shaking your head. Natasha may have only been looking for a one night stand or short fling but you can confidently say that she would never do that.

“Okay, then what did she do to make you so upset? It doesn’t look like she rejected you.” Carol is both stubborn and curious and you sigh knowing you’re not going to be able to get out of this conversation without telling her what happened.

“At first it was really nice, we were talking and then we were kissing. But then-” you pause and take a deep breath as Carol rubs a hand comfortingly on your back. “But then she asked if I wanted to go up to her room.” you pause again, trying not to cry for the second time this morning.

“What did you say?” Carol asks softly, knowing this is hard for you.

“I almost said yes, I was planning to say yes,” you tell her, “but then I looked down at her heels.”

“Her heels?”

“She was wearing the heels she always wears for missions where she has to seduce shady old men.” you explain. “And her dress seemed different than normal, like one she’d wear on a mission and she was smirking at me, like she got exactly what she wanted.”

“She treated you like a mission.” Carol states, a hard look in her eye. “That bitch.”

“Carol,” you warn, “you’re her friend too.”

“And as her friend I’m going to give her some friendly advice.” She emphasizes the word friendly giving the impression that it wasn’t going to be friendly at all.

“It will only make things worse.” you tell her. “I just want to forget about it.”

Carol keeps the hard look but softens a little, smiling at you. “Okay, whatever you want. We could spend the day watching movies and eating ice cream?”

“Okay.” you tell her. You’ve never been heartbroken before but you’ve seen movies and apparently this is what everyone does.

“I’ll go get the ice cream while you pick a movie.” she tells you, standing up. “I’ll even watch a disney one if you’d like.”

You give a halfhearted cheer, trying to convince Carol that you’re excited. She frowns as she leaves the room, that cheer was obviously fake. Any other time and you would be beyond happy that she was agreeing to watch Disney movies with you, you’ve been begging her to for almost a year. She can’t help but feel anger at Natasha and anger at herself. Anger at Natasha for playing with your feelings but anger at herself for pushing you to be with Natasha. She should have realized Natasha wouldn’t treat you right but she was so caught up in trying to pair you together that she didn’t see it.

---

Natasha wakes up as normal, feeling a headache forming already. Glancing towards her alarm clock she sits up in shock when she reads how late it is. She’s never in bed after noon. She groans when she realizes sitting up that quickly was not a good idea and makes her feel nauseous. She takes a few breaths, in and out, to calm herself and tries to remember why she drank so much. She was upset, she remembers that. She was upset because her plan didn’t work.

She feels a sharp pain in her heart when her mental blocks seem to go away and she remembers everything that happened, how the night had been going so perfectly and she had felt so happy only for it to all come crashing down when you ran away, disgusted that you kissed her.

“Stupid.” she tells herself, getting out of bed. She reminds herself of that as she goes about her normal morning routine, washing her face, brushing her teeth and getting dressed. She was so stupid to risk your friendship for something more, now it would be a miracle if you still wanted to be around her. Even if it hurt to pretend you hadn’t kissed she would go back to being friends with you in an instant if you still wanted her. She tries not to think about how big of an if that is.

When she is presentable she decides to head down the kitchen and grab some food. It’s been awhile since she last ate and there’s no use in trying to hide away and avoid her problems; she will either see you and have to confront them or you won’t be there. She knows that hiding away will only make things worse and appear weak, if she leaves her room and pretends everything is normal it will make her seem less hurt than she is.

“Hi Natasha.” Tony says in a weird voice when she enters the kitchen, waggling his eyebrows. She does her best not to show her obvious disappointment that almost everybody is here. The one upside is that you’re not.

“Hi Tony.” she says tiredly, walking over to grab a piece of bread and plopping it in the toaster.

“So Natasha,” he starts, oblivious to her unrelaxed mood, “how was last night?”

Natasha whips around lightning fast, staring at him. “What do you mean?”

He couldn’t possibly have heard, could he? She had hoped to talk to you before word got out about the rejection, to try to keep it on the down-low because the guys would never let her live it down. She assumed you wouldn’t tell anyone but you did leave the hall in the direction of the party so maybe you decided to stay.

“I mean with Y/n.” he says casually as Natasha fights to keep a straight face as her heart beats wildly in her chest. “Don’t think we didn’t notice how you both left early.”

Natasha lets out an almost unnoticeable sigh of relief. He didn’t know anything important.

“Well that may be the case but I can assure you nothing happened.” she tells him.

“Then where is she now?” Tony challenges.

“I don’t know, if you haven’t seen her she’s probably in her room.” Natasha responds smoothly. It’s just her luck that after being rejected by the girl of her dreams Tony thinks they got together.

“And where were you?”

Natasha gives him a deadpan stare. “My own room.”

He scoffs. “First of all you could be lying to us, I know you spies are good at that. But if you aren’t you need to get some balls and ask her out already.”

Natasha scowls. “A man’s balls are the weakest part of his body, I am good without them.”

Tony has enough self preservation to step back for a second. Natasha lets him think that her annoyance is solely over his sexist statement but really it wasn’t that bad and she’s just upset that she can’t have you so she really doesn’t want to be talking about asking you out.

“You should.” Clint speaks up.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Not you too.”

“See Clint agrees with me and I bet the others do too.” Tony says smugly. Natasha lets her eyes move slowly around the room and one but one they all look away when she catches their eye, showing her that while they are too nervous to outright say it, Tony is right and they do agree.

“I don’t care about that,” she says, “I am not and that’s the end of the story.”

“What not?” Tony persists. “You like her, you can’t deny that, so give me one good reason not to.”

“Because she wouldn’t want to and I respect that.” Natasha says calmly. Inside she feels her stomach twisting and she wants to break something. She may be good at hiding her emotions but this conversation is proving to be next to impossible.

Tony scoffs again. “There’s no way, that girl is so in love with you it’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is that you assume things about other people and can’t let this go.” Natasha tells him icily. “You don’t know what she’d say.”

“Then you don’t know either.” Tony counters.

“Then why did she say no when I asked her out last night?” Natasha snaps at him. There are gasps all around the room and to her mortification she is barely holding in the tears that spring to her eyes.

“What?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“I asked her out, she said no and that’s that.” Natasha explains, trying to keep her composure but failing when a tear falls down her cheek. “Excuse me.”

She hurries out of the room, no longer able to handle the talk of asking you out and the disbelieving stares. As she gets back to her room and lies in bed once more she notes in annoyance that she never got her toast. Not that she’s hungry anymore anyway. She doesn’t feel anything anymore except sadness and emptiness. She knew her feelings for you were strong but now that she knows for sure that you don’t want her they feel even stronger and it makes her realize just how much this meant to her and how much she lost.

---

“Hey.” Carol greets as she walks in the kitchen and heads straight for the freezer.

“Morning Carol.” Bruce says, looking shocked when he sees the amount of ice cream she’s holding. “Ice cream for breakfast?”

“It’s for Y/n.” Carol explains.

Tony’s expression turns dark. “What on earth does she need it for?”

“Girl problems, also known as none of your business.” Carols says, in an admittedly sassy voice.

Tony glares. “By girl problems do you mean what happened with Romanoff last night.”

He may tease Natasha but she was like family to him and he would not allow your feelings to be coddled while you stomped all over hers. He doesn’t care if you feel bad for rejecting her, you had flirted and let her on for too long and feeling bad was the least you deserve.

In an instant Carol is across the kitchen and inches from his face. “How do you know?”

“Hey, calm down.” Bruce says, stepping in when he notices Clint and Sam have both tensed up, presumably to defend Natasha’s honor. Even though he’s a man himself he doesn’t understand them sometimes, Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself and starting a fight between Tony and Carol, the two most stubborn on the team, would only be a headache for weeks to come.

“How do you know?” Carol asks Bruce, thankfully stepping back from Tony.

“She was here a few minutes ago and told us.”

Carol curses under her breath. “That bitch.”

“Hey!” Clint says loudly. “If anyone is a bitch here it’s Y/n.”

“Yes because it’s all Y/n’s fault.” Carol says sarcastically.

Sam decides he’s had enough of Carol. “Yes actually, it is.”

“Bullshit.”

The three of them go back and forth with Carol, mainly cursing and getting a little off topic.

It’s when Carol calls Tony an idiot that Bruce speaks up. “You weren’t here to see Natasha cry.”

“What?” Carol turned to face Bruce, shocked. He isn’t one for petty arguments so she believes what comes out of his mouth. But why would Natasha cry? It doesn’t make sense, she was the one who broke your heart, not the other way around. “Natasha never cries.”

“Well she just did.” Tony says but it’s not in a confrontational tone anymore. He’s not sure what Carol knows but it’s obvious she didn’t know fully what happened.

“Why?”

“It was partly my fault,” Tony admits, “I was teasing her about asking out Y/n and she kept saying no and eventually snapped and told us that she did last night but Y/n rejected her.”

Carol scrunches her brow in confusion. “That’s not what Y/n told me- OHHH.”

“What?” The voice comes simultaneously from all four men at once.

“They are both idiots.” Carol says, smiling and laughing for the first time since entering the kitchen. “They are both huge idiots that don’t know shit about feelings.”

“What?” Tony asks again, wanting to know what Carol’s thinking.

“Okay I’ll tell you but don’t interrupt.” Carol warns and looks at all of them to make sure they nod in agreement. Once she is satisfied she starts. “So this morning I found Y/n in tears and covered in Natasha’s lipstick. Apparently they had fun at the party last night and then snuck away to makeout. Y/n was upset because Natasha asked her up to her room instead of on a date and she noticed that Natasha was wearing her mission heels, do you know them?”

“The ones that she uses to seduce old men for Shield?” Sam asks just to make sure.

“Yep.” Carol confirms. “So anyways Y/n is upset because she thinks that she was just some sort of challenge to Natasha so she left her there…”

“...but Natasha was actually serious about her.” Clint finishes.

Tony laughs. “They really are idiots.”

“I am definitely telling this story at their wedding and to their future kids.” Sam says, also laughing.

“Well first they need to actually talk to each other about this.” Bruce points out, lowering the happy mood of the room. “Right now they’re both in their rooms miserable and feelings like the other doesn’t want them.”

“We should get Natasha to talk to Y/n,” Carol suggests, “because I know that Y/n won’t believe us unless Natasha is the one to tell her.”

“Okay I volunteer to talk to Natasha.” Tony suggests.

“No.” Carol tells him.

“Well you’re Y/n’s best friend so she won’t want to talk to you either right now.” he counters.

“Yes but you’re also a horrible option, I think Bruce would be best for this.”

Bruce looks around the room. “Me?”

“That does make sense,” Clint agrees with Carol, “out of all of us you’re the best at calming people down and she’d be most likely to believe you quicker.”

“But-”

“No buts Brucie, don’t you want to see them together?” Tony pleads.

“Yeah come on Brucie,” Sam mocks Tony, “do it for love.”

Bruce sighs as he watches Tony pout and Sam flutter his eyelashes ridiculously. “Fine.”

“Get straight to the point,” Clint advises, “because she will kick you out if you don’t.”

“Okay.”

Bruce leaves the kitchen to head to Natasha’s room. It took ages for him to be convinced to join the avengers and every day he can’t tell if he regrets his choice or loves his choice. Certainly no other job in the world would force him to go talk to his scary assassin coworker so she and his other coworker can get together. He really isn’t paid enough for this.

A knock startles Natasha. She didn’t think anyone would come after her because she assumed they would all be too scared when she’s in a bad mood.

“Who is it?” she calls out.

“Bruce.”

“Bruce,” she sighs, “I’m sorry but I need to be alone right now, I hope you of all people can understand that.”

“No.” he responds, surprising both her and himself with how determined his voice sounds.

“Bruce-” she starts but he interrupts.

“Hear me out first Natasha,” he begs, “please.”

She thinks about it for a moment before giving up and sighing, she’s not in the mood to spend time arguing. “Fine, but you have to stay outside the door.”

“If that’s what you want.” he agrees, pausing a second to figure out how he wants to word things. “I just came back from an interesting conversation with Carol in the kitchen.” he settles on saying.

“Oh?” She tries not to think about what that means. Carol is your best friend and after her scene in the kitchen this morning she doesn’t think there would be any other reason he would bring her up.

“She was getting ice cream for Y/n because apparently she’s upset.” he offers as a means of explanation.

“Oh.” she says again and it’s so quiet she doesn’t think he heard her. “You can tell Carol that I’ll apologize to Y/n tomorrow, I need to gain control of myself first.”

She never thought about how it would be from your end of things. She forced you into more than you wanted and tried to ask you out and she selfishly focused on her own feelings when you probably were upset that she kissed you. Or you thought you would lose her as a friend. She doesn't think she is capable of talking to you without breaking down right now but in a few days she’ll be fine and able to pretend nothing changed.

“That’s not what she was upset about,” Bruce tells her, “Carol says she was upset because she thought it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“What, why?” Natasha can’t help but let her interest be taken. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, what Bruce said could mean a lot of different things.

“I feel like I’m in middle school and there’s broken telephone being played between two crushes.” Bruce jokes.

“Bruce, tell me why.” Natasha demands. Her voice is soft but they both know if Bruce stalls any longer she’ll drop the sweet act.

“Well Carol said she said that it seemed like you were acting as if she was your mission to seduce and not like you actually wanted to be with her.” Bruce says, relaying the information.

“Crap.”

Bruce waits for Natasha to elaborate but she doesn’t say anything. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yes, thank you Bruce,” she says, “I need to go fix this, you can leave now.”

He can’t help but feel relieved as he speeds away down the hall. He is never going to do anything like that again, it was way too awkward. He still doesn’t understand how the others forced him to do this, damn his heart for being persuaded it was a good cause. The one upside is that talking to Natasha did seem to work and with any luck she’d be able to fix her mistakes with you. If she didn’t he did all this for nothing and may very well hulk out.

---

Natasha paces back and forth in her room. If Bruce was right (and she has no reason to believe he would lie) you didn’t run away because you didn’t like her, you ran away because you thought she didn’t like you. She winces when she thinks about it. Looking back she can see why you were mistaken and thought she didn’t have true feelings for you because she did treat you like a mark. She analyzed what hairstyle and dress you would like and wore her good luck heels. Even the way she talked and acted was calculated to be exactly what you’d like.

She’s stupid, so stupid and if she had just asked you out in a normal way instead of trying to seduce you she could be on a brunch date with you right now. It had never occurred to her to try it any other way, she was taught that seducing was the easiest way to get people to like you so why should it be different for a normal date? In hindsight using red room techniques to get a date is a horrible idea and she can’t believe she didn’t see it before. Maybe she hasn’t shaken off the red room ideals as much as she thought she had.

The thought scares her, her entire life upon leaving the red room has been dedicated to being a force for good, the opposite of everything the red room stood for so to realize that they still have their claws in deeper than she thought is terrifying. She takes a deep breath and tries to make it go away, which is mostly successful as the thought is reduced to the back of her mind. She can take her thoughts and analyze them later, which is another thing the red room taught her to do she notes, but right now she has to focus on the thing that’s most important, fixing her mistake.

As she walks through the halls to your room she runs through things she should say in her head but nothing sounds right. Perhaps it’s for the best though, that way you can tell she’s genuine and not performing another script. She pauses as she reaches your door, finding herself almost shaking with nerves. What if you don’t want her anymore or Bruce misunderstood or worst of all you still think she doesn’t care?

She almost turns around and goes back, unfamiliar with this type of fear but she knows that if she does all chances of fixing things and having a relationship with you will be reduced to zero. Taking a deep breath she turns the knob and pushes the door open.

You don’t look right away when you hear the door open, too lazy to care. “What took you so long, you were supposed to be back with the ice cream ages ago.”

“I-”

You spin around quickly. “You’re not Carol.”

“Nor do I have ice cream.” She tries to joke but it falls flat.

“Why are you here?” you ask and she winces. It’s blunt and straight to the point, your tone quiet but practically screaming at her to get out.

Since you got straight to the point she decides to do the same. “To ask you out.”

You must look even more shocked than you feel because she quickly jumps in to explain. “That’s what I was trying to do at the party last night, although I know you assumed that I didn’t mean it. I know you noticed the heels and I know I was smirking and it seemed like I was playing you but it really was genuine, I was just trying to do it the wrong way. I was always taught in the red room that to get people to like you romantically the best way to do that is to seduce them but obviously that is wrong and I didn’t realize until too late.”

There’s a lot of information to take in but your mind gets stuck on one question. “How do you know all that about how I felt?”

“Carol talked to Bruce who talked to me.” she says, looking slightly embarrassed at how elementary that sounds. “So?”

“So what?” You know she wants to know if you’ll go out with her for real and you really want to immediately say yes but you also want to hear her ask you properly.

She seems to understand. “Will you go on a date with me Y/n?”

You hesitate one moment before responding. It’s unnecessarily mean but you just spent a good portion of last night and this morning crying over her and besides, she looks absolutely adorable as she shifts her weight from side to side nervously. She looks exactly how you want her to look, no makeup and wearing sweatpants. It’s natural and genuine and everything you would have loved to see last night.

“Yes.”

“Oh thank god.” she laughs in relief, the pitch of it breathier than normal.

“I like it when you do that.” you tell her.

She furrows her brow, confused. “Do what?”

“When you laugh like that or wear old clothes, like you’re not trying to impress me.” you explain.

“So when I do the opposite of what I did last night?” she asks, laughing at herself for being so stupid. Of course you didn’t fall for all the acts, if you did she wouldn’t like you as much as she does. You make her feel different and that’s a good thing, she shouldn’t have to act around you.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong last night was hot,” you tell her, “but it’s not you. That’s agent Romanoff putting on whatever mask she needs to be for the night, this here is my Tasha.”

“Your Tasha, huh,” she teases, “possessive much?”

“Sorry.”

“No,” she tells you, “I like it. I don’t need to put a mask on around you because you’re you and I am your Tasha. But you’re also mine.”

“All yours.” you confirm and she visibly shivers. “Apparently I’m not the only possessive one.”

“Apparently.” she says looking at you in a way that makes heat rise to your cheeks.

“Since we wasted time last night maybe we could start with a movie date right now?” you suggest shyly, changing the topic.

“Well we do have time to make up for.” she agrees, sitting down on the bed beside you. “What movie?”

“Mulan.” you tell her pressing the remote to drop the tv down into your room. There were definitely benefits to living with Tony.

“A disney movie?” she asks skeptically.

“Have you seen it?” you ask already knowing the answer before she shakes her head. “Then don’t knock it, it’s a great movie.”

“If you say so.” she says, still slightly skeptical but much more open to it. Even if the movie is garbage she doesn’t think she’d mind watching it with you. She definitely doesn’t mind it when your head drops onto your shoulder and you fall asleep, tired from the emotional rollercoaster you just went on. And when the movie ends she doesn’t move, happy to have you there, even when hours later her shoulder is all tense and cramped. It scares her how much she feels for you already but it also feels freeing, she knows she is not just the product of the red room because their biggest rule is to not fall in love and she’s definitely going to break that soon, if she hasn’t already.

---

Taglist: @fayhar@xxxtwilightaxelxxx@acertainredhead@madamevirgo@megaqueenmaeve@cherryblossomskye@aaron-despair@chickenhavewisdom@emril-osvigne@nyankitty987@agathaharkness-simp@midnight-lestrange@usernames-are-difficult (couldn't tag)@thewidowsghost@nyx-aira@stephanieromanoff@Satxnsupreme@likefirenrain@wlwlovesreading@natashadeservedbetter@stop-drop-and-drumroll@peggycarter-steverogers@casperlikej@redswing@mochamoff@king-star@blackbat2020

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #marvel fanfiction #mine

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tibbinswrites · 3 years ago

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Day 3 - Rainbows

They were everywhere. Plastered in shop windows, strung up across the street, at every booth and stall. It seemed like everyone they passed was rainbow-coloured in some kind of way. Clothing, bags, hair, even beards. Flags waved proudly above and around them. People were smiling, laughing, kissing, holding hands. Like Dean. He clenched on so tightly to Cas’ hand that he almost felt the bones grind beneath skin. He expected Cas to say something, but he didn’t, so Dean held on.

