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latenightdaydreams · 4 months

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Tutor (fem)

Loser!König x Bully!Reader

MDNI🔞

Part 2 Part 3

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, bully, oral, p in v, virginity loss

2.3k word count

📖

König is a loser. He’s a 23-year-old virgin college student who is too scared to talk to women. He would much rather stay home and build Gundam’s, play video games, or work on his schoolwork. In public, he is quiet and timid. He tries to blend in to not be seen. Being a whole 6 '10, he can’t. As a child, he was constantly bullied for his size and being chubby. As an adult, he still gets picked on for being tall and awkward.

You are a part of the problem. A short, curvy, big-breasted bitch; the apple of his eye. König sits in the back of class and watches your hips sway as you walk to your seat. The way your breasts bounce like hentai boobies. His cock grows hard as you bend over, making your cleavage more visible to him. Just as he got lost in a trance, you snap him out of it.

“What are you looking at? Freak!”

Your hands on your hips, a disgusted look on your face. König’s face turns red as he realizes that you’ve caught him in the act. You flip him off and turn to sit. He reaches down to adjust his boner, taking a deep breath and letting out a small sigh.

After class, as everyone stands to pack their bags, he stays seated, looking at his cell phone. He has your Instagram profile opened on his phone, gazing at a bikini picture you posted this summer. You look absolutely perfect in your tiny pink bikini. He has become so lost in your photos; he didn’t realize you were walking past him to leave.

“What the fuck?” A loud laugh breaks out.

König looks up to see that you caught him looking at your profile. He turns off the screen of his phone and clears his throat. Inside his chest, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from embracement.

“Sorry.” His voice is meek as he avoids eye contact with you.

“Fucking loser.” You scoff while walking away.

This was going to be a long year.

Three months into the school year, you haven’t turned in one assignment yet and have failed the few tests you’ve had. The dean sent you a message telling you that if you don’t raise your grades, you would be at risk of being put on academic probation. You needed a tutor, and fast.

König sits in his dorm room at his desk, working on building Lego set #21348, when he hears a knock at his door. He looks over his shoulder at his door, trying to decide if he wants to deal with people. After a few seconds, he stands to answer the door.

Once he opens the door, his eyes grow wide seeing you standing there. “Oh, h-hey y/n.”

“Hey König.” You smile up at him and push him aside, walking into his room. His room is simple and neat. Robot figures anywhere he can place them and a Lego set on his desk. You walk over and look at the set, König walking up behind you.

“So, what is this? Star Wars?”

König tilts his head confused about how wrong you are. Do you even know what Star Wars is? “Uh, no. Star Wars is a space themed futuristic story…” He could see the lack of interest on your face. “So, why are you here?”

“Geez, you’re a bigger fucking nerd than I thought you were.” You say pushing over a mini figure he has posed on the desk. His mouth hangs open, stopping himself from asking you to not do that. He watches as you turn and take a seat on his desk chair.

You look up at König as he towers over you. “You’re smart, right?”

“I guess.” König rubs the back of his neck feeling bashful.

“Well, I’m failing math, and I need a tutor. The issue is… well, I can’t afford one. So I was wondering if you could tutor me.”

This isn’t what he was expecting, well more of not what he hoped for. “I don’t have time to tutor. Sorry.”

Your smile drops and you stand up. “Too busy? You’re always in here building stupid fucking Legos or robot’s models.”

“Technically Gundam’s are mechs, not robots like a transformer.”

“Wow. Okay.” You sound annoyed and uninterested. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

“I already said I can’t.” His voice gets even more timid.

You’re not use to people saying no to you, especially not pathetic men who worship the ground you walk on. In fact, you hate being told no. How fucking dare he.

“So, you can sit and fucking gawk at me, stalk my social media accounts, but you can’t help me for a few fucking hours?” You push his muscular chest.

He stumbles backwards, actually intimidated by you. Speechless, he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes drop to your breasts as you keep walking to him. Not one thought in his mind other than how hot you look at this exact moment.

“I- I uh, I.”

“What? You forgot how to talk?” You push him once more and he falls back on to his bed. As soon as he does, your eyes drift down to the tent growing in his pants and you laugh. König’s eyes go wide as your hand reaches out, grasping his boner through his sweats; his face burning hot. He looks up at you in a daze.

“Oh, wow. Loser actually has a fat cock.” Your other hand grabs his jaw and forces him to look into your eyes. You lean in and lick from his lips to his nose before moving back and letting go of him.

König’s heart is fluttering in his chest, this feels like a dream. His eyes watch like a hungry dog as you pull your tight fitted shirt, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. Your hands unbutton your jeans and expose a thin thong that barely covers your fat pussy lips.

“Why are you still dressed?” Your voice shocks him out of his daze.

Quickly, he pulls his shirt off. A ripped muscular body is not what you expected him to have under his baggy clothing. He drops his sweat pants along with his boxers allowing his cock to spring free. König, now nude, stands in front of you frozen. His gaze lingering on your pussy. You’re the first woman he’s seen naked in person.

“Do you have condoms?”

He looks at his bedside table, even though he is well aware he has none. “Um, no. I don’t.”

“I knew you were probably a virgin.” He blushes and looks down when you say this. You walk closer to him. “Are you?”

“Ja, I am.”

“No fucking wonder. Lay down.” You demand in a strict tone.

König jumps like a drill sergeant to yell at him. He quickly gets on his bed and looks at you. His cock twitching with excitement. You climb onto the bed with him, straddling his massive body. His hands instinctively rest on your thighs as you lean in and kiss his lips.

“How about I teach you—” You kiss him in between talking. “How to fuck—” His fingers squeeze your thighs. “And you tutor me?”

Without thinking, König nods his head enthusiastically.

“Good. We will start with math.” You giggle, reaching your hand behind his head to pull the pillows away from behind him.

König looks confused by your comment. Math? Then his eyes go wide as you straddle his face. Your twat lingers above him. He gazes up as if you’ve just shown him God. If he could take your scent and make air fresheners, he would. His cock is upright, erect, waiting to taste you.

“Stick your tongue out, big boy.” You lean forward and place your hands on his chest. One hand reaches forward and jerks his cock.

König sticks his tongue out eagerly, watching your body as you lower yourself onto his face. Your pussy rests on his mouth and nose, hips rocking back and forth on his tongue. His eyes flutter closed as he tastes pussy for the first time. How could he have lived this long without tasting this sweet nectar?

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you down closer to his face. His tongue rapidly laps at your cunt, slurping and drinking your wetness. You moan, eyes closing as you continue to grind; he’s surprisingly skilled.

“You want me to suck your cock?”

“Ja, bitte.” He groans, his sound muffled from you sitting on his face.

Leaning forward, you pull his foreskin down and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. He lets out a moan, his toes curling. Your hands move in motion with your head as you bob your head up and down on his cock. König moans into your sopping wet cunt. He’s in heaven.

König’s hips thrust forward to match your rhythm. One of his hands moves from your thigh up your body to squeeze your breast before roaming back down. When you pull your mouth away from his cock, he thrust forward even more, craving your friction. You lift yourself up off of him, his hands hold on to your thighs tighter as if trying to keep you on him. Reluctantly, he lets you go; swiping his tongue between your folds once more as you stand.

You move your body to the side of him. He watches you as he licks his lips, trying to savor the taste of you. The heat of your pussy radiates over your cock.

“You’re buying me a Plan B right after this.”

“I will.” His eyes are glued to yours.

Slowly you rock your hips over his cock before grasping it at the base. You look into his eyes as you lower yourself on him.

König’s mouth drops open and he lets out a loud groan. His eyes glued to your tight cunt stretching around his cock. He grabs at the blanket underneath him, squeezing it to the point his knuckles are turning white. He can’t last long in your pussy.

“Mein Gott, you- your pussy—” He can’t form a coherent sentence.

His hands reach out for your breasts as you bounce on him. You have the most incredible pair of tits he has ever seen. He’s always known you were hot, but seeing you like this, not even Aphrodite couldn't compare.

You slap away his hand and lean forward. “Grab my ass and fuck me.”

König nods, having seen this in porn before, he knows what to do. He thinks. His large hands grasp your fat ass and squeeze his fingers into the supple flesh; bending his legs at the knee, he begins to thrust up into you.

As he tries his hardest to not cum, his thrust is slow. He looks at the ceiling as his mind is running 110mph. You grab his jaw again, forcing him to look at you.

“Fuck me. Harder.” You demand of him.

“I don’t…want to hurt you.” He struggles to speak, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes.

“If you don’t fuck me hard, we are done here.”

König would not let his crush on the last two semesters just walk away, especially not since he got you to this part. Guys like him don’t get women like you. He grabs you and rolls you over on to the bed, slamming you down a little harder than he meant to. The look on your face tells him you didn’t mind one bit.

He grabs your hips and pulls you to him, slipping his cock back inside of your tight little cunny. You moan out as your hands grab his arms. König doesn’t hold back as he restricts your movements underneath him using his massive size. He pulls his hips back far before slamming down into you. His enormous cock being rammed deep inside of you, deeper than you can take.

“Oh, fuck! Like that you fucking freak!” You moan out.

König lets out a small growl as he ravishes your body, ruining your cunt for any other man. His mouth clashes into yours, desperate for your kiss. A trail of his hot wet kisses leaving from your mouth down to your breasts. He bites the skin around your areola, marking you as his for your stupid fuck buddy to see.

You push him back. “Rub my clit.” You reach for his hand and guide it so he knows where to touch. “Do small circles.”

He nods and begins to rub slowly at first until you yell at him to go faster. König lets out a surprised moan as he feels you tightening around him. Is this what a female orgasm is? Fuck yes! His hips faster, his rhythm slightly off as he tries to also focus on your clit.

“Don’t stop.” König watches in amazement as you arch your back and tremble. Your pussy becomes so wet it's splashing as he rubs it. He feels on top of the world.

Instantly, a loud pitched moan leaves his throat. A stupid smile crosses his face as he eyes go slightly crossed. He cums deep inside of your pussy. As his body naturally falls forward you push him off to the side.

König lays on his back, on cloud nine. His pale eyes study your face and your body as you lay beside him.

“So,” your breathing is still heavy, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we can start working on my tutoring.”

He nods, willing to give you anything you ask for at this point. Mentally, he is not over the fact he just ate and fucked y/n, you, your pussy.

You stand from the bed and begin to get dressed. Your cunt hurts, König fucks like a mating bull. He’s a good fuck though, there is not denying that.

“Oh, and if you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

“I understand.” König watches you as you get dressed with hearts in his eyes. “What are we?”

You stop and look at him for a moment before letting out a small laugh and shaking your head.

Part 2 Part 3

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig x y/n #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod smut #konig x reader smut #könig x y/n #könig x you #konig x you #smut #cod konig #könig call of duty

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kikyoupdates · 29 days

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Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑏𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

prologue | story masterlist | next

Itadori helps you to your feet, and you can’t help but stare at your hand, at the way that it’s tightly grasping his. Even now, it still feels like a dream. You’re actually holding Itadori Yuji’s hand, like it’s no big deal.

Honestly, it’s almost impossible not to fangirl.

But perhaps it’s a good thing that your nose is bleeding right now (not really), because it prevents you from making a total fool of yourself, and so, with great reluctance, you let go of Itadori’s hand and start walking.

“Man, I’m really sorry about this,” Itadori apologizes again, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I feel awful. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I know apologizing doesn’t actually help much, but I’m seriously sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you!”

Yes, your nose hurts like a bitch, but being kicked with that soccer ball allowed you to meet him, so in the grand scheme of things, you’re not complaining.

Still, there’s a lot of blood, so you definitely need to see the school nurse.

It’s actually for the best that Itadori is walking with you and guiding you along, his hand resting gently against your back in case you sway unsteadily and trip over your own feet. Without him, you wouldn’t have a damn clue where you’re going. It’s the first time you’ve ever stepped foot in this school, after all. Based on what those girls said earlier, it sounds like you’re a recent transfer student or something…? That’s a rather convenient plot device. Although this whole situation is so ridiculous that you would expect nothing less, really.

“Just a bit further,” Itadori encourages. He offers you a bright smile, and you have to squint through your eyes, because he may as well the sun. His protagonist status couldn’t be any more obvious.

Eventually, you arrive at the infirmary, and Itadori promptly slides the door open and pokes his head into the room.

“Um, excuse me? Miss nurse? There’s a student here who got hurt pretty badly, and she needs help.”

There’s no response. You follow him and step inside the room. Sure enough, it’s empty, so you can only assume the nurse isn’t here right now. She’s off doing god-knows what. Seriously, what is it with school nurses and never being around to do their jobs?

“Uh-oh,” you say, a few droplets of blood slipping through the cracks of your fingers and splattering onto the floor. “I don’t feel so good…”

You’re hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, and Itadori catches you in his arms before you can fall onto the floor. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you earlier. You already know from watching the anime how abnormally strong he is. He lifts you up as if you’re weightless, then gently places you down on one of the beds.

“Uh, crap,” Itadori mumbles, brows pulling together in concern. “I’m not that good with this kind of stuff, but for now… just lie down, okay? I’ll get you some tissues.”

You watch him scurry around the room, nearly knocking things over in the process, but he returns to your bedside before long, offering you a needlessly large pile of tissues.

…actually, considering how bad your nosebleed is, those tissues still might not be enough.

“Thanks,” you say, shifting onto your side so that you can face him. You grab a few tissues and press them to your poor, aching nose.

What a terrible first impression. Here you are, having finally met one of your favorite characters of all time, with blood gushing down your face. It’s incredibly unflattering, you have to admit. Most people would probably think it’s pretty gross. You’re lucky that Itadori is the nicest, friendliest person ever.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes for the millionth time. The poor guy looks guilty beyond belief. It’s not his fault that he’s got superhuman strength. He can blame the author of Jujutsu Kaisen for that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, still holding the tissues close to your nose, so your voice comes out a bit muffled. “Accidents happen. I’ll live.”

“But still! You look like you’re really suffering, and I just—” He stops to sigh. “Anyways, it’s my bad. I can’t change what happened. I just wish I knew a better way to help.”

“Seriously, I’m okay,” you insist. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. Um… earlier, I heard someone say your name. Itadori, right? I’m [Name].”

You obviously already know his name. You know even more about him than he does, to be honest. You know what the future holds in store for him, and how soon, his life will change forevermore.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name].” Itadori chuckles weakly, hanging his head in defeat. “If only we’d met on better terms. After today, I swear I’m never playing soccer ever again. I’m going on strike! Even if those guys keep pestering me to play with them, it won’t happen!”

“There’s really no need to go that far. I promise I’ll be fine.” Hesitantly, you pull the tissues away from your nose. It seems like the bleeding has mostly stopped. “See? I’m already getting better. This is no biggie.”

“Damn. You’re really tough,” Itadori marvels. “Most people wouldn’t be as calm as you. It’s badass!”

No, I’m just too busy fangirling over you right now.

You obviously keep your thoughts to yourself, but it’s impossible to fully suppress the smile that keeps rising to your lips. None of this makes any sense, and truthfully, you can’t help but wonder what happened in the real world—the world you’re from. You wonder about how your parents and friends are reacting to your disappearance, or if you’ve even disappeared at all. Maybe this is some sort of alternate reality. Maybe you’re living within both worlds, simultaneously, without even realizing it.

Ugh. It’s probably best not to think too hard about it. This whole thing is way too trippy.

"The nurse still isn’t here,” Itadori remarks. “I guess it is lunchtime. Well, either way, I’ll stay and wait with you until she’s back.”

“I appreciate it,” you smile.

Obviously, the canon plot of Jujutsu Kaisen has yet to kick off, because this is just an ordinary high school, which means he hasn’t met Fushiguro or Gojo at this point. It also means that he’s incapable of seeing curses. But for some reason, you are.

You were able to see that weird insect-like curse from before, when no one else could. That means that you must at least have an above-average amount of cursed energy, right? The curse also ran away when you approached it. Maybe that’s why? Because it sensed that you were aware of it?

Who knows, really. But you suppose it’s a good thing that you’re able to perceive curses. There are some exceptionally dangerous ones out there, and you feel much more at ease knowing that you won’t be completely blind to them.

For a little while, you just stare at Itadori. You make a point of studying all his features, the same features you’ve only ever been able to glimpse across a screen, or while flipping through the pages of a manga. It’s so surreal that you’re able to hold a conversation with him like this. It’s strange—but also exhilarating—to see him looking your way and to know that the smile on his face is directed towards you.

But… all that being said, you know what kind of world Jujutsu Kaisen is. You know how incredibly dangerous the plot will become, and how your life can easily be put at risk. Every fan dreams of being able to interact with their favorite characters, but just because you’re now living in a fictional world, it doesn’t mean you have a death wish.

You won’t be able to spend much time with Itadori. Soon, he’ll go off to Jujutsu High, and you’ll probably never see him again. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even talk after this. The only reason you met was because of some fortunate accident that granted you the rare opportunity to speak to him. He’s a popular guy, after all. There are plenty of other people he’ll be spending his time with.

Still, it was nice while it lasted. You should be content with just getting to meet him at all. You should be grateful for an opportunity that normally wouldn’t exist.

“Oh, there she is,” Itadori perks up. It seems like the nurse has just returned, and he stands up and hastily bows to her. “I’m so sorry! I accidentally kicked [Name] in the face with a soccer ball, and she got really hurt because of me! Please take a look at her to make sure she’s okay!”

“You did what?” the nurse blinks, and she hurriedly glances over at you to find you flashing her a thumbs-up, with a wad of bloody tissues pressed to your nose. A heavy sigh falls from her lips. “Oh, good grief.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you reassure.

“Let me be the judge of that, please. You should run along and enjoy what’s left of your lunchtime,” she tells Itadori. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry.”

Itadori frowns. “I hope she’ll be alright. Is there anything at all I can help with? I’ll stay behind if you need me to, just so I can—”

“Everything will be fine,” the nurse insists, unscrewing a jar filled with cotton balls. “Classes will be starting soon, so just let me handle this. Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. I’m sure you know best.” Itadori looks back at you once more. He smiles in a way that conveys how bad he still feels. “I’ll get going now, [Name]. Again, I’m really sorry for what happened. I hope you feel better soon.”

He leaves moments later, and you exhale softly. This was a remarkably coincidental meeting. The two of you hardly know each other, and you doubt another opportunity like this will arise. It was destined to be a one-time thing. That’s what you instinctively believe.

But of course, you’re wrong.

“[Name], hey! Good morning!”

You blink repeatedly. It’s a brand-new day, and you’re back at school again. Yesterday you went home to find that your parents in this world look exactly like your real parents, except, well, they’re not. They act like them, too. Mostly, at least. In a way, it’s reassuring to have them around, but since they aren’t as bewildered as you are by this new world, you can tell they haven’t been isekai’d. They’re just kind of here. Like placeholders, or something.

Anyways, nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. You had the same kind of interactions with your parents as you normally would. You know better than to question all the semantics, so you’re just going to go with the flow and make the most of this situation.

But right now, you’re rightfully taken aback, because Itadori is grinning ear-to-ear while he waves to you.

“Um, hey,” you reply, blinking yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Itadori keeps smiling. “By the way, how are you feeling today? I heard you went home yesterday after lunch to get some rest, but the nurse told me your nose wasn’t broken or anything, which is a relief.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you nod. “Apparently it’s not uncommon to get a nosebleed after getting hit in the face. It doesn’t always mean it’s broken. So, I don’t need to go to the hospital to get it realigned or anything. Which is good, because I was really dreading that. I heard it hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure it does,” Itadori laughs. He stops himself, though, looking very sheepish all of a sudden. “But, uh… seriously, I’m really sorry about what happened. I feel like I shouldn’t be joking around after what I did to you.”

Aw. What a cutie.

He’s a sweetheart, no doubt about it. You wish you could express how much you’re grateful just for the opportunity to even talk to him, but if you tell him the truth, he’ll definitely think you’re crazy. And so will everyone else.

“Don’t stress about it,” you smile. “There’s just a bit of swelling and slight bruising. I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Itadori beams at you. “You’re so nice, [Name]! Thanks so much for not holding this against me. I’ll try to figure out a way to make it up to you in the meantime.”

You keep trying to reassure him that there’s really no need, but he seems determined to right his wrongs. Together, you walk into the school building, quickly lock up some of your belongings, then you head to the classrooms.

“This is my class,” you say, stopping in front of one of the rooms. Yesterday you skimmed through some of your relevant school documentation, like your student ID, enrollment papers, etcetera. You’re a new transfer student, so thankfully, there were a bunch of papers lying around at home for you to consult.

Itadori tilts his head to the side. “Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you. I stop by here pretty often. A few of my friends are in this class.”

“I just transferred in recently, so that’s probably why.”

“Oh, right. I think I remember hearing that we got a new transfer student. Are you liking it so far? I mean, apart from getting kicked with a soccer ball, obviously.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s been… good. Um, yeah. I have no complaints.”

Mostly because my memories of this place don’t date back any farther than yesterday.

The hallways are bustling with students hurrying to get to class, so regretfully, it doesn’t look like you have much more time to loiter around and chat.

“I guess I should head to my classroom now,” Itadori says. “But I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better! I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Yeah, see you around,” you smile.

He walks off, and within moments of stepping away from you, some other student comes up to him and drapes an arm around his shoulder. He’s absurdly popular, of course. The kind of person that others naturally gravitate towards.

You smile, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s still crazy how this is even happening right now. Talking to him always leaves you breathless, in a sense. It leaves you feeling giddier than you can even put into words.

Even though your nose is still a bit sore, you’re in such good spirits that it hardly even fazes you, so you turn around with a spring in your step.

Only to hastily clear your throat.

“Um, sorry if this is a weird question, but… does anyone know which desk I sit at?”

Lunch rolls around, and Itadori returns.

It turns out that when he said he’d see you again soon, he meant really soon. You watch, mouth agape, as he excitedly waves to you from your classroom’s doorway.

“[Name]!” he calls out. “[Name], hey! Over here!”

He’s as expressive as ever, and your classmates don’t even look surprised that he’s calling your name with such enthusiasm, despite you having only just transferred in. Itadori’s so friendly that it’s practically a given he’ll get along with everyone.

You walk over and give him a curious look. “Itadori? What’s going on?”

“Nothing much,” he grins. “Just wanted to ask if you wanted to eat lunch together. My treat! It’s the least I can do for you, all things considered.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. I packed a lunch from home,” you say, gesturing towards the bento box on your desk.

He scratches his cheek. “Hm, okay. Well, I guess I won’t buy you lunch today, but I’ll definitely do it next time! Did you want to eat together anyways?”

No way.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s crazy enough that you were able to meet him in the first place, but now he’s even going out of his way to seek you out? You suspect it’s mainly because he feels guilty for injuring you and wants to make sure you’re okay, but still.

Itadori Yuji could actually become your friend?

“Y-Yes,” you blurt, immediately cringing at how excited you sound. “Um, yes. Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to eat lunch with you.”

“Awesome!”

His grin shows no sign of disappearing, and you race back into the classroom to quickly grab your bento box, heart fluttering all the while.

Together, you walk through the hallways, and it looks like he’s leading you someplace. You can only assume it must be his usual lunch spot.

Eventually, he stops in front of another classroom. It has a big plaque above it that reads Home Economics, but there’s also a paper plastered to the door. A paper that says something else entirely.

Before you can even comment, Itadori slides the door open and looks back at you, grinning yet again.

“Welcome… to the Occult Research Club.”

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saphronethaleph · 3 months

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Volume Pricing

“New information from the intelligence take, Senator, Admiral,” General Madine said. “To summarize… the Empire has begun construction of a second Death Star.”

“That is troubling news,” Mon Mothma frowned. “Do we have any information on where?”

“No, Senator,” Madine replied. “I’m sorry.”

“What about on who is managing the construction?” Mothma asked. “I know I’m asking a lot, General, but I need to know what there is to know.”

“That’s just it, Senator,” Madine told her. “There’s very little to tell – the summary of the report is simply that the Empire has begun construction.”

“Surely we must have more than that,” Ackbar protested.

“I’m bringing up the report now,” Madine told them. “...oh, yes. I see why they’re sure.”

He put the datapad on the table. “It’s an economic analysis.”

Ackbar blinked.

“...explain, please,” he requested. “How can an economic analysis tell us that a second Death Star is being built?”

“The price of quadanium, durasteel, and other major structural metals,” Madine replied. “Their full analysis is in the paper, but to summarize… we know there was a major pause in the construction of the first Death Star, and with hindsight the timing of this can be detected in the market prices for the structural metals and other aspects of the first Death Star’s construction. There is simply nothing else in the galaxy which calls for, among other things, two hundred and forty thousand cubic kilometres of quadanium armour plate.”

Ackbar gasped for a moment.

“Two hundred and-!?” he repeated. “That was the surface armour?”

“That was the surface armour,” Madine confirmed. “The Death Star’s construction involved the delivery of approximately twelve thousand cubic kilometres of quadanium averaged over a year for the armour alone, plus the metals required to build about two million cubic kilometres of battle station underneath the armour. It’s roughly equivalent in terms of volume to ten thousand times the entire Imperial fleet – it’s no exaggeration to say that, in hindsight, the construction of the first Death Star was the economic influence on the galactic economy over the last twenty-five years.”

“I believe I understand,” Mothma nodded. “So… the analysts have spotted the same thing?”

Madine waved his hand.

“Not quite, Senator,” he replied. “They’ve spotted an economic anomaly at least ten times the size. It’s straining the galaxy’s ability to produce durasteel and quadanium, keeping up with the demand is to a first approximation impossible… either this second Death Star is going to be finished in less than two years, or they’re building one even bigger than the first one was.”

The senator and the admiral exchanged a glance with the easy communication of people who’d been working together for a very long time.

“We will need to confirm this,” Mothma said. “No, not confirm that a second Death Star is being built, confirm where it is. Find out all the information we can.”

“Yes, Senator,” Madine agreed.

“We may need to contact the Bothans,” Ackbar suggested.

“Actually…” Madine mused. “I have a better idea.”

“You do?” Mothma asked.

Madine shrugged. “Go into business refining and supplying durasteel,” he said. “We’ll clearly make a good deal of money, and we can track where the shipments go…”

#star wars #mon mothma #admiral ackbar

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aetherdoesthings · 3 months

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hanahaki!reader x arlecchino

forethoughts: omg aether finally uploads?!?!? apologies for the long break; i was getting my life together, because there's a lot going on in my life right now all at once. nevertheless, this was inspired by my previous work of hanahaki!reader x nico robin, but with arlecchino because of @edgeray's idea! thanks buddy, couldn't have revived my blog without you. also i'm sorry if there are grammatical mistakes or errors, i wrote this at 2am at a sudden burst of inspiration and motivation.

notes: modern setting, y/n and arlecchino are famous actresses, fem!reader, gentle!arlecchino, hanahaki au

“And how long will filming take?” You sighed, biting down on a hateful tone as you looked at your assistant.

“Roughly a year, Ms. Y/N.” Your assistant replied, clicking a few buttons on her tablet.

“How much is Furina offering to have me star in it with her?”

“$10,000,000 Mora, Ms. Y/N.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, despite your makeup artist’s ‘friendly reminder’. That amount could be worth the turmoil and agony to have to be in a constant space with… her.

“Arlecchino has already signed on board to the project. Ms. Furina is waiting to hear from you.” Your assistant looks up at you. “Surely you would not pass up a deal like that just because she is in it?”

“Shut it, Navia.” You scowl.

Navia laughs. “I jest, Ms. Y/N. What about Arlecchino do you dislike anyways? I heard she is kind and respectful.”

“Yeah, like that gives you a golden star.” You rolled your eyes, finishing your glass of wine. It wasn’t that you disliked or loathed the actress. You respected her upbringing and career and found honor in being in the same tier as her. But something about her rubbed you the wrong way. Every time you watched one of her press interviews or promo videos, your stomach would feel ill, hollowing itself out and making your legs kick in the air like a kid on Christmas. Simply sickening and rotten. And now you were to do an entire movie with her.

“Hmn, fine. I’ll take it.” You sighed, leaning back on your couch. All for the Mora. All of the Mora. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s just one year. You survived with lousy and inadequate ‘colleagues’. Certainly you’d be able to survive the bane of your existence.

“Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you. It is a pleasure to finally meet and talk to you in person.” A familiar voice you only heard from behind the screen was now playing behind you. You turned your body, a curt smile on your face as you faced the disgustingly tall and surprisingly built woman (that looked so much bigger than what you saw on a screen), a dumb, cute and sweet grin plastered on her face. You acquiesced her offer, shaking her hand.

“And I share the same sentiment as you do, Arlecchino.” You smiled as politely as you could muster, suppressing your inner self and pummeling it for the sake of face. “I look…forward to working with you.”

Arlecchino’s lips turned into a thin line, her crimson eyes boring into yours, as if peering into your body to find that soul she tortured with just her appearance. You kept your smile, withdrawing your hand. “How was your flight here?”

Shock and surprise pierced that air tight smile of yours, allowing it to falter for a second. “I beg your pardon?”

“How was your flight?” Arlecchino repeated her question, an amused smile on her stupidly perfect and gorgeous face.

“It was… good.” You stammered, folding your arms.

Arlecchino chuckled. “Vague but straight to the point.”

“I prefer things to be like that.”

Arlecchino grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder. You had to bite back a shriek or gasp, nails digging into your palm as you tried to remain a smile. “Let us go to rehearsal, hmn? I’m certain Furina is eagerly waiting for us.”

A blockade started to emerge in your throat, your nails drawing blood as you nodded your head. “Sure, yeah, yeah. You go on ahead. I need to do something real quick.” You said, hoping Arlecchino would buy it.

“Alright then.” And she did, that lovely gullible soul. The minute Arlecchino walked out of earshot, a violent cough erupted from your throat, causing you to double over until it subsided. Looking down, you noticed a lone cherry blossom petal right by your feet. You massaged your throat, hoping to alleviate the sudden pain. Had that petal been there all along? But you were standing on open land without a tree in sight. Furina’s movie synopsis did not mention any cherry blossom trees. Surely, you couldn't have coughed up a petal. No, you did not cough up a petal. That stuff was out of the movies, not in reality. Your mind recalled back to an old movie you shot once, about the protagonist suffering from something called hanahaki disease, where the victim would cough up petals because of their love for someone. The protagonist was lovesick and had their eyes set on the other character, but died because the other person did not return their feelings. This wasn’t happening to you. Yes, the movie was based off of a true story, but certainly not. You were certain you were hallucinating.

“Y/N!” You heard Arlecchino’s voice call your name from afar.

“C-Coming!” No. You had to get yourself together. Come on, this was Arlecchino. That… elegant, beautiful, eloquent asshole who you always watched from afar but never had the chance to be with up close. But now you could. And this was how you reacted? Your stomach churned, as you swallowed anymore nonexistent petals down into your vat of acid before making your way to everyone.

Filming wasn’t too bad in the first few weeks. You and Arlecchino were to play star crossed lovers, and all that was scheduled was basic exposition. No petals came up, which supported your case that you were just hallucinating and definitely not a fictional disease. Until it came to the more intimate scenes.

“Alright, and action!” Furina exclaimed. Arlecchino’s character was pinning you to the wall, her finger on your chin.

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Arlecchino’s character sneered, her eyes boring into yours, her lips getting dangerously close.

“I-” You ducked your head in time to not cough into Arlecchino’s face, bringing a hand over your mouth as you coughed loudly, the air escaping your body as you wheezed.

“Cut! Everyone, take ten!” Furina yelled, and the crew murmured and resetted everything because of your sudden cough.

“Are you alright?” Arlecchino placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles in an effort to comfort you, her voice soft and gentle. A complete contrast of her character she portrayed. That did not comfort you at all, rather stir up a bubbling feeling in your lower parts, warmth rushing to your face.

You balled your fist, nodding your head as you forced yourself to meet Arlecchino’s eyes.

“I…” You stammered, words suddenly disappearing from your brain, as if Arlecchino was sucking it out with that crimson glow, radiating with warmth and concern, the grin on her face dissipating the moment she saw your soul momentarily leave your body.

“I-I’m alright. I-I’m so sorry.” You regurgitated. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s alright. Do you need some water?”

“That’ll… That’ll be good.”

Arlecchino nodded her head, patting your shoulder as she asked a staff member to grab you some water. “I’ll go talk to Furina for you. You just rest and recover, got it? I don’t want my acting partner to be ill.”

Oh, your acting partner already is ill. A voice inside of you replied back.

“Right, yeah. Thank you so much, Arlecchino.” You exclaimed, smiling back.

"Always, Y/N." Arlecchino walked away, waving her hand. "Get well soon."

The crew was busy packing everything up and preparing everything for tomorrow. Arlecchino was talking to Furina, most likely going over tomorrow’s shoot and your cough. As everyone around you was moving and busy, you were escorted away into a car, which drove you back to the makeup trailer. Alone in the backseat, you opened your fist, staring at the item in the dead center of your palm.

A goddamn cherry blossom petal.

No. This can’t be happening. What the heck is happening?! You forced yourself to breathe, staring at the curled petal. Why was this happening? All you did was be in close proximity with that damn Arlecchino, which made your heart flutter and start to drum, your stomach churn and mind go fuzzy, legs limp and-

No.

You did not have a crush on Arlecchino.

You could not have a crush on Arlecchino.

You were colleagues. Workers. She was the winner of multiple awards, she was the one who the paparazzi could never get a picture of, she was everything and you… you were…nothing. Nothing compared to what Arlecchino had done.

Yet you were here, forced to work together with her and even have to do intimate scenes with-

God strike me here and now. Or make me go into a fatal accident. You silently prayed to anyone who was listening.

Arlecchino would not be the reason you coughed and hacked up flower petals.

You refused to believe those soft crimson glow in her eyes she always had with you, those thin lips that always curled into a smile when you walked in the room, and those fingers that found a way to your shoulder, or cheek, or your waist would be the reason why you were coughing up petals, just like-

Hanahaki. The word taunted you. No. That couldn’t be.

You refused to believe you had fallen in love with Arlecchino, let alone die because of it. No. As long as you could breathe, you would not let yourself be a victim of love that you will never receive and have.

Arlecchino was going to be the reason the newspaper headline would read ‘Y/N FOUND DEAD IN HER BEDROOM FROM HANAHAKI DISEASE’ and lead numerous people to speculate who your Romeo was.

But in that ill state you were, a tiny part of you was at ease with that scenario.

#genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #the knave #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #aetherwrites

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 6

It's Wednesday! (I'm ignoring the clock that says it's 2 AM. It's totally still Wednesday. I haven't gone to bed yet which means it can't be Thursday.)

So, since it's obviously still Wednesday, it's time for another WIP Wednesday. We're getting into the real meat of the plot of this arc with this update! And now you'll maybe start to see where I'm gonna take this.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

And that was when a large, swirling-green gash opened up in the night sky and dozens of ghosts started pouring through.

“Oh man!” exclaimed Sam as they watched the ghosts wreak havoc on the street. “I’ve never seen this many ghosts attack at once!”

Danny held out his thermos as he stared. “I’m gonna need a bigger thermos.”

The ghosts all appeared to be wearing uniforms and held batons as they attacked civilians and police indiscriminately.

“Uh, Danny?” asked Tim. “Should we call in back up?”

“No!” One of the ghosts got close to their group and Danny quickly sucked it into the thermos, dropping Jazz’s milkshake in the process. “Dammit. Absolutely not. It’s bad enough with three metas here. No more.”

Across the street, they saw a couple running from three of the invaders. One of the ghosts turned invisible and entered the body of the man who went stiff before sprinting to catch up to his partner and grabbing her to hold her still.

Then one of the other ghosts turned a garbage can over the both of them. The one overshadowing the man left his body, leaving the humans crying and covered in garbage as the ghosts laughed.

“I see,” said Tim. “How do we protect Bart, Cassie, and Conner?”

“You’re metas?” asked Sam.

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, nothing special, but… I don’t want to see what a ghost could do with my powers.”

“Let’s get back to my place. My parents might be crazy, but the ghost shield works. And then we can make a plan.”

Tim nodded. “I’ll lead. Kon, Bart, Cassie, you three need to stay in the middle. Sam, Tucker, you watch our sides and Danny, take up the rear. Capture any ghosts that try to approach us.”

Amity, even during a ghost invasion, was much easier to navigate than Gotham and Tim was able to lead them back to Danny’s house without getting lost. Every scream made him want to stop and help, though. He hated being useless.

Behind him, he could hear muttered curses from his teammates and knew they felt the same. But they needed weapons. Ones that could actually hit a ghost. And they needed to make sure they could fight off any overshadowing.

A TV was thrown out of a house through a window next to them sending shards of glass raining on the ground. Sam let out a string of curses.

“Sam!” called Danny. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. Just a slice to my arm.”

“We’re almost there,” said Tim. “We’ll check it out.”

He was flat out running now, could hear the others just behind them. They turned a corner and he could see the glowing FentonWorks sign. He grit his teeth and continued to run away from the mayhem, fighting every instinct he had. He wouldn’t be able to help if he stayed. He repeated it as a mantra with every step.

And finally they were there, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, ushering his friends in first.

Once inside, Danny flipped a few switches and metal slammed down over the windows, though no guns or lasers came out of the walls.

“Okay. No ghosts can get in now.”

“Danny!” Jazz came running down the stairs. “You’re all okay! Mom and Dad rushed out as soon as the attack started. What’s going on?”

“Jazz! Sorry, I dropped your milkshake on the way here. And not much, just, you know, a ghost invasion.” Danny’s laugh was bordering on hysterical.

“But you’re all safe?”

“Sam?” asked Danny. “How’s your arm?”

“I think it’s all right.” Sam grimaced as she held some tissues to the injury.

Jazz joined and led her to the kitchen. “Come on, let me clean that up for you. What happened?”

“A ghost threw a TV through a window. A piece of glass got me as we ran by.”

Tucker turned on the Fenton’s TV and switched to the news channel.

“I’m Shelly Makamoto and this is Ghost Watch,” an Asian woman said in a cheerful voice. “Ghosts, can you believe it, real ghosts are invading Amity Park right now. Emergency vehicles are struggling to get through the invasion, so if you are injured and in an area of high ghost concentration, help may be delayed. It is recommended you remain put and wait until first responders are able to get to your area. Currently, the ghosts are most focused on the downtown area, so the hospital is spared at this time. We can only hope this doesn’t change. Now, our weatherman Lance Thunder is out right now, so lets switch to him to get an on-the-scene report.”

They all watched in silence as a male reporter cowered behind an overturned car as he gave his report.

Sam and Jazz returned just a moment later. Sam had a large bandaid over her arm but shook her head when Danny shot her a questioning look.

“It’s fine. Clean cut.”

Tim relaxed as well. “Glad to hear it,” he said.

Jazz nodded. “Nothing to be concerned about at all. Thanks for getting the ghost shield up, Danny. I always forget which switch is the weapons and which is the shield.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. She was lying. Why was she lying?

“Yeah, no problem. We’re gonna go to the lab. Tim and his friends have self defense training, Gotham, you know? So I want to see if we have any weapons in the vault that they’d be comfortable with.”

“Great. I’m gonna be in my room. As class president, I want to try and make sure everyone is safe so I’ll be on the phone with my door shut. Knock before you enter!” Then she was running back up the stairs and slamming the door to her room.

Tim exchanged a glance with Cassie. That was weird.

But next to him, Danny let out a breath. “Okay, so she’s out of the way. Sam, you sure you’re okay?

Sam grimaced. “It stings a bit, but it’s fine. Jazz put disinfectant and antibiotic cream on it.”

“Great. Well, not great.” Danny grimaced and Sam punched him on the arm.

Tim cleared his throat. “You said something about weapons?”

Conner nodded. “Yeah, did you say you have a weapons vault?”

Danny laughed. “You saw the home defense system. Are you really surprised?”

Cassie shook her head. “Your parents are evil scientists, aren’t they?”

Danny led them down a set of stairs. “I wouldn’t call them evil. They’re just… a bit single minded.”

And then Tim was standing in their lab for the first time. It was all silver chrome and neon green accents. But worse, it was messy. Half assembled inventions were scattered haphazardly over every surface. And was that a half eaten sandwich on the bench? Ectoplasm dripped off one of the counters onto a puddle on the floor.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny walked in without concern, but Tim and his team held back.

Danny realized they weren’t following and looked back in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“No offense,” said Bart as his eyes darted around, “But, uh, is it safe?”

“What do you mean?” asked Danny, but then he looked around and noticed the mess. “Ah. Hang on a sec. I’ll get you rubber gloves and boots you can slide on over your shoes. That’ll keep you safe enough.”

Sam helped and soon enough they were passing the protective gear over. Meanwhile, Tucker sat down at a computer and pulled up the news report so they could keep tabs on what was going on.

“Can we get eye protection as well?” asked Tim once he had everything on.

“Sure. Mom and Dad have plenty of goggles.” Danny grabbed a few of those as well.

Still not entirely comfortable, Tim finally stepped into the lab. On the far wall, behind yellow and black doors was the portal he’d heard so much about.

Danny followed his gaze and put a hand on his arm. “Come on, Tim. The weapons vault is over here.”

-----

This should be enough to figure out which episode I'm using as the base for this arc! It's not quite the Ghost Fight people were hoping for in the comments of the last update, but I think this is gonna be better.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit

#dpxdc #dead tired #my writing #conner: whats that you got there?#danny: a weapons vault why?#he has no clue its weird so doesnt think to hide it #its just his basement #one weapon for you and one for you and two for you #rip jazz's milkshake #damn ghosts #i am very tired #and my tags reflect that

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

Text

Hate-Fucking with Mansk

THANK YOU FOR 1K Followers you guys deserve the world!

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

I will be making one with Lyle thanks to the great plot idea from @onlyreadz

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk has been attracted to you since you were human. As a newly recruited recombinant, he was ready to focus on the mission but your presence distracts him. A hatred for you builds up in him along with frustration and one evening, it all comes out and he can't help himself but deal with you.

WARNINGS: SMUT, man-handling, degrading, mean Mansk, filthy language, violence, fighting, angst, non-con (a little), hurt/comfort,

Side rant: this shit took me ages, enjoy (made with love)

Word Count: 9760

Today was the day the recombinant plan was being put into action. This was a major breakthrough for the RDA and their best hope of finding Jake Sully.

Since the recom’s had the memories of soldiers and were now much bigger than humans, they needed to be woken up in groups so that the medical staff could tend to them all. All of them were therefore woken separately to ensure everyone's safety and prevent chaos.

Mansk was in the first group along with Lopez, Warren, and Walker. Everything went well there and once they had been medically checked they were allowed to leave and dress themselves in their uniforms.

They were told to wait in the cafeteria until everyone was awake. Mansk had a hard time adapting to his new body but he kept it to himself. His friend managed to distract him from it too.

The second group was slightly more chaotic. But what did they expect when they had Lyle and Miles in the same room? Quaritch apparently delivered a solid punch to Lyle’s face which was well deserved because that is not the first thing one wants to wake up to. Especially not after one’s memories have the Na’vi categorised under the clear enemy. Nothing huge happened and soon they joined the others in the cafeteria.

The group you were in was the last group but you were woken at the same time as the second one, just in a different room.

Let’s just say that chaos was very much present there too. You woke up along with Ja, Prager, and Brown and Ja did the same thing Lyle did to Brown. Brown was known for being fast to act on his instincts so Ja wasn’t just punched, he was put in a chokehold.

While this whole commotion was happening your eyes were opening and the noise startled you, making you sit up. There was a human next to you trying to keep you laying down but it didn’t really work. You scanned the room, watching 2 Na’vi males roll around on the floor while a third tried pulling them apart and obviously, you freaked out. Before they knew you were awake you screamed, jumping off the side of the bed. The fighting stopped for a second as they looked at you. Prager hurried over to you, trying to calm you down and introduce himself but you weren’t having it.

The pause in the fight was used to Brown’s advantage as he pulled Ja to his feet and they slammed up against a screen attached to the ceiling. It broke off, swinging to you and the edge of it hit your jaw.

Prager stepped closer than you wanted and the heart-beat detecting monitor next to you was launched at him. Prager ducked the heavy equipment and it flew right past Brown’s head who had let go of Ja in shock. Ja had rolled him over now, yelling at his previous friend while Prager was shouting at you to stop damaging the equipment.

He called your name which confused you and soon you remembered that you were supposed to wake up like this.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh fuck- Prager I’m sorry.” I said, clasping my face in my hands and gathering myself.

He tried comforting me while pulling Ja off of Brown and eventually, everyone had calmed down.

The medics tried patching up my bruised jaw and bleeding nose but it hurt more so I left to get dressed. We were given new uniforms and then given permission to leave and meet the others.

When we arrived, Quaritch was already giving everyone a pep-talk. Ja flung the door open stepping inside. Brown put his hand on his shoulder in an apologetic manner for the punches but Ja pushed his hand away, still mad.

The room went silent as we walked in. Brown followed Ja inside and both of them had bruises and small cuts. I walked in after Brown, holding a bloody tissue to my nose and Prager was behind me to watch out for us.

No one else was injured. Just Lyle had suffered a punch. Fike apparently too. Seeing us all walk in was like watching soldiers return from war and Quaritch sighed. Maybe this team would kill itself before he could order us to step outside.

Lyle broke the silence by laughing, getting up and examining Brown before laughing more. I wasn’t in the mood for his jokes so I sat down next on the bench, ears tipped back. I noticed through the tattoos and some facial features that I was sitting next to Z-Dog who was already grinning at me. I scoffed at her amused reaction and she pressed me against her before biting her lip.

“What the fuck happened?” she asked, making me show her my bleeding nose while she and Walker suppressed laughter.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I say, shrugging it off. It was embarrassing.

“Lyle got punched by the Colonel.” she whispered and I looked at her wide-eyed before wheezing.

“No way.” I say, looking at Lyle who had now sat down too. She nodded and I gave in.

“Brown had Ja face-down on the ground.” I whisper back, smiling. “And I thought Prager was going to kill me.”

She held a fist in front of her mouth as we both grinned. “They threw a TV at me.” I add to her amusement and she laughs.

“Assholes.” I whisper jokingly. Everyone settles down and Quaritch begins explaining our mission.

Third Person POV:

Your group walked into the room and everyone had examined you all, noting the injuries and the tension. Mansk recognised his former colleagues, smiling to himself when he saw how they messed each other up. Then his eyes moved on to you and his smile was swiped clean off.

He stared and his heart stopped beating for a moment. Of course, Mansk remembered you. You were his main and secret problem as a human. He didn’t know you had signed up for the Phoenix project.

His eyes stayed fixated on you as you sat down and he scanned all your features. As you talked to Z-Dog, Lopez nudged him in the side with a chuckle.

“Not even a minute in and you’re back on ‘er.” he whispered and Mansk’s eyes shot to him while he flattened his ears back.

“Shut up.” Mansk shrugged him off, looking down at his feet. Lopez knew that he used to like you before.

Mansk had a thing for you when you were humans but he never told you and you never knew. He didn’t plan on telling you now either. The plan was to do what he did before: suppress his feelings and ignore you as best he could. He wasn’t able to ignore you before but now this was going to be a new version of Mansk. A better one, he told himself. This time, he would avoid you.

Mansk needed to set his priorities straight. He was on a mission here which involved some personal conflict for he knew Jake too and wanted revenge. He hated the Na’vi and was ready to give this mission his all. No distractions. That wouldn’t happen this time. He also hated that his attraction to you stayed even in your Avatar form.

Y/N’s POV:

We had landed on Pandora now.

The next day we were getting our gear ready for the mission and I was given a gun I’d never seen before. I wasn’t familiar with this type of weapon because this wasn’t the one we would ever use. They probably created new guns while we were gone. I held it, examining the firearm and trying to figure out how to load it and with what.

Everyone else was busy with their stuff, except for Mansk who was leaning against a table next to his finished and clean guns. I remembered him. I think we might have even been quite good friends. One of the things I remember about him was that he knew his weapons. He could definitely help me with mine.

I grab my stuff and walk over to him. He’s wearing his shades and only looks at me once I’m right next to him.

“Hey,” I smile. “Can you help me with this? I don’t know how to load it.” I say, laying out my weapon which seemed to have three parts. I expected this to be a good ice-breaker and from then on we could have a nice conversation and catch up on things. But no.

He just tilted his head to the side to look at my gun, then at me and then he looked away.

“You should know how.” he replied, his voice low and cold. Mansk then reached for his things and left, exiting the room without another word.

I stood there watching him leave, surprised by his answer. We used to always talk. What was that about?

Either way, I found his reaction unnecessary. We’re meant to help each other and he was being an asshole. Mansk better have a good explanation for that otherwise I’ll be pissed. Maybe something happened, so I’ll let it slide once.

Something similar happened that evening. We were once again in the cafeteria specifically made for the recombinants and I had just gotten my food.

Zdinarsk was the closest person in here to me so I was obviously going to sit with her. We had large tables for multiple people to sit on at once and I spotted her next to Lyle. As I’m walking to her I notice Mansk is opposite Lyle and the only space free is opposite Z-Dog which is next to him.

Maybe he will apologise now and tell me what got him in such a bad mood.

Without thinking much of it, I put my tray down on the table and Zdinarsk smiles at me before continuing to listen to the conversation between Lyle and Prager who was on the other side of Mansk.

I sit down and notice Mansk glance at me from the corner of my eye. He freezes, looking away and tightly clenches his fist around the knife he’s holding. I’m unwrapping my food and suddenly, he stands up in silence and swipes his tray from the table, leaving us all startled.

Mansk walked away and I felt him glare at me as he turned away and walked to another table.

Zdinarsk and I exchange glances.

“What’s up with him?” Lyle asks chuckling and taking a bite out of his bread. They watched him walk off and I huffed, wiping my hand over my face.

“No idea. He’s being a real dick.” I mumble, arranging the food on my plate.

“Really? He was just joking around with us a minute ago.” Zdinarsk said and I looked up at her. Maybe he wasn’t just in a bad mood. Perhaps my gut feeling was right. Mansk might really dislike me for whatever reason.

“I think he hates me.” I say, looking down and starting my meal.

“What you do?” she asks, her eyes flicking between Mansk and me. He’s sat at the table behind me, his back facing mine. Lyle and Prager are quietly listening. Lyle loved listening to all the drama and the news. It was his guilty pleasure. In a way, he was a gossip girl.

As humans, I could be ranting about my ex to Z-Dog and he would be standing with us, eating his protein bars and just listening with wide eyes.

“Nothing. Literally nothing.” I say and she stays silent in thought for a while before we all shrug it off and start talking about something else.

Today we had started the mission and we were sent out into the forest of Pandora. Roughly in the area, the last battle took place. It was all very familiar and even though there was beautiful scenery all around us, it haunted me. I died on these grounds a few years back…

We were walking in line, following Quaritch and Lyle who were leading the way.

“Alright team, we’re runnin’ out of time so we need to split up te’ cover more ground.” Quaritch said, turning around and resting one hand on his vest while the other held his gun. Lyle nodded, looking at us before Quaritch quickly counted down the line, pointing two of his fingers at his soldiers to divide us up into pairs. At least he wasn’t calling out our names, then it would feel like we’re back in school.

Mansk stood frozen as I watched Quaritch quickly point the two of us together. He looked around and everyone was already walking off in pairs while the Colonel turned around, leaving with Lyle.

Great…

I had my own mission for the next hour: to make this the worst most unpleasant hour Mansk has experienced. He was getting some payback for how he treated me before. I don’t let things like that just slide.

He was tense and his ears pinned back flat against his head as he huffed, looking at me. I gave him an innocent smile which I knew would piss him off. It did and he turned away, walking in the direction we were supposed to go in.

If he doesn’t start a fight I won’t bother him. But I’m sure he’ll have something to say before our time ends.

I followed him in silence, looking around and holding my weapon steady.

After about 15 minutes of hearing nothing but the sounds of the forest, the first comment came from him.

“Walk faster.” he said, not even bothering to turn around. I stop and my ears perk forwards as I process his words. Who does he think he is?

“I’m right behind you.” I snap back, rolling my eyes. “Dipshit.” I mumble.

His ears react to the insult and he turns around. “What?”

“Dipshit.” I repeat in a mocking way, making his brows furrow in irritation behind his stupid shades. I walk past him, refusing to waste another second of my time dealing with him.

“Quit it, you’ll ruin the mission.” he says, starting to walk behind me now with his ears strained again.

“Oh really?” I say, waving my arms. “How?”

I turn to face him and as I do I slightly stumble over a root in the path. Mansk raises an eyebrow at me.

“Actin’ like that.” he replies, motioning to my leg. Now my ears are flattened back and my tail flicks in annoyance as I glare at him.

“Like your behaviour is so much better. Take your stupid shades off and then we’ll see who’s talking.” I call out, turning around again and walking away.

That got under his skin. “Take it back.” he growls, following me again.

“Like, apologise? No way. If any one of us needs to apologise it’s you.” I sneer in response.

I hear him scoff in annoyance too. My attitude was frustrating him but I didn’t care because he was such a pain in my ass.

“Yeah? For what?” he asks, watching me walk in front of him.

“For being such an ass to me for no reason. The fuck did I do?” I ask, stopping and turning to face him. I really wanted to know.

He scowled at me before just ignoring what I said and walking further. I let out a frustrated groan.

“Fucking answer.” I call after him, fighting the urge to call him a ‘hormonal bitch’. Damn was he lucky I was restraining myself.

“Shut up and walk.” he mutters with an ice-cold tone.

“You’re being such a moron. We used to be friends.” I say, looking down while continuing to walk straight ahead. My body bumps into his and then I realise that he stopped in his tracks, facing me.

He was towering over me, a stern expression dressing his face.

“We weren’t friends. You were a pain in my ass. Always clueless. Never knowin’ what to do and never doin’ it right.” he snarled at me and his harsh words startled me, making me take a step back. I didn’t expect that.

“How you got chosen for this mission is a fuckin’ mystery te’ me, airhead.” He added, walking up on me and staring me down before walking off again.

I wanted to shout an insult back at him but deep down his words hurt me. I stood still for a few moments, repeating what he just said to me and it made my heart ache. My memories told me we used to be great friends. Why were his so different?

Mansk almost disappears behind the trees so I start walking again,re-adjusting some of the gear I had on. After about five minutes I catch up to him again but we walk in silence. When we turn a corner I notice Mansk stopped walking again.

“For fuck’s sake what is it now?” I complain, wanting to push past him until I hear a loud snort and huff. I freeze myself as Mansk and I slowly look up, meeting eyes with a huge animal.

I immediately recognise it. It’s an elephant-sized cow creature. The one that crushed Lyle. It’s almost roaring at us and Mansk stretches his arm out in front of me, pushing me back.

The purple feather-like parts on its head move around and I realise it is displaying a territorial warning. The one Jake, Grace and Norm dealt with in the forest. Grace taught me all about it.

Mansk curses under his breath before grabbing my vest and tugging me back.

“Run.” he shouts but I push him off of me.

He doesn’t understand and gets frustrated with me, wondering why I wasn’t going with him. I turn back to the creature and throw my gun down on the ground next to me. It wouldn’t help in any scenario here. Mansk didn’t know that and I heard bullets soar through the air. They pushed off of the animal's thick skin, not harming it. The action just made it angrier.

“Don’t you dare shoot at it.” I snarl at him while the animal backs up. “You’ll make it worse.”

He’s watching me with wide eyes, standing a few feet behind me.

“Put the gun down, Mansk!” I shout, watching as he hesitates. My attention returns to the animal and it has finished backing up now. I steady myself on the ground, placing one foot in front of the other and watching it. It takes off, running towards us at full speed and I take a step forward, snarling at it and baring my fangs.

Mansk’s heart drops in fear as it nears us.

It comes to a halt barely in front of me, quickly backing up and huffing. I watch it for a while, not moving from my position. It watches me, waiting for me to retreat but I don’t, so it turns and leaves. The tall grass rustles as the animal turns away and I straighten my posture, watching it until it’s fully gone.

I turn to look at Mansk who looks completely shocked. His expression makes me scoff.

“Clueless airhead, huh?” I say, giving him a shit-eating grin before picking up my gun and resuming our walk. “Look at you hiding behind me like a bitch.”

His perked ears tip back again as I resume the argument.

He watches me with wide eyes before quickly following. I knew he was confused but he wouldn’t ask so I might as well enlighten him with the things I do know.

“That was a Hammerhead Titanothere. They’re not usually aggressive. It was just a territorial warning display.” I say and I know very well he is listening.

“Shooting it is useless. They have bulletproof skin. You just need to stand your ground when it does that.” I continue to explain, not looking behind me.

Now I turn around, just to mock him. “You see, I’m not good at loading these stupid guns and yet my chances of survival here are still bigger than yours.” I smile at him and he shoots me a glare.

It amazed Mansk how well you handled that situation. Of course, he wouldn’t ever say that. But you had climbed a rank in his eyes. That didn’t change how much he despised you though. He despised your attitude even though it was his fault you were giving it to him. Mansk hated how easily you would get him distracted and how you never seemed to understand his grudge against you.

We returned to the meeting area and no one found anything. The mission was called off for the day and we returned to Bridgehead. I didn’t speak to Mansk on the way back at all. Why should I? He wasn’t just rude anymore he was unnecessarily mean to me.

Later that evening, I was back in the gym. The gym was its own separate building with very bright lights. Everyone had left because everyone gets up early. I couldn’t sleep though because I felt so frustrated and angered, I needed to let it out somewhere. The unlucky boxing bag was getting it all. I was able to properly let my emotions out because no one else was in here with me. The recom’s had their own gym because we needed bigger equipment. And everyone had gone to bed.

I wanted to scream my lungs out as I delivered punch after punch to the bag but I knew someone would hear me, thinking it was an emergency.

I continued beating the shit out of the boxing sack when I heard the main door click open. My arms reached for the bag to still it and I held onto it to stay on my feet while turning around to see who had entered the gym. I had hair sticking to my face and my chest was heaving while beads of sweat decorated my blue skin.

My eyes met the eyes of Mansk who was standing in front of the door with his hands in his joggers. My ears immediately pin back which secretly amuses him.

I watch him for a few seconds, wondering what he’s doing here but he doesn’t move or do anything. He isn’t even wearing his usual training clothes.

“The fuck you want?” I ask, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand which was in a boxing glove.

Mansk scoffed and looked at the ground for a second in thought before scanning the empty gym. He was wearing his damned shades again. They made him look meaner.

“Nothin’.” he said, facing forwards again. I didn’t like whatever he was up to. My eyes linger on him for a little while longer in an attempt to read his mind before I turn away, taking my gloves off.

“Done already?” he asked from somewhere behind me, walking closer. I roll my eyes and sigh, trying to pull myself together so that I won’t snap at him.

“I’ve been here for over 2 hours. Yes, I’m done.” I snarl, refusing to look at him.

“Don’t let me intimidate you.” he said with a breathy laugh and I knew he was smirking to himself right now. Mansk was surprisingly talkative with me. Definitely not in a pleasant way but he was a very distanced and quiet person in general. Maybe he just needed me to know how much he disliked me.

I scoff. “Yeah, right. Like you could ever.”

Mansk exhales a huff through his nose as tension builds in the air.

“Maybe if you weren’t so rude I could take you more seriously.” I say, throwing the gloves to the ground and heading to the showers.

“I’m rude?” he asks, now standing on the large rubber mat I was training on. It was a big square designed for boxing and sparring.

“Nooo.” I reply, sarcastically. Mansk hated sarcasm.

“Fuck- why do you have to be like this.” He mumbled, brushing his nose with his finger. I stop walking and turn around.

“What did you say?” I ask, awaiting an answer as I stand with my weight shifted on one leg and my arms crossed in front of my chest.

Mansk didn’t answer which made me huff in annoyance. Why did he even come here?

I walked over to him, getting back in the ring and leaning on the side ropes so I could look at him properly. His ears perked forwards, paying me attention while his eyes followed my movements.

“If you came here just to get on my nerves you can leave.” I say, not allowing myself to look away. My tail swished behind me, showing my pent-up frustration with him. His one did the same and his ears pinned back.

“Or you can tell me why the fuck you’re like this.” I add, giving him the options I can think of until another idea enters my mind.

“Or…” I say, not necessarily meaning this seriously. “ you can fight me.” I press my body further into the elastic railing fencing in the boxing ring while a mischievous grin paints my face. He was probably going to walk away.

Mansk seemed surprised by my words, not moving for almost a minute as he thought. I was about to turn away and walk to the showers again when I heard his voice.

“Fine.” Was all he said as he walked towards me. I backed up and he entered the ring with me.

“Don’t respond with just ‘fine’. I’m gracing you with the option to finally be close to me, so you can stop being an ass.” I joke, turning away from him and I hear him fucking growl.

I freeze, turning around to him again. He looks really pissed.

“Oh no, I’m so intimidated now.” I mock him, ridiculing his stern expression.

“Shut the fuck up.” he snarls, making my ears perk forward at his aggressive reaction.

I snort. “What do you want me to say? ‘Make me’?”

He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders back. “Sure.”

“In your dreams, jerk.” I snap at him, taking the opposite corner.

This was a great opportunity in my eyes. He agreed to it and I would finally be able to punch the shit out of him. ‘Legally’.

He was staring me down, waiting for any sudden movement I would make which would trigger him to pounce.

“You gonna count down?” he asks eagerly, fighting himself to stay still.

“When you grow a pair.” I spit my words and that’s all he can take.

Mansk lunges forwards, running to me with quick steps. I dodge his first punch by moving to the side and then grab his left arm, twisting it. He groans and then one of his hands is gripping my wrist. I let go of him and his now free hand wraps around the back of my neck. He swiftly turns me around so that I’m no longer facing him and within the next second, my knee is kicked in and I fall down a level. He holds me up by my neck while both my knees hit the ground but before he can think of what to do next, my legs lock around his ankles and I manage to trip him. He falls back while I turn and straddle him, trying to keep him held down.

“Asshole, you’re breaking all the rules.” I hiss at him, leaning down to his face to emphasize my words and he angrily pushes me off of him. I land on my back and when he’s about to jump on me I roll to the side.

“There’s no fuckin’ rules when I’m fightin’ a bitch.” Mansk gnarled, pushing his upper body off the floor and not taking his eyes off his prey. I sit back on my knees and as he attempts to tackle me down I deliver a punch to the side of his face which brings him out of balance.

“I’m sorry, which one of us was fucking-” I gasp for air “cowering behind the other in the forest today?” I say, recalling him standing behind me when we were almost attacked by the large animal.

He stays still for a few seconds, holding his jaw and breathing heavily. I didn’t manage to hit him properly because he slightly moved out of the way, meaning it couldn’t hurt too much. However, it was still a punch and it felt good.

He growled again, turning to me and as he lunged forward, his hand caught my ankle. Immediately he pulled me to him. My free leg kicked his shoulder back but his posture was stable and he pinned them to the ground. His hand then grasped my queue, forcing me to turn around while I leaned on my forearms, refusing to lay down flat on the ground. I was facing the ground while struggling to hold myself up. Mansk was towering above me, one hand still firmly holding my queue while the other pulled my left arm out from beneath me, pinning it down against the ground.

“You mean the one time you wore almost nothin’?” he snarled, moving up my body and pressing his knee down on my leg to eliminate the possibility of me getting up. I sensed sarcasm when he brought up the ‘one time’, which was rare for Mansk to use.

His words confused me and I stopped struggling for a second to think about them.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I say, clearly distressed and resuming my fight of attempting to push him off.

“Fuckin’ look at you. You wear nothin’ but this excuse of a bra and these tight shorts.” Mansk growled. Tight shorts? Someone’s been paying attention.

I did always wear the same type of clothes. Similar to Walker actually except that her pants were longer than mine. I didn’t think much of it because Na’vi wear loincloths and chest pieces that barely cover anything. So why should we?

Our bodies were different now, adapted to the climate of Pandora, not the air-conditioned base we stayed in. We were used to the warmth.

I push myself up and off the ground with my right arm.

“It’s weather appropriate.” I snap back, glancing over my shoulder as I pin my ears flat against my head.

Mansk tightens his grip on my queue, tugging me up before almost slamming me down into the ground so that I was now pressed flat against it.

“Well it’s not workplace appropriate.” he opposes, pushing his words through clenched teeth.

I whine in pain while Mansk lets go of my wrist, placing his hand down on my shoulder. He was leaning on his arms which ensured that I would stay on the ground.

“Oh I’m sorry does it bother you?” I murmur, trying to at least roll over.

“Fuckin’ right it does.” he says and his hand is digging into the skin of my shoulder. I whimper in pain, arching my back to try and have him loosen his grip but he doesn’t.

Luckily, my leg finds his tail, roughly slamming it down and trapping it between my foot and the ground.

Mansk hisses through his clenched jaw, the pain making him retreated his abusing hands. I push myself forwards, lifting the leg that caused him the pain and kicking him in the side so that he would not be restraining my right leg anymore. I succeed, finally free from his grip again.

“Why don’t you go and cry about it to Lyle.” I say, regaining my breath while resting on my hands and knees. Lyle was our team leader and often dealt with our complaints in the past.

He looks up at me and I can tell he is raging. I’ve never seen Mansk this worked up before. No one has.

His tail aggressively flicks behind him as he shakes his hand. “Lyle happens to like it.” he answers, spitting the words like venom. I raise an eyebrow in amusement.

His words surprise me and I grin. “Maybe I should go to his room then.” I say, not thinking much of it. In my mind, I thought insults would get Mansk angrier but somehow the last sentence I spoke did.

“...and tell him about what you’re do-”

I don’t get to finish my sentence because Mansk is back on me. I try to back up but he’s too fast. I’m leaning back on my forearms once again, facing him. My leg attempts to kick him in the face and push him away but he dodges it and it slides over his shoulder. His left hand tightens around my calf, holding it in place on his shoulder.

My eyes widen when I realise my mistake. I was stuck now.

He noticed my wide eyes and even through his anger, this little victory made him grin at me devilishly.

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” he growled, flashing me his sharp fangs as his grin widened. I glared at him and then Mansk leaned further forward, making my leg bend rather uncomfortably. His free arms reached forward and he held down my other leg by digging his fingertips into the flesh of my thigh and holding it down.

I hiss through clenched teeth at the pain from his tight grip.

“Thought you were goin’ to put up a bigger fight than this.” he mocked me and I pushed the leg he was holding on his shoulder against him but to Mansk it just felt like a nudge.

“Shut up, I was working out for over 2 hours you dick-” I start complaining, not giving up my struggle. He hushes me, placing his hand over my mouth to shut me up. I freeze, staring at him wide-eyed. What the fuck was he doing?

“See? I like you better when you’re not runnin’ your mouth like-” he starts to say, thinking I calmed down. I didn’t need to hear the stupid things he had to say and without hesitation I bit into his hand, letting my fangs scrape his skin and causing a scratch.

Immediately his hand retreats and he holds it against his side, examining the scratch with perked ears. Then Mansk looks back at me and he’s angry again.

“Try that again and you’ll lose a finger.” I snarl and his ears tip back. Somehow, I loved our new ears. They made it so easy to read one another.

“You won, congratu-fucking-lations, let me go.”

“Nah, don’t think so.” he growled and that devilish smirk was back on his face. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

I snort. “Me? The reason I’m a bitch to you is because you decided to be an ass since day one. And that for no reason at all.”

“No reason?” he scoffs, digging his fingers deeper into my flesh to contain himself.

“Yeah. I didn’t do shit and you’re acting like such a moron that-”

“You fuckin’ distract me Y/N. Can’t do anythin’ when you’re around.” he snarls, making it sound like he’s spitting venom again. “I fuckin’ hate you, your big mouth and you’re poor excuse of fuckin’ clothes.”

My mouth drops open and I try to suppress laughter, but I won’t be able to hold it for long.

Mansk despised so many things about you but not necessarily you. He hated how attracted he was to you and he blamed you for it. For, in his eyes, showing off your body. He was angered by his internal battle of trying to understand why he even felt attracted to an Avatar of a Na’vi. Mansk resents that he can’t get you out of his head and that once he sees you he can’t take his eyes off you.

He was ready to fully devote himself to this mission and get it done once and for all but you are such a big distraction to him. You’re Mansk’s weakness and he used to swear to himself never to have one which makes his hatred for you worse.

I’m biting my lip and looking at Mansk whose chest is heaving. I can see how he’s restraining himself from probably killing me but right now it just seems funny to me.

“Goddamn, you could have bought me a drink first.” I laugh at him, releasing my lip which has my teeth marks imprinted in it.

Soldiers like Mansk amused me and almost seemed stupid to a certain extent. Such a big intimidating man in the military losing a battle to his feelings because he never shares anything with anyone and of course one day it’s all got to come out. And when it does, it’s nasty like this.

People like Quaritch would completely neglect mental health, focusing just on physical appearance and a strong survival mentality. Mansk was similar. The idea of talking to someone about his feelings made him think he was growing weak and that was the thing he dreaded the most.

“If you’re so desperate for me you could have told me and-”

Mansk can’t stand that. His right-hand releases my thigh and quickly wraps itself around my throat making me stop talking.

“You keep talkin’ like that and I won’t be able to hold back.” he warns me. I examine the veins bulging out on his forearm, pumping blood through his body. His neck was strained and I could see his artery. He was really tensed up.

“What makes you think I’d listen to you, jackass?” I snap back, refusing to let him intimidate me.

Mansk can’t help himself anymore. You’re right there, laying beneath him.

He leans down, holding my head in place as I watch in confusion. His lips crash down against mine and after I realise what’s happening, my body seems to respond to him and I kiss him back. It’s not a nice kiss in any way. It’s harsh and our teeth clash at one point. I push his chest away from me, breaking the heated kiss and gasp for air. He seemed even more restless now.

Maybe deep down I was attracted to this menace of a man.

“I’ll make ya listen.” he replies, once again flashing his fangs through a smug look.

“I’d rather die.” I say, pulling my left leg which he let go back to my body. As I retreated it from beneath him and to me, my calf caressed his groin and Mansk tensed up. It took me a while to figure out what just happened and an extra few seconds to come to the conclusion that he was hard to the point that his erection strained his pants.

My mouth drops open and I gulp before my gaze shoots up to him. He’s already looking at me and his ears have drooped but he didn’t let his harsh grip falter. This is definitely not what I expected.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I wheeze but he presses my throat tighter.

The pressure he’s causing makes me uncomfortable and I slap him across the face, almost making his shades fly. Shock engulfs him for a good few seconds and I’m crawling away.

I turn away from him, steadying myself on all fours as I prepare to stand but he’s quicker. In an instant, his hands are back on me and I’m unable to move forwards anymore. Mansk's palms close around my waist as he tugs me back to him.

My ass comes in contact with his lower abdomen as he pulls me towards him and I gasp when I feel him press against me.

“If you don’t move away in the next three seconds I will kill-”

Before I can finish my sentence a stinging slap is delivered to the spot under my ass and above my thigh.

I whimper, clenching my fists together.

“You’re gonna keep you’re dirty lil’ mouth closed and take what I give you. Understood?” he said and I heard him unbuckle his belt. My pupils blew wider as his strong musk flooded my senses.

“I’ll rip your tongue out you-”

Another slap which hurt more than the previous one made me shut up. I clenched my eyes closed, suddenly feeling weak. My body seemed to be responding to his presence against my will, making me almost surrender.

My arms and legs trembled and my tail was no longer hastily flicking around. It stilled and I pulled it under me and between my legs.

His palm was once again holding my queue, grasping it so tightly it made me feel lightheaded.

“Mansk, you asshole-” I murmur while one of my arms gives out beneath me. “You’re so dead.”

My threats fly by him, not bothering the soldier at all. His long-denied emotions have collapsed in on him and that internal war of frustration triggered his new primal senses to come to light. Mine were becoming visible too and it seemed that there was no way to stop this.

My eyes seem to be burdened by a blurriness until Mansk’s touch brings me out of my haze. His free hand is feeling along the waistline of my sports shorts and with a few harsh tugs, he pulls them down my waist and legs along with my panties. My tail is pulled out of the cloth and I bare my fangs, hissing at him as the gym air comes in contact with my refused heat.

Mansk groans, letting go of my queue and grabbing at the flesh of my hips and ass. I raise my tail, making it flick him in the face because I wasn’t giving up just yet. He growls, holding it down against me as he examines my heat-struck body.

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, exhaling shakily as he holds my thigh and makes me spread my legs wider.

He hated you without a doubt, but fuck you looked so good to him. Everything about your body made him harder and suddenly you seemed so inviting to him, he couldn’t resist.

My ears were pinned back as I was fighting my desire for him and I tried thinking of a way to fight him but my mind was blank at this point.

I felt him let go of my hip and his right hand was placed on my shoulder, holding me steady.

Without any warning whatsoever, Mansk brought his hand up to my shamefully dripping pussy, gliding two of his fingers between my folds. I whimper, hiding my face in my other shoulder while grimacing. I didn’t understand my body.

He rubbed me and naturally, my legs spread wider and my hips followed his movements.

Mansk wanted to say something but he didn’t know what. Your quarrelling feud was still very much ongoing, this was just an exceptional hiccup in the entire fight. One that couldn’t be prevented by either of you.

Suddenly, Mansk pushed both his fingers into me and I jolted forwards at the unexpected intrusion. He kept me still by pulling me back with the hand on my right shoulder and now he leaned over my bent body, starting to finger me. Neither of us were thinking anymore.

I whimpered, stretching my arms out in front of me so that I wouldn’t fall forwards. He wasn’t being gentle either. My body was rocking forwards every time his fingers bottomed out and his pace was rough.

I hiss, baring my fangs again when I start feeling a form of pleasure.

Mansk can’t resist you anymore. He has to take you whether you’re ready or not. If you continue to fight him, he’ll just be rougher.

He pressed himself against my bare skin again, before pulling back and lining himself up with my entrance. I couldn’t even follow what he was doing, my mind was so clouded with lust.

With one hard thrust, Mansk forced himself as deep into me as possible. I cried out in surprise and my body tensed at the foreign feeling.

He groans, finally feeling pleasure wash over him. The long-needed feeling of euphoria was at last flooding his own senses and he needed his release more than anything. My walls were hugging him tightly because my Avatar had never done this before but it made him almost speechless.

“You look like a bitch in heat.” he snarled and I tipped my ears back.

“You-”

He pulled back, drawing his rock-hard dick out before snapping his hips forward once again and starting to fuck me at a brutal pace, making me unable to answer.

I cried out again, not sure if it was in pain or pleasure this time. He wrapped my queue around his hand, making my head tilt back and my back arch against him.

Mansk was losing himself inside you and he bent over you, pressing his chest against your back to ease his longing to be close to you.

His arm was resting next to me as he held me in place, not letting his thrusts falter.

His skin was slapping against mine, no doubt leaving mine reddened and flushed. He dug his fingers into my shoulder to contain and ground himself in reality and I snarled at him, baring through the pain.

Something about the fact that you hated him but still let him do this really turned Mansk on. He wouldn’t be able to explain it but he definitely preferred this with you over soft sex. You didn’t deserve to be treated nicely, not when you dressed like that and talked to him in that way.

I wanted to throw an insult at him but I couldn’t talk and neither could he. Grunts and pants filled the room as we still fought each other in a way. I leaned away from him, making the angle more difficult and in return, he held me so tightly his fingernails were close to cutting my skin.

He would harshly tug me back and closer to him every time I somehow got loose until at one point, he leaned all his weight on me, no longer holding himself up with an arm. Both his arms wrapped around and beneath my body. One of them came up to my throat from between my arms while the other locked my body in place by tightly hugging my waist.

Mansk’s head was buried in the crook of my neck as his panting fanned against my cheek. His eyes were closed while I was a whimpering mess, occasionally biting back the pathetic noises to hiss or snarl at him which I knew pissed him off more. Every time I did, he would fuck into me from behind even more relentlessly than before.

I could tell he was close because his thrusts were no longer as sharp. He became more sloppy, mindlessly chasing his high as he pounded into my abused pussy.

Mansk groaned, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes clenched closed.

“Fuck- take it you dirty slut.” he growled.

The hand around my throat tightened, making sure to keep me in place as he thrust into me the last few times. His body tensed and he forced himself as deep into me as possible. Mansk’s teeth bit down on the skin of my left shoulder and his fangs slightly tore the skin while his body shook. I felt him release and shoot his hot cum deep inside me as he held me closer and tighter than ever before, to ensure he’d stuff me full with as much of his load as possible.

I moaned when I felt him fill me. It was something I had never felt before but fuck was it good.

After about a minute, his tight grip loosened and he let his arms fall to the side. I finally inhaled properly while he steadied his own heavy breathing.

Everything was so intense, neither of us could move for the next few minutes. He just stayed pressed on top of me, luckily supporting his weight this time while I let my head fall forwards.

Even though I didn’t cum I was tired. Too tired to push him off or even walk to the showers.

After a few minutes, Mansk had calmed down and slowly he lifted himself off of me. I felt him surprisingly gently pull out and I whimpered at the movement inside me. Everything felt bruised.

My arms were trembling beneath me and I let myself fall to the side, finally relaxing. However, the heat between my legs remained. Even after all that cruel handling, my body felt needy.

Mansk stayed kneeling behind me, looking down at me in pity. He felt a little guilty for what he had done.

“Y’ alright?” he asked, placing his hand on my thigh as I lay on my side. My relaxed ears flatten back and he notices it all.

“No, you moron.” I snap back at him. Isn’t it obvious that I’m not at my best?

And just like that, all guilt and pity left Mansk’s body. You were clearly well enough to continue bickering. He also noticed how your tail restlessly thudded against the ground. Your scent was still strong, maybe even stronger than before which reminded Mansk that you didn’t cum.

“Aw, you want more don’t you?” he teased me, rolling me over on my back and moving my hands away from my face. He saw how flushed I was and that answered his question.

“It wasn’t even good, loser.” I snarl, knowing it will get under his skin. But oddly it just made him chuckle.

“Who were you moanin’ for then?” he asked with a smug grin on his face. An idea popped into my head and now I grinned at him.

“Lyle could do it better.” I say and Mansk stills. I look at him trying to figure out whether he was thinking or whether he was genuinely hurt but that was difficult because he still had his damned shades on.

“Mansk-” I say but within an instant, he’s on top of me.

“I’ll make ya cum so hard you won’t be able to think about no one but me.” he hissed, and when I tried opening my mouth to respond he cut me off again and pressed our lips together.

I huffed in annoyance, refusing to kiss him to see how much angrier he can get.

Mansk wrapped his hand around my throat again, squeezing from the sides to cut off my air and blood flow for a few seconds. I gