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seresinhangmanjake · 9 months ago

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Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked.

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.

“Hold on Angel,” he says.

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum.

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin x you

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cloudysonder · 11 months ago

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15! mafia! soukoku getting together before 5 years of tension challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

ok so I don't think I need another WIP on my plate but i can't stop thinking about them so I'm gonna write a hella long fic outline for a hypothetical fic I might've written in a different timeline

This is a half canon compliant half Chuuya leaves the mafia with Dazai AU, with a focus on their powers + how it affects them

Chuuya struggles with his identity and his agency bc of Arahabaki sharing his body, and combats it by trying to be as kind and giving as possible-- it's a way of proving to himself that these decisions are his, not Arahabaki's, because Arahabaki would never choose to be kind. As a result, he gives himself to others too easily, creating a tension of giving up agency/identity in order to prove that he has agency/identity

he does this with the sheep and then with the port mafia, where he eventually meets dazai

dead apple happens

Chuuya thinks the guy is actually the biggest asshole maybe in the universe, but begrudgingly accepts that his power is very useful and they make a good team (you would have to actually waterboard this out of him)

Dazai deems Chuuya his dog, and when Chuuya gets pissed and keeps pestering him abt how patronizing it is, Dazai responds lightly, as if he's saying that the sky is blue,

"Oh please. You were a dog long before I called you one--" Dazai doesn't even bother having the decency to look at Chuuya before ripping his life apart. "--eager to be on a leash and be taken on walks if it meant that it pissed off the wolf inside you. I just have the manners to actually call it a leash."

it isn't the first nor the last time that chuuya wants to kill him, but he can't deny Dazai's right (he usually is, infuriatingly)

He still hits him with a boulder

they build up trust over multiple months-- Dazai begins to believe in Chuuya's competence and skill (enough to relax on missions, because chuuya will take care of things, chuuya will catch the things I miss, and chuuya will catch me if I fall), and Chuuya will follow whatever order Dazai gives, no questions asked (He never steers chuuya wrong, never betrays him in a way that matters, never hurts him in a way that lasts-- usually people would've by now, but not Dazai-- he just annoys him and pranks him and thrashes him in video games, casually saying things about chuuya that are so on the nose that chuuya doesn't feel seen through, but seen)

chuuya goes on a mission that he's supposed to lead himself, and dazai tags along bc he's "on vacation" (healing from broken bones) and bored and knows that chuuya wouldn't let him get more hurt

there's a critical point in the mission where chuuya has to make a decision-- either to jump into the battle and hurt himself to save his subordinates, even if it means the mission wouldn't be completed successfully, or to let them die, guaranteeing success

He doesn't know what Arahabaki would choose, and he's terrified of choosing the same option it would-- he doesn't want to think that he's slowly turning into Arahabaki, that Chuuya one day will be no longer--

Dazai knows. Dazai always knows.

A warm hand envelops his.

The familiar shiver of No Longer Human blankets over him.

"It's your choice, Chuuya." Dazai is looking directly at him, serious for once. "No one else is here now."

And Chuuya, simple, stupid Chuuya, feels the tension he's known his whole life leave him completely-- and what was left?

Oh.

The sun catches on Dazai's brown hair, beautiful even dusted with concrete powder and dried blood--

Fuck.

His hand is warm, his body is still, so trusting, his eyes are unblinking, so knowing--

And Chuuya falls irreversibly in love.

There's no real hiding it from Dazai (nor is there really a "normal" way that Chuuya can act anymore, knowing that he had the capacity, the capability for love)-- Chuuya tries for a while, but Dazai keeps staring at him with calculating eyes, suspicious and uncomfortable with whatever Chuuya is hiding from him

He pesters Chuuya constantly, making infuriating guesses about crushes (fucking Mori??? Chuuya wanted to kill Dazai for even suggesting it) and Chuuya's had enough of trying to escape who he is (which his feelings are tied to, unfortunately)

So, slowly, he lets himself show the affection he wants to-- a brush of hands, a hold on Dazai that's a little too tight when they lean on each other, a patching up of wounds that's a little gentler, a dinner of crab soup and rice that he took hours to learn how to cook---

Dazai stops pestering Chuuya pretty quickly after that

(He also never pulls away when Chuuya presses in, never comments on it, acts as if he doesn't know and doesn't care, and Chuuya finds some twisted sort of relief in that)

He's also become fiercely protective of Dazai, working thrice as hard so that he never sustains a single injury bigger than a scratch

"Wow---, why's my dog so easily riled up recently?" (they both know why)

Dazai is his to protect, but his in no other way. Chuuya knows that. He turns away when he flirts with pretty girls and gives them his number, and still admonishes him with the same tone he always does when he fucks around with women instead of doing his job

Chuuya genuinely shrugs it off— he doesn't love Dazai for it to be returned— it's just a fact in his life— his hair is red, his eyes are blue, he loves Dazai. Fin. He doesn't need to be in a relationship with him, he doesn't need to own him, he just wants to keep Dazai safe, and make him happy where he can

Dazai, meanwhile, is actually having a conniption— He figured out that Chuuya had a crush on him pretty quickly, but he's the most lost he's ever been in his life

He's never been loved so gently before, so carefully, as if he's a unique existence and intrinsically worthy of love-- Chuuya doesn't use him, doesn't expect anything of him, just keeps giving giving giving giving

Fact: Dazai has always been useful. Fact: Dazai has always been desirable, but in a way that seems dangerous. Fact: Every person who's ever held desire for him seemed to want something in return, as payment for the chore of liking him.

He annoys Chuuya more than anyone he's ever met, and yet Chuuya never treats taking care of him as a chore. He looks into Chuuya's eyes, sees a strange sort of pride, of gratefulness for relying on him, of joy just from the act of indulging him--

He asks nothing of Dazai, nothing, content to hold his hand firmly while Dazai's remains limp, asking nothing nothing nothing, backing off the second Dazai starts to squirm (though, sometimes, Dazai was just adjusting his posture on the couch, he wasn't pulling away— but he'd rather die before he asked the dumb little garden gnome to put his head on his shoulder again)

Dazai has never been more confused in his life. He's only sure of three things: 1) that Chuuya’s affection is genuine, 2) that it is far too good for him, which is a shame because 3) he'll never be able to return it.

Months pass in this limbo state— Chuuya backs off the second Dazai shows Any sign of being uncomfortable (he isn’t, he never was, but he’s confused by the frustration that wells up inside whenever Chuuya mistakes one of his random movements as resistance, pulling away, leaving Dazai oddly lonel—)

They usually don’t get hurt on missions— in all visible aspects, they’re perfect partners; Dazai’s plans don’t fail, and Chuuya never disappoints

But Mori thinks they’ve been a little too full of themselves recently, that they might benefit from a little humility, so he sends them straight into a trap

Chuuya drinks water from a safehouse that Mori arranged to have drugged

His vision goes blurry, fast

He tugs at Dazai, who’s keeping guard, blinking rapidly

“What, slug? Have you forgotten how sleeping works—“

“Dazai,” he chokes out.

Dazai snaps into focus, scanning Chuuya immediately.

“What happened?” Dazai doesn’t understand why panic is rushing through his veins, watching his partner struggle for breath. “Chuuya, breathe—“

“Don’t,” he strangles out, the word barely a whisper. “Don’t drink the water, something’s—“ Chuuya’s body seizes.

“Chuuya!” Dazai grabs him by the shoulders, and he’s surprised by how terribly his own hands are shaking— he can’t lose him, he can’t lose him, not him, not him, he’s never felt this strongly about the possibility of loss before, but he can’t lose Chuuya, he Can’t lose Chuuya, not the warm hands that hold his own, not the soft hair that buries into his neck, not the way his body always seems to fall into his, utterly trusting, not him, please god, not him, not the boy who loves him— he knows he doesn’t love Chuuya back, but he can’t lose Chuuya—

He brings Chuuya to his chest, preparing to make him throw up—

A bullet tears through Dazai’s arm.

Another one, seconds later, through his leg.

Dazai hisses in pain, grabbing his gun from his pocket

He’s not the best sharpshooter in the mafia for nothing— he shoots into the distance and hears both bullets hit their marks— he’s listening for the sound of two bodies falling—

A third gunshot rings from behind, and Dazai isn’t going to be fast enough to dodge it in time, fuck, but he can shift so it hits some non critical part of his body—

Shaking arms shove him to the ground

Dazai thinks the sound of the bullet burying itself into Chuuya’s body is going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Chuuya’s warm blood is soaking into his lap, and Dazai’s vision begins to turn red at the edges

He uses more bullets than necessary to kill the last sniper, shooting his hands first, then his legs, his arms, his shoulders— he doesn’t get the mercy of a quick death— he hopes he bleeds, just like Chuuya is now—

The helicopter would come to pick them up at the meeting point in a few hours— he just needed to last until then—

He treats Chuuya’s injuries the best he can, murmuring his name like a prayer, begging begging begging

He ignores his own pain— or, that’s not quite right— he doesn’t even register his own pain— his own wounds are nothing in the face of the possibility of Chuuya’s death, and adrenaline keeps his limp arms moving, his wobbly legs walking

The helicopter picks them up

On board, a doctor patches Chuuya up and assures Dazai the poison wasn’t lethal and that the shot didn’t hit any major organs

Upon hearing (his) Chuuya would be ok, all of Dazai’s muscles relax at once, and he passes out

Chuuya wakes up in the hospital first

Dazai is in a comatose state, recovering— he’d be fine, but it’s the worst he’s been injured since Chuuya was assigned to be his partner

Chuuya waits by his side, holding his hand, running his fingers through his hair, caressing his cheek with his hand

He heard from the doctors that Dazai insisted, hysterically, that the doctors treated Chuuya first, despite his own injuries worsening by the minute

“Fucking asshole,” Chuuya pinches Dazai’s cheek.

He doesn’t wake up

He wakes up a week later, blinking slowly into consciousness

Chuuya is sleeping beside him, resting his cheek in the palm of Dazai’s hand

His eye bags look horrendous, and his face is pale

He nudges him without meaning to

Chuuya wakes up immediately

“Dazai?” He rubs his eyes a few times, as if he was checking he was awake. A few blinks later, Chuuya’s entire face melts. “Fuck, Dazai.”

Dazai isn’t prepared for the armful of Chuuya that barrels into his chest, burying into his neck— oh, Chuuya is warm—

Chuuya begins pressing small kisses into his hair, into the skin between his ears and his neck, eventually moving to kissing him on the apples of his cheeks

Dazai’s heart is doing a weird flop in his chest— he sees Chuuya’s sapphire blue eyes shining with tears, feels his chapped lips against his face, and god, is it pathetic that this feels like the first time he’s ever really been alive?

“You scared the shit out of me—“ Chuuya’s voice is trembling. “Why the fuck would you make them treat me first— I was literally fine, you fucking dumbass bitch, and I heal fast, you know that, you’re the lanky brittle stick— you were in a fucking coma for like a week, do you even know how, how worried I was?”

Frozen as he is, Dazai stumbles out a “why?”

Chuuya glares at him.

“You know why.”

He does. He still doesn’t know why. But Chuuya is peppering kisses all over his face and murmuring reminders to himself about gauze changes and medicine and antibiotics, so Dazai just lets himself stop thinking for once—

He catches Chuuya glancing at his lips, and he waits for a kiss there, but it never comes.

“You missed a spot.”

Chuuya turns bright red (cute cute cute), and looks toward the wall, clearing his throat.

“You should save that kiss for someone you love, mackerel.” Chuuya sighs, the red beginning to leave his cheeks. His eyes lose a bit of light, and Dazai wants to shove his words back in his throat. “I wouldn’t— you’ve already, uh, let me do this much.” He rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable, as he untangles himself from Dazai.

Dazai wants to throw something (when did he ask Chuuya to stop, why is Chuuya sitting back in the chair, why is Chuuya holding his own hands instead of his, come back come back come back).

But Dazai doesn’t say anything, and Chuuya starts milling around the hospital room, collecting his medication

Chuuya nurses him back to health

He doesn’t kiss Dazai again

More months pass

Chuuya still asks for nothing from Dazai, and Dazai is weirdly frustrated by it (Oda and Ango are tired of hearing about it— they insist that Dazai has, ew, Feelings for him, to which he responds, like a mature adult, “The only feelings I have for the amoeba are pity and disgust— he’s stupid, it’s all stupid! And I’m a genius, obviously, so this is all below me!” He mutters, under his breath, “Dumb Odasaku, stupid ango, thinking they know better than me”)

They’re at a high end mafia party

Chuuya looks absolutely dashing, as always

Dazai cleaned himself up just to watch Chuuya’s face turn red

Dazai’s fooling around with some girls, playing the games he always plays, and glances out of the corner of his eye

Dazai freezes.

A Port Mafia man is on his knees, his hand cradling Chuuya’s, his lips planted firmly on Chuuya’s knuckles

And Dazai feels like he’s boiling alive— he hasn’t even kissed Chuuya, and this, this GRUNT is DIRTYING his— Chuuya with his fucking disgusting mouth, and Chuuya’s skin is so soft and warm and smooth and Dazai should be the only one in the world who knows how it feels

Dazai storms up to him and snatches Chuuya’s hand away, replacing it with his own. He introduces himself, but his tone and his eyes are deadly.

They sit in a rare moment of silence on the way back

Chuuya looks weirdly happy

Dazai doesn’t want to wipe the look off his face, so he keeps his mouth shut for once, watching the moonlight catch in his partner’s red hair and blue eyes— he’s so beautiful, Dazai thinks, and he tries to burn the image of Chuuya’s smug smile into his retinas

Dazai follows Chuuya home

They fall back into their old childish teasing the second they collapse on the couch, wrestling and yelling between delirious laughter— that’s the thing about Chuuya, Dazai thinks, he makes Dazai feel like the kid he never got to be.

Chuuya wins a round, and Dazai wins a round, and though they hadn’t agreed on a bet or a reward, Dazai chirps, unable to stop himself, “Guess that means that I have to do something for you, and you have to do something for me! You know, to be fair!”

“Ok…” Chuuya is staring at him suspiciously, checking behind him for a hidden pillow or another similar weapon (which, rude! he would never cheat! Scout’s honor.)

Dazai’s eyes seem to be darting everywhere but Chuuya. “For Chuuya, hmm… I’ll stop flirting around with girls!”

Chuuya blinks at him, bewildered. “I don’t really mind— it’s not like—“

Dazai cuts him off (he doesn’t want to hear the end of the sentence, for some reason?), the next words rapidly stuttering from his mouth—“And in exchange, Chuuya’s not allowed to flirt with anyone, ok?”

A light seems to dawn in Chuuya’s eyes, and he bites his bottom lip, trying to keep down a laugh. “Ok, mackerel. Deal.”

“Good slug.”

Chuuya actually does laugh, this time. “Fuck off.”

Things are a little different, after that. Chuuya gets more confident— he invites Dazai over for movie nights where he falls asleep on his shoulder, he occasionally presses a chaste kiss atop Dazai’s bandages (as if he’s something worth loving, somehow), and they still wrestle and fight and prank each other, but it’s euphoric— it’s their communication, their reminder that the other is thinking of them.

Dazai is still the one on the receiving end of things, and he realizes Chuuya’s never gonna kiss him on the lips because of his stupid moral code that kisses should be loving and romantic from both sides, and well, Dazai doesn’t know about love or any of that other dumb stuff, but he wants to kiss Chuuya

Dazai stays over at Chuuya’s apartment more often than not, and one day, as Chuuya’s leaving for work (he always shows up a couple hours earlier than Dazai), Dazai gathers up the blankets and waddles over to him, still sleepy

“Chuuya?”

“Fuck off,” he replies out of habit more than anything else.

“Chuuyyuyuyaaaaa—“

“What?” He finally turns to Dazai, who seizes the opportunity to give him a kiss, licking Chuuya’s lips as he pulls away.

“Have a good day at work!” Dazai smiles against Chuuya’s lips.

Chuuya works through a couple of phases— shock, joy, all encompassing bigger than the universe giddiness, shock, hope, hope, hope

He watches Dazai waddle back to his bed and collapse in the middle of it, taking up both his side and Chuuya’s

Chuuya smiles all day

After Oda’s death, Chuuya is the first one to grab Dazai’s hand before he can drown.

Dazai has never doubted that Chuuya cared for him, that Chuuya loved him, and it’s so fucking affirming to be believed— to know that someone believes you’re human, through and through

So he hopes that Dazai would trust him to take the initiative here, to make a choice that would truly be a middle finger to Arahabaki, to let Dazai be the savior he already was to Chuuya

“Dazai,” He says, knowing what happened before Dazai says a word, seeing it in his grieving eyes, his miserable form (how dare people think he has no emotions, how dare them, how dare them). He grabs both of Dazai’s hands and pushes their foreheads together with enough force to be a headbutt. His smile is sharp, a little scared, but he’s sincere. “Let’s run away together.”

and they run away and never define their relationship completely, but they are partners, through and through

Chuuya wants agency and to be seen as human and to be trusted and believed, Dazai wants to trust someone to take care of him and to believe in someone’s care for him and sees Chuuya as utterly human

They complete each other, they trust each other unconditionally

Chuuya wakes up with a ring on his finger one day, and Dazai shrugs and says that it might make Chuuya’s side of the deal they made 4 years ago a little easier

Chuuya thinks this is very funny

Dazai wakes up the next morning with a matching ring on his finger

They never have a wedding— they don’t need to prove their partnership to anyone— and they can count the amount of times they’ve said “I love you” on one hand— that’s private, that’s theirs and no one else’s

They’re both part timers at the ADA (the ADA insisted; if they were both full timers, there’d be no work for anyone else to do— Chuuya plows through paperwork, and they’re still soukoku— they never fail a single mission)

In their free time, they play games, write some shitty novels and some not so shitty novels, they try painting, they both become polyglots, read all the books they can in all the languages they can read, and it is all so mundane and so, so human

they no longer have to prove it to anyone

They are home

#soukoku #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chūya #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #15 soukoku #bsd stormbringer #bsd #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd port mafia #skk #skk fanfic #soukoku fanfiction #soukoku au #me post

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dearweirdme · 1 month ago

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Oh this is just 😭 https://x.com/tkvk95972/status/1864684385208766524?s=46&t=VGR0B9a59mdmL-KO7fDdLg

Never seen it zoomed in like that. JK really looked so tense and worried and was just so fidgety when Tae talked about joining special forces and the concerns and dangers of it. And him then saying very very quietly how he also wanted to join the special forces meaning he would have & would liked to be with Tae even in the military 🥹

Of course that wasn’t possible due to their personal relationship amongst possible other reasons, and I’m glad Tae took on that challenge. I’m sure they discussed it at length and that JK is really proud of Tae.

But after he said that while looking so sad, Tae smiled at him and then also looked quite somber, while JK looked even more defeated, but of course couldn’t help but to smile back cause it’s Tae. 🥹

I just think and can imagine that JK is so used to pay attention and take care of Tae, he likes to fix things. His love language is acts of service and he likes to take care and protect. I’m thinking about him climbing a wall to cheer on a scared Tae to jump. Or him roller skating behind Tae who was like Bambi on ice haha to help steady him and catch him when he fell. Or him switching tasks with Tae when he said he doesn’t want to go to the sauna, JK volunteered. Or him cooking Tae an extra batch of a less spicy food etc etc. The list is endless.

So him knowing he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore or to that extent must have been troubling him surely. They are so close but weee separated forcefully for the first time since meeting - that must have been so bizarre and a real adjustment for them 😭 I am so glad it’s nearly over.

But I can also imagine that it brought them even closer, realizing how precious time together is. Which brings me to Tae saying a similar thing in that same live (which makes so much sense cause they don’t know anything else but each other since they were like 15 & 17, but also with the other members) but then JK kind of silently again said to V something along the lines that he knew all along / before that how precious he is…which 🫠

Anyways sorry for the rant, very sweet, very bittersweet. Makes me emotional but also proud of them. And sad for them. And I can’t wait for them to have their little bubble of freedom back and for them to be back next year ❤️

Hi anon!

Rants like this are always welcome 😊.

I love how you said: ‘I’m glad it’s almost over’. I’ve been trying to get into that mindset. It’s already been almost a year since they enlisted.. I can hardly believe it! These last couple of months are going to fly by so fast.

Tae and Jk went through a lot already, but being apart for an extended period of time was never something they had to endure before. I can imagine all sorts of emotions at play because of that. Especially when we could see how much time they spent together last year, and.. how much they miss each other when they’re apart.

I think if anyone knows how capable Tae is in overcoming fears, and managing himself in all sorts of areas, it’s Jk. But, when it comes to the ones we love.. knowing how capable they are doesn’t stop us from worrying and from wanting to be there and making things better.

I hope for Jk ultimately it doesn’t really matter what part of the military he went in. He doesn’t want to make a career out of it, it’s basically just sitting out his time until he can do what he really wants again. Tae went in with a somewhat different mindset, which is great for him. He managed to get himself somewhat excited for something he’s basically forced to do. I just hope they all come out of it alright, with having a sense of relief from having finished and perhaps from having made new friends.

#taekook #enlistment

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heartsaplenty · 6 months ago

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Why had it taken him this long to reach out again.. The burning question on Ren's mind as he once more held a handwritten note, in the same place they had met before.

Akechi was here again too, sitting in another tree. Ren knew why. It was like a game to him, to see if Makoto could play hide and seek just as well as he had before. There was no doubt in either of their minds, deep down, that he would know exactly. Neither talked about him much until last night, but they both came up with the same words- albeit phrased just a bit differently.

Whoever this guy was, he was powerful. Powerful enough to cause over a week of rain. Stealthy enough to get past him, a master of the art. Who knew what else he was capable of, or what he could do if he set his mind to it.

Even lost in thought, he still heard those footsteps. Satanael pined and reached. It didn't hurt as bad this time, but it still shocked him just as much.

Unlike last time, this meeting was being held earlier in the day, yet as always, nobody would find it. It was a mini sanctuary, and briefly Ren had to wonder if that was a part of Makoto's doing. He knew one thing for sure though, if their meet ups were going to be more of a regular thing, the guy would need a nickname or something. Knowing two Makoto's was going to be a bit of a challenge.

He had to go back over his thoughts. He had never recided the meet ups were going to be regular.. It forced a head shake. Even just being slightly in his presence caused emotions to run wild.

"Is something wrong..?"

The voice came from right next to Ren, and it made him jump noticeably.

"Oh.. I thought I had given enough warning." A sigh followed. "Still so much to work on."

Relaxed again, Ren studied him before even thinking about answering. His heart beat fast, the shard inside pulsed faster. Yet, despite it all, he could see that Makoto looked much better than the first time they had met. He almost seemed.. Content. Things met his eyes. The slight smile connected this time.

"I was waiting for you." Ren found himself answering, the words leaving his mouth before he could even try to stop them.

Had he been waiting? Satanael sure had been, but everything was too muddled for introspection. It was just like last time.

"Sorry.. I was learning. Getting used to this world again. It's been ten years, Joker. I'm still missing a part of myself, but I'll never get that back. Not until we're done."

That sadness was back, and it washed over him as well. Joker tried so hard to fight through it. Make sense of his words.. Or at least remember them for later.

"My own team.. I want to be ready to face them. It's.... Hard. My place isn't here any more. I fulfilled my fate."

"Then... Why are you here?" Ren managed to ask, struggling against everything.

"I don't know. I still can't remember."

It was such a small amount of words, but they held an undeniable power over him. From afar, he heard a strangled gasp, meaning it had hit Akechi too.

Ren placed his hand atop Makoto's again. They were still so cold, and somehow still felt wet to the touch- though it was clear they weren't.

"Don't know.. How to help you. I want to.. I decided. Need to know though.. Where are you supposed to be?"

Makoto almost instantly perked up, looking Ren in the eyes. They were mystifying- even.. Hypnotizing.

"Protecting you. Protecting everyone. Part of me is still there. The part of me that lived."

"Do you.. Have your persona?"

Makoto laughed. Ren's heart soared again. He could swear that Satanael swooned. Seriously. What was wrong with him?

"That's a very hard question to answer, Joker. I.. I think so. The longer I'm here, the more I can feel again. Just the other day, I got my taste back."

He was giddy now. Good. He deserved to be. Ren didn't know how he knew that, it was more a strong feeling.

"What.. Happened to you?"

The question was meant with silence. Five seconds passed.. Then ten. Then a whole minute. Eventually, Ren understand what it meant.

"Sorry.. Sorry. Shouldn't ask, right? Rude of me."

".....It's okay." It was quiet. So quiet.. Ren flinched.

"It's not okay."

"You're right."

He should have known better.

"Me and Yu will meet up with you again soon. Can you do something for me, Joker?"

How could he ever say no?

"Yeah."

"One of my friends is in Shibuya right now. I'm not.. Ready yet, but if you could meet him, I will do what I can to help you, too."

"Will you tell me what he looks like?"

"Tall.. Brown messy hair. His name is Ken."

Makoto reached into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper that was slipped into Ren's hand.

"You can find him here."

"What do you want me to say?"

"You're Joker. You charmed a whole nation.. You don't need me to tell you that."

Makoto offered one more smile, before he started walking off. Just like that..

Ren reached out from behind him, a 'wait' on the tip of his tongue- but the ever so mysterious man just... Melted into the ground. He could only look on.

#drabble #should tag this #p3 spoilers #JUST in case

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oceansprompts · 8 months ago

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Daredevil: Cutting Edge Quote Starters 3

quotes taken from the Marvel novel, Daredevil: The Cutting Edge (1999) by Madeleine E. Robins // adjust pronouns and lines as needed.

Come on, let's go hide from the painters.

Let me have five to get a cup of coffee, then I'll start returning calls, okay? I promise.

Nothing more than crushing piles of work. The usual. What's up?

I always like to know what I'm up against.

I wanted to play. Get a really tough problem and come up with an elegant solution.

You'll have to make this the "For Dummies" version.

Heartbreaking. You expect setbacks, but we were so close!

I mean, it worked ⸺ it just had this damned baggage with it.

Well, I'm over it. Grieved, moved on.

Turnabout and all that. I mean, I think it would be poetic justice, don't you?

Made me feel like I was thirteen years old, watching the senior prom queen in the hall in high school.

So you think because she's a babe that she's capable of planning murder?

Ow! Be careful! You don't know your own strength!

If I were afraid of you, would I be sitting here?

Let me uncomplicate things.

Let's talk about it before you do anything more like that.

No one is going to challenge me and get off easily. He taught me that.

We're walking a very fine line, don't upset the balance.

I promised: nothing unless we consult.

I was in the middle of a major negotiation, something that had really gotten bollixed up.

I was still in Big, Tough [name] mode when we meet, and I'm afraid I really wasn't very civil.

No, actually, I felt so bad about the way the meeting ended, I wanted to see if we could meet again.

Somewhere neutral, so I won't be tempted to bring my baggage along with me.

How about a cup of coffee in the Village, about five-thirty? Do you know the Coffeteria on 12th and Broadway?

Thank you so much, I really look forard to proving I'm not the monster I'm sure I seemed the other day.

Reduces me to a screaming hormonal pulp?

Partner, this whole business is so convoluted, it makes my head hurt.

Oh, that's right. Make it all about you, why don't you?

Well, I did it, didn't I? Walking around in the middle of the night with no more sense than a tennis shoe.

I don't want to hear you fretting about me getting in trouble.

It's my fault for not using the brains God gave me and letting you drive me all the way home.

Normal? How can things ever be normal when someone has played tic-tac-toe on your face with a Bowie knife?

Don't you think you ought to relax a little?

You were kind'a attacked by a very big guy with a knife. He's what you have to worry about.

I might as well get right up there on the bandwagon with her.

Garbagey talk show. Ouch. A sign of his interest in talking to the press? Tact, tact.

You really don't like being challenged at all, do you?

If I had my knife, you'd be down on your knees parying, you nobody, you nothing...

I have to do something, and this is what I can do.

My point is, I love you, and I don't want to have to bring you flowers at St. Clare's.

Be careful. That shiner is just beginning to fade; you don't need another, and I do need you. Okay?

Once again, it's all the fault of the guy in the tights, jeez.

You and your delicate sense of humor!

Too tired, too much to carry. I'll come back tomorrow and get them.

It's as tired as I am.

A quiet evening, thank God.

Okay, genius, what now?

If you promise not to shoot me, I'll tell you who did it.

If you try running, I'll catch you and we'll just play harder when we get where we're going.

Just crack the window an inch, please. Or I'm going to be sick all over you and the upholstery, and you can deal with the stench.

What are you gonna do, kill me?

That's it, that counts as your last wish. If you want to make a statement ⸺ I don't want to hear it.

Come on, I'm doing the best I can.

God, if ever you could hear what I was thinking, now would be a good time.

Stay alive, [name]. I'm here.

What are you, Iron Man?

Okay, so I can find you, but you're still made of spun adamantium or something. Why didn't that punch flatten you?

No wonder you like it ⸺ a very "you" kind'a statement

Look, I'm going to close my eyes and rest for a while, don't let anything exciting happen while I'm out, okay?

Are you sure you're supposed to be scolding me in your weakened condition?

I was just trying to distract you from telling me you were right about it.

I hadn't planned on scolding you about that until you were strong enough to fight back.

A man without fear, huh? You looked a little edgy there, last night.

A man without fear can dive off the Condorde into a damp paper cup without blinking... but not the thought of life without you.

You say the absolutely perfect thing sometimes. You really do.

I never know whether you're as clumsy as you seem, or just playing a very, very crafty part. Well, you're not dead yet.

It must be tied to the chromosomes, some elusive girl thing about ties.

Don't antagonize the big guy right now.

And if you had a brain in your head and hadn't kept going off on your own ⸺

If I go in now, I'll only attract attention and endanger you.

That the way you treat all your dates?

I'm going to have to keep hurting him, damaging him, until he stops, until I've done so much damage he can't go on. Can I fight that way?

Gotta stop this now. Tired, and I think I broke a rib. Okay, big boy!

Who did they think they were, Dr. Jekyll or something? Cripes!

Cosmic irony: man with no sympathy has a heart that beats sympathetically.

Hey... I'm one of the good guys, right?

Look at me. I look like... the Hulk's baby sister. And it's going to get worse.

It was grotesque. He looks like a monster. He used to be so beautiful.

I'm not stupid. I played a risky game and I lost. I lost it big and I'm going to wind up a monster.

Tell me about the colors.

Tell me what you hear.

I think they want us front and center to be thanked.

Anyone here ever ask you what the most beautiful word in the English language is, you can tell'em: home.

That's a couple of bad guys down.

Hey you, having a good time?

With you? Always.

We could rent a movie, then curl up on the couch together and ignore it.

That sounds good. We could even forget the movie.

Even better, I love you a lot.

That is what keeps me going.

#roleplay memes #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay #roleplay starters #ask box #ask box prompts

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balanchine-ballet-master · 1 year ago

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Russell Janzen on Retiring

Russell Janzen in Balanchine's Davidsbundlertänze, 2014. Photo: Paul Kolnik via DanceTabs

Russell Janzen gave his last performance with the New York City Ballet last Sunday, partnering Sara Mearns in the Diamonds section of Jewels. He published his thoughts on retiring in The New York Times.

On Leaving the Life of the Body: A Dancer Reports

“I know that I am about to give up one of my primary ways of being me,” Russell Janzen writes about retiring from New York City Ballet after 16 years.

By Russell Janzen

It is one of my last ballet classes as a professional dancer. Halfway through barre we do rond de jambes—an exercise in which you paint half circles on the floor with your toes. The teacher, Gonzalo Garcia, sets a combination that sweeps back and forth as we transfer our weight from one foot to the next, our arms swinging to amplify our movements.

Extending through to the tips of my fingers and reaching my legs long I feel expansive. It’s not exactly that I feel free—I am doing a prescribed exercise, holding onto a wooden bar—but the stretch of my body and the rumbling swells of the music create a sense of rightness and liberation. I feel present and energized, my body alive. The pleasure of this moment is a relief; it’s a sensation I am forever pursuing, because at the best of times dancing can make me feel whole and wholly myself. On Sunday, I will retire from New York City Ballet after 16 years with the company. I have spent over a year preparing myself, and I am ready. But I know that I am about to give up one of my primary ways of being me.

“As dancers, we become our bodies, in ways both gratifying and reductive.” Photo: Jingyu Lin for The New York Times

My specific physical capabilities—the particular functioning of my muscles, joints, bones and tendons—have been essential to my livelihood. And to my happiness, too, because in moments of alignment and control my body is not just the vessel for my self-expression, it is the expression itself.

So I wonder: Who will I be when my body is no longer shaped by turning out and jumping and lifting? What will I like to do when I don’t have to save my back or my calves or my feet for the next night, the next week, the next month? And how will I feel after these final shows: Like I’m getting my body back, or like I’m losing it?

In spring 2019, I danced the central duet in Justin Peck’s “Rodeo" for the first time. The debut came at one of these sweet spots in my career: I was dancing the way I had always wanted to dance. I wasn’t doing everything perfectly, I still had nerves—and I can’t speak to how I looked—but I felt in control in a way I never had before. I just felt good in my body. Settled.

In the first performance, my partner Sara Mearns and I walked out onstage, and when the music started it was slower than we had rehearsed. Much slower. Sara gave me a look like, “Oh, boy.” That look was both an eye roll aimed at the conductor and an invitation to meet the challenge he had set for us. I smiled at Sara as if we weren’t in front of thousands of people and pushed her into the air, higher than we’d practiced—and then I launched myself after her and we danced.

Russell Janzen with Sara Mearns in Diamonds. Photo: Erin Baiano via the NY Times

But it didn’t feel like dancing. It felt like living, in a heightened, intoxicating way. It felt like we were the music, and the dance. We were ourselves in the most essential and simple way but also we were something more, something bigger. We were dancing. And I don’t mean that as a verb; I mean it as a noun. We were all that dancing could be in that moment, to that music, on that stage.

Of course we were also wearing lots of makeup and we were sweating and trying to point our feet and stand tall, and I was trying to keep her on balance and she was trying to hold up her leg. But we were not thinking about this trying, we were just being, and it felt so right.

Throughout my career there have been many moments like this, when how I feel in my body makes my dancing seem inseparable from myself. Sometimes these moments are brief, lasting just one entrance or one class, other times I can hold onto the feeling for weeks.

Janzen partnering Teresa Reichlen in Balanchine’s Agon in 2019. Photo: Erin Baiano via the NY Times

As dancers, we become our bodies, in ways both gratifying and reductive. We always deal with pain and tightness — navigating physical limitations is a part of this art form — but when muscles cooperate, and choreography feels natural, even grappling with the body’s capabilities offers rewards.

This intense relationship with my physicality has been fulfilling, a gift. And yet being tied to my body in this way has also been restrictive and often disappointing.

I spent my first six years with the company cycling through career-pausing injuries, never staying healthy long enough to gain much momentum. At a certain point my body became more manageable and I gained traction in my career — dancing bigger roles, being promoted to soloist, then principal.

But the injuries continued: a tear in my shoulder, a sticky rib, a trouble spot in my spine that persists, ankle sprains, back spasms. Ballet is punishing on most every body, but at 6-foot-3 I am not compact. My height and length can look impressive onstage, but my body doesn’t always absorb the impact of dancing and partnering well, making me — and my spine especially — susceptible to injury and strain.

It’s thanks to a fleet of physical therapists and movement specialists that I danced as much as I did. I spent hours each day doing exercises, taking preventive measures to protect my back and prepare my body for what I had to do each night. In order for me to dance, my body — its needs, aches and peculiarities — dictated everything: how long I sat, how I slept, how I traveled, how I dated, how I spent time with my family, how I relaxed, how I lived.

Janzen in Peter Martins's staging of The Sleeping Beauty, Act II, 2017. Photo: Paul Kolnik via Dance Informa

Relying on my body in the way I’ve needed to has meant sacrifices and pain. Sacrifices and pain that were frustrating but worth it because of onstage experiences like “Rodeo,” because I got to dance ballets I always dreamed of dancing: Jerome Robbins’s “Dances at a Gathering”; George Balanchine’s “Agon,” “Swan Lake,” “Diamonds.” And because of the dancers with whom I shared the stage.

Since late fall of 2019 I have had two new injuries — one in my ankle and one in my knee — that again kept me from ballet. Now that my dancing body has been going for decades, the recoveries have been challenging. I’m 34; healing takes longer than when I was 19, and when I am deemed ready to go back onstage my body doesn’t feel like it did before. I’m told it likely won’t again.

Martha Graham famously said that a dancer dies twice, the first time when they stop dancing — when the body can no longer do what it once did. It’s this first death, she said, that is more difficult. And this is where I am now. No longer able to do what I once did.

Janzen and Ashley Bouder filming Balanchine’s “Duo Concertant” for Sofia Coppola in 2021. Photo: Erin Baiano via the NY Times

With the latest injury, a patellar tear, I chose to dance until it proved too painful and so had months to prepare myself for the time off. I made plans, I gave myself projects, I had a loving support system. And yet while I was healing there was a part of me that felt like I was waiting for my life to restart. So much of my life as a dancer has been spent waiting to live, biding time or saving myself for when I am out onstage again dancing. Waiting for my body to once again be able to do what I need it to do to feel like me.

I have had enough rewarding shows in the last year to know that I could continue dancing—shift how I approach the work and find new meaning in a more limited repertoire. But I’m ready to stop. I am ready to pay attention to something new, to reorient my relationship to myself and to those around me. My body, my dancing body, has been the part of me I have prioritized above all else for over 16 years—the part to which I have given the most attention and care. And I don’t want to pay attention to my body in this way anymore, with my physicality and ever-increasing limitations dictating how I live both onstage and off.

Janzen in Pam Tanowitz's Law of Mosaics. Photo: Erin Baiano via Gramilano

There is much loss in this first death. I will not diminish the grief and sadness of this time, but as I’m nearing the final moments of my dance career I’m also thinking about how this ending means I get to have another life, one with different kinds of freedom.

After finishing dancing I plan to pursue a degree in social work. I don’t have much of a sense of what this will look like or where it will lead me, but I know that it will offer me an entirely different framework through which I might understand and experience the world. Rather than narrowing in again on something specific, my hope is that this will be a time of exploration, an opening up of possibilities.

As I am writing this, I have three remaining performances including my retirement show. I’ll be dancing “Diamonds” in Balanchine’s “Jewels,” a ballet that has taken me through my entire career. It was my first ballet with the company (aside from “The Nutcracker”). And in 2014 the principal role, which I’ll be retiring with, was one of my first really major parts.

“Diamonds” ends in an epic display of grandiosity and classicism. Thirty-six dancers move in shifting patterns—turning, jumping, and polonaising around the stage. In one of the last moments the entire cast moves in unison. All the dancers unfurl a leg into an extended line in front of them, foot pointed and rotated, displayed for the audience: Look at our feet and our legs, look at these bodies of ours. Watch us dance and see how this life, our dedication, and our passion has shaped us.

On Sunday, while my back might be tight, and my knee might not bend as pliantly as it once did, my body won’t be failing me. This is my body now, after 16 years dancing the greatest ballets. In these last shows I will get to support a treasured partner, dance with people I’ve known for much of my life, and propel myself into the air and around the stage. I will get to be in my body, in whatever state it is in, in a way that I love, using it to take me through the contours and shapes of one of my favorite dances. Then the curtain will come down, and I will move on to something new.

Sara Mearns and Janzen in Balanchine's Chaconne, 2014. Photo: Paul Kolnik via Pinterest

#Russell Janzen #retirement #dancer retires #dancer retirement #New York City Ballet #NYCB #Russell Janzen retires #Russell Janzen writer #ballet #ballet retirement #identity #Balanchine

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myfaveisfuckable · 2 years ago

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Rants!

Jane/Amelia: Ok my love for this ship started a million years ago with this video:

youtube

But seriously they are so much fun. Amelia is one of the few people smart enough to keep up with Jane and challenge her, and Jane is one of the few people so consistently principled that Amelia would actually be able to trust her and let her guard down. Amelia is the Captain who can take Jane wherever she wants to go to perform her research, and they get to open doors for each other. Plus let's be real, Jane hooking up with an alien sounds 100% right that girl is not capable of having a vanilla relationship.

Hope Diyoza/Echo: Listen barely anyone even watched the last season of that show, most of us sapphics lost interest post Lexa but it's such a tragedy. My girl Hope is only in that season and so many people dislike her 8( anyway the fandom immediately agreed that Hope was a lesbian and then Echo entered her storyline and fam. How the writers didn't see it is beyond me. It's been almost three years and it's looking like I'm never gonna get over them. "You must think I'm so weak..." - 'No. The opposite." Hhhh and Hope killing for Echo when she wasn't even able to do that for her father figure. Oh god and "How could you let her do this!?" - "Because I want her to." My little babies off to (attempt to) commit genocide :') other highlights include some cowards not wanting to ship Hope with her aunt's brother's ex-girlfriend (there was time fuckery involved, they're close in age when they meet, also who cares?? the CHEMISTRY), Echo Spy Shenanigans TM and the fact that I still want to write that Mamma Mia AU every time I hear an abba song. Lord help me now I want to rewatch s7 for them again

(second submission from the same person)

Hi hello sorry if this is a double submission I don't remember if i submitted them or dreamt it shout out to my adhd. ANYWAY Hope and Echo ruined my life back in 2020 literally thought about them 24/7 from june until October. Picture this: feral girl child of two terrorists who was isolated her whole life, literally nearly alone on a planet for 20yrs and has only truly known exactly 3 people ever and then matured through trauma trauma ptsd trauma and is now determined as All Fuck to go rescue her mother and aunt figure meets ex child soldier master spy redeemed antagonist who only learned what feelings are and how to deal with them a few years ago who is determined to go save her lame ass bf who is bein held in the same place as the other girl's mum and aunt. They join forces and train together and teach each other everything they know and get matching haircuts (this is canon look it up I'm obsessed). The first time Hope kills somebody is to save Echo's life; the first unfamiliar person Echo hugs and comforts is Hope. They invade a planet with their science nerd friend and enable each others genocidal tendencies so bad I love them ♡ after that whole ordeal goes wrong which includes Echo's shitty bf dumping her so she can't keep him from torturing their friend (notably not because of the attempted genocide lol) they are like each other's go to human at all times... until the 100 writers once again show their incapability of writing sapphic stories by forcing Hope to kiss a man who she met literally like a week ago (her and Echo have known each other for 5yrs at that point, there is time fuckery involved) and who would have been a great bestie for her. Boo! Hope is a lesbian! Every queer person who watched s7 agrees! Anyway after she show ends Hope and her boo realise that this is absolutely not what they want and Hope and Echo get to slow burn their way into what they were always meant to be and would have been if the writers had gone with actor chemistry over what they wanted to write from the start. I'm kidding Echo needed time to grieve her shit bf first but like I said. Eventually they got together and they lived happily ever after. Check the Echope tag on tumblr if you wanna see them, a fic rec for their dynamic could be "otherwise sensible women" by penguinofprose ao3. Sorry if I ranted too much thenksies if you read this far mwah :*

#poll #tournament #treasure planet #the 100 #disney tarzan #Youtube

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countessofravenclaw · 1 year ago

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El Lugar más Feliz de la Tierra: Chapter two

To all that come to this happy place, welcome. Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the past, and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future.

- Walt Disney

Luna had never heard these words before, nor had she heard of the man who had said them... well until she and Mateo end up having a movie night and Luna comes up with an idea. If there is really a place that can be called "the happiest place on the earth" she wants to see it for herself. So she and all her friends leave on an adventure ... an adventure over to a place where you can leave today and enter the world of the past, future, adventure, and fantasy.

The song of the chapter V ¤

All around the world sun is shining

“So I thought two suitcases would be enough but we’ll see.” Luna put two colorful suitcases onto the bed where Nina was sitting. It was Friday and they were flying out to California on a 13:30 flight the next day. We’ll be checking then anyway so it does not matter. Are you sure you have time to help me?”

“Of course,” Nina said as she scrolled through the checklist on the tablet. Luna and Ambar had done all the planning together and the list had everything Luna still needed to make sure of. “I already sorted the clothes and other stuff I’m taking. Gastón is putting them into our suitcases with his own after he gets off work. Everything I need as a carry-on, I’ll have time to pack tomorrow.”

“You trust him to do that?” Luna questioned as she dumped a mountain of socks to the bed. “Matteo always says that he can’t navigate my clothing and Ambar doesn’t let Simon even touch hers.”

“Well, we are all different. Whatever works for you is fine. But my husband is very capable of doing that.”

“I still can’t believe that you are actually married,” Luna exclaimed while starting to throw shirts off their hangers and next to the socks.

“Well, sometimes I don’t believe it myself,” Nina laughed and looked at the narrow white gold band that was encrusted with small sapphires, which was now accompanying the sapphire and diamond engagement ring on her left ring finger. “But I have to say, it is pretty nice.”

“And fun?”

“Yes, that too.” Nina looked down and tried not to blush, when she thought all that fun actually included. “I mean, I know I would give a 15-year-old myself a heart attack if she ever learned that by the age 24, she’d be Mrs. Perida.”

“Sad thing is that time travel has not been invented yet.” Luna laughed. “Can you go through the list one more time. Ambar is counting on me, and I am sure I have forgotten something.”

“Okay. Did you make sure everyone has the app?”

“Yes, I sent the link to the group chat last week, and everyone is registered there as one group.”

“Good,” Nina said as she scrolled down the list. “Ambar took care that everyone has the boarding passes… I think everything is done. The gate is 56 and we’ll meet up there at 12:15. We're picking you and Matteo up at 11:00. You and Ambar did amazing planning for this vacation.”

“I know right?” Luna grinned, “I am so excited! Okay so, what of these do I take with me, and what do I not?” She was eyeing the shirts that were now laying on the bed as one big pile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten them out of the closet before you chose.” Nina pointed out.

“Huh… yeah, that sounds smart. Oh well, no going back now.” Luna tilted her head.

“You can at least get rid of all the long-sleeved ones. It is July, so it is going to be hot in Anaheim.”

“Okay!” Luna started pulling all the long-sleeved ones out of the pile while Nina started folding the short-sleeved ones.

“The weather forecast didn’t show any indication of rain, but you can never be too safe, so take one jacket,” Nina said after they had finished sorting Luna’s shirts.

“Yeah, that is a good idea.” She grabbed one jacket from the closet and threw it on top of the other clothes in the suitcase. “Okay, what's next? Shoes… argh, I have no idea what to do with them.”

“I am pretty sure Roller Skates are forbidden, so you should not even try, or we won’t get past the park security.” Nina said while arranging the jacket nicely in the suitcase. “I only packed flats for the park, you know, sneakers and low heel boots.”

“Well, I thought I’d wear this to the plane,” Luna held up a floral jumpsuit, “and then these shoes.” She pointed to hot pink boots. “Hmmm, then I could take my Converse and the colorful Nikes… oh and I need the purple boots for that Jazmin’s thing.” Luna started throwing shoes to the second suitcase.

“Can you fold these?” Luna dropped a bunch of bottoms in front of Nina, before starting to rummage through some drawers, mumbling something about missing earrings.

Nina just shook her head laughing and started folding the clothes until she noticed something amongst them…

“Hah! Found them!” Luna pulled her head from a drawer holding something and turned toward Nina with a victory smile.

“Luna, what is this?” Nina was looking at her disapprovingly while holding Luna’s engagement ring in her hand.

“Wait what?” Luna’s eyes shot to her left hand. “How did it end up there?”

“Luna, you need to tell Matteo that it is too big so you can get it resized.” Nina said with a serious tone of voice,

“You’re right,” Luna sat on the bed. “But I always forget and there is no time now.”

“You can’t wear it to the parks, if it is falling off, you’ll for sure lose it there and it will be impossible to find it. I am sure you don’t want to lose it.” Nina handed the ring back to Luna, “It can be a millimeter game. Mine was a little too big, so I didn’t even notice it and even the jeweler said it wasn’t exactly necessary to resize it, but Gastón still insisted on it. I am sure Matteo would want the same.”

“I know, the ruby is one of the only things he has left of his mother. But what do I do now? I can’t just leave it home.”

“You could wear it on a chain.” Nina suggested.

“I don’t really want to… it is my engagement ring,” Luna lamented, “Oh, what if I use one of those, you know, security rings?”

“Yes, I know them,” Nina responded, “You have any?”

“No…” Luna shook her head, pondering, “Maybe Ambar does. I’ll ask her.” Luna grabbed her phone and started typing on it at lightning speed. “Yes! She does!”

“Will they fit you?”

“They will!” Luna grabbed her jewelry box and placed it on the bed. “We have the same ring size… or at least her wedding band fitted me… okay so should I just take all of my jewelry? Or just some of it? I can’t choose.”

“You tried on Ambar’s wedding ring?” Nina questioned. On the surface, it might not seem like a big deal, but she could not imagine herself ever letting anyone else wear her rings. They had too much emotional value.

“Yeah, she had me model it so she could take a picture of it—” Luna noticed Nina’s gaze, “—relax. I wore it on the right hand.”

“Okay, let's move on.” Nina shook her head, “Jewelry wise, you should pick the pieces that you pack, so they don’t take extra space.”

“Can you do that for me? I never know what to pick. I’ll just get a couple more things and then we should be done.”

Maybe after another 30 minutes or so, Luna and Nina were squeezing Luna’s suitcases shut. They had ended up being so full that Luna had to sit on it so Nina could pull the zippers shut.

“You better warn Matteo before you open these up at the hotel,” Nina noted, “I am not sure that these will not explode.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Luna pulled the suitcases to the floor and jumped on the bed. “I AM SO EXCITED!!! I have no idea why I didn't think of this years ago.”

“I should have shown you frozen years ago.” Nina laughed. “I have been wanting to visit the parks for years… but Mom never let me. Dad would have taken me. I honestly don’t know, now that I think about it, why we never visited the Paris park with Gastón while we were in England. Well, we can do it once we’ll go over to Europe next time. We could take our children someday.”

“Speaking off…” a mischievous smile grew on Luna’s face. “So, you do not have anything to tell me right?”

“Luna, no.” Nina rolled her eyes after catching onto what she meant.

“Oh well, had to ask.” Luna laughed, “You never know what happens on the honeymoon.”

“Luna, neither of us is even 25 yet. I am trying to finish my second book. Gastón has been at his job for only six months. He is doing extremely well, but still new there. Not to mention that we got married only a month ago. We have talked about it, there is no rush.”

“Okay, but I just wanna be an auntie,” Luna jumped on the bed.

“Then pester Simon and Ambar about it.”

“Okay let's change the subject,” Luna relented. “I went through the English phrases you provided.”

“You probably were the only one,” Nina sighed. Their group was tragicomically very mismatched in their English abilities, but at least Luna was trying.

“So, if I need to find something I’ll just ask: Where is and then the thing I am trying to find, right?” Luna pronounced, surprisingly quite well.

“Yes, that is quite good,” Nina nodded. “More polite phrasing would be Where can I find or How do get somewhere, but for you that can work fine.”

***

“Jim, do you have the tickets?” Yam came into their living room while dragging an empty suitcase.

“Yes, I do. We need to be there at 12:15.” Jim was already sitting on the floor with her empty suitcase.

They had decided that this time they were going to be orderly and get the packing done well in advance… the night before the flight… but that was in advance.

“But… How are we getting to the airport? The bus will take at least an hour.”

“Maybe Ramiro can drive us,” Yam pondered and started texting on her phone. “Okay, so we need to get to packing…” She put her suitcase next to Jim’s and sat on the floor. “What first?”

“Let’s put the special outfits in first,” Jim suggested. “Can you go get them, and I’ll get our shoes from the closet.”

Yam nodded and got off the floor and pulled Jim with her. Jim walked to the door and opened the closet where they kept their shoes in. She was just about to grab another pair of sneakers when she heard Yam shriek, and she soon came running from the bedroom.

“What happened? Were our special outfits not there?”

“No, I got them here,” Yam dropped the pile of folded clothes into the suitcase.

“Then what is the problem?”

“We don’t have any other clothes!”

“What, why, how?” Jim looked at Yam flabbergasted…

“THE LAUNDRY!” They exclaimed in unison. “WE DIDN’T DO THE LAUNDRY!”

They ran to the bathroom as fast as they were able, and Jim threw her head into the laundry basket.

“How did we forget to do the laundry?”

“I don’t know, but we need to hurry!”

The girls threw all the clothing from the basket, not caring what color they were, into the washing machine, poured the powder into the slot, and turned the washing machine on.

“Pheeewww, disaster avoided,” Jim sighed.

“Hey, Ramiro said he is going to pick us up at 11:20.” Yam said while looking at her phone.

“Now we just need to get the stuff together and our clothes will be done in two hours.” Jim looked at the clock on the wall. “We’ll be finished by midnight.”

“No, wait.” Yam suddenly looked up, “We don’t have a dryer. How will we make the clothes dry? We can’t leave them overnight… we’ll forget them.”

“Won’t they dry in the suitcases?” Jim suggested.

“You know what,” Yam looked at her, “That is our only option.”

***

Delfi sighed and closed her wedding folder as her phone started ringing. Of course, it was Jazmin.

“DELFI! Have you packed yet, because I can’t choose—” Jazmin’s voice rang as soon as Delfi picked up the call.

“No, I haven’t packed yet. I need to call our wedding planner and florist before I can focus on that,” Delfi sighed. “What’s the problem?”

“I can’t choose the shoes.” Jazmin said from the other end. “But shouldn’t you relax a bit. That is what this trip is about?”

“Pedro is saying the same, but I need to inform everyone that I can’t be contacted about anything wedding related for a week,” Delfi shook her head.

“Relax and listen to your Maid of honor here,” Jazmin grinned, “the wedding is not going anywhere even if we have some fun. Anyways, about the shoes…”

“Take something you can walk in.” Delfi responded. “Pedro is probably just packing his drumsticks, so I need to sort his stuff too.”

“Also, did I tell you that I got a new GoPro? Perfect timing. Now I can live stream from the parks and do a lot of interviews.”

“So much about this being a leisure trip.”

“Well, I can still get amazing content,” Jazmin continued, “I am getting a ride, right?”

“Of course, you are, but maybe it is time for a car Jazmin,” Delfi sighed, “You can afford it.”

“That kind of shopping is not fun at all.” Jazmin whined. “Anyways, send me pics of all the outfits you are packing. See ya!”

Delfi sighed and put her folder down after Jazmin had hung up. She really should get to packing. She walked to the cupboard they had next to the kitchen in their apartment and pulled suitcases out of it and dragged them to the bedroom where Pedro was laying on the bed.

“I just got off the phone with Jazmin. We’re giving her a ride.”

***

“So, I did more research and apparently you can go inside the castle!” Luna was rambling to Nina on the back seat as Gastón pulled up on a ramp in the airport’s parking garage. They were going to park on the top level’s gold premium parking lot, which Gastón had access to through his parents. “There was a restaurant inside the castle! We so need to eat there.”

“I don’t think that is there,” Gastón said from the driver’s seat after flashing his ID to the guard on the gate of the parking lot. “That sounds like Disney World to me.”

“I think so too.” Matteo remarked from the shotgun seat.

“Huh, thats a bummer,” Luna pouted as Gastón parked the car and everyone got out.

“Didn’t we go eat at that restaurant in the castle when we were there?” Matteo asked while pulling Luna’s second suitcase out of the car. “What did you pack in these? Bricks?”

“Wait, you ate at the Disney World’s castle when you were 14?” Nina questioned. They had left the parking garage and were now walking toward the bag check area. They had done the flight check in online, so they didn’t need to worry about it anymore.

“I think we did,” Gastón said with a pondering voice while lifting the bags on the conveyor belt. “What? Did you think we would have thought ourselves too cool for that? You should have known me and Matteo when we were 14…” Gastón quieted once Matteo made a shushing noise. “...on another thought, maybe it’s better that you didn’t know us.”

“You’re afraid that I’d run away if I had?” Nina raised an eyebrow at him, “I think it is a bit too late for that.”

“It is still nice to hear you say it,” Gastón smirked while wrapping his arm around Nina as they had gotten released from the bags.

They went through security with no additional problems, outside of Luna almost forgetting her carry-on bag on the TSA conveyor belt.

“She will probably never stop forgetting stuff,” Matteo shook his head as they watched Luna dash for her bag after they had already started to walk away. “I’ll need eyes in the back of my head not to lose her at the parks.”

“Either way it will be an adventure.” Gastón shrugged as Luna caught up with them. “One good thing about this is that the gate is right there.” He pointed forwards as they rounded a corner.

The airport was relatively crowded but there was no one yet waiting in front of their gate, outside of two people who were sitting on the benches. They were Simon and Ambar who were facing away from the four of them.

“Booo!” Luna dashed towards them in lightning speed.

“Luna!” Ambar and Simon got up from the bench, “You scared us!”

“Is anyone else here yet?” Matteo asked as everyone else got to the gate.

“NO, just you,” Ambar shook her head, “Not surprised. We’re very well in schedule and I'm glad to see that you two are in time,” she pointed to Luna and Matteo, “but not also surprised, since the Peridas were driving.”

“Again, huge congratulations again! Thank you for not making me and Simon feel like the old married couple anymore,” Ambar turned her attention towards Gastón and Nina and she and Simon hugged them both. “I can’t believe we have not been able to meet up since you came back.”

“Well, it only has been two weeks.” Nina hugged Ambar back. “Life keeps being busy.”

***

“Yikes!!!” Jim screamed from the backseat as Ramiro rounded a traffic circle. “Can’t you drive slower?”

“Yeah, seriously, we don’t want to die!” Yam tried to slap Ramiro from the front seat but he ducked.

“Assault the driver, you end up on back with Jim.” Ramiro snarked, “Do you want to be on time or not? You were the ones who were not ready when I came to pick you up.”

“We thought you were going to be late.”

“When will you start having any faith in me? Not my fault that you don’t drive.” Ramiro shook his head as he pulled into the car park. “Can you put that energy into use, and use your eyes to find me a parking space?”

“Oh oh oh, there is one!” Jim pointed to the corner.

“And don’t you dare to give me any parking advise,” Ramiro said as he expertly drove the car between two other ones. Jim and Yam both had to admit that he really was a pretty good driver. He even knew how to parallel park and would never risk scratching his new car.

“What do you have in these?” Ramiro kept complaining when he lifted girls’ suitcases to the ground.

“Important things,” Yam shook her head.

“Then why are these damp?”

“None of your business,” Jim said quickly and grabbed her bag’s handle.

“Can you believe we are actually going to Disney?” Jim continued gushing as they were walking towards the TSA checkpoint. “I am so excited!!”

“This was super generous from Luna and Ambar.” Yam nodded as she started to unload her carry-on stuff to the security tray.

“I know, right? Luna’s the best.” Ramiro did couple a of dance moves while going through the metal detector and got a long stare from the TSA agent.

“I wish I’d had done more research,” Jim said while waiting for Yam to pass through. “There are going to be so many rides—” Suddenly she was interrupted by a loud beep when she passed through the metal detector.

“Miss, would you please stay still?” Two security agents suddenly approached her.

“What’s going on?”

***

“Jazmin come on.” Delfi urged Jazmin who was stuffing all of her respective gadgets back into her bag. She had a tablet, phone, a camera, a tripod for the camera, three different microphones… the list went on for ages. At least the laptop had been left in the checked suitcases.

“Just a minute,” Jazmin said as she zipped her ginormous purse closed.

“For what do you need all of that?” Pedro shook his head next to Delfi.

“This trip will be the feature of Ja Jazmin this month,” Jazmin just shrugged, “The content will start from the airport.”

As they started walking away Jazmin was already rummaging for her camera from her bag already.

“Hello, my dear viewers!” Jazmin started speaking to the camera, “Today as you know, the adventure begins. I am on the airport right now with my friend Delfi and her fiancé Pedro, and were about to meet up with the rest of our friends because today we are flying to California. Because we’re going to Disneyland! Delfi how are you feeling?”

“Excited.” Delfi gave a forced smile towards the camera, “Almost none of us have been to Disney before.”

“She had to put her wedding planning on hold for this trip so thats why she may seem a bit grumpy,” Jazmin kept talking.

“Jazmin!”

***

“So, I have to get your two cents on this,” Ambar asked as Gastón came back to the gate with a coffee and an iced tea that he handed to Nina. “Simon always claims that the reason why I keep finding his ring in the sink after he washes anything is because it happens to everybody. Does it?”

“What? No.” Gastón looked at Simon suspiciously while Ambar also threw him a look. “Want my wife to confirm?”

“Honestly, if someone loses the rings, it is going to be me.” Nina responded.

“I doubt that will happen.” Ambar reassured her, “Just don’t take it off. You sleep with it right?”

“Of course.”

“Matteo, I told you the chicken nuggets are much better—” Luna and Matteo walked back to the gate. They had been getting some food from McDonald’s and had apparently gotten into a fight about what to order. They quickly stopped as they joined the others.

“Has no one else come yet?” Matteo asked while trying to sneak a french fry from Luna.

“No,” Ambar said while glancing at her watch. “Wonder what is taking them so long…”

“Guys, we’re here!” Everyone looked up and saw Jim, Yam and Ramiro sprint towards them.

“We’re not late are we?” Yam sat down on a bench breathing heavily.

“No, just in time actually.” Ambar was clearly embracing the group leader role during the trip.

“You won’t believe this, but security tagged me!” Jim exclaimed.

“For what?” Luna asked while shoving a second nugget in her mouth and ended up almost choking.

“Why do you ask?” Ramiro joked “She obviously tried to smuggle a gun here.”

“My keys were in my pocket.” Jim slapped Ramiro on the shoulder.

“Well, at least you didn’t get arrested.” Nina shook her head.

“I wonder what is holding up Delfi and Jazmin…” Ambar mumbled while looking at her watch again. “...We still have time.” Then she turned towards Gastón again, “As we are waiting, can you go over some basic phrases with Simon?”

“But, but…” Simon tried to protest.

“Darling, I would love for you to find the bathrooms by yourself. I don’t trust those translator apps.” Ambar gave him a look that made him quiet down. “There will be a big crowd and I bet my whole lawyer career that we will accidentally get separated at some point.”

“Pheeeew, I finally found here.” Suddenly Pedro was standing in front of them.

“Where are Delfi and Jazmin?”

“Jazmin saw something she needed to get footage off and Delfi went with,” Pedro explained before sitting down next to Simon.

“Hmmm, they should be heading towards here. There isn’t that long until boarding.” Ambar picked up her phone and pressed Delfi’s contact. “Hey, Delfi. Where are you heading? Yes, Pedro is here already. You and Jazmin should start coming here as well, so you won’t be late— What do you mean you are lost?”

***

“Wow! This is so beautiful!!!” Luna was jumping up and down as everyone entered in the lobby of Disneyland Hotel. She was twirling around trying to look at everything at once.

“The check-in seems to be right there,” Ambar said pointing toward the desk in the lobby. “Luna, wanna come to do it with me?”

“Actually can you go do it without me?” Luna shook her head. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be on the communication side.”

“Okay, then.” Ambar just nodded and headed towards the desk.

Luna still tried to find more things to look at. The ceiling was so beautiful, with lot of stars on it. It looked so magical—

Suddenly Luna’s eyes focused on something on the corner. GIFT SHOP!!!

“Look, there is a gift shop right there!” Luna started tugging Nina’s arm. “Lets go!”

“I think we should probably wait until Ambar is done with the check-in…”

Luna didn’t pay attention since she was already running towards all the beautiful and colorful Minnie ears.

“I’ll get her.” Matteo said and started walking towards Luna.

“Matteo aren’t these incredible?!” Luna was holding rainbow sequin ears on top of her head.

“Yeah, they are, and I’ll buy you three sets of ears later but right now we should go back.” Matteo took her by the arm, “Ambar and everyone will be waiting for us.”

“Okayyyy.” Luna whined and put the rainbow ears back. “I am coming back for these.”

“Adventure is out there!”

{}

Yayyyyy! Now the chaos can really begin... I am coming for you all. Plus, do not ask me how everyone just has time to do this, especially Gastón who just two weeks ago had a 2.5-week long furlough from his new job for his wedding.

#Soy Luna #soy luna fanfiction #Going to Disneyland #Disney #disney chaos #lutteo #gastina #simbar #Pelfi #Jam #Chaos will reign in the happiest place on earth #Roller crew goes to Disneyland #Lugar más Feliz

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incalculablepower · 1 year ago

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@hprecfest | week one

day one | a favourite fic under 5k

a dream of winter by Delphi (1.4k words) summary: Three glimpses into the life of Kendra Dumbledore. (An interpretation of the ambiguous description of the character in Deathly Hallows.)

One of my favourite things fanfiction is capable of is correcting canon -- not just in no-one-dies fix-it fics, but by taking clumsy exposition at its word and expanding on it. This fic takes the odd description of Kendra Dumbledore in DH and breathes life into her as a Mohawk woman living on Godric's Hollow.

day two | a comfort fic

the secret diary of hugo granger-weasley, aged thirteen and a half by @floreatcastellumposts summary: Rose says that I am an oblivious moron, but would an oblivious moron have such a deep and sensitive diary? I don't think so. No one knows how I suffer in this ridiculous family. Written for SIYE's The Burrow Secret Challenge 2016, and inspired by Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole.

A particularly great comfort read for this time of year: Hugo, who Flo characterizes perfectly as an awkward, oblivious, serious teenager with a diary, tries to get to the bottom of a mystery at the centre of a busy Weasley Christmas.

day three | a podfic

the last enemy by @shootwithintenttokill @chdarling's Marauder's series is already one I recommend to everyone (even non-fanfic reading HP fans) and @shootwithintenttokill's undertaking of turning it into a podfic is so impressive. New chapters are slotted into my regular podcast listening routine and they're an excellent way to re-read TLE and pick up on all the wonderful foreshadowing in CH's fic.

day four | a fic with art

no amount of therapy can help by The_wig_is_a_metaphor summary: The entire internet is aware of occultist youtuber Lord Voldemort's infatuation with niche content creator JustHarry. The entire internet is baffled.

This is a Muggle HarryMort Youtube AU told epistolary-style with screenshots, comments, text threads, and it's the funniest thing I've ever read. Every single icon and screenshot is a joke and I still find new things to laugh at on every reread. As a bonus, this fic inspired one of my very favourite confused-bi!Ron-Romione Muggle AUs, HOW TO BUILD WATER WHEEL by doshu

day five | a non-ao3 fic

not as a last resort by Arabella summary: Hermione and Ron, a snowstorm, and Hagrid's cabin. Takes place during fifth year. This story was written prior to the release of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."

Now only available on a wayback machine capture of sugarquill.net, one of my first favourite fics and my introduction to the "only one bed trope"! This fic surprisingly holds up, despite being written before half the series' worth of characterization. Some things make me laugh looking back (like the fanfic writers' steadfast belief that the yule ball would be an annual event) but overall it's just as sweet and romantic as the first time I read it when I was 14.

day six | an unreliable narrator fic

the disappointments of cormac mclaggen by morgs_writes(orphan_account) summary: Cormac McLaggen has a hard life, made even worse when Ron Weasley starts stealing everything Cormac desires.

Oh Cormac, HUGE BOY, one of my problematic faves, thinks he's the one who holds all the power when it comes to the Slug Club holiday party. 🙄

day seven | a canon compliant fic

the mountain tomb by @nought-shall-go-ill summary: A man and a woman meet at the base of a mountain. With no memories, they don’t know each other, they don’t know their past, they don’t even know their own names. All they know is that they have a difficult journey ahead that they must take together — one that they fear could destroy them in the process.

Since I read a lot of canon-compliant fic I wanted to choose something for this rec that really pushes the boundaries of what that can mean. This fic is misty and ambiguous and fantastical (even for fanfic of a fantasy series) and so worth reading.

#hprecfest2023 #fic recs

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gladiatefm · 2 years ago

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" mina , what a beauty you are . but it isn't just your looks that so many remember you for , you're quite the vicious little victor . the iconic shot of you soaked in blood has never grown old , but what can we expect this time ? "

" sadly , your brother cain passed away recently . tell me , mina , do you think he would be proud to watch you go into the arena with blanche ? "

" you've achieved so much these last twelve years , is there anything else you wish you could do ? any regrets ? "

she once had played it bashful , humble even , but the capitol is well aware of mina's capabilities ever since those faithful games so many years ago . a pretty girl with nice hair , sparkly clothes , bright eyes — they'd had dolls made of her and the children of the capitol had begged their mothers for silver wigs . now she has been passed around by them like hand me down clothes . no point in acting shy now , not after they've all seen her soul bared before them .

" oh , caesar , is that really what i'm remembered for ? " a teasing smile , a flashing of sharp teeth . of course it is , mina with her axe clutched between trembling fingers , the proof of what she is capable of soaked into her skin . she pushes back that famous hair from her shoulders , her pale skin is dotted with little red sparkles , a reminder of who she is . " i don't want to ruin the surprise , but i am a very protective sister . if anyone lays a finger on blanche , i'll rip it off with my teeth if i have to . "

the crowd is delighted by this — a little bit of violence to get them in the mood , remind them of what they love about the games . the disgust wars with her self control , to write itself across her pretty face . let them see what she thinks of the sorry lot of them as she lounges before them , dainty fingers brushing through the folds of her dress .

" sadly , your brother cain passed away recently . tell me , mina , do you think he would be proud to watch you go into the arena with blanche ? "

the reminder of cain pulls the floor out from beneath her , mina's stomach plummets and she takes a moment to collect herself . face impassive , she meets caesar's gaze then looks out at the audience . there is pain there , but more than that there is anger . these people looking upon their precious victors with such devastation , as though they could reach for her , protect her behind their hands though they would just as easily look the other way . there's too much entertainment in watching them die .

" i don't know what he would think , really . someone killed him . " a gasp from the crowd , and she can see the cogs turning in caesar's head , how to backtrack when she is looking on with such rage . " and i will never get to know what any of my family think . " he cuts in quick —

" you've achieved so much these last twelve years , is there anything else you wish you could do ? any regrets ? "

" that's the thing , caesar , there is so much that i need to do , but i don't know if i ever will . " she sighs , deflating into the comfortable couch . she wonders how much they cost , if it would pay to feed half of her district two times over . most likely .

" what do you need to do , mina ? " caesar asks , delighted to be off the topic of her brother , but there is a suspicion in his eyes that worries her . does he know ? certainly he must suspect it , and she stares him down . a challenge in her gaze .

" well , caesar . unfortunately , i just found out that i'm pregnant . " this raises the roof , and caesar looks away in a panic . the crowd is standing in their seats , shouting , wondering isn't there anything they can do to save their favourites from returning to the arena ? as mina is escorted off of the stage , she can hear caesar calling for a commercial break .

#implied coercion tw #mj.event #mj.task #𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆 — event .#𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆 — task .

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nine9tailed · 9 months ago

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Lee Yeon wasn't terribly excited about being babysat. He'd done dozens of expeditions on his own, with his own hired teams, and he'd always come out of it in one piece. Sure, there might have been other deaths, but not for him. He'd always paid handsomely to express his regret whenever anything went wrong and surely he didn't like when they did, but he could hardly be blamed. The truth was, the sort of people he normally hired knew what they were getting into and did it anyway - the things people would do for credits never did fail to astound him.

Marching into ferocious jungles, climbing unstable mountain sides, taking down savage beasts or risking disease and sickness all for trinkets that had no value to anyone outside Yeon and perhaps those who wished to buy and possess them. And more often than not, there was no guarantee that the items would even be found. Yeon was a collector and once you had most of what you wanted, it often became more difficult and perilous to find the things you didn't. All that aside, he'd always done just find without a Jedi. He wasn't completely useless on his own. Even if he hired trackers and bounty hunters and mercenaries to do the heavy lifting, he was capable.

Trained in numerous arts native to his home planet, and also in many that were popular on Coruscant where he spent so much of his time. Hand Yeon a sword and he could fight as well as any duelist, much to his brothers chagrin. He might have appeared a vapid, gilded idiot, an unfortunate selection by his planet for senator, and he was fine with allowing such an image to remain, but the truth was that he was a different man than most people knew. He was older than most of his colleagues, thanks to the genetics of his species. He had gained a great deal of knowledge and dare he say it, wisdom over the years. He knew things, enough that could fill a few hundred books, a few hundred datapads.

He knew what people thought of him and simply did not care. He was good at his job, good for his people, though often he appeared self interested and even corrupt - such was the game one played. Unlike the senator from Naboo, he had no desire to openly challenge the populist vote, the carefully curated attempts by Palpatine and his allies to turn the war to their favor. He understood how power worked and was happy to watch it playout until the right time. Let them squabble. When the dust settled, Yeon and the people of Joseon would be fine, as they always were.

Meanwhile, Palpatine had decided that since rumors had been swirling about the tragic fate of his last adventure (it hard hardly even been fatal), that Senator Lee required assistance. Once Yeon had divulged where exactly he was hoping to go, Palpatine had been insistent. It would have been rude to argue, though he was certain he had seniority. It was better to indulge the old man, anyway. He had no idea what to expect from a Jedi escort - he'd never actually met one. When Obi-Wan arrived, Yeon was mildly surprised to see he looked quite like he did on the holonet. He hadn't been expecting the Negotiator. And he was polite! Oh, that was no fun.

It would have been fine by Yeon if the man had resented playing babysitter as much as Yeon resented needing one, but alas, Obi-Wan appeared in good spirits. Yeon leant forward, bowing slightly at an incline that probably indicated respect, though Obi-Wan would likely to have to earn it. "A pleasure to meet you. You're a...general, aren't you? Drew the short straw, I guess." He didn't know much, just what he'd seen in the holovids but he was certain Palpatine didn't care that much for his safety. Then, Yeon smiled. "It's a relic. Well, it's supposed to be. No one's seen in it in several hundred years, so I guess we could just find anything and claim it's the real one. I like the chase as much as the acquisition, and I've been looking for this one for a while. Do you like treasure hunts?"

@nin9tailed

"I will protect Mister Lee with my life." That was what he had said to Chancellor Palpatine in his opulent office. Palpatine's smile was still stuck in Obi-Wan's mind while he was on his way to the rendezvous point to meet the man he was supposed to accompany on an expedition. Each time Obi-Wan met the Chancellor, he felt uneasy about him. His smile looked innocent enough but his eyes had a knowing glint to them. It must be his imagination. The war made them all paranoid.

Of course Obi-Wan had wondered why Palpatine wanted him to escort Lee Yeon explictly. Without wanting to sound arrogant, there were more pressing matters that required Obi-Wan's attention, but the Council made it clear that they were in no position to refuse. Lee Yeon's connections to the upper echelons of Coruscant's social life and the Senate as well were very valuable, making him a high priority.

And Obi-Wan would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the idea of taking a break from warfare and travel to a planet he has not yet been to.

At the rendesvouz point, Obi-Wan bowed his head in polite greeting. Lee Yeon looked younger than expected. "Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service. Before we begin our journey I would like to hear more about this expedition. What is it that you're looking for exactly, Mister Lee? The more information I have, the better I can protect you."

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silver-tongued-bby · 4 years ago

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Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

#loki mcu #dom!loki x you #dom!loki x you smut #dom!loki x sub!reader #dom!loki x reader #ceo!loki #loki x you smut #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston loki #loki fic

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wrestlezaynia · 3 years ago

Text

"Kissing My Best Friend Challenge."

"What are you watching?" Kevin asks curiously, taking a seat beside Sami on the bed and peering over his shoulder.

Sami glances up from his phone, flashing Kevin a welcoming smile as he joins him on the bed. "Oh, just some trend on TikTok where you kiss your best friend and see their reaction." He explains.

"Sounds dumb. Wanna try it?" Kevin asks, scooting closer.

Sami's heartbeat starts to quicken. "You want to kiss me?" He asks, his gaze drifting to Kevin's lips, suddenly forgetting how to breathe.

"What's wrong, scared you might enjoy it?" Kevin asks, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

Attempting to swallow the lump forming in his throat, Sami nods in response. His eyes meeting Kevin's in a heated stare. "Terrified."

The smirk fades and is replaced with a more serious expression. A look conveying both determination and fear, as he mentally prepares for what's to come. He draws a deep breath, his heart pounding. He meets Sami's gaze and time stands still. The worry and doubt soon dissipate, prompting him to lean in close. He glances at Sami one last time, before pressing his lips tenderly against the flustered redheads.

The suspense is killing him. His insides shaking with anticipation. The way Kevin is looking at him putting his stomach in knots. He could feel his breath hitch as Kevin advances closer. Twenty years of wondering if it would ever happen coming to fruition, as his lips connect with his own. His heart doing flips in his chest, goosebumps emerge on his skin. It was everything he imagined and more. He reaches down, cupping Kevin's face gently to deepen the kiss.

Curious to taste more, Kevin proceeds to lick Sami's bottom lip. As a natural response to Kevin's prodding, Sami adheres by opening his mouth, allowing Kevin further access. Once he's granted permission, he slips his tongue inside, massaging it hungrily against Sami's.

A soft gasp escapes Sami as Kevin's skilled tongue swirls wildly against his, exploring every crevice with expert precision. He always admired Kevin's ability to cut a promo, but who knew his mouth was capable of this. The kiss concludes, leaving the two men gasping for air.

Once the kiss breaks Kevin rests his forehead against Sami's, panting heavily. Right away he could sense something is wrong, as he leans back to look at Sami. "You okay?" He softly asks, eyes searching his.

Sami flashes him a reassuring smile, his concern for his well-being pulling at his heartstrings. "Yeah, I just...have to catch my breath." He explains, still struggling to regulate his breathing.

"That good, huh?" Kevin asks, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Sami's comment succeeding in stroking his already massive ego.

Sami returns the smirk, inflating his ego further by releasing a dreamy sigh before whispering: "Amazing." His gaze unwavering.

Kevin's heart skips a beat, the intensity in Sami's eyes igniting a fire within his soul. "You wanna do it again?" He asks breathlessly.

Processing words proves challenging (even for Sami) in that moment, so rather than articulating a response, he settles on nodding his approval. Wanting to be the one to initiate the kiss, he beats Kevin to the punch, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

It didn't take long for the kiss to become more heated, as Sami's body melds with Kevin's, pushing him into the mattress. "I'm sorry." Sami apologizes sheepishly, backing away but still remaining close.

"It's okay, I want you to." Kevin coaxes, desire building in his soft brown eyes. "I want you to be my first, Sami."

Sami could feel heat rise to his cheeks. "I'm flattered you want me to be your first Kev, but I-" he pauses, bracing himself for the impending wrath Kevin would soon bestow upon him. "I'm not a virgin."

Kevin's face fell. The fact that another man had been intimate with Sami, his Sami was enough to make his blood boil. "Did you love him?" He asks, turning his face away to avoid eye contact.

A knowing smile graces Sami's lips, detecting the jealousy in Kevin's tone. "No." He replies softly, tilting Kevin's chin to meet his gaze. "But I love you." He confesses, guiding Kevin closer until their lips touch.

Tagging the crew: @shanie-the-toyaddict, @coloursflyaway, @low-x-battery, @riveliciousx, @the-cowbi and @zkivens.

#Zowens #Sami Zayn #Kevin Owens

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

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Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere concepts

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