It was his first pride. At forty-one years old he was at an event that was full of young people who’d already figured themselves out. Sam (with glitter on his face) looked down at him with a soft expression.

“We can go, if it’s too much.” he said quietly. Whatever was showing on Dean’s face was apparently so pathetic that Sam didn’t have the heart to mock him.

It was too much, and Dean wanted to go. He wanted the quiet of the bunker, of the Dean-cave, where he understood how everything worked. There, neither Sam, Cas or Jack cared that he was broken. They loved him regardless, and Cas let Dean love him too, in a way that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to.

Jack, immediately distracted by the colours and sounds, rushed off towards the nearest stall, chatting animatedly with the… guy, girl? Person, person behind it, who had a multicoloured mohawk and a yellow, white, purple and black striped shirt. They looked briefly taken-aback at Jack’s overly-forward approach (and probably thousand questions), but responded just as eagerly. Jack was beaming. Eileen (with her own glittered face) followed him after a moment and Sam turned to look with a soft smile before turning back to Dean, his ‘whatever Dean needs’ face replacing it.

“I’m fine.” Dean lied, hoping that his shirt was thick enough to hide the sweat he could feel building down his back and under his arms. “Besides, Jody’s brood will be here soon, it’ll be good to see them.”

Sam paused for a moment but nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“That’s what Cas is for.” Dean muttered.

Sam’s smile was fleeting but warm. Eileen called his name and Sam turned to see his fiancee wink at him, holding a free string of condoms. Sam flushed red and went to join her, pressing a kiss to her glittery cheek and signing something back which made her laugh.

Jack was darting from stall to stall, apparently interrogating everyone, but in such a disarming, truly curious way that nobody seemed to be taking any offence.

Cas remained by Dean, letting him crush his hand, standing stock-still barely inside the cordoned off entrance.

His mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t belong here. Everyone else looked so comfortable. There were couples everywhere, of all kinds, thruples too. There was even a string of six that all kept trading kisses and fond looks to each other. Even those on their own looked relaxed. Either waiting for friends or making new ones.

There were drag queens in the most flamboyant, ridiculous and amazing costumes. Huge feather boas, sequined everything and more glitter that Dean had ever owned (which was, admittedly, not much) on every exposed inch of skin.

“How about we go get a burger?” Cas said after a while, pointing at a food truck that looked a little quieter than most of the other, closer, places.

Realising that he’d spent a good long while lost in his own panic, not moving, he figured he should do something other than loiter by the entrance. This was Cas’ day too and he probably wanted to go enjoy himself with everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, so, his feet feeling like lead, they made their way over to the truck and got a burger and bottle of water each. There were a couple of park benches set up nearby, so they sat there, next to each other, and ate. Letting go of Cas’ hand was more difficult than he’d expected. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea of holding Cas’ hand in public, weeks more to get comfortable with the practice. Cas winced as the pressure was finally released. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Cas shook his hand out before digging into his burger. Between mouthfuls, he went on, “We all convinced you to come here because we thought it would be good for you to break down some of the stigmas you’ve held for years about why you can’t be like one of these people,” he gestured around them, “but I don’t think any of us ever thought to ask if you were ready. This is clearly difficult for you. I’m sorry we pressured you into it. If you want to just sit here and wait for Claire and everyone to come before heading back to the bunker for dinner, that’s perfectly okay. None of us are going to judge you. This is a big experience and we’ll take it at your pace.”

“I love you.” Dean said immediately. That was his gut reaction to a lot of things Cas said, and if Dean had learned anything over the past year, it was that Cas always appreciated hearing it. Even now Cas’ eyes crinkled warm, and the edge of his mouth curled up.

“I love you too.”

They finished their burgers in silence and Dean, bolstered a little by Cas’ reassurance, began to really look around at what few booths he could see from where they sat. One of them was for struggles with high school, another was selling flags, another was about the history of Pride. He was curious about that one, he admitted. He didn’t know much about this community he was supposedly a part of. The kind of community that was so vastly different from the one he’d been raised in. A community that John had scoffed at, disrespected, with only Dean to hear him most of the time. But shifting his gaze from the stalls to the people, he had to admit that it was less overwhelmingly rainbow than he’d first thought. There were people in biker jackets and boots, people his age looking similarly nervous, without an angel of humanity to hold their hand. A teenager who looked close to tears carefully glanced around before darting into the high school booth. There were people on their own, some with an air of defiance, others completely comfortable, still others with a cloud of sadness over their heads; here, but with no family who could, or would, join them.

It was an odd thing to take comfort in, the pain of others in this place of joy and self-love, but this more than anything reminded him that they were all just people. People with their own struggles and burdens. People came to Pride anyway, either in defiance of everything that tried to tell them to disappear, or to find comfort in those with similar stories. He wondered how many people out there had fathers who forced them away from their family to try and ‘fix’ them; he wondered how many were in their forties and only just now ready to admit that maybe they weren’t the person their father had wanted them to be, that that person actually went against the values they’d been taught, and the ones they’d figured out for themselves. He was so used to feeling alone in this aspect of his life that it hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be others. He saw a man who must have been in his eighties holding his partner’s hand and brandishing a sign with fervour. Never too old to come out, and he couldn’t help but smile. He nudged Cas and pointed. “Guess that applies to you too, huh? And I think I’m slow. It took you millennia.”

Cas smiled at the men and then shook his head. “It took me millennia to find you,” he said pointedly. “Gender and sexuality was not something I ever thought about before. They don’t mean much to me. And it’s fascinating to see a celebration that both says ‘these things don’t define us’ and ‘these things are important’. It’s all about being comfortable with yourself and fighting for the world to learn to be comfortable with you too.”

“Kind of the meaning of pride, I suppose.”

“Whoever said that was a sin was sorely mistaken.”

“I mean, Pride of the seven deadly was a huge asshole.”

“Hubris is not the same as pride. I’ve always thought that sin should be renamed.”

“Take it up with Chuck,” Dean said with a grin which Cas returned.

“Thankfully, he has no more say in it than I do.”

“Let’s go look in that history booth.” Dean said suddenly, already standing and holding his hand out for Cas to take. Research was always the best first step after all. And if it was right next to the stall selling pink, purple and blue pins, then that was just pure coincidence.

#suptober21 #day 3 #rainbows #pride #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

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kerasines · 3 years ago

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GIF Tutorial for Beginners

People keep asking me to teach them how to make gifs and I end up writing them long confusing messages, so I figured maybe it’s time to just write up an actual clean tutorial instead! This is supposed to be for total beginners! (Or people who want to switch to a new process that I’ve curated and streamlined over 8 years of making gifs.) I’ll try to keep this as barebones as possible, and won’t include all the advanced stuff I usually add. I hope it’s easy enough to follow, and I’ll include some links at the end for more stuff. I really do think it’s better to make a few simple gifs before doing more complicated stuff though, just to get used to it!

There will be three sections in this tutorial: #1 Basics - How to make a gif in PS at all #2 Sharpen - How to use sharpen/denoise filters in an easy way #3 Colouring - Just a few very basic adjustment layers

What you need:

A video (most common formats should work, although .mkv doesn’t always)

Photoshop (I use PS CC 2018 - this one because I'm morally opposed to Adobe’s subscription model - but versions aren’t super different from each other)

In the end, you should hopefully be able to make something like this:

This is gonna be so long. Sorry. You can make a gif with just part #1! The rest is just to make it look better.

#1 Basics

If any of the tools/functions aren’t where they should be for you, your best bet is googling it, you might need to change something in your preferences!

Make sure to save your PS file... often. PS has a tendency to crash, especially on laptops.

First, you need to get the video file. I recommend a shorter video, a few minutes long, if it’s longer you might want to cut it into shorter parts beforehand. This is just because PS’s video import tool sucks.

I chose the Butter MV, specifically Jungkook’s body roll at 1:24 because that’s what I want to look at for the duration of this tutorial. No further questions, thanks.

1. Open PS, go to File > Import > Video Frames to Layers

2. In the little pop-up, choose the part of the video that you want to gif. This will import every frame of the video into PS as a layer, so it has to be a relatively short part, or it’ll take ages (and gifs can’t be that big anyway). Now you can also see why it’s almost impossible to select the correct part if the video is too long.

The little controls at the bottom are for trimming, the one in the middle just for the preview. Make sure “Make Frame Animation” is selected! Then click OK.

3. Now you have your layers, and you have a frame animation! On the right are your layers, that’s where we’ll apply the colouring etc. later on. On the bottom, that’s your timeline or frame animation - that’s what the gif will be in the end! So if you delete frames, the layers will still be there, but they won’t show up in the gif. If you click on a frame, you can see the little eye checkmark on the layer that’s currently visible.

4. The timeline controls at the bottom that are relevant right now: set to “forever” so the gif will loop, you can play the animation with the play button, and you can delete the selected frame(s). The number on each frame is the speed of the gif, depending on the video I usually set it to 0.05 or 0.06 (photoshop lies to you when you play the animation, the only way to test this is to open the finished gif, preferably on tumblr or wherever you want to upload it).

5. As you can see, the animation starts a bit before the actual part that I want, so go ahead and delete all the frames in the animation that you don’t want! You can delete the corresponding layers too if you want, to make the PS file smaller, but it has no influence on the gif. (Hold Shift to select multiple frames as usual)

6. Next, we’re gonna crop the gif however we want! You can do this with the crop tool in the left sidebar, but with gifs like this where there’s a lot of moving parts, I sometimes just use the selection tool in the left sidebar, like so:

When you click on different frames, the selection stays, and you can check to make sure Jungkook doesn’t suddenly go out of frame if you crop it like that!

At this point, make sure the selection/crop isn’t smaller than you want the gif to be! For tumblr, what matters is the width (in pixels) of gifs. In the end, the width dimensions on tumblr should be 540px (1 gif per row), 268px (2 gifs per row), or 177/178px (3 gifs per row). Anything else will lead to very shitty resizing!

For this gif I’m going full sized, meaning 540px wide, so I made sure my selection isn’t smaller than that.

Then just go to Image > Crop, and it’s done!

7. Check to see if this is what you want, then resize: go to Image > Image Size to resize the picture. Make sure the little “link” between Width and Height is active (to keep the same aspect ratio), then set the width to 540px or whatever you chose. I always set the resample option to Bicubic.

Once that’s done, set the zoom to 100% right above the timeline, to see what it really looks like.

Almost done! A little note about the sizing: width is the important part for tumblr, but if you want to make a whole gif set (especially with more than 1 gif per row!!!) make sure to make all the gifs the same height, otherwise they won’t line up and tumblr will do whatever it wants.

I ended up making mine 540 x 400 and ended up with this:

8. Time to save the gif!! Go to File > Export > Save for Web (OR just use the shortcut Ctrl + Shift + Alt + S) (or whatever it is on Mac).

In the pop-up, you can change things about the gif, but most things should already be the way you want it (Image size, Looping option forever). Selective should be the default, just like the rest.

You can choose between Pattern and Diffusion, some gif makers swear on one or the other, I go back and forth.

On the bottom left, you can see the size of your gif. Keep an eye on that! I believe Tumblr allows every single gif to be up to 10mb, but I try to keep mine under 5mb or close to it, because I think tumblr adds compression if it gets closer to 10mb?? Anyway back in my day you couldn’t upload anything over 1mb. You’ll never know our struggles.

Then just save it, and that’s it, you made a gif! Well done!! Here’s the end result:

#2 Sharpen

There are countless ways out there to make gifs as smooth and clean as possible! Here I’ll show you the easiest way, but it also provides a good basis for other methods. The main difficulty is that you you need to sharpen the layers, but you don’t want to 100 layers one by one. So what we’re gonna do is convert the layers into a Smart Object, which functions as one layer!

1. Convert the frame animation timeline to a video timeline with the little button right underneath on the left:

It should look like this, and I’m sorry but I can’t explain this one because I’m not an expert here, but you can just ignore it:

2. Select all layers: Select > All Layers, or just manually.

Then right click on the layers > Convert to Smart Object. Now there’s only one layer left, but don’t worry, the frames are still there!

3. De-noise! It reduces noise, takes away some of that grain. More necessary in some videos. It also makes it less sharp, so I do this one first. Filter > Noise > Reduce Noise

My default settings are, Strength: 6, Preserve Details: 60, Reduce Color Noise: 45, Sharpen Details: 25, Remove JPEG Artifact: No. But you can play around, especially with the strength, and see how the little preview looks. Don’t apply too much of it! Or it will look weirdly smooth with no details in the end.

4. File > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen.

Settings: I usually have mine at Amount: 500, Reduce Noise: 5, and Radius at either 0.2 or 0.3, depending on the video. I’ll actually do 0.3 here, because I find it a bit blurry otherwise. If you sharpen more, it can quickly get grainy.

The difference isn’t huge, but here’s a little before and after denoise & sharpen:

5. Technically you can just save it as a gif (save for web) as shown above now, or you can convert it back to a frame animation, which I’d recommend especially if you use certain other sharpening methods (I’ll show you how to convert it back at the end of the colouring part), but for now, let’s go straight to the next part:

#3 Colouring

Now, you CAN do this part right after part #1, still in frame animation, without a smart object. I prefer it like this because sometimes PS acts weird, but if you want to skip the smart object stuff: select all frames, and add the adjustment layers at the very top, above all the other layers. (It only affects selected frames; and it only affects the layers under it.)

The adjustment layers should be above the layer tray, and these are the ones we’ll use today: Brightness/Contrast, Curves, Vibrance, Color Balance, Selective Color.

All of these are optional! You can do one, or all, or any combination. This is just the very most basic for me to get a gif to a point that I like. I’d recommend sticking to these for a start, but once you get the hang of it, definitely feel free to play around! It’s fun! Every gif maker has different preferences here, too, so there’s tutorials for everything.

1. Curves: Just click Auto, tbh. You can play around, but Auto works fine for me as a start, just to brighten or darken some parts as a base.

2. Brightness/Contrast: Usually videos are a bit dark, and contrast can help to make it seem sharper AND cut down on gif size, so I usually just up both of them a bit (but not too much! Or it’ll look cheap). Here I put them at B: 19, C: 23

3. Vibrance: I love very vibrant and colourful gifs, so I usually up the vibrance (and sometimes the saturation). This one is already very vibrant, so I only put +5, but if you try to colour, say, a very moody tv show, this can help wonders, especially if you want to work with the colours more later.

If you prefer less vibrant gifs, you can also lower the values here!

4. Color Balance: getting a bit more complicated now. Often, videos will have a slight yellow or green or blue tint, and this is where you can correct that. This video is a bit yellow, so I added +17 Blue. It was still too warm, so i added -11 Cyan as well. This neutralized the yellow tint, but I wanted some of the reddish tone back, so I added -5 Magenta. I usually do a similar process like that, depending on the tone.

Instead of Midtones, you can also do this for Shadows and Highlights individually.

5. Selective Color: now this is the most complicated, but also the most fun to play around in my opinion! Be careful here, if you do something too extreme it’ll look like shit or make the gif super grainy. I some rough goals in mind here: make the blue hair as blue as possible, make their skin tone a bit less pale, and enhance the black and white (which I always do).

You choose a colour at the top, and then add or subtract cyan/magenta/yellow/black values for that colour.

Skin tone: yellow and red. For this gif, I just added black to both, making them darker. Sometimes, if you change one or both those colours for a different part of the gif (for example, if I wanted to make the background less yellow, I’d subtract yellow from the yellows - but then I’d add yellow to the reds, to make the skin tone natural again.)

Blue hair: Just ramp up the cyan for the blues. Be careful with putting anything to +100, but here it’s already so bright that it should be fine. His roots are more purple, so I changed the magentas by adding cyan and black, and subtracting magenta and yellow. It’s not super clean, but fine for our purposes.

Black/white: depending on the gif, I often either add or subtract black to the whites. Adding makes the highlights less blinding, a bit darker, and flatter (I like to do that if one side of the face is bright white in the sunlight, for example). Subtracting creates contrast, makes it brighter, can wash it out. It can also lessen the gif size, and here it’s mostly just the tracksuit instead of important details, so I subtracted black. For the blacks, I almost always just add a bit of black, to make it more intense. Just like adding contrast, this can make the gif seem sharper and less grainy.

And done!

6. You could just save it as gif now, but as I said, I prefer to convert it back to frame animation timeline first, if only because I like to let it play through before I save it, and it works better for me there than in the video timeline.

Select all frames, then click the little menu on the top right of the video timeline > Convert Frames > Flatten Frames into Clips

7. When you scroll down to the bottom of the layers now, the old smart object + adjustment layers should be at the bottom, under all the new layers. Delete the old ones, we don’t need them anymore.

8. Convert the timeline back to frame animation, by clicking the little button at the bottom left of the video timeline:

9. Click on the menu top right of the timeline again > Make Frames from Layers

10. Now, just some potential cleaning left to do. Sometimes, there’s a doubled or empty frame or layer at the beginning or end, just delete those as necessary. The timing of the frames is probably off, too, just select all frames and set the delay time to 0.05 (or whatever).

Now your done! Save as gif, and you should get this:

I included some bonus links and tips after this but tumblr ate that whole part so I guess it’s going into a separate post. (Here is is)

Anyway, I tried to make this as easy to follow as possible for beginners, but feel free to send me an ask for clarification anytime. Hope this helps, now go make gifs and have fun!!

#photoshop #tutorial #gif tutorial #ps tutorial #btsgif #*#*tutorial #this took so much longer than i expected i'm not giffing for at least a week now

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bucksfucks · 4 years ago

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amorosa // steve rogers

chapter five: paris, france

chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

chapter four // chapter five

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

main masterlist

series masterlist

summary || steve takes you to paris to accompany him to a business gala where you meet an old friend and partner, discovering some secrets about your steven.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 2,023 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, daddy kink, undefined age gap, minor panic attack, angst — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

When Steve said that the private jet was learning first thing in the morning, he meant it. It was three in the morning, the sun not even close to being up as you rode through the empty and dimly lit New York streets with Steve's hand on your thigh.

He decided to drive, sometimes you thought he was superhuman, running off of only a few hours of sleep, yet wide awake and alert.

You envied him as your head lolled to the side as drowsiness washed over you. You yawned, big and loud as Steve chuckled.

"You can sleep on the plane, Princess. I know early mornings aren't your thing." He teased as you shot him a tired look, but smiled as you placed your hand over his.

When you opened your eyes next the car had stopped in the middle of the runway, a sleek private jet in front of you as your eyes went wide with excitement. You'd never gotten anywhere close to a private jet, the closest thing being bumped up to business class on accident.

"Is this it?" You asked, sitting up as Steve opened his door, "sure is, buttercup." He winks, coming around to open your door and help you up. The air was cold, the smell of frost faint in the air as Steve wraps his arm around you.

"I've never been on a private jet," you mumble, more so to yourself as Steve laughs in response. He takes your hand, leading you up the stairs of the jet until you're entering the lavish cabin.

"Then by all means, Princess, let me be the first to introduce you to them." He purrs from behind you, arms snaking around your waist as you take in the clean leather and polished surfaces.

"Steve this is…" you're at a loss for words, mouth agape as you spin around to plant your lips on his. You're standing on your toes, arms hastily thrown around his neck as Steve lets out a surprised grunt before catching his balance on the nearby wall.

"All for you." Steve finishes your sentence and you just about melt in his arms.

He chuckles when you explore the rest of the jet, taking the time to talk with his pilot, Léon, about the flight plan. Their voices are hushed as you enter the back of the plane, walking into the bathroom to take a moment for yourself.

It's a lot, overwhelmingly so and you start to feel your heart racing when you think of Steve.

You've loved before, but have you been in love? The realization causes your breathing to become shallower as you wonder if these past few months have been a whirlwind romance destined to burn out like the brightest flame?

Or perhaps this bubbling feeling deep in the pit of your stomach has been blossoming, nearly blooming into what so many people refer to as love?

You gasp when you hear soft knocking on the door, "are you all right, buttercup?" It's Steve, and the nickname causes butterflies to flock to your chest as you swallow your feelings.

"Just checking out the bathroom," you giggle and well, it wasn't a lie.

He smiles, taking your hand, "pick a seat, Princess, we take-off soon." Steve says before you're sliding into one of the comfortable, almost too comfortable seats and buckling into it. Steve's hand is in yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your knuckles as you feel the same swell in your chest.

Paris, France.

You'd never been, although you don't think you'll ever want to leave.

When you arrive it's late in the evening, the bustling city life is alive and well as the car drives from one end of the city to the other and you still can't believe your eyes as you pass by the lit up Eiffel Tower.

The hotel room is nothing but lavish, with tall windows, balconies, gold and champagne detailing and the largest bed you'd ever seen. The sheets are soft and clean and you want nothing more than to collapse into bed with Steve.

The bathroom has a claw-foot tub, a full shower, and four sinks along with a velvet chaise.

"How about a shower, Princess?" Steve asks, sitting on the bed as you fall back onto it. His voice is coarse and rough, no doubt tired from the many hours of travelling as your tired eyes meet him as you nod.

"Here," Steve stops you when your fingers hook under your shirt, "let me," he offers before slowly undressing you.

The bathroom is quiet, nothing but the sound of running water heard as Steve removes your clothing before shedding his. The moment is soft, gentle and caring as his touches are featherlight.

Once the water hits your tired body, you let out a sigh of relief. It's warm, your muscles relaxing under the stream as Steve steps behind you. The glass door fogs up, encasing you in your own world as Steve's hands knead over your tight shoulders.

"Just relax, Princess. Let Daddy take care of you tonight." He whispers in your ear, it's not sultry, but instead washes an overwhelming wave of relief over you as you let Steve take care of washing your body.

A fluffy towel is wrapped around your body before the cold air even has time to hit your body. By then the water has lulled you into a state where all you want is for your head to hit the bed, engulfed by the covers as Steve's steady heartbeat soothes you to sleep.

You aren't really aware of when you get into bed, all you know is Steve is telling you goodnight, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you're thrust into a state of comatose.

The sound of quiet voices is what wakes you, bright sunlight streaming through the nearly translucent curtains making you squint as you let out a groan. You aren't sure how long you've been asleep, but it's probably far too long.

You roll over, the alarm clock reading 11:37 and yup, you've definitely overslept.

Who cares, you're in fucking Paris.

"There's my girl," Steve beams, walking into the bedroom dressed in a casual, yet professional attire. Simple fitted slacks and a tight button down that's not done up all the way with the sleeves rolled up.

You smile as he presses his lips to yours.

"I've got some business to take care of this morning, okay? I shouldn't be more than a few hours." He explains as you give him a small pout. "I've ordered breakfast to the room, take your time gettin' ready. Tonight's the big gala so your dresses should be here soon, along with hair and makeup."

Your eyes nearly bug out at the sound of his words, hair and makeup? Multiple dresses?

"Don't act so surprised, buttercup. You know Daddy takes care of his girl," he smirks before standing up to his full height.

"Guess I'll just have to find the best pastries alone," you playfully retort, "I love croissants, remember that." Steve winks before he's giving you one last kiss and disappearing out into the Parisian streets.

Paris was breathtaking, beautiful, and everything you could've dreamed of.

Yet you couldn't help feel out of place as you walked through the streets alone, soft music playing through your headphones as you tried to scout out the best café in the city.

You felt stares on you as you tried to keep your head down, people stopping as they looked at you. Maybe you were in your own head, but you could've sworn you saw people take out their phones to… take pictures of you?

No, you had to be in your own head.

The hotel was in your sights as you bolted in its direction, a text message from Steve prompting you that everything would be arriving at the hotel soon and that he was on his way back to get ready.

Your heart hammered, thumping as you realized that you would be on Steve's arm as he introduces you as… his girlfriend.

"You okay, Princess? You've been quiet this entire ride." Steve asks, fingers lacing with yours as you look down at the gold satin dress you've chosen for the night. It compliments all your best aspects, the colour great on you as you nod your head.

"Just nervous." You mumble, it was the truth as you felt your stomach churning as you approached the banquet hall. It was gorgeous, lavish from the outside and you couldn't imagine how much nicer it would be on the inside.

"You've got nothin' to worry about. I won't leave your side, promise." Steve says softly, holding out his pinky for you to hook yours against it. You giggle, doing it as your worries vanish for a split second.

When you walk into the hall it's littered with people wearing their most expensive gowns, suits, and jewellery as Steve grabs to flutes of champagne.

"For the nerves," he jokes and you take it, the bubbly alcohol running down your throat distracting you for a second before Steve's hand is on your lower back, leading you through the people.

"Hey Punk!" The voice that shouts it is low and deep, hearty and boisterous as Steve whips around with the biggest grin on his face.

"You Jerk," Steve replies playfully, the two embracing in a hug as you take a good look at the other man.

He's slightly shorter than Steve, dark brown hair in a loose messy bun paired in an all-black suit. If that didn't make him look intimidating enough, he's got a black and gold prosthetic to match his aesthetic.

"So this the dame that's captured your heart?" The man smirks, casting his eyes on you as you can't help but feel your body flush.

"Sure is, this is James." He introduced you, your name squeaking past your lips as you shake his hand. James rolls his eyes at Steve, pressing a kiss to your hand as you admire the cool shade of blue his eyes are.

"Call me Bucky, Doll." He comments as Steve claps his hand over his shoulder, shaking his body as you're thrown into conversation with the two men.

It's a strange sight, seeing Steve being thrown around by whom you learned to be his childhood best friend turned business partner some years ago. Though you must admit that you like Bucky, he seems like a good influence on Steve.

"Here, I'll go grab up some more drinks," Steve offers, standing up to press a kiss to your cheek before striding off to the bar leaving you and Bucky alone.

"You know I gotta admit Doll, I'm real surprised that Steve's found someone." Bucky muses, fixing his collar before turning to you. Your expression is full of confusion as you silently press him to explain himself.

"After Peggy, I really didn't think the kid had it in him to love again, but here we are." He smiles, it's not malicious or venomous, it's a genuine smile but your heart has dropped into your stomach and all you can hear is the ringing in your ears.

"Peggy?" Is all you can manage to ask as your heart begins to hammer in your chest.

"Steve's ex-wife, he didn't tell you about her?" Bucky asks and suddenly he's got a remorseful, regretful look on his face as you shake your head, "no."

"Paris has the best champagne," Steve breaks the conversation as you look up to meet his eyes, trying to hide your hurt as you take the delicate flute between your fingers.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you say with a tight-lipped smile. You don't wait a response, quickly seeking out the nearest bathroom before you're holding yourself over the sink, trying to calm your breathing.

Bucky's words continue to replay in your mind, an ex-wife, an ex-wife that he chose to keep secret? You felt tears brimming your eyes and you wanted to scold yourself for thinking a man of his power had no dirty secrets.

How ironic to have your heart broken in the city of love.

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

#steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #sugar daddy!steve #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers one shots #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers series

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pridewhatpride · 3 years ago

Note

Do you have any gx rival shipping fanfic recs?

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Prepare to get linked to half the Manjoume/Judai tag on Ao3 (FF.net is impossible to navigate and most of the works there are... questionable?).

I'll try to make this organised in some way...

My absolute favourite on Ao3 is Sour Candy by Aamalysstuff. Chapters: 1 Word count: 23,522 Reasoning: It's just... nice. It captures an aspect of teen romance that I just love- the awkwardness of sharing a room with someone you think you could never get along with just to find yourself wishing to never be apart from said roommate. And they share candy and music- what more can you want?

Moving on, there's Colour Theory by Sophisticated_Adult. Chapters: 1 Word count: 1,850 Reasoning: Well, I am a sucker for soulmate AUs and honestly? This is genius. This is the instance in which the only colours you can see before touching your soulmate are their eye and hair colour. So imagine poor Judai only seeing in greyscale and thinking he doesn't have one at all. Also this author is just great in general, in my humble opinion.

Another soulmate AU! All the King's Men by Souless_Robot. Chapters: 1 Word count: 2,434 Reasoning: Do you like pain? Do you want to see Manjoume suffer? Well, I do. So take the sweet promise of soulmates and flip it on its head by making Haou Manjoume's soulmate, while Judai is happily paired up with Johan. Don't we all love unrequited GX Rivalshipping?

A 2020 special: A Man in Uniform by Draconicmaw. Chapters: 1 Word count: 3,011 Reasoning: Has quarantine made you starved for interaction? Do you love platonic Manjoume-Asuka? Great! This fic has Asuka acting as the best wingman to Manjoume, who is the world's most disastrous bisexual. Judai is the sweaty and buff UPS man.

There's also Jun's (questionable) guide on how to go out with your crush by SheepySeconds. Chapters: 1 Word count: 9,567 Summary: In which Juudai stays at Jun's stupid apartment, keeps on getting injured in increasingly stupid ways, looks at Jun with those stupidly pretty eyes, and is stupidly impossible not to ask out, because Jun never claimed to have good taste or anything.

The last one-shot! parallel. by kaibaboy. Chapters: 1 Word count: 13,754 Summary: judai has never really had a 'special summer memory', and he finds himself wanting nothing more than to be able to understand the feelings of joy and euphoria surrounding the warmest season. manjoume ends up getting roped into his scheme, as always, but he finds himself going on yet another journey with judai — except this time, it doesn't end with them going in circles. this time, they finally meet at the intersection, and summer becomes sweeter than it had ever been before.

On to multi-chapter fics. Now. I haven't finished some of these (and some are even just on my to read list but deserve to be mentioned regardless), so I'll give you a summary instead of my own silly commentary (I also sometimes just don't have much to say ;;;;).

Straying by 111 (Insert). Chapters: 27 Word count: 219,653 Summary: The next time Manjoume saw him, Judai had a head full of spirits and a desperation that almost showed through. (I am recommending this just because a friend said it's good, honestly. I have yet to start reading it...)

Crushed by 111 (Insert). Chapters: 19 Word count: 150,973 Summary: Manjoume Jun should be dead, but he's not. The guard who throws the cell door open shouts a title different than the name running through his head over and over again. "The Supreme King has requested your presence." (Again, if Haou is mentioned, you know you're in for some fun pain.)

Take me home where I belong by space_lace. Chapters: 32 Word count: 43,668 Summary: For as much as Jun knew his brothers hated him, he never would have thought that they would be so willing to kill him. (In case you didn't hate Chosaku and Shouji enough- also, Manjoume struggles to live working as a cashier.)

Soul Reversal by Sophisticated_Adult. Chapters: 12 (Ongoing) Word count: 22,458 Summary: The roleswap AU no one asked for, featuring clueless rich boy Judai and bitter Very Much Not Rich Manjoume. Behold as two idiots with equal social skills just kind of flail around at each other. (This is just a dream come true. I love this author lol.)

Bonus Round! I'm now throwing unfinished stuff and pwp at you. Also two fics I just want you to read.

Saving You Saves Me by Osidiano. Chapters: 15 (Unfinished) Word count: 67,169 Reasoning: You see, this one has Manjoume as an actual believer. The Society of Light was not just brainwashing. The Darkness in Judai is also... strong. There is a lot of violence, but it's just... worth reading. I'm devastated it was never finished. It's honestly so so interesting.

Pentadic by spellcastersjudgement. Chapters: 1 Word count: 7,458 Reasoning: ... Technically it's Misawa centric. It's Misawa watching porn, which just so happens to be a camshow by Judai and Manjoume. It's honestly very fun to read. Misawa is very horny. Manjoume is a victim.

Super Stud by Hambone. Chapters: 1 Word count: 3,708 Reasoning: Manjoume is a people pleaser and he just so happens to encounter a horny fan whose name is Reginald Van Howell III. But Ulri! That isn't GX Rivalshipping!!! Listen. It's funny as fuck and Manjoume has an undying crush on Judai in it. I will die defending this fic. It's not my fault Jun is a hoe.

haven't you people ever heard of using the goddamn door by chancellorxofxtrash. Chapters: 1 Word count: 2,187 Reasoning: When I say that the polyamorous relationship Edo-Manjoume-Judai is amazing, this is what I'm talking about. This fic. It's godly. Nobody can touch this fic and get away with it. I will personally come and murder you Edo style.

The last entry is some shit user pridewhatpride has written. Don't actually read it, it's bad. Anyways, the new work in the series is coming out soon, so... Yeah, no skip this one. Unless you want your eyes to bleed. Bad fic boys. Nothing to see here. The first work is called Playing Rivals, but like... really. Don't.

Please read my shitty drabbles.

#holy shit it's done #fic recs #yugioh #ygo #yugioh gx #ygo gx #manjoume jun #jun manjoume #chazz princeton #judai yuki #yuki judai #jaden yuki #gx rivalshipping #gx rivalshipping fic recs

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beni-draw-ikemen-please · 3 years ago

Text

Casablancas

Tags: 5+ Years AU, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Hair-pulling, Vanilla, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, He is a boob man, Not Beta Read, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Light Angst, Waiting, Unrequited Love

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Word Count: 6,443

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Jade Leech x Asami Oda (OC)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32076625/chapters/79462633

A/N: All my TWST works will reference my original long fic of my OC, Asami and Leona Kingscholar.

If you'd like to know how the relationships got established, you may read the long fic EYES NOSE LIPS. I was in desperate need for some Jade teasing and smut and this came to me and I JUST - I needed to write it. Thank you so much for @pseudofaux for the help with writing some of the imagery I had for this piece.

She is an amazing writer and writes for most Otome Fandoms (and anime) tastefully, skilfully and beautifully!

Chapter 1: I’ve missed you

It would be like this. The quiet week when Jade finally takes a few days off from work. It would be subtle, but it was a regular occurrence, a few days in the middle of the month.

A few months before he finished his final year in the magical university, Jade was given a shiny opportunity as a manager-in-training for a luxurious hospitality agency. And while Floyd opted for a more adventurous career, Jade quite liked the more domestic approach. He liked staying in one place, and doing what he knew he could do best. To serve .

Triton Hotel is strategically and most notably one of the most iconic landmarks of Santería — a neighbouring Savanna sharing a border with Afterglow. About six hours by plane, but only two hours to pass through a magic mirror.

He’ll clock out with everything in order, a set of phone numbers and potions at the ready if an event where he is desperately needed may occur. He'll make sure though, prior to this appointment that he won’t be needed. At least, until his awaited engagement was fulfilled.

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

As his gloved fingers aligned the last bit of stem on a vase of casablanca lilies, he straightened himself, brushed his jacket neatly in place as he eyed the clock. Any minute now—

A soft knock by his door. Precisely just as he predicted. His loft had been thoroughly cleaned, and he put on fresh flowers she liked. Got that room mist she picked out the last time they went out for tea. Jade Leech would breathe in, as if savouring the air through his lungs in this form. The form he felt fortunate to swell in.

To have this skin—

He reached for the brass handle, and as he opened the door, there she was. Raven hair tied neatly behind her. Her collared shirt buttoned just how he liked it. Her dark long skirt covered most of her beauty, beauty he was all too familiar with. Jade smiled at her, and gestured for her to come in. A gloved hand slowly finding themselves ghosting the small of her back. “Come in,” it tells her. Quietly, very gently hovering over, already anticipating the warmth of her supple—

“You’re late,” he chuckled, and instantly her cheeks would sport a mellow pink. And then, as he spoke and approached her, as his hands found her close and closer, the colour growing as intense, her apology now irrelevant, her face now too alluring, too inviting for him not to be this close. “Jade-san—

He wished she dropped the honorific. He felt as if she was calling someone else, someone familiar yet at the same time, still a stranger, even after all those years.

And though he was not present in her life, he hasn’t been for years— almost a decade— Jade felt that his shadow still clung around the scent of her hair.

Still clawed its way into her dreams when they lay together at night.

“I’ve missed you so—” she did, and he could feel it. The way she pulled him close, so close to her, he would always need to reach down even though Jade knew he could easily lift her in his arms. But she wasn’t fond of that, he knew better. It would remind her of him— her other, her long-lost love. The one who didn’t return her affections. The one who left.

Remembering him ticks something inside of Jade.

Hands would trail from her small shoulders, slowly removing the white gloves with his teeth. A sight he knew always excited her.

Thumbs slowly finding themselves by the small of her neck. He’d stop there, mismatched eyes of ochre, and lead admiring her features, gently—fiercely. Jade always felt the need to compete with a ferocity that’s been a struggle for her to forget. Even with him there.

She is the same Asami, yes she is— though, the years have certainly made her even more impeccable than the days she used to waltz across the floors of the Mostro Lounge. And her long hair now, framed her face better. Not that her shorter hair didn’t. Something about her keeping it tight and in place behind her excited the fins under his flesh, under this form.

Something about the way she kept herself from others; from the long sleeves she always wore, to the way her hosiery clung to her skin, something about it made the corners of Jade’s lips pull up to a satisfied smile. Thumbs now gently finding their way around her jaw, and now she’s looking up at him. Lips slightly parted, pale and luscious — just the way he likes her. Flushed and eager with anticipation. She’s always been stirred around him, and as the years went by, and as she learned of his affections towards her, she was able to let her guard down.

She was able to relax around him, and every now and then, she’d open the doors that led to her locked heart.

Heart that’s been locked away for him— thinking about him made the inside of Jade’s stomach coil and quiver.

A man he loathed but thanked at the same time. For he made her so beautiful, made her wait, made her patient — exactly how he loved her.

Devoted, hungry and yearning — and how, as time twirled her around and around, the precious seconds that she’s on her own on this marble polished twisted floor—of magic and wonderland, of things that will never be known to her— he was able to perform his best steps so far. Like Rothbart, he was patient to learn that dance, he was patient to learn the music, patient to learn when the prince would step away from crescendo, patient to finally have her hands slowly find his.

And he was sure not to ever let her escape, not ever.

His lips were gentle on her cheek, and Jade could hear her soft humming as he trailed gentle kisses up to the side of her head just above her eyelid. Gently, very gently on her forehead, then his hands would slowly and gingerly press themselves along her jawline, his lips—now hungry and bruising against her chin, and then her jaw.

Longer, sweeter, and heavier kisses followed his fingers as he carefully trudged across her skin like gravity couldn’t help but press himself towards her . And Jade would feel her hands on his forearm, desperately pulling him closer. She can be impatient, with so many years being too patient. For him, it wasn’t an issue. He is willing to give her what she wants, what she always wanted but never felt like she deserved.

His lips would finally land on hers, and she was very quick to open her mouth to him. Inviting him into this world only of lush and velvet— of sweetness and bitterness, the taste that’s uniquely her.

He would always know.

“Jade,” when she is desperate like this, she is quick to lose herself. Quick to drop the politeness she once so carefully honed like he did. They were quite similar in this aspect. But in the way Asami lost herself, Jade found her over and over again. His tongue now finding salvation, finding comfort in her mouth. It’s been weeks since they saw each other. His work didn’t allow many days for him to be away, certainly not even weekends, to their dismay. And she was unable to travel through mirrors without a companion bearing magic. Certainly not for more than a few minutes.

Her hands pulled him closer by the nape, her smaller figure trying her bestest to reach up to him, “I’m—

She is panting now, and it’s one of the things that Jade loved the most. Even more than his precious terrariums and the many trinkets he’s collected off the land throughout the years. She was like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow . The trinkets he’s collected, polished and admired were merely coins, coins that just sunk to the bottom of this grand marble fountain. And she was the centerpiece, and the rainbow her mere crown. Jade didn’t think it was possible to be this hungry, this crazy about a human woman.

Asami tugged at his collar, and with fingers almost as skilled and swift as Jade’s, his tie was immediately on the floor. His jacket was already coming off as she pushed him down his leather couch. A rich crimson, and with dusts of gold, much like her eyes. Eyes he’d admired for so long. Jade is relaxed under her stare, she looked like a beast from this angle. Like a panther, ready to devour. He quite liked that contrast as she was as quiet and as shy as he could be prowling. Her knees resting between his legs, letting him know she wanted to take charge, maybe today if he let her. And Jade would smile, hands tight around the small of her back, and gently smoothing themselves around her waist, and then resting firmly by her lower abdomen.

“Come,” he invited her, his voice a smooth Ambrosian—a drug to Asami.

Her hands rested around his shoulders as she leaned for another sweet kiss.

Jade loved the way she would seem brave as she leaned close, and how softly and easily she melted under his embrace. And her head would gently rest on his shoulder after kisses, she would always be embarrassed like this. And Jade's hands would only pull her closer, gloved hands like a virtuoso of her melody, gently lifting the hems of her shirt, untucking her blouse and slowly undoing the buttons from the bottom, and then she moans.. And she would watch him, cheeks flushed red as he unbuttons her shirt.

Her hands, still on his shoulders.

Jade would run his hands, from the bottom wire of her brassiere, to the fullness of her, cupping her breasts with his hands as she slowly reached for another kiss. Hands heavy around her, and then back to where he knows she loves it best. Orchestrating touches that earned him the sweetest of sounds. Her chest, her neck, and then again, her jaw. Followed by wet kisses, and eager nips. Hands finding themselves back down her breasts again, and Asami would always wonder when she’d black out during this slow languid way he fondled her. Her blouse would be on the floor in an instant. And his hands were already pulling by her ass, lips and tongue now lapping at her full softness.

Jade was sure she won’t always be conscious of it, but her hands would pull him closer by the nape, breathless and parched for him. Music clung to its pilgrims. And he is, as he so lovingly puts it, both the virtuoso and the instrument. Only for her songs, only for her pleasure.

“It felt like forever,” it was a gradual process, how she eased into his fins. And Jade almost marveled at how their little human lost her composure the closer they fell for each other. Closer and closer , slowly, she revealed herself to him like she had never before, even after all these years of knowing.

Jade knew how much of herself she devoted to Kingscholar, so, to see her come undone like this, for him specifically, was a sight to behold. A reward for all that waiting.

Though she wasn’t one to take charge, the way she pushed him down his leather sofa proved to be quite the surprise for Jade. The way her chest heaved let the silk organza she wore shimmer under the warm lights of his loft. Like mellow clouds illuminating heaven, and she was the brightest shine, the goddess that pulled that world of light and love together.

He felt blessed to be in this form. In this form, his hands could run from her shoulders, to the small of her back. Down to her ass, a place he didn’t think would be this delectable, this tempting. Her cheeks have the sweetest tint of apples, and he quite liked the way she looked whenever she was embarrassed. Parted lips that seemed to call out to him, in every language--- human and merfolk, how her shoulders pulled themselves together under his gaze, how she’d avert her eyes— his stare can be too much for her— she admits that one time.

But Jade was quite fond of that look on her face.

And as Asami watched his eyes, she almost forgot how his hands were already undoing the last button that let her blouse down. Curious, slender fingers now teasing the top part of her chest as he pulled her closer, and closer.

She knew Jade knew his way around her like this. Her bra would come undone in an instant, and sometimes she’d wonder how much experience he’s had before her. Before all of this.

He is careful as his mouth enveloped her like this. She trusted him to be careful, though Asami knew, after a certain point in time, that Jade needed more. He needed to let the ferocity hidden behind features like alabaster and pearl, behind polite speech, behind knifelike teeth out.

Out to ravage her.

And the old fear she knew around him slowly sublimated, slowly fed a newfound feeling for him.

Something akin to the hunger she once felt for someone else, though she tried her bestest not to compare.

Wet. It was warm and wet. And though at times Jade Leech looked like he was nothing but.

Though she knew his form under the sea, savage and cold— unforgiving—the Jade before him was warm, inviting, just as hungry as she was. Just as parched as she was.

And she would gasp, and wrap her arms around him. Her face hid by the crook of his neck. Jade’s hands now grabs her thighs, and slowly drags himself across her skin. Fingers now find himself on her inner thigh, and she would gasp again. The anticipation nearly unbearable for Asami, but she quite liked the thrill of waiting. She was primed to wait, and Jade was always set to reward her.

“I— I thought I’d,” she thought about it. Taking charge. But Jade is always quick to give her the illusion that she could. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t think she would be capable of it. It was more that he enjoyed the image of her unravelling. The sounds she makes as his fingers tease her wetness. Her eagerness was fully displayed by the lack of underwear. But Jade quite liked how she kept the garterbelt on, and how the stockings hugged her plump thighs. Jade didn’t think it would be possible to want a human woman like this. To hunger for a creature of land, like this.

“I didn’t think you were the naughty type,” he chuckled against her hair. And then, he inhales . A deep inhale, savouring the air around her like this, with this form . His two fingers now inside her wet cunt, Asami moans and Jade lets himself breathe more of her, strands of her raven hair getting caught between his teeth, her hands around him tighter.

“Only, if you’ll be the one to punish me,” she tries her best, sometimes she’ll play a part - but Asami is always soft, always so sweet. He admits playing pretend sometimes gets his fins excited, gets his mouth watering, his cock hard. But Jade loved her like this. Just as much as the timid and docile Asami he’s loved over the years.

His hands reached for her ponytail, a soft thug. She moans after a soft gasp. Jade’s mouth smothering her breasts with kisses and nips. His other hand pumping into her core softly, but deeply. Two, and then three. Asami’s hands are tight around him, holding herself together. He could be unforgiving, and she’s learned to brace herself when he is in a steady pace like this.

His hands on the knot that holds her hair together, now tighter. Pulling her hair tight, slowly wrapping her hair around his wrist. His mouth lapped at her nipple, taking her— as much as possible — in his mouth.

“I’ve missed you, Asami—” he murmurs onto her skin, followed by wet nips and then gently picks her up. She holds on to him, arms wrapping tight around his neck. She didn’t like it when he did this, but it stirs something inside Asami and she can only go quiet, she can only let him.

And he carries her, legs wrapping around his lithe figure, towards his bedroom. He is as quiet as she is. And he inhales the scent of her hair. Jade gently pushes the door close with his heel, and then very gently settles her there.

The finest artefact he’s ever acquired off land.

Chapter 2: Tamed by You

Trinkets and treasures, flora and fauna he’s collected off the land receive a special space in his loft. Carefully curated around him, like the work of the princess of the sea who collected treasures from sunken ships. How he admired her fortitude. How he wished to be surrounded by such beautiful, such wonderful things, too.

Surely, none of them could be bad?

But only the empress of his world deserves the prime space of his collection, the shelf of his bed.

Unfortunately, his empress seems displeased. Being carried, like the way he brought her to the bed… Jade knows she dislikes it. That it reminds her of someone else, someone with the same kind of fury, but rougher, harder.

The sight of her pouting worries Jade, but it amuses him just as much. He hovers over on his mattress , the weight of him like an aphrodisiac seeping into her skin, into her lungs, into her lust.

“I told you,” she whispers, cheeks flushed, and the corners of her eyes shining with almost tears. “I don’t like being carried,” and he knows this. He knows this well.

But couldn’t help doing it anyway.

He plants a chaste kiss on her cheek, and then her forehead, his hand smoothing her forehead under him. “Forgive me,” he hisses, whilst taking her hand and planting soft kisses around her knuckles and fingers. Jade never wants to truly disappoint or upset her in any way.

But if it will rile her up in the end, he has the tendency to try.

“What would you like?” Another kiss, to her wrist. Then to her elbow, while he waits for her to decide and answer. His eyes never leave hers. Asami hums, and she takes a minute, while watching him plant kisses all over her hands and wrist, and then she takes him by the hand.

Pulls him back up to her into a full embrace.

She is quiet for a bit as Jade holds her tight. Then, she is facing him again, her eyes misted with want, and lips parted — ready and very, very delectable, to Jade.

“I want you,” she whispers as she pulls him close, lips parting just for him, at least Jade hopes. Her mouth invites him in, making way for only him between those lips of hers. He loves them so dearly. But whenever she expresses it like this, Jade can’t help but wonder if it is really him that she is asking for. He would very much prefer that she call his name.

Sometimes, even in these heady moments of pleasure and satisfaction, Jade’s mind can’t help but go there — to Kingscholar’s image. The subtle ways he dragged her around, as if wielding lace entwined with barbed wire around her neck and she couldn’t quite tell the difference. His indifference towards her, and how she lapped every crumb of affection he hands out every now and then.

How she deserved so much more.

It was ridiculous, how easy it all looked, how easy it all felt. All of a sudden, she was within Leona’s arms. And just like that, he let her go. No explanations, nothing.

But Jade tries to convince himself. That he is the one there, not him.

He is the one undressing Asami, with his hands, in this skin.

Not him. Not Leona Kingscholar.

Jade’s hands push the hems of her skirt up to her waist, and part the soft fabric to reveal her skin. How he has missed her like this, quivering and wet underneath his stare, underneath his hands. He leans in and trails wet, rough and jagged kisses across her neck, to her collarbone, to her shoulder, biting his way back down to her chest. His hands tightly pin her wrists down.

You’re mine, they tell her.

All mine, she hears it through his ragged breathing, through the grip on her skin. His kisses feel like warnings, beware, they tell her. But she isn’t one to listen. Not when his lips are so inviting, not when his hands of alabaster guide her so lovingly toward him. Another kiss, on the side of her breast, and then he sucks on her sensitive skin. Jade knows exactly where to kiss, exactly where to touch to put her in pieces, moaning underneath him. His fingers are trailing where the garterbelt clips, and they are easily undone by his skillful hands.

The sound of his belt unbuckling is music to Asami’s ears. She loves it, and she looks forward to the events he can lead her to after.

Her eyes try their best to focus on him, and the shape of his waist. The abdominal lines that excite her so. His trail, a darker shade of teal that makes her insides quiver. Jade Leech is a curious creature. He’s also a creature of beauty, of ferocity, and something else Asami can’t spell, not with the letters that this world can wield.

Jade knows how much it pleases her, when he is in this state of undress. The blush on her face alone is enough to know: she can’t get enough, and she wants more. More.

Jade leans in, for another sweet and tender kiss, and Asami’s hands are pulling him close, from the nape, and her hands snake around the back of his ear, her fingers gingerly caressing his earlobes. Jade doesn’t understand why she does this, what the need for it is but he lets her anyway. Maybe she is amused with sleeping with a partner who has human ears, maybe? The thought makes Jade chuckle, though she doesn’t ever seem to notice it.

“Jade.” He hovers over her like a spell gone wild, a premonition, and he languidly breathes into her skin, down her abdomen, his fingers following after— and then down her belly, fingers stroking her thighs. Heavy hands now guide her thighs up and open for him, so he can finally have the perfect view of her.

He was quick to learn the ways of pleasure for creatures of the land, but for Asami’s sake, he had to go very slow. He had to make sure he knew what she wanted, or at least, what she thought she wanted. Jade Leech leans in, and she holds her breath, her hands anchoring her to his mattress.

Asami feels him, wet and hot, a very very hot mouth on her. Tongue, a different kind of sensation than what she was used to, not as rough, not as shocking. And she feels the movement of some smooth recitation from Jade Leech’s curious and dangerous lips onto her wet cunt.

He hears the softness of her breath, the music it brings out of her, and Jade is delighted. His hands tighten around her thighs as dips his tongue deeper, alternating sucks and broad drags of his tongue. Tasting her.

She reaches for him, hands desperate to hold him as she looks into his mismatched eyes. Asami likes it whenever Jade does this, and his eyes never leave hers.

When he stares right back into hers, into her core, she feels the affection she has never thought she deserved. The love she has been hoping for. It just took her several years to realise that perhaps, it was meant to come from someplace else, from someone else. She is grateful.

Jade reveres her like an empress, like she is the fairest of all the land - maybe she truly is , for him at the very least.

She is a confection of delicateness, and melodic sighs— everything Jade wants, everything he loves most. Her legs shake from pleasure and the intensity of his touch, and he loves the way she looks as she searches for something, anything, to tether herself into this bed— his domain — desperate to keep herself in place. Because she knows if she doesn’t, she will be drifting away in pieces at how hard he is going at her clit, how hot his mouth feels on her and how much he is teasing her.

But his hands remind her that he is present, he is there.

He is her anchor, and her storm at sea — all in one.

His forearms push her down, while his hands reach for her breasts— he can, even with this form, he surely can— mouth, tongue and almost teeth still on her cunt. There have been times when he thought about doing all of this to her, with her, in his true form, and he wonders if she will ever be up for it. Jade’s mind wanders for a second, but he does not let up, it is still all about her. If he wanders too long, her voice will bring him back, her voice— as if it is truly the most precious, valuable thing in this world — brings him back to the shore of her body, the coast of her softness.

Asami holds her breath when she feels she is close, but Jade Leech wants this to last.

So he sucks hard, earning him a gasp, and then a groan. Asami chants towards enlightenment; she has to redo it and try again, if Jade lets her.

Jade feels it when she opens herself wider, urges him to push her down harder and heavier, she is close. Jade takes her by the thighs, and adjusts himself so he almost looks like he is ready to slip his entire self into her and his tongue yields her soft, hot and wet flesh, and invites her to come. Softly grazing her with his tongue, and then, sucking, and then again licking her softly.

Time feels like it stops when Asami holds herself like this, holds her breath again.

When Jade finally lets her have it, he continues his pace as he listens to her. He is desperate to make her concentrate on her sweet bundle of nerves, the touch of his tongue, and the warmth of his breath onto her.

And she finds release, her thighs tighten around his face and she cries out incoherent words and mews of satisfaction. Jade adores how she coos, and he kisses her inner thigh, continuously, letting her ride the waves of pleasure he so patiently lavished. Jade carefully moves her legs, and moves up to watch her face as she pants. Her eyes find him, smiling, and she doesn't utter a word, but Jade’s fingers are quick to trace her cheeks that are now so red, down to her lips that now look so desperate and wanting for more.

When they meet like this, a few days in the middle of each month, he savours every opportunity to make her come, and Jade finds great satisfaction in making sure she enjoys the best release, every single time. He is particularly proud of the way his masterful hands seemingly wrenched the pearl of her soul out of her oysterlike prison— out of the steel bars of the lion’s den— and into this world that is his bed.

She is his pearl, his treasure.

His precious Asami, pearlescent and soft and beautiful in the centre of his world. How he loves her, how desperate he is to keep her right there. Away from the clutching grip of the past, away from the claws of unrequited love and away from Kingscholar, forever, if this world so allows.

“P-please,” she moans, and she begs. Jade can’t refuse her when she does this. Her voice sounds like she could break, any minute now, his precious pearl. His lone casablanca.

Jade starts slow. Getting accustomed to the pleasures of this form, within this skin, didn’t take very long. She is irresistible to him, and when she first let him have her, he was surprised to find how easily he could break underneath this spell she is so unaware that’s binding his heart, his fangs, his claws and his very essence to her. Her alone.

Jade’s hand now firm on her ass, Asami opens her legs a little bit more, his grip tighter and his breathing slower and heavier than hers as he brushes the tip of his cock against her cunt.

A greedy woman, she truly is. And Jade can feel his lips form a satisfied smile, so maybe he made her this way.

“P-please,” she moans and she begs as he rolls her over.

They fuck hard and she can barely keep herself upright as Jade pushes his entire length and girth inside her. She is thankful he is so considerate, making sure there were pillows underneath her, and her face is properly cushioned. But sometimes she wonders if he truly is thoughtful, with how hard his nails are digging onto her skin, with how hard he is fucking into her.

A heavy force, just as rough when you let him be, Jade Leech.

Leona and Jade - different sides of the same ferocious coin.

But it is funny to Asami how, in between gasps and out-of-breath kisses, in the spaces between Jade thrusting himself into her, she finds these comparisons. She doesn’t want to compare them, but a common ground always seems to connect her hearts to them. Her past, and now present.

Her maelstrom, her lighthouse. Her Jade.

His scent long forgotten, his fangs long absent from her skin. Bruises long healed.

Jade bends down, sucks on her shoulder as he pounds her harder. Harder. Faster. And Asami cannot hear herself and how she is moaning, but Jade can hear her, only her. Sometimes muffled against the pillow, and then she tilts her head to the side and gasps for air.

Hands circle around her, feeling her breasts, and then he adjusts himself, his hands supporting themselves on her hips once more. He smoothes them down to her ass.

Jade knows she likes it hard, and he has always found that he wants to compete with that ferocity he knows she once loved. The only kind of love she knew, until him. Sometimes he wonders if she still loves him. If he is only a replacement. Sometimes his mind wanders. And then he goes harder, harder, pulling her pony out so he can let her hair down. Just to grab it up so it is held by his fingers instead and he can pull her hair so much tighter as he bottoms out. He is rough, and Asami is near to tears. But she likes it, she loves it. He knows she does.

“J-Jade,” she moans, drooling on her pillow. Jade pulls out, turns her so she is laying on her back. “Face me,” he growls. His voice lower now, deeper. His hands are pushing her thighs down and open, and he goes for it yet again. His thumb slowly glide down her clit as he enters her again. She gasps sharply, her eyes watching his every move, so she sees the shimmer in his eyes - dark and dangerous- and the way it encourages her to let go and come again.

He wishes someone could watch the way he fucks her. There is elegance there. His ferocity is carefully wrapped around by elegance, wrapped around her and her finger, though she doesn’t know this. Not fully.

He fucks her hard. And he takes her ankles and plants wet kisses there. Alternating with eager nips, bending and then pushing her down, harder. Kisses to her knees, it feels so good. “Ah-,” he grunts as he pushes down her legs, this lets him go deeper, more forceful.

The composure and finesse that hold Jade Leech’s demeanor together slowly break as he fucks her.

Jade knows that she isn’t made of glass. She can take it, blow by blow. So he wants to make her. He repositions them again, and puts her up so she is sitting on his lap. And then he lets her work herself down on him. He grips her tightly around the waist before he slides his hands toward her ass. His middle finger gently strokes her there, wringing another sharp gasp out of her. He knows Asami finds support around his neck whenever he teases her like this. She is breathless, and she is blushing, but she wants all of this and more.

The perfect view of her face, and the expression she is now wearing— so different, a far cry from her prim, proper, pure self outside his domain.

Only for him, she is like this only for him. Only like this— because of him.

Jade Leech doesn’t think he is deep enough, so he pushes her down, shocking Asami with the swift movement. Jade’s laboured breathing is something she can never get used to, just like the way he blushes whenever they are so close like this thrills her. His hungry eyes seem to see through all of her, exciting her insides, making her drip. Jade is thrusting into her again, and she can feel how close she is. His pace becomes more erratic, his elegance slowly crumbling to a jerky staccato that’s very unlike his usual rolls into her.

“Asami,” he hisses in between heavy breaths, and she tries to touch his thighs— as he fucks into her, starved and ravenous like the predator that he truly is. She wants to touch him too. She wants him too. She wants her hands all over him too.

Asami’s soft fingers call out to him, and he is quick to go into her embrace. His hips crash onto hers so feverishly she feels her whole body jerk and bob up and down. She feels good, she loves his relentlessness. He is close himself, brought there by her body, by her arms around him.

She stretches for a kiss. Her fingers toy with his earring, as their lips lock once more.

What is it about predators that attract her attention, make her fingers tingle? What is it about carnivores? Asami doesn’t understand it, but she knows Jade is so beautiful to her. She can feel him hitting the deepest parts of her. There is a slight sting, but the pleasure of him, the pleasure of it all, is stronger.

“I love you,” escapes her soft lips, and Jade wonders if she is really talking to him. Sometimes the trust he so lovingly bestowes upon her betrays him in the most unfortunate moments. But he tries to push that thought aside, looks directly into her eyes so he can see only her and she can see only him.

And how the light seems to reflect on her eyes, always. He loves her, too— of course he does, so much. He has thought of her with fondness since the first time they met. It took him a long fucking time to make his move but here he is, cock-deep in her, finally.

Not for the first time and not the last.

That thought is what makes him come, hot and slick inside and desperate to stay there. Her legs squeeze him lovingly, her arms pull him tight as he bites the side of her neck and feels how the last of his release oozes into her This skin, his temporary form, how grateful he is for it right now. How grateful he is for anything that lets him be with her.

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

The aftermath of it all is a sacred time for Jade. He lays beside her, eyes carefully watching the soft shadows of her lashes on her cheeks, even breathing from her softly parted lips. The dark of her hair all over his pillow and her back, she lays on her tummy and he pokes her cheek with a soft chuckle.

What a beautiful creature, he thinks to himself. He won’t ever get used to it, he won’t ever get tired of her, this view and the many things they could learn and explore together. Jade runs his fingers through her hair, and gives her a kiss on her cheek.

And then on her fringe, inhaling deeply. He wanted to run a bath for her, but she insisted on staying in bed, and being held. He can never refuse her.

Even though Jade is the one who trims the stems of the bouquet, and sets each flower in place...even though he is the one usually in control, she rules his heart. He is on his knees because of her. She is the queen of lilies after all, the empress of his world, his precious pearl. He cannot force her and he cannot taint her.

He can only try to improve her vase.

Maybe this is what brought the king to his knees. Maybe this is why he left. Maybe he realised how big an impact she could make on his life, on his heart. But that thought makes Jade chuckle. He hasn’t been a coward, he thinks. And he marvels at how long she has waited, and how long he waited for her, the intersections in the past where they connected and met. He believes, has believed for so long, that he is the one for her.

The delicate petals, much like her lips, the precise way the flower bends, the purity of it all— his heart sings for the queen of lilies, for his casablancas.

Carefully curated, skillfully placed, within his domain.

Purest white set upon the backdrop of his darkness, elegance and ferocity…but he knows deep down, he is a mere devotee. Not a director.

Beauty tames ferocity. Always.

A/N: I just want to say thank you A BIG BIG THANK YOU to pseudofaux for helping me with this delicate piece. I wanted to stay consistent and faithful to the first chapter. I also never really written a full sexual scene so I was struggling a lot. Thank you Pseu for your patience and for your hardwork. Thank you.

I also want to thank scummy for helping me sent the pace and tone/flow of the first draft. Thank you so much!

Thank you so much for reading this piece! If you enjoyed this story, please do let me know what you think! If you're interested to see more of my TWST art,

I am over twitter most of the time. ♡(｡- ω -)

#twisted wonderland #twst jade #Jade Leech #Asami Oda #onibeni writes

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ellie-talks-toh · 2 years ago

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To Be Wild, To Be Happy, To be Free + 1, 5, 11

What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I think I've mentioned it before, but I love big casts of characters, and the Heroes of Olympus Series was a massive inspiration of mine growing up. Even when my love of reading died down due to some outside influences (Thanks mum), those books still kept my attention.

Thats very much the inspiration for how I organize the chapters, spitting them into different POVs with clear markers of whose eyes we're seeing through. Other aspects I take from other fics I read and like. I can't tell you how many times I've gone back through the chapters and changed things to help them look or flow better. Inspiration is everywhere.

5. What part was the hardest to write

As of now? The fight between Hunter and Ocras in chapter 9. I can't explain why, but I really struggled to get the flow of the section down for the longest while. I'm pretty sure i rewrote it near a dozen times trying to get it right.

Aside from that, its always been little moments. A few sentences here or there that bridge the gap from one idea to another that just refuse to come out right. It's always the little details.

11. What do you like best about this fic?

When I finished the first fic and moved onto this one, I had one thing I wanted to improve on; giving the characters more quiet moments. I don't think Sketchy Potions and Magical Commotions was in any way bad, I'm actually still pretty proud of it as a first fic, but I really do feel like there wasn't enough time for the characters to breathe.

As much fun as the big actions set pieces and dramatic moments are, I love the quiet and silly moments so much. Gus making fun of Emira for getting the colour of her illusion's hair ever so slightly wrong, Viney calling Luz out on her self deprecation about her crush, Skara mixing her bard and healing magic to fix her shoulder, King and Luz admitting how they see each other as siblings. Those are the moments that really stick in my head, and I see a lot of people in the comments agreeing with that sentiment.

Plot is important, but what I love about this fic is that it has heart. And I hope that I never write a fic that doesn't.

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leejeongz · 4 years ago

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nsfw a-z SEUNGHUN (CIX)

requested: yes, by anon

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his only priority is you. he gets that things can get a little… spicy, when he’s left to do whatever he wants to you, so taking care of you afterwards is the most important thing for him. you are getting endless amounts of kisses and cuddles and he’s gonna ask if you need anything… like… a lot.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he LOVES your hands. they’re so pretty to him. so pretty when they’re close to his face, or wrapped around his dick, or gripping onto the sheets. he l o v e s them. his way to make sex more romantic is to hold hands where possible, yet another reason why he loves your hands.

for him, it’s his neck. his neck is super sensitive and, alongside his abs, is his favourite place for you to kiss and tease him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

if he can’t cum inside you (which he always wants to do) he’ll make you either swallow it or will finish on your tummy. if any gets on the floor, he’s getting you to lick that up, you better not waste his cum, you’re his (pretty) cum slut after all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

you once agreed to filming you pair while you did the deed. he kept it for himself to watch and gets off to it most of the time, it never gets old.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i don’t want to put a number on it but he’s definitely not a virgin, far from it. he knows what he’s doing and there’s not much he hasn’t done before. he knows what he likes and he certainly knows where the clit is.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

this man loves morning sex, so spooning is perfect for him. it’s slow, sensual and romantic and you can put in as little effort as you want. he can also grab your neck or your tits or even :D both :D from behind, without him being in an uncomfortable position.

he’s also a fan of standing doggy, even though he’s really tall, he can still find the perfect height and angle to pleasure you at while wrapping his hand around you to rub your clit :).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he can be a little goofy in the moment but that’s just him being him. it makes the whole situation feel a lot more personal and romantic. he likes to giggle about little things but is also very mature and serious at the appropriate times.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

completely shaved. he thinks it’s more convenient for you when you're sucking his dick (don’t forget the balls) and thinks it looks hotter from his perspective. it’s also a better way to see how much of his dick you really took. he shaves most of the time but honestly, i kinda see him also wanting to wax it to keep the hair away for a longer period of time.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

most of the time, he keeps the sex as romantic as possible and does all the cliche things like holding hands, exchanging kisses and sweet nothings even when it’s getting a little rough, he even lights a candle and puts on music sometimes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he likes to take his sweet time and edge himself A LOT. he imagines a lot of stuff but most of the time relies on pictures, videos and free stuff online. honestly, i can see him being someone who films himself, he finds it enhances the experience a lot more (and fuels his exhibitionist fantasies ofc).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

exhibitionism- obviously not in the illegal way. he just likes the possibility of getting caught. he likes sneaking around with you but also giving other people a show. this mostly happens on vacation (if you agree) by pressing you against windows in hotel rooms late at night and fucking you from behind or making you suck his dick in front of the window.

quirofilia (i googled the name lmao)/ hands- he knows he has nice hands and that you like them, especially wrapped around your neck, but he also secretly has a thing for your hands too. handjobs are so underrated but not by this man, he cannot get enough. he likes watching you paint your nails, he likes when you let him pick the colour even more because he imagines what would look the best when they're dragging along his skin.

CHOKING (borderline breath play)- idk if this is a kink but b o y he loves to choke you. there’s nothing he likes more than fucking you in missionary but spicing it up with his hand tightly wrapped around your neck. but he’s not your average choker, he likes to see you struggle (if you both trust each other that is and with a safety gesture). of course he knows that breath play is dangerous, so he wouldn’t take it to the extreme, but hearing the change in your breathing is so HOT to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he would do it anywhere lmao he’s not shy of people seeing.

but he really likes the sofa in the living room, it’s comfortable and still in your own home because he knows not everyone is up for fucking in places you might get caught, but still isn’t as “basic” as a bed. there’s also not that much space to “get lost in”since he’s not much of a manhandler, it encourages either of you to sit on the edge most of the time, providing easily access 😜

but as i mentioned above, he loves showing off to anyone who wants to watch. friends houses and hotels are his favourite places to do this.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

i don’t think he’d be turned on by random things, but there are definitely certain things about you that turn him on. like when you put your pen in your mouth while you're thinking or when you lick your fingers after eating food. anything that resembles a blowjob, he’s there begging for some head. or if he looks at your hands while they're holding onto something that looks even a little bit like his dick, he is so ready for a quick handjob.

if you accidentally touch his dick or “accidentally” back up a lil too far when spooning, you’re getting fucked there and then, i hope you’re proud of yourself :p. (but not without him teasing you a little bit beforehand for doing so.)

let’s be real tho, this guy looks at his naked self in the mirror and gets turned on by that… imagine being THAT attractive only seunghun smh

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there’s not much he wouldn’t do, anything that made you happy made him happy. that being said, i don’t think he’d ever be comfortable with slapping anything that isn’t ur ass. especially not your face, even if it does turn you on or whatever

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

HE LOVES TO RECEIVE. he would do a n y t h i n g to feel your lips wrapped around him whenever, wherever. he just loves getting head. he likes it sloppy and kinda slow, with lots of spit and eye contact. but he expects you to clean the floor afterwards, you made the mess since “you were the one who made him cum” so you clean it, with your tongue 👅gOd he gets so cocky when he hears you complaining that you can’t take it all or when you have a sore throat after sucking his dick, so you do it all the more for some amazing sex hehe. the man loves fucking your face, pulling back and grabbing your chin whenever he’s even just slightly bored,kissing you, then pushing his cock back into your mouth.

he’s not gonna eat you out if you ask him to, he’s going to do it when he wants to do it, when he can SENSE that you want it. he’s pretty good with his lips and likes to give you gentle kisses down there since he knows you’ve probably never experienced that before (given than most men have no fucking clue lol).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

usually slow, sensual with a healthy sprinkle of fast and rough. the slow pace is also considered a tease, he knows you want it harder, but you’re not getting it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

sometimes they are just what he needs. if he’s horny and there’s not much time to spend dragging out everything, you can bet ur fine ass he’s taking you to the nearest private space and having his way with you. sometimes even just spotting a location to do it in is enough to let his imagination run wild and soon enough, you’re there, getting railed

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he was born to take risks. whatever you want to do, he wants to do too, no matter how risky it is. he’s not shy to bring up anything that he wants to try either and is very open about what he likes. gets most of his ideas from things he’s done before, but he knows they’ll be better this time because they’re with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

2-3 rounds. there’s nothing stopping him on occasion, he actually shocks you how many rounds he can go for without a break.

all last around 20 minutes and he never skips foreplay hehe.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

if you wanna use them, he’s not fussed. but his ideal sex does not involve any toys. he believes he can do everything you need to be satisfied so why would you need toys? but if you want to introduce them to activities every once in a while, he’ll go along with it, just for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again… THE BIGGEST TEASE IN KPOP.

he sends you numerous texts describing what he wants to do to you when he knows you're busy, sometimes, if you’re lucky, he might even treat you to a whisper in your ear when you’re in public, something along the lines of “i can’t wait until we get home” followed by a sweet kiss against your cheek. and he loves winking at you. just an innocent wink to everyone else means so much more to you and he knows it gets you wet almost instantly.

your neck is his fav place to tease you, whispering against it and pressing light kisses against it until that alone makes your eyes roll and you moan quietly. that being said, he likes when you tease him too, only he knows he can get away with punishing you for it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

BIG ON DIRTY TALK. “that’s it baby, just a little bit more” “i know you wanna cum, but you’re not going to until i say, right?” “don’t stop, honey, don’t stop” he will say anything at any time, no filter, just whatever feels right.

he’s a little bit of a moaner, quite loud too, but you’re gonna have to do something extra special to get one of those.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

things got real boring real quick when you realised seunghun was engrossed in the tv while you were sucking his dick so you decided now was your chance to show him who was really in charge here.

your figure was now blocking the screen in front of him as you straddled him, there were no distractions for him.

“i was-“ you cut him off mid sentence with a finger pushed against his lips. you took it off and used that hand to guide his dick towards the pool of moisture that had been in between your legs for a while. he smirked slyly and let you continue, enjoying seeing this side of you for once.

although you’d done it many times, you still weren’t used to his size and the way it felt and your face was not hiding any of that. he chuckled slightly, leaning up as he did so with a hand resting on the small of your back so you didn’t fall.

“go on baby, you can do it, take it all” he spoke, the smirk becoming more clear on his face. he added a wink, knowing it would fuck with you too.

“fuck you, seunghun” you let out, lowering yourself another inch onto his length, almost all the way there now. he leaned back agasint the headboard once again, knowing he still had control, but it was fun to see you thinking that you did. his hands now rested on your thighs which were tense and hard, there was no way you were lasting in this position, he thought to himself.

you had finally gotten to riding his dick properly, an activity you did almost every day these days. seunghun had already managed to have you put on a blindfold, called you cute numerous times and was surely on his way to changing position, claiming that you should “let the expert take over”.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

l a r g e. both length and girth… above average. girl you’re so lucky to be getting that dick 😭 but good luck walking for a few hours (days) after because he knows how to use it too.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

probably the highest out of anyone on the entire planet lol.

he would have sex 24/7 if he could.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he simply does not sleep. most of the time, he’s eager to stay up with you, cuddling or just getting on with you day. don’t get me wrong sometimes, he needs to sleep after, and then it’s only after you do, but it’s rare.

#smut #cix smut #seunghun #seunghun smut #cix imagines

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centrally-unplanned · 4 years ago

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Allocating Your Aesthetic Budget: Sailor Moon Edition

Sailor Moon is a show that undoubtedly built a powerhouse of a visual brand. Should I even bother posting a screenshot of the sailor scouts, given that I am 100% confident anyone reading this can recall them instantly? I guess it won’t hurt:

Anime is often really good at creating iconic designs like this, through repetition of the visuals. It is awkward in live action shows if characters just wear the same outfit every scene (what, they only own one outfit? Are they homeless/work in the tech industry?), but animation gives us enough aesthetic “distance”, an awareness that this isn’t accurate to real life, that you can buy into the conceit. By wearing the same outfit every time, it just becomes the character. Not to mention a studio can really save quite a few bucks by streamlining production with neat tricks like having only one character design to animate - when you are on a shoe-string budget, like pretty much every anime in the 90’s was, every cut corner counts.

What is interesting about Sailor Moon is that most of the time it doesn’t really use this conceit at all.

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Episode 15 of Sailor Moon’s first season has, in its opening act, this shot of all of the Senshi (at the time) talking to the plot-of-the-day character, who clearly trains rock Pokemon in 16-bit caves in his off hours:

If you knew nothing about these three characters, you could probably infer about 80% of their personality just from their outfits. Usagi (the blond one in the middle, if that's necessary) is wearing:

Light pastel colours, with pink on top of that: girly, feminine, bubbly and breezy

Short-but-not-too-short of a skirt, and red heels: cares about fashion, wants to project an image of being a woman with a romantic hint to it

Long-twin tails w/ buns: Contrasting the shoes, she is still immature and childish. It also means she is the protagonist of an anime

Rei (far right) rocks a very different look:

T-shirt and jean shorts, shoes over heels: sensible, practical, a bit sporty

Very short shorts, long black hair: Confident, a bit aggressive, and suggestive of a more overt sexuality

Ami (far left) settles into a more restrained vibe with:

Full, long, but sleeveless dress, bob-cut hair: Chaste, more conservative, but not to the point of prudishness; particularly with the length (and the hand posture, shielding her body) probably a bit shy

Monochrome blue colour in outfit & hair: reserved, serene, possessing a calm demeanor

I know I have seen the show already, but really none of these details are a stretch - this is just the language of fashion. And all of these outfits are outfits that the characters have never (or rarely) worn before up until this point. The cast of Sailor Moon, far from that animation conceit of “standard outfits”, change clothes all…

the….

time.

I just randomly clicked on episodes to find these, it requires no hunting

And while it isn’t always as spot on as the top picture, they all in some way embody the language of visual design to speak to the personality of the characters. If you want to see more, check out one of the multiple tumblrs dedicated to the everyday clothing the Sailor Senshi wear, because of course those exist.

If this was a 2010’s Kyoto Animation show, pointing this out would be the end of it - every one of their shows has this level of impeccable detail. Sailor Moon is notable in that it is not at all that kind of show; the animation and designs in Sailor Moon take perpetual shortcuts to get the job done. I don’t think the transformation sequences need to be belabored - the way they permitted the team to recycle identical animation sequences, multiple times per episode, was surely a godsend to the production schedule. Yet not all of the budget limitations are so prettily masked:

I’m sure they finished the background art in the...VHS release?

The show is filled with dirty animation, unfinished backgrounds, backgrounds that are a simple color gradient for no clear reason, and so on. It is clear that the Sailor Moon team did not have the resources for every detail - which is why the decision of what details they did choose to prioritize is so interesting.

----------

What is the point of Sailor Moon? I do believe that shows have “points”; and by that I don’t mean a message or theme but a core appeal to an audience, something specific that they will get out of the show. Almost every show appeals along multiple axes, and Sailor Moon is no exception, but I want to focus on one: aesthetic identification.

If you learn someone is a Sailor Moon fan, there is the obvious follow-up question you have to ask, namely “which Sailor Senshi are you?” It’s the which-Harry-Potter-house-are-you question of anime, a horoscope where you can choose your sign (in this case literally). The premise of this concept is not hard for media to execute on - it is just personality traits and aesthetics grouped together under a label, a basic building block of media and clickbait internet quizzes. Harry Potter, ironically, raised up its memetic question almost by accident, as its focus is so squarely on House Gryffindor that the others are almost forgotten; it was just so mind-bogglingly popular that it didn’t matter.

Sailor Moon, however, takes this concept and allocates so much of its aesthetic budget into making it a centerpiece of the show. Sailor Moon herself is a klutzy, lazy romantic, Sailor Mercury is a shy, earnest bookworm, and so on, with none of them ever really becoming very complex characters. However, the show devotes itself to making you *feel* these archetypes as strongly and intricately as possible. All of those outfit changes are chosen because not only do real girls care about their outfits and can therefore identify more strongly with characters who do the same, but so they can constantly emulate their archetype in diverse, different ways. The show doesn't have the budget for intense action scenes, so after Sailor Moon engages in her hyper-serious transformation sequences, she proceeds to, nearly every time, bumble through the combat scenes like this:

Oh sure, the scenes are done this way because it is funny (and good comedy can be done on any budget - these shots are frequently still frames with motion lines!), but it is also done this way because Sailor Moon is a total screw-up, and if you identify with that it is validating to see someone “just like you” able to pull off wins despite it all. The transformation sequences are not only beautiful animation that showcases aspirational power, but are also crafted to highlight the personalities of the Senshi in question - unless you think aggressive, combative Rei got fire powers by coincidence. Half of the run-time of every episode is spent, not on the plot du-jour, but on light-hearted personal squabbles between the cast because those scenes are not just funny, but also allow for far more moments of character expression.

All of that work pays off in building with the audience, not a connection with a character who reflects their identity in total, but a connection that reflects one aspect of their identity in an extremely deep (dare I say multifaceted?) way. I think if you were to describe Sailor Moon as a “shallow” show, you would actually be right to say so, in a sense. These characters will never have the true depth of personality, themes and so on of a more ‘adult’ show. But those adult shows have to spend their effort somewhere - for all that the themes of say Evangelion or Paranoia Agent are pristinely detailed and impactful, you aren’t ever going to be memorizing the moves of their transformation sequences. The way Sailor Moon committed so strongly to fleshing out the archetypes the Senshi stood for is, I think, one of the keys to how this cast of five became so iconic.

Not even their school uniforms match! They had to spend time in-universe *justifying* this!

----------

A Final Note:

At least, everything I’ve said here applies to Sailor Moon at its peaks. The show, however, is not one without its stumbles, even in Season 1. This section doesn’t flow into the core essay too well, but I wanted to note it because if you were to watch Sailor Moon today, you might struggle to feel the dynamic outlined above. The biggest culprit here is the length - Season 1 is 46 episodes long, and sections of it most certainly drag. They also take a startlingly long time to introduce the cast - this choice builds tension around their arrival, but it also means the later Senshi get a lot less time to establish themselves. Sailor Venus in particular gets hamstrung by this - she is introduced and then immediately arc plot elements sweep the narrative, and so she is left as a hollow shell for some time. The pacing of the show is undoubtedly flawed.

I think Sailor Moon is a show that you do have to keep its time and place in mind for - namely, middle schoolers and anime nerds watching it on broadcast TV in the 90’s. As an adult you “get” the point of the show pretty quickly, and get satiated on it almost as fast. Watching it all in a few sittings only heightens this problem. For a younger audience, and one that is waiting for a week between episodes with no internet for plot reminders, all that extra time is needed to jog memories and build connections. And younger audiences just have that limitless commitment to the things they love! If you think no one could actually enjoy seeing the same transformation sequence for the 30th time, watch it with someone who would have died for this show when they were 10 and you will be disabused of that notion *very* quickly.

Still, we can’t travel back in time - Sailor Moon is a show of its era. There are “filler-reduced” guides out there, though I caution that the plot of Sailor Moon is absolutely not the point of the show in comparison to the character dynamics, and so sometimes the filler is the best part (Cat-Rhett Butler is the best character in the show YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT). Certainly, however, some method must be used to cut down on its length. If you are going to be a first time viewer in adulthood, that reality should be kept in mind, and if you do accept it for what it is you can really appreciate its core appeal - and don’t forget to finish it off with a 1990′s era internet personality quiz to really wrap it up!

#essay #anime analysis #sailor moon

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Professor ~ JHS [M] [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 4.2K

↬↬↬Genre: College Au!, Tutor!Hoseok, Student!Reader, smut,

↬↬↬Warnings: praise kink, smut, swearing, Cunnilingus, blow job, unprotected sex.

↬↬↬A/N: I lost the anon that requested this but it was asking for Hoseok and a praise kink. I wanted to make it different from the cliche ‘’You’re so quiet so I noticed you’’ aspect so I tried something a little different. Hope this is okay for you and yes Hosoek is a literacy tutor for this…don’t question me

Your unusually bright hair was what made you stand out in a crowd and in class, you were the girl that was well known and liked because you told people how it was and you didn't care if it made them hate you. If it was the truth it had to be told, it was how you were raised and how you were going to continue living. Besides from being the confident, loud and loving one of your friendship group - if you could call it a group, everyone on your side of college campus seemed to love and know who you were - you were also the smartest. Always passing your classes with flying colours and the one class you did your very best in was Literacy with Professor Hoseok. You had no idea why you always did so well in his class but there was never a change in grade in that one, A's throughout your first and second year, even now in your final year you were getting A's across the board.

"Lewis Carroll was a novelist and a poet! I want you all to take some time getting to know this author over your weekend!" Hoseok said as he knew the final bell was coming, it was a Friday afternoon and his Friday afternoon classes were nice and relaxing, he'd give you all an assignment to work on but nothing major to stress you all out over since it was the weekend.

"I know a lot of you will choose Alice's Adventures in Wonderland but I want you to think more outside of the box and branch into his other works." You began packing up everything into your bag, you had to collect some results from other classes before your weekend could begin. You'd planned a whole weekend away with two of your roommates, going to a spa to relax after the mock exams you'd taken.

"Y/n! Are you ready to get your pamper on?" Hoseok looked up as he heard Jihoo talking to you from her seat, he looked over at you. You were sitting there with your bright coloured hair thrown up into a messy ponytail, black jeans with a band shirt on. He noticed every student in his class but he noticed you the most, the way you stood out of the crowd but not in a disrespectful way. You stood out because you were smart - always answering questions that Hoseok had asked, doing your 100% best on the assignments he would set though he wasn't supposed to have favourites you were his.

"I'm so ready, I'll meet you back at the apartment. I have to get my grades from Professor Bang and Professor Sana," Your friends all left the classroom and you got up from the desk, flicking through your folder as you walked to the front of the classroom.

"Professor Hoseok?" Hoseok looked away from his laptop screen, he was grading last week's papers that were long overdue and he was going to be far behind for the weekend.

"Yes Miss Y/l/n?" You smiled softly at him, the way your name rolled off his tongue like that sent shivers down your spine but you would never act on it. There was no rule against dating a college professor on your campus but sleeping with someone who graded your papers wasn't the best way to live the college life.

"I just wanted to hand this in, it was due Yesterday but Kyle was in the hospital." Kyle was another one of your classmates who'd been involved in a skateboard accident breaking one of his legs and his arm.

"You went to see him to get this to me?" You nodded and put the folder into your side bag,

"He was texting the group chat about how hard he'd worked on it and so I figured I could just hand it in." Hoseok thanked you and you left the room. He watched as you walked away from him, just by looking at you no one would expect you to be this kind and considerate towards others but Hoseok had looked into your school record. Not only did you excel in all of your classes your extracurriculars were just as impressive from volunteering at hospitals, nursing homes and tutoring others he wondered how you ever made time for yourself and it made him more interested in knowing you.

The weekend came and went for Hoseok, he'd spent his time closed up in his office hunched over papers trying to read through desperate attempts to pass his class. Your weekend, however, was spent hunched over your desk in your dorm instead of the relaxing it was supposed to be.

"Where's Y/n?" Josh asked as he walked into Hoseok's classroom, no one had seen you all day. Hoseok's ear picked up when he heard people mumbling your name, he could have sworn he'd seen you in the library earlier in the day when he went for a lunch break. He noticed the big glasses on your face as well as you bright hair before he noticed anything else, you were reading something so he didn't go to talk to you only now he wished he had.

"She didn't come on the spa trip, I called her and she said something came up." Jihoo sighed looking at Josh and laying her head on his shoulder, any excuse to flirt with someone but you were there. You were juts hunched up in the back of the class, hoodie pulled up over your head to hide your hair which was normally your favourite feature but right now it was the one thing that would give you away.

"Is she okay? She never misses classes." Hoseok scanned the classroom and he noticed you, your head was in a book, glasses pushed up against your face and head downcast trying to go unnoticed but you didn't go unnoticed by him. He could tell you didn't want to talk to anyone though so he started his class,

"I trust you all had a great weekend and are ready to learn." There were low mumbles about how excited they were and so he started lecturing them more on Lewis Carroll, giving them facts about his lifestyle and his upbringing.

"Aren't all his books and poems just children's play?" Josh screamed out making the whole class erupt into laughter, this was usually where you would step in to correct him but Hoseok was going to have to do that for you today.

"Not necessarily Mr Quarbeck, there are many meanings behind the things he wrote." He picked up his favourite copy of a Lewis Carol poem and showed everyone,

"The Walrus and the Carpenter, can anyone tell me what it's about?" He looked at you, you were dying to answer him since it was what your assignment was about. You'd chosen it because it happened to be one of your favourites.

"It's the one where the man goes under the sea and lures the oysters away. I watched a Disney movie." Jihoo said proudly, flicking her hair over her shoulder and smirking.

"I suppose so yes but there's a deeper meaning to the story than that. Have I taught you nothing over my years of teaching, you guys?" They all stared at him blankly and he could tell that this was a lost cause.

"Go. Take the class off, I want you all to go and reread your assignments and then come back when you find the deeper meaning." He clapped his hands together and the whole class began to rush around trying to beat everyone out of the class, you stayed behind to slowly pack up.

"Miss Y/l/n?" You glanced over at Hoseok who was leaning against his desk and gesturing for you to go over to him.

"Yes Professor Hoseok?" He smiled at you and then saw that you had bloodshot eyes and looked like you'd been crying,

"Sit down." He pointed at the seat beside his desk in the hall and then went to get you some tissues he kept on the desk.

"Everything okay?" It was a simple question that should have just had one answer 'yes' and then you should have left but as soon as he asked it was like the flood gates opened once again and you started crying and sobbing about something he couldn't quite understand. He didn't know how to comfort you about it since he didn't know what you were actually saying,

"What's the Walrus and the Carpenter about?" He asked and it was as if a switch went off in your head, the tears stopped and you spoke out facts to him.

"It has themes of death and betrayal within, it talks about tricking young oysters and eating them after a long walk together." He smiled as you started to calm down, he handed you the tissue and sat down.

"We won't have long until another professor comes to use this room. Do you want to come to my office and talk about it?" You nodded, it would be nice to talk to someone about what got you so upset. No one else would understand it except for him.

"Sit, do you want a hot drink?" He questioned, the inside of his office was huge. It had a wooden desk at the back wall and in front of it sat a brown fabric sofa covered with pillows and a throw. He caught you staring at the sofa before sitting down on it,

"I sometimes sleep here on the weekends when I'm behind, it's a lot easier than travelling home in the mornings." You nodded in understanding and he offered you a hot chocolate, he had a small kettle in his office along with a set of coffee, tea and hot chocolate sitting upon a mini-fridge.

"You practically live here Professor Hoseok," Your voice cracked as you tried to speak, you felt open with him and it was nice to have that feeling around someone.

"What's bothering you?" He asked sitting down on the sofa but leaving a gap between you.

"It seems so stupid looking back on it but I erm, I failed both Professor Bang and Sana's classes and I have to resit the whole exam again." He stared at you as he walked over to finish the drinks he was making. He placed them down on his desk instead of handing it to you, it was far too hot to drink right away.

"Are you struggling a lot in their classes?" You nodded your head,

"I don't understand it. It's just everyone's classes except yours I seem to be failing this year." You hid your face in your hands as you thought about it, maybe this was a huge mistake. Complaining to another professor that you were failing,

"You're always such a good girl, I doubt it won't take you long to pass them. How about I help you study? I took music production in college and Sana's class isn't that far away from my own. I can help." Your eyes shot up to stare at him as you heard him mention it,

"You'd do that?" Your voice was shaky and he could tell that you needed the help,

"Sure. How about we meet here on Friday?" You nodded eager to get to work with him,

"Thank you so much, Professor, I'll pay you back in any way I can. I'll tutor the other students more, or I can help you grade." He chuckled and shook his head at you,

"No need, just pass your glass and that's the only thanks I need." You smiled at him and nodded getting up from the sofa and leaving. He stared out of the small window that looked out into the hall at you and smiled to himself. The look on your face when he told you he'd help you was enough to make his week and he wanted to see it again.

Weeks had passed and you were doing better than ever in both of your classes thanks to Hoseok who had started insisting you called him Hobi when you were alone together. He didn't want everything to be formal since you were both spending so much time together and it was a lot of time. Once you'd even fallen asleep on the sofa and he'd tucked you in and left you there with a note about where his key was if you needed to get out and the door was locked. You'd gotten your grades back from both tutors this morning and you were excited to show the results to Hobi you practically sprinted to his office after your classes had finished that Friday.

"Ahh Y/n, how did it go?" He asked watching as you shut the door and turned the papers around to reveal a C on the front of each of them. It wasn't an A but it was a move up from the F you'd gotten before and that was all you cared about.

"A 'C'!? That's brilliant!" He called out coming out from his desk and taking the paper into your hand, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him without thinking but the second you realised you pulled away and cleared your throat.

"Sorry Professor, I just got a little excited." He shook his head and handed you the papers back,

"You should be excited. I'm so proud of you." He placed his hand on your shoulder and you felt a spark run through your body. Over the weeks with meeting up with him, you'd grown quite close and you'd started to notice an attraction towards him. He was handsome, he was incredibly smart and nice to you but he was also your tutor.

"I still don't know why I was struggling so much but thank your Professor,"

"I told you to call me Hobi," He sat down on the sofa and you sat down beside him, no gap between you. Your thigh against his thigh and he stared at you nervously thinking of how to approach the subject,

"I know why you do better with me." You hummed at him to continue and he sighed loosening his tie before taking it off and throwing it onto the desk. Images of the tie being wrapped around your hands filled your head but you ignored them trying to remain professional.

"In class whenever you answered something for me I would respond by praising you." You nodded to let him know you understood what he was saying,

"When you're in their class I'm assuming they don't do the same." You shook your head and it only proved to Hoseok what he thought in the first place.

"I think you have something that-" He stopped himself, it wasn't exactly teacher-student appropriate talk,

"This is me talking strictly as someone who knows you, not as Professor Hoseok. It came to my attention that you have a praise kink." You felt your cheeks begin to get hot and your ears start to burn as he brought it up. It was true but you thought it only applied in the bedroom not outside of it where you could benefit from it educationally.

"I'm assuming I'm right by the way you've gone silent and are staring at the floor." You nodded but it didn't feel uncomfortable to admit this to him it felt natural.

"I do have that but I never knew it would affect me out of the bedroom." He chuckled at you and nodded,

"I assumed that why you did so well," You smiled and thanked him for helping you again. He shook his head and you stared up into his eyes feeling your heart begin to flutter as he stared down at you. Ever since he'd mentioned the praise kink you'd gotten needy and he'd be lying to himself if he wasn't turned on by the thought of taking you in his office. Without either of you thinking about it you began leaning in until your lips touched and it was a spark to a fire. Everything became heated quickly, his hands were on your waist and you were moving to sit on his lap rather than next to him. His other hand ran up and cupped your face as you made out on the sofa, his tongue running along your bottom lip. You parted your lips allowing him access and he smirked sucking on your tongue a little and hearing you moan.

"Professor Hoseok," You whined as you felt him growing beneath you, you needed him and you needed the praise from making him feel good. You ground your hips down to create some friction and he groaned out holding onto your hip tightly as you continued to swirl your hips.

"You really are a good girl." He chuckled looking at you as you smiled at him, your eyes were filled with lust for him. You wanted to hear him moan out your name and call you a good girl all night. He tapped your ass gently,

"Lock the door, I don't want anyone walking in." He chuckled as you rushed over to lock the door, he walked to the small window and drew the curtains closed looking at you as he returned to the sofa. He'd expected you to get back onto his lap but you surprised him by dropping to your knees in front of him and reaching up to palm him through the jeans he was wearing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked as he stared down at you, growing harder underneath your touch as you continued to palm him through the rough fabric.

"Yes Professor," He shook his head at you and you started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

"Call me Hobi or Hoseok," You hummed and sprung him free from his boxers. He was covered in precum and it made your mouth water at the thought of taking him into your mouth,

"E-Easy... That's it, good girl." He praised as you slowly licked stripes along the tip of his cock before licking from the base to the tip and taking him all the way into your mouth, he grunted as he hit the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his head whenever you'd come back up his length letting him moan out your name loudly before placing his hand in your hair.

"F-fuck." He grunted loving the feeling of being inside of your mouth he was weak for you, he'd imagined this a thousand times but nothing he could imagine would come close to how you were making him feel right now. He held your face as he bucked his hips into your mouth breathing heavily as he felt himself getting closer to his release,

"You're such a good fucking girl taking my cock like this," You hummed around him and he whimpered softly as he felt the vibrations rush through his body.

"I-I can't...I'm g-gonna cum. Stop," You pulled off him a little disappointed that you didn't get to taste him and as if he could read your mind he ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

"You can taste me another time baby girl, right now I want to taste you," He pulled you up from the floor, kicking off his trousers before stripping you of your own clothes, he kissed your lips and you whined out as you felt his fingers trace your body. You were now fully naked and under his beck and call,

"Sit down on the sofa like a good girl." You did as you were told and he pulled you towards the edge of the sofa spreading your legs and smirking as he looked at your dripping pussy,

"All this for me?" He questioned running one finger between the wetness of your folds and chuckling as you let out another breathy whimper.

"All for you Hobi," He chuckled and kissed your lips before dropping to his knees in front of you,

"Good girl." You seemed to grow wetter and he noticed, kissing up your thighs until he reached your core. You tensed up a little, you'd only ever been eaten out once and you'd never done it again,

"Relax baby. Let me take care of you for being such a good girl." Your legs relaxed and he chuckled before kissing your sensitive clit replacing his lips with his thumb rubbing in small circles while he slipped in tongue into you sucking and licking.

"A-Ah fuck!" You cried out your back arching off the sofa as he continued to suck on your womanhood, making unholy sounds as you moaned out above him. He switched - his mouth returning to your clit and pumping two fingers inside of you. Your head was spinning as you felt every hair on your body stand up. You'd never felt like this with anyone and he chuckled feeling you clench around his fingers.

"Are you going to be a good girl and ask to cum?" Your legs lifted from the floor and wrapped around his shoulders unconsciously holding him closer to your cunt as you felt your orgasm approaching. He hummed and you moaned out his name nodding desperately,

"Y-Yes! Fuck! Please can I cum Professor Hobi?!" He chuckled once again hearing the same fall from your lips as you came undone above him.

"You've been so good, go on princess. Cum." His fingers began to pick up the pace and everything around you started to go white as he continued to eat you out like this.

"Hoseok!" You screamed out hands clinging onto the sofa as you tried to steady your bucking hips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck and making you moan out his name loudly.

"Good girl, look at that." He chuckled as you tiredly watched him take your arousal and cover his cock in it. It only made you needier for him and he got up from the floor and lined himself up at your entrance.

"Ready?" You nodded and he slowly eased himself inside of you not wanting to go too rough, you whined at his size and he held himself in place giving you time to adjust to him. He kissed your lips lovingly,

"Good girl, you okay?" You smiled drunkenly at him as he called you a good girl again.

"You can move." He slowly began to thrust in and out of you while you adjusted to him being there.

"You're so fucking tight and warm around me." You smiled again as you heard his praise and then you moaned finally getting pleasure now you were adjusted to him.

"H-harder." You begged him and he chuckled lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to angle himself deeper into you and you were already a mess crying out his name as he began to pound into you the sound of skin slapping together filled the air along with heavy panting.

"R-Right there!" You cried out loudly as he hit your sweet spot with ease, he began slamming into you as he felt you clenching around him. He grunted as he felt himself getting closer to his release once again, your mouth and cunt had made him needier than he'd ever been before.

"Fuck, you're so fucking good aren't you?" You nodded and he continued to fuck into you holding you in place with one hand as he pace got quicker and stronger each time he pulled out. It was intoxicating to be with you and you felt the same with him. He began kissing you as he felt himself getting closer,

"Feels so good professor," You whimpered moving your hips to meet with his every time he slammed into you making your head spin.

His pace got quicker and quicker and he began to moan out as you shook around him from the pleasure he was giving you. His hand reached down between you and began to rub your clit, it was like your body was on fire.

"Fuck! Fuck! Hobi I'm- I'm cumming!" You cried out as your orgasm ripped through your body sending waves through you.

"Me too baby," He continued to fuck you through both of your highs only pulling out of you when you both came down from your highs.

You were both panting heavily as he sat down beside you on the sofa, he turned to look at you with a lazy smile and you smiled back at him.

"I hope you know I don't plan on that being a one-time thing." You smiled back at him and nodded moving over to him and giving him a kiss.

"Good, I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." You whispered to him. Both of you far too tired to leave the office but knowing you had to soon.

"I'll take you home tonight,"

"My dorm is under construction, I need a ride to the train station. I'm staying out of town for the weekend." He looked at you,

"Are you staying with anyone?" You shook your head explaining that you were going to a small motel since it was the only place you could afford.

"You can stay at mine, take the bedroom and I'll have the sofa." You smirked at him,

"Why don't we both take the bedroom." He smirked back at you and nodded.

"I wanted to at least act like a gentleman first." You giggled at him and kissed him once again on the lips.

tagline:

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ressyfaerie · 3 years ago

Note

Fic request; (sorry if this isn't a personal headcanon of yours) Kai comes out as nonbinary & the team are largely accepting. Tyson takes longer than the rest to understand and pesters Kai with all his questions & general Tyson-ness. Doesn't have to be shippy but would be a nice bonus!

Oh I love this! I’ve read about someone's headcanon being Kai as nonbinary! As someone who also struggles with their gender identity this will be fun to write! I’m excited! But I understand this can be a sensitive topic for some people, so I’ll throw it into a readmore. It’s not my personal headcanon but writing this will be interesting and fun! I’m adding some Ressyfaerie flare so I apologize if it’s not exactly what you imagined! <3

The team had noticed Kai’s subtle attempts to experiment lately.

Wearing clothes that weren’t his normal style, the most surprising was the almost crop top Tyson immediately pointed out. Ray noticed the extra makeup he occasionally wore under his blue shark fins. His dark coloured clothes would occasionally be more pastel. He went to a school across town, so they didn’t see him most of the day; regardless they still noticed a change in his attitude. With each passing day, he became more comfortable with himself.

Today started off as any ordinary training day in the dojo. The team showed up after school and huddled waiting for Tyson who generally showed up late. Kenny opened his laptop in the corner, Hilary showed up with snacks attempting to bribe the team into showing her new blading techniques. Max and Ray stayed close, talking strategy or gossiping about what happened at school. Today Max wore a frilly green skirt overtop of white leggings.

“Hey! I was wondering where that went!” Hilary gasped when she saw it.

“Sorry Hil!” Max shrugged with a smirk.

“When I said you could borrow my clothes I didn’t mean keep them in your closet for a rainy day!”

“Hehe, sorry. I’ll buy my own, I’ll give your stuff back.” She glared at Max, “promise…”

They heard the door open. As good teammates they had all memorized the way their friends did everyday things, opening doors, walking, you name it.

“Here comes grouch of the year.” Max groaned.

“He’s been a lot better lately, give him a break…” Ray patted Max’s shoulder.

The door to the dojo slid open, Kenny looked up from his computer for a moment, “hey Kai!”

“Hey Kenny.”

Kai gave him a look that might have been a smile… or a judging glare… Who could tell at this point.

“Oh! Kenny smiled while pointing at Kai’s hand, “pretty colours!”

“Kai, I love them!” Max bounced over and grasped one of his hands inspecting the nailpolish. “Did you do them yourself?”

“Y—yeah… thanks.” Kai gulped.

Ray looked at them over Max’s shoulder. “Blue and red, good choice, any special occasion?”

“No. I just like doing them sometimes. It… makes me feel good.”

“Hey that happens to me too!” Max’s eyes shimmered.

“I haven’t worn nailpolish in public yet…” Kai looked to the ceiling and looked back down to the group. “I know it’s not normal.”

Ray chuckled, “it’s normal Kai.”

“What is normal anyways?” Max let go of his hand.

“You make a good point.” Kai nodded his head in response while looking at his hand.

The door to the house flung open, they could hear someone kick their shoes off and groan.

Tyson…

They all knew it was Tyson, but Kai worried about him. He was painfully aware that Tyson would have something to say about his new look, even though Tyson enjoyed doing much the same things, he always had to point it out!

The door to the dojo was thrown open, Tyson burst through, “hey guys!” Tyson grew a huge smile while looking at his friends. Then he looked at Kai and his mouth grew into a gasp.

Kai rolled his eyes.

“Look at you, Kai! Someone has been working way too hard to be a pretty boy lately!”

Kai sighed, and Max knit his eyebrows.

Max whispered in Ray’s direction, “I think I get it...”

After a while they drifted into their work. Kenny and Tyson analyzed something on his computer. Hilary badgered Tyson to show her a new move. Kai fiddled with Dranzer in the corner, Max nudged Ray, and they made their way to Kai.

The two of them sat in front of Kai, the hardwood creaked under them. Kai knew they wanted something, but remembered he was trying to be… nicer lately.

“What’s up?” Kai lowered the tiny screwdriver he was working with.

Max smiled at him.

“What is it?” Kai asked again, this time with a bit more attitude.

“You know you can tell us anything right, Kai?” Ray was pressuring him.

“Ray!” Max swatted his shoulder gently.

“Look, I’ve been uh…” Max folded their hands together fiddling with individual fingers. “For lack of better words, gender hopping for a while now. So I guess… What I’m trying to say is… I get what you're laying down.”

Kai blinked a few times, surprised Max picked it up so fast. He wasn’t sure if he was ready… but he knew his friends, he could trust them.

“I uh.” Kai started, then laughed a bit, “wow.” He fiddled with the small screwdriver on the floor, “you just… right on the money, Max.”

Max dropped his hand on Kai’s thigh. Kai wasn’t huge on touching yet, but Max wanted to give him some form of comfort.

“I’ve been thinking for… quite some time.” Kai started, he rubbed the back of his neck before continuing. “About my um… gender identity.”

The room grew quieter. Both Kai, Max, and Ray were aware the rest of the room picked up on the serious vibe and were listening in.

Max went to say something, but Kai continued.

“I know it’s more than what I want to wear, or makeup or nailpolish. Anyone can do that stuff... It’s more than that. That’s why I’ve been thinking so much.”

Max put both hands on Kai’s leg. Kai grinned.

“I think… I might be non-binary—” the room was quiet, “I’m not one-hundred percent sure but—”

Max cut him off, “it’s fine Kai.” Their face practically glowed from how proud Max was of Kai. “You don’t need to give us a list of reasons, we trust you.”

“Thanks.” Kai let a grin slip out.

“Wait, Kai, you’re gay!?” Kenny gasped.

“No...” Kai now worried that it was too soon.

“Kenny! Non-bnary is a gender thing not a sexuality thing!” Max educated his friend as best as possible in the short timeframe.

“Ooohhh , sorry.” Kenny blushed. “I’m not quite… on the gender train yet, but I’m trying.”

Kai gave Kenny a soft expression, “Thanks, Kenny. I appreciate it.”

Tyson turned around, Kai’s heart fell in his chest, “wait… So you’re not a boy, Kai?”

“What are your pronouns!” Max squealed over Tyson’s remark.

“Um.” Kai hadn’t really thought much about it, “like, anything really. He or them? I know you like them Max but I guess…”

“You don’t mind if we call you a boy?”

Kai shrugged, “I don’t feel like… dysphoric about it. Just that you guys know how I feel when you think about me… I think… that’s all I want.”

The room grew quiet for a moment. Max didn’t want to press the situation, but everyone had more questions.

“Do you experience a lot of gender dysphoria?” Max felt the sweat form in their palms, and relieved some of the pressure from Kai’s leg.

“Sometimes.” When Kai admitted it, he felt his shoulders become light. “But I think it really lines up with my trauma. That’s why… I’m still unsure. But I wanted you guys to know.”

“Thanks for telling us.” Ray patted his shoulder.

“I’m glad I did.”

Kai’s words rang through the dojo.

It was Tyson who got up first.

“Anyone want anything to drink? I’m going to go get a soda. Kai, you want anything?”

Kai was unsure what to think, he stared at Tyson, lost for an answer to a basic question.

“It’s not complicated. I’m not asking you to pick a gender or anything, just what to drink.” Tyson’s words seemed almost... angry.

Max ripped their hands away from Kai and spat towards Kai’s rival, “Tyson!”

“Whatever. I’ll get water I guess.” Tyson threw his hands in the air and left through the door outside.

“What is his fucking problem?” Max grimaced.

“He was never this upset when you came out.” Ray side eyed Max.

Ray and Max pushed themselves off the floor ready to go confront him. Kai got up, placing his arm in front of them.

“No, I think I should talk to him.”

Are you sure, Kai?” Ray wore a worried look.

“Yeah. It’s about time we talked.” Kai made his way to the door, opening it and sliding it shut behind him gently.

Outside the sun had just set. The backyard was veiled in twilight. The other side of the wooden deck across the gravel Tyson shut a door behind him, carrying a can and a bottle of water. Kai hopped off the dojo’s floorboards and felt the gravel crunch under his feet. He made his way to Tyson.

Tyson saw him, and sat on the edge. Letting his feet dangle while he looked over the yard as Kai approached him.

“What’s up?” Tyson raised his eyebrows and smiled sarcastically, then went back to a neutral expression.

“Are you okay?” Kai looked him up and down trying to find out what the problem was.

Tyson handed him the bottle of water with a friendly gesture. Kai took it, and unscrewed the cap, he chugged it.

Tyson opened the can, the only noise other than bugs and the slight splashing of fish in the pond.

“You know…” Tyson took a sip, “I like makeup, dresses, and nailpolish as much as the next guy. But I’m not like you guys.”

“That’s okay.” Kai sat beside him a few feet away. He leaned against one of the wooden beams, “we never said you had to be.”

Tyson scoffed slightly, “I get Max, I do. But you’re such a manly guy. Why?”

“It’s hard to explain if you haven’t felt it yourself but… It’s not just about wearing more… feminine things. There’s a mental aspect to it. And besides…”

Kai used his water bottle to gently bash it against Tyson’s leg, “I’m not that manly.”

“I’ve seen you in a suit…” Tyson shook his head while grinning.

Kai took a breath, “why does this upset you so much? You never had a problem when Max announced his gender reveal—”

“A thousand times.” Tyson finished his sentence.

They both laughed.

A few insects jumped off the pond and reflected the setting sun in their fluttering wings.

“Why does this upset you so much?”

“First of all, I’m not upset. You can do anything you need to do, Kai.”

“If you’re not upset, then what are you?”

Tyson gave him his full attention, the eye contact made Kai’s hair stand on end.

Tyson wasn’t answering, so Kai continued, “I’m still the same person I’ve always been. Nothing has changed, but now I can be more comfortable, and true to who I am.”

“I know that, and I’m proud of you.” Tyson shook the can in circles with one hand.

Kai was starting to lose patience now, “so what the hell is up?!”

“Nothing.” Tyson avoided the question while staring into the distance.

“There’s got to be something if you’re acting like this—so what the hell?”

“It’s fine, Kai. Let’s just forget about it—”

“No.”

Kai was stern, making sure to stay true to his emotional truth.

“Excuse me?” Tyson layed down the can with a loud thud.

Kai threw the water bottle beside him, still holding on to it, his whole body stood still in a white anger.

“You’ve been picking on everything I’ve been doing lately, pointing out every change, in my personality or appearance. You’ve been hypersensitive to me changing, now you have to tell me why!”

Kai’s intense words made Tyson raise his voice louder.

“Because! It’s so annoying! I was so confident in my sexuality but now—if you’re not a boy then I guess that doesn’t make me fully gay like I thought and now I have more soul searching to do! And that pisses me off!”

They challenged each other for a moment, until… Tyson noticed what he said, he could feel his face going red, and he drank out of the can while turning away trying to hide his expression.

Kai wasn’t sure if he heard him right, but what else could he have meant?

“Tyson…”

“Shut up.”

Kai let go of the bottle, it fell and rolled away from them, ignoring it he pulled himself closer to Tyson.

Tyson leaned away, his body felt like it was on fire out of embarrassment, he just wanted to turn and run.

“You don’t have to put yourself in a box. Just live. Figure it out as you go. That’s what I’m doing.”

Kai’s voice was—as always, honey to Tyson’s ears. Tyson shivered, unsure what to do or say.

“It’s alright, Tyson.” Kai wore no expression, but Tyson knew everything he wanted to express.

Tyson stared down at his blue and red nails, smiling at the colour choice.

“I’m proud of you for telling us about your gender Kai… and I’ll support you anyway I can.”

“Thanks, Tyson. That means everything to me.”

#This was fun!#ressyfaerie #fic #ask

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mysanderssidessideblog · 3 years ago

Text

A Good Day

Warnings for Sides fading out, major character death, unsympathetic Patton, angst, gaslighting, not a happy ending.

Written for #UnsympAndAngstSidesBingo

Link to AO3

“I'm very disappointed in you kiddo.”

Janus looked up from his book, frowning.

True, he knew his occasional appearance in the Lightside was not exactly welcome, but he had been slowly trying to help the others acclimatise to his presence by sitting quietly with a book from time to time.

He'd even carefully set out a tea set and biscuits this time, rather than his usual tea for one, making a subtle gesture that he was open to company. So far, none had taken him up on the offer.

Yet, he could not fathom source of Patton's discontent. He was trying, and short of dragging Virgil out by his ear to reluctantly sit with him, he was not sure what more he could do.

“Patton. Will you not join me?” Janus had learnt that the use of the word 'not' had evolved to ambiguous meaning; 'I could care less' tended to be treated the same as 'I could not care less', even if the wording was inaccurate. As a result, he leaned heavily into the word to help mask his lies.

“No.”

Morality's face, usually lit up with a bright smile, was stern.

Janus pursed his lips, and feigned indifference. “As you like.”

“You had one job, and you have failed.”

That took him aback, Patton not usually so confrontational. lowering his book, Janus schooled his expression into neutrality, opting for addressing the accusation in a calm and civil manner. He inclined his head so that he appeared interested in what Patton had to say, while opening his stance to appear receiving to discussion.

“I am not sure I follow. Please, help me understand.”

“You were to keep the undesirable elements of Thomas hidden, secret. You were supposed to stay away, out of sight, out of mind.”

“Ah.” Janus straightened, and clutched at his book, trying to hide the hurt from his voice. He had thought he and Patton had reached something of a truce, that Patton had seen that he had some merit in being known, in being active participant in the mindscape.

“I believe we agreed that repression was not of benefit. That I could keep things hidden, but it would be best for Thomas to be more self-aware, to learn that he had sides to him that were not always...” Janus struggled for an appropriate word, “...good.” he finished lamely.

It was hard to argue with Morality; he held great power and influence, and his view of the world was parsed down into good and evil. Janus sought to teach him of the deeper complexities, but Patton was reluctant to even consider than lying could have small benefit in theory, so the idea of applying small untruths to day to day happenings was unthinkable to him.

“It is not working. Thomas is more stressed than ever with so many conflicting opinions, and then there is Remus! He is disgusting, and vile, and Thomas does not need him and his corrupting presence!”

“And don't think I have not noticed Logan's more regular angry outbursts. The influence of the dark sides has gotten out of hand, and must be corrected.”

Janus was glad of his gloves that hid how white his knuckles had turned with how tightly he held the book. He swallowed nervously.

“Patton, I understand that this is a time of change, and that change can be daunting, even uncomfortable. However, change is important for growth, for improved insight. This will help Thomas become a better person, eventually.”

“Thomas was already perfect before the dark sides came along! Things were better before!”

Patton's face then broke into a smile.

Janus did not like that smile, not in the slightest.

“Maybe that is answer.....”

He was about to get to his feet, about to retreat, when Patton walked towards him.

“You could not keep the dark contained.” he said, as the air around them grew dense. Janus felt uneasy, as Patton's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “So I guess it's a father's duty to step in when a Kiddo has failed....”

Janus did try to get up then, but found himself held down by Patton by a hand upon his shoulder, surprisingly strong.

“You'll help me, won't you Kiddo? Help me fix up your little mistake...?”

“I don't understand Patton, what are you talking about?”

“You, and Remus, all the dark sides, are a bad influence on Thomas.” Patton then stretched his lips wider, his face a rictus parody of a smile, “It's high time someone did something about that....”

Janus shook his head. “Patton, you cannot just deny that Thomas has dark sides to him, same as everyone! We are just as much a part of him as you are!” he lifted his hand, tried to push Patton from him. He could not make Patton's hand budge at all.

“Thomas needs us. Needs all of us!”

Patton's grip shifted, instead of holding Janus down, curling his fingers past the fabric and into the flesh underneath, so tight Janus felt like Patton was reaching to leave fingerprints upon his bones.

“No. Thomas needs to be good.” Patton gave a short nod to himself. “Thomas will be good.”

Janus cried out, in pain, in fear.

“Let me go!”

“I can't do that Kiddo. See, if I'm gonna make everything right again, I'll need to borrow just a tiny bit of your power.”

“You can hide things, and I have high influence over nostalgia and memories. I think that if we really put our minds to it and work together, we can hide the memories of the dark sides so deep that they will never be thought of again!”

“Patton, Thomas needs all aspects of him. He needs to understand that others have the capacity to lie so he is not taken advantage of. He needs the ability to get angry when things are not right so he can sort it out.” “He even needs Remus, the core of his jokes that are a little crude, a little naughty....” “You cannot just.... delete those vital pieces of him; that way lies madness!”

“You are one to talk about lies mister!”

“OK, OK, I have lied, and will likely do so again, but you have been told that repression doesn't work... that didn't come from me, but Logan. And you trust Logan, right?”

Patton tipped his head, thoughtful.

“Hmm. Good point.”

Janus sagged slightly, relieved he had managed to get through to Morality.

“I guess we'll just have to remove the the dark sides entirely!” he said brightly.

Janus froze, unbelieving. If it had been anyone other than Patton, he'd have accused them of a off-tone joke..... but Patton wasn't lying.

“I will help you!” he snarled, shaking his head, the lie unsubtle and obvious.

Tutting, Patton looked down.

“If you are not part of the solution, then it seems to me you are part of the problem...”

Patton's hand clawed, and Janus felt something creak within his shoulder.

He felt Patton tug at his influence, and thrashed and fought to keep what he was whole. He hissed and bore his teeth as if he might bite.

The hand across his throat stilled him, surprised, shocked that Patton would do such a thing.

“Stop fighting me, I know what's best for Thomas.”

“I will not help you destroy the dark sides!”

Patton's grip, both on shoulder and throat tightened in irritation. Janus struggle to fight back, to even draw breath, but Morality held much more sway than he did, and he could not break free.

He struggled, cursing himself for dismissing Patton as native and weak. Janus knew he was merely stalling for time, that Patton would eventually win. There was a small hope that one of the others might happen upon them and intervene, but he was not well liked, and he did not trust that another side would not work with Patton against him.

Patton looked down over his glasses, considering, and Janus desperately tried to stop Patton from draining his power, his essence.

Patton's grip round his throat relaxed, and Janus drew desperate and painful breath.

It took him a moment to realise that Patton was stroking against the side of his neck, affectionately. “You have an affinity for self-preservation, yes? Give me your power, willingly, and I shall let you survive.”

His mismatched eyes widened as Janus took in how very serious and set on this course of action Patton was.

Terror gripped him as the fingers round his neck tightened again, and he feared for his life.

A better side would have stood up for what was right.

A stronger side would have fought harder.

A clever side would have found the words to make Patton reconsider.

But Janus was a selfish side.

Weakly, he nodded.

Janus tried to cry out as Patton syphoned his strength and his power, but he could only hiss which what remained of his breath. His gloves and cape leached their colour, turning dull and grey as Patton stole from him.

He did not hold out much hope that Patton would ever return what he had taken.

When it was done, Patton released Janus, standing tall and confident, radiating energy.

“You made the right choice. Well done kiddo.”

Janus, sagged in the chair, tired. He managed to bring his head up to look at Patton.

“Patton, wait...” he managed to say, each word needing so much effort to utter than before, lie or not, “Please take a moment to think.. to reflect... You would be interfering beyond your realm of expertise. Do not do this!”

“Oh my silly little snake!” Patton leaned down to plant a fond kiss upon Janus's forehead. “It's already done!”

“What? No!” Janus clutched at the chair, as if it might hold him steady against this new revelation.

“All those nasty bits that Thomas doesn't need are already disappearing from thought. If you wanted to say your goodbyes, I would hurry. They are fading fast.”

One thought came to mind.

“Remusssss!” he hissed, and with a lurch, Janus swung himself downwards, sinking through the floor.

He landed in a landscape in disarray, the features of the darkside twisting and fragmenting, everything coming apart.

Remus was there, trying to shore up a crack in the wall with what looked like a mix of blood and cement.

“Snake-butt! Something's happening. Something's wrong!” he hollered over the low groan of the mindscape rejecting the dark.

Janus looked about in despair, only to see Remus staring at him, the crack beyond repair and stretching out. Horrifically, Janus could see the crack behind Remus, as the darker creativity grew translucent and hazy.

“My head feels fuzzy like mould on a birthday cake, and what's up with you? You've gone all grey.”

“It's Patton, he is not unmaking the dark side!” even in desperate times, Janus could not speak truthfully.

“What does that even mean?!”

Remus's voice was strange, softer as if he was shouting from a distance, but that did not hide the fact that he was scared. Janus could not ever recall Remus sounding scared.

Janus looked to him, halfway transparent and afraid, and the surrounding walls crumbling apart.

He forced a smile.

“Everything will be all right.” he lied, as he reached over and wrapped his arms round Remus, so the other would not see the tears in his eyes.

The sounds of unmaking crescendoed about them, and then, grew quiet.

Remus, and the darkside, and all that it contained faded to black... no, not black.....

Nothingness.

*********

Janus had had to claw his way back from the nothingness, drawing on what little power he had left.

He shouldn't have made it, should have faded out with the rest, but Morality's promise of his own unworthy survival held true.

The effort of returning to the lightside caused him to stumble, and he landed gracelessly in the common area.

Logan, writing down something in a note book, looked up. He gave curt nod.

“Janus.” he acknowledged, and then returned to his writing.

“Logan!” Janus hissed out, struggling to his feet.

Logan looked again, and adjusted his glasses at the sight of Janus bereft of his usual colouration.

“You have a new outfit. It is... monochromatic.”

“Do not summon the others. It's not important!”

Logan frowned, “If it is of such little import, then why can you not do it?”

Hands clenched weakly at his sides, Janus swayed where he stood.

“I can!” he lied, and then cursed himself for not speaking clearly as Logan stood back expectantly.

It did not take long for Logan to realise that Janus was making no move to call the others to them.

“Oh. You are lying.” Logan's lips tightened, “Very well.”

Roman rose with a flourish, and Virgil popped up sitting on the stairs.

“Patton has not done something terrible!” Janus started, then caught himself. He took a breath.

“Patton has done something terrible. He has destroyed the darkside, and all those still connected to it.”

Virgil frowned in thought, “I thought I felt something weird... ”

“Or it could have just been your usual constant worry of something about to go wrong.” Logan reminded, to which Virgil gave reluctant nod.

“Even if that were true, which I very much doubt it is coming from you, then why are you still here?” Roman asked, sceptical.

“I....” Janus swallowed his pride and spoke aloud his grievous mistake. “I made a deal with him to survive.”

“but he took my power, and used it to unmake the darkside!”

“Patton wouldn't do something like that.” Roman said confidently.

“Patton wouldn't do something like what?”

Janus pulled back as Patton approached, smiling cheerfully.

“Janus thinks you have done something bad.” Logan explained.

“Are you sure you didn't mishear him that I've done something 'Dad'?”

Janus snarled.

“You destroyed them, all the dark sides! Pieces of Thomas, ripped apart and gone!”

Patton laughed, “As if I would do anything to hurt dear Thomas!

Roman and Logan nodded with Patton, that of the two, Patton was far more trust-worthy than Deceit.

“Anyway, Thomas doesn't have dark sides, save for you....” Janus did not like the way Patton looked at him, as if he was nothing but another problem that needed 'fixing'. He shuddered.

Patton continued, “But don't worry, we'll all help you find your place and learn to be good! Just like Virgil!”

Virgil gave an uncomfortable shrug at being pointed out.

Janus turned to Roman, desperate, “Roman, your twin! He is... he is gone Roman!! Patton killed him!”

“My brother?” Roman frowned, and reached to the back of his head to rub against a fragment of a memory.

He looked to Patton for guidance, deeply confused.

“Don't be silly, you don't have a brother.”

Roman's hand dropped, and he shrugged at Janus. “I don't even have a brother. Don't speak such lies Snake!”

“You did! His name is... is... was.....”

Janus's eyes widened in horror, as he could not bring the name to mind.... nor the face....

Patton had not just destroyed the dark sides, but he had erased even the memories of them. How could Janus convince them of Patton's misdeed, when he had cleared every scrap of evidence from the mindscape?

How long before Janus himself forgot what Patton had done?

He lunged then at Patton, furious. He was stopped by Logan's arm easily blocking him and pushing him to the side.

Patton folded his arms, face full of fake concern.

“I was merciful before, but I think you need a time out Janus. Go to your room. In fact, I think it would be for the best if you were to stay there for the time being, and stop telling such terrible lies.”

“Roman, be a dear and take Janus to his room for me.”

“Sure thing Pat!”

As Janus let himself be led away, disbelieved and defeated, and destined to forget what he was and be moulded into whatever Patton deemed acceptable form of Deceit, Janus heard Patton address the other sides.

“Oh Kiddos, I'm just so happy! I have a feeling today is going to be a good day!”

#unsympandangstsidesbingo #unsympathetic sides #unsympathetic patton #angst #unhappy ending #major character death

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kaetastic · 4 years ago

Text

LINGERING EYES

pairing: Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Reader

summary: The Peaky Blinders spend their night at a ball, however, Isaiah notices the wandering eyes of other men on the second youngest Shelby.

word count: 3.5k

warning: slightly nsfw ?? jealousy, mention of blood, mention of violence, language

note: I loved writing this one! The flow was so smooth and I couldn’t stop writing, so here it is! I was hit with inspiration after checkin’ out some prompts (i saw them on pinterest so i don’t know who’s the original blog, if it’s you please dm me 🥺)

“Take my coat.”

White— pearly beads of opal tears were poked through with a piercing needle. The bawling drops of clams drooped from the yellow ceiling, hanging low as gravity clung onto the strands. While shuffling of polished shoes screeched into the air, ear-drumming squeals from yanked corks paced to overlap obnoxious laughs. The laughs worthed grands; the laugh of slithering serpents.

Despite the approaching night, there was no heaviness resting upon the awaken eyes, which only led to the fact that they have tolerated and befriended the aspect of long nights. Long nights of claimed hard work. Long nights of staying at work late to complete the pending task, allegedly. Bitterly, the woman who strayed near the marble bar assumed, even though she knew she was right.

The lavish dress she wore that she plucked out of the most expensive rack in the store were no different than those women who were present. The women who had been dragged out from the comfort of their home to flutter a smile while they drowned in their husband’s gold, not knowing their mistress circled nearby. However, her privilege of wearing the fabric that was enough to feed a whole village was not the same as them. While it might not be her money, she knew that Thomas’s money was now as legitimate as the rest, despite the fluttering rumours weaving from mouth to ears.

Y/N grew up on streets that reeked of feculent piss and mud as face-paint. They, on the other hand, were nurtured by a maid, money already swimming in their bloodstreams while their parents spent days on end overseas.

‘You’re not a Peaky, Y/N.’ As the tornado in her champagne flute swirled, she glared at the red wine with irritated eyes. Despite her hating the proper way of holding the glass which was as posh as it could be, she reminded herself to where she was and who breathed in the same room as her. Recalling the talk she sat with her older sister who believed that the woman shouldn’t even bother to relieve her presence to the party, Y/N beamed her eyes at the smearing grey against the whites of the marble counter. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the destiny the Shelby’s will be cursed by, but heartfelt conversations were rare. The woman needed to get it out of her chest. She needed to tell her older sister the lingering eyes when she would walk down the streets. The elderly knew of the tainted reputation of the Shelby’s name, the main theme of the conversations whispered behind their backs. ‘No, but I’m a Shelby.’

That’s what she’ll always be. Just a Shelby. Not the woman who struggled through the obstacles of maintaining a deaf ear to her colleagues who would whisper under their breaths about her and her background. No matter what curtain draped over her, she’ll be seen as the younger sister of a gangster. Gypsy Shelby. Carnival wanderers. Y/N, the woman who sipped on wine in the dress of the same colour, will forever be known as Birmingham’s Infamous Gangster’s Little Sister.

Y/N was no longer the giggling child who swam through mud; she was no longer the girl with dangling tooths who hid her older brothers’ socks under her bed. Even Arthur, the eldest, has admitted how times have changed. Sitting on the stool was a woman, not a girl. A woman with cold, crystal eyes of a smeared cerulean blue that can only be glistened at a certain angle of light, a woman who had been prize hung upon the fair’s walls for men who were up to the challenge- that was until they heard of her last name. Unless they were cowards, they tiptoed away with the utmost silent steps. It was barely a handful of men who found the challenge of swooning the woman to be entertaining.

However, to be in radar with the Peaky Blinders themselves; to be in their loyal, trusted ranks, Isaiah Jesus just couldn’t find a fuck to give. There had been countless times he had seen eyes grazing over her figure, ogling her as if a taunting piece of meat. Would he be different to their scandalous actions? No, because he would do the same. The man just had a more discreet manner of observation. People with a name and money to flaunt might’ve shoved him to the edge since deep down, he knew that he’ll never be like them. But, at the end of the day, who was deep in her while she breathlessly screamed out?

“What?” Once her eyes peeled away from the intense rolling of liquid in her champagne flute, she shot a perplexed glance at the iconic oversized coat he would constantly wear. It seemed the memo to wear different had not reached the man. Her orbs glimpsed back to his face as if he had gone mental. The room had a barely noticeable breeze of wind that only kissed those who strayed next to the golden, colossal windows.

“I said take my coat.” Isaiah repeated, arm extending, urging the woman to take it.

There was no jest in his eyes. Isaiah wasn’t playing around, “It’s fucking hot in here.” There weren’t any trails of sweat visible on the woman, but there were beads of them crawling down her back. It seeped down through the minuscule crack of space between the velvet dress and her glossy back. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the same case for those who did not handle well with heat as some elderly men incessantly wiped their foreheads with their lavish cloth.

“Just fucking take it.” Isaiah didn’t mean to take another glance, but he did. Accidentally. The group of vigilant observing eyes did not quiver from the pair, well, it was mostly attached to the woman who was sipping on the red wine. However, the closeness of Isaiah and the Shelby had brought alarming thoughts in their heads. There wasn’t a plan so it wjasn’t part of it, it was more of an impulsive act of decision when one of them shot up from the seat.

In the corner of Isaiah’s eyes was a blur of an approaching figure, increasing in size. The pace was casual, gait relaxed with his hands tucked in the pocket of his waistcoat. A haze of shimmering gold sparkled, the intensity of the blaring reflection multiplied by a tenfold.

“I’m gonna suffocate, I can’t breathe already.” Y/N scoffed, mouth finding solace in the half-drunk wine.

With every step, Isaiah’s eyes wavered back onto the woman. A fire burnt in his chest, no, it roared behind his eyes as fury dumped a barrel of petrol into the growing rage. Doubts settled in. Was it truly rage? Or was he scooting around the idea of jealousy? Before his head caught a glimpse of his peripheral, his hands were already chained around Y/N’s wrist. A satisfied smirk crept up on his lips when the figure halted in his steps. Watching the woman he was about to approach thrash in the man’s grip, he gawked.

“Isaiah!” Although eyes were darted towards the catastrophic scene, Isaiah didn’t bat an eye, head too blurry with satisfaction. Y/N with ajar opened mouth was yanked away from her barely finished wine. It tasted rich. A privilege she had been surrounded with only recently. “What the fuck was that?”

Once he managed to drag her into a hallway of stacked barrels, he finally noticed the dripping beads of tears from the leaking metal pipe. As teardrops descended from the sobbing pipe, it puddled on the miniature lake. The hallway felt exposed to the frosty night of London. A breeze of the chilly air overflowed through the cracked open hopper windows.

Not too long ago Y/N was clamouring with the pungent odour, now, she was sure the secretion had become icicles, frozen. Isaiah wasn’t so different, his shoulders remained in the stance of shock. After yanking her hand out of his grasp, the dishevelled woman beamed at the man. His flared nose was tinted red. While he pressed his lips shut, the echoing noise of the bawling pipe trickled in to fill in the pregnant silence.

An exasperated sigh fell off his lips, “They were fucking you with their eyes.” Blinking in disbelief, she let out a scoff. The reason he had dragged her was because people were looking at her? Well, fucking her with their eyes?

“So what? And who the fuck are you to bother?” Isaiah’s jaw ticked. How was he to answer? The man himself didn’t know how to reply. Thoughts resounded off his head, springing from one side to the other as he tried his best to think of an answer. There was fire roaring in his chest. A flicker of blue plastered across the dancing red canvas. It burned hotter than a summer’s day, flaring scorches of heat than heatwaves when one would stray around the furnace who had been chugged by boulders of dusty coal. But actions speak louder than words. As his eyes flickered to meet hers, the flame on the candle died with a blow of air.

Isaiah was fired up, chest taut, fingers clenched, ready to hurl it in their faces’. It all vanished. The anger, the fire, the stirred up hurricane, it all wiped off from existence. Her hair that was once a coiled perfection which was a result of an hour of refining each and every lock, had become a wild, untamed bunch. It was no different to that of her hairstyle she would wear in the creaking morning after an exhausting night of moans and groans. The pearl necklace that draped down her neck sat on her shoulder, clumping up a rubble even though it hung above her cleavage a few minutes ago.

Frigid bites of the brick wall pierced into her skin. The bleeding words that rested on her tongue were exhaled into a familiar warm mouth. Long forgotten, the coat he could’ve used for defence to crawl out of the fancy ball to protect him from the chilly night, puddled into the ground. A groan grumbled out of his lips to puff into her moaning ones; although, Isaiah wasn’t sure if it was because his coat would be the absorbing cloth, soon to be drenched by the unknown liquid from the pipe, or it was because her wide open legs had curled around his hip.

There were no words exchanged, only wanton moans and guttural groans. The world around them faded into black and white before it all was swirled in a hazy blur. The tiles of the mosaic painting were soon plucked out. The world didn’t exist, just each other. There weren’t any irregular singing notes of the pipe, no blowing of wind into the cracked orifices and no boisterous thrumming of heart in their ears. It was just each other's breathing and their fingers rustling faint noises of caress.

An exhalation rolled out of her chest to gush out into the tensed air. Air that was once struck with chords of anger and jealousy, but now, it was trickling with need and lust. Knocking the back of her head into the wall, the gaps between her fingers were spurting of his curly locks. The piercing cones smeared over the brick walls embedded into her skin. If his mouth wasn’t planting bruises on her skin, it would’ve hurt a lot more.

“Saiah... fuck, no hickeys...” Stuttering between heavy breathing which was from the nipping of his teeth on her skin below her ears, Y/N finally managed to breathe out the words. Although it had been an unspoken rule which was brought up only once (the first time they fucked), Isaiah couldn’t give a fuck. To have the Shelby’s as a boss, Isaiah had somewhat familiarized himself with the gears spinning in their heads while he watched them work on the field. Not Thomas Shelby, never Thomas Shelby. The man was impossible to see through, just like the murky canals of Birmingham. If his siblings had not succeeded in reading his mind, what miracle did he possess if he could do so?

So it was no wonder the pair had not taken the risk of overlooked details such as markings on their necks to be seen. There was one thing Y/N could do when having scandalous ties with her brother’s employee, and that was to be one step ahead of any of them. Preferably Thomas Shelby. It was the least she could do. Nights when Isaiah would climb through her windows, she would complain about the aching in her stomach beforehand. Although, that plan nearly blew up on her face as Polly had incessantly banged on her door to check up on her paining niece. Oh, how they all would’ve lost their shit if they knew Isaiah was deep in her, thrusting his hips with lust before her aunt lingered outside her door.

Y/N always pondered to how everyone would react to their relationship. Relationship? There never was an appropriate time where the two sat down to discuss the fire sparking between them. Even though she had tried to bring it up at points, it always led her to a moaning mess. The pair had scooted around the topic, ignoring its existence. But for how long? The stunt Isaiah had pulled back not too long ago was of pure jealousy, the feeling of someone else eyeing something of his. It was not something he had felt before, ever.

Pulling his lips away, his eyes grazed over the masterpiece he had painted. Streaks of red trailed across the side of her neck in peculiar directions. While Isaiah admired his prominent markings, Y/N noted the curled up corners of his lips and his gazing eyes on the scene. Oh, she was too late. Worried if her brothers were to see Isaiah’s branding, formulas were scribbled in her head. All she had to do was avoid everyone, Finn and Arthur especially if she didn’t want a wildfire to burn. Finn who was still a babe had curious eyes and quick fluttering lips, Arthur on the other hand just had an agile tongue and a rock as a fist. If one of them was to even peek a glance at the hickey, the news would’ve crossed the other side of England. Ada was easy to avoid as the woman was not present at the party; however, Y/N could not imagine her never-ending rambling. Knowing her older sister, she was sure it would lead to pregnancy and stubborn questions about the mysterious guys.

The trio of Thomas, John and Polly was one to keep in mind. Y/N herself wasn’t sure why she had grouped the three together, but she knew they had one thing in common. Merciless. She wasn’t sure how it would proceed if one of them was to gaze upon the marking; she never wanted to see it happen. While the woman who had a painted canvas on her neck was concerned with future issues to which she hoped she would never have to stumble upon, Isaiah was a smirking mess. The thought of them seeing the art he had created flicked a lighter to his gun powder. Once his eyes grazed over her shut ones and her lips pecking of silent mumbling, he let out a sigh. The woman was overthinking again. The noise of her saliva smacking on her swollen lips only made sense to her head as she went over the whole plan. Avoid, avoid and avoid. Isaiah’s eyes brushed upon her smeared lipstick, he wouldn’t be surprised if some made way on his lips.

Her train of words halted once a warm thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Although scribblings of words jotted in her head, nothing made sense as Isaiah’s lips were on hers once again. The layers of planning and never-ending what-ifs vanished, wiped from her head to be buried deep underneath the bedding of soil. Back splayed against the wall and legs around his hip, Isaiah’s fingers trailed down to clutch on her thighs, nudging the stubborn hem of her dress up, coiling it in a bunch. Tongues caressing one another while strings of wanton moaning brushed down the bristles of their throats, everything was long forgotten. There was no Thomas Shelby. There was no Peaky Blinders. Just the two of them.

“What the actual fuck.” With the familiar straining voice echoing through the narrow hallway, the feeling of need vaporized. Heat that was once beaming through their chest seeped into the air, dancing in the wind. The glass bottle in his hands shattered. Piercing shards of glass embedded into his skin, slashing through his blood vessels, but he could see nothing but red. Snapping the neck of the bottle into millions of fragments, Arthur no longer cared the good chug of whiskey he wanted to have away from all the lying cunts. Tonight was full of people who had dollar signs in their eyes while they grasped onto leashes around those who needed to pay back stacks of cash. More than fucking enough. If Arthur heard any of their voice, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So, when Arthur decided to pull away from the crowd to enjoy even the crappiest stench of whatever the fuck liquified the soil that smeared along the bricks, he did not expect to see a Peaky boy’s tongue down his little’s sister throat. Even though the eldest Shelby wasn’t in many conversations (there was no need to ponder that all they wanted was Thomas’s cock), he barely noticed the disappearance of the second youngest Shelby, most likely because he was too focused on maintaining the position of his curled fists which were stuffed deep in his coat’s pocket. Despite him yanking out his red, thrumming hand multiple of times, a glare from Thomas was enough to remind him of the lingering eyes.

Feet descending down the wall, Y/N’s eyes didn’t blink once as she stared at the abrupt appearance of her eldest brother. Well, fuck. Fuck the plan. Fuck avoiding. Because the future she didn’t want ever was now, “Arthur.”

Without a word uttered between the two, a distance increased with every shove down their throats. Arthur Shelby was here. Arthur Shelby saw the son of the man he trusted pinned his little sister to the wall. Eyes were lassoed, ropes were thrown around, yanking stammering thoughts. Arthur’s eyes that were popped out of his eye socket did not quiver from Isaiah’s figure. The smear of red against the boy’s lips and his dishevelled waistcoat was enough for Arthur to go mental. Isaiah wasn’t sure how he felt. There was a jolt of inhumane voltage zapping through his heart before a snip of a scissor prevented it to ever be alive again.

The man whose face oozed of litres of blood was a victim of whatever lurked under Arthur Shelby’s skin. If Isaiah wasn’t there to notice his motionless body, he couldn’t give a fuck, but he was. He saw men struggle to hold Arthur’s thrashing body back. The devil they called it. The plunging noise descending his throat and into the green lake in his gut trickled through Isaiah’s ears. He was dead meat, “Arthur, it’s not what it looks like- I can explain.”

“Fucking not what it looks like?” Although the eldest Shelby stood at the other end of the hallway, his booming voice was as if he was right in front of them. Wavering the cracked neck of the whiskey glass, furious spit gushed out of his lips. Hair curtained to flare up, the man was beaming with steam. “Fucking explain why you looked like you were about to fuck Isaiah!”

Speckled soil shivered from its land to rest upon the ground. The ground the building sat upon shook, shaking the glass panes to send raining shards of glass across the marble floor. Thomas stepped down the stairs. Seconds ago, the man was under the ceiling of solid gold, now, he was under dripping tainted water that pecked his shoulders. His face was unreadable although a twitch of his jaw gave away the underlying anger, “One fucking day, Arthur, you couldn’t give me one fucking day of silence?”

Trailing behind him was John and Finn who were laughing at an obnoxious joke uttered by the youngest himself, something about his boxers ending up on the street. It fell into silence. Despite the warning Thomas had incessantly, stubbornly pressed on his accompanies of the night, a part of him had already predicted this was to happen. There was hope. There was hope that the night might’ve flown pass smoothly without a bump over the road. And then there was reality. Awry reality never resembled the plans in Thomas’s head. However, there was a second he had missed in his life. A second was forgotten, jumped over to the next beat of his heart. He didn’t need many words from the blood gushing out of Arthur’s curled fist and the mussed hair of the pair.

Well, there goes the plan. Out the fucking window it was. With a cigarette sighing on his lips, he gestured, “Go ahead. Talk.”

Maybe Y/N should’ve listened to Ada.

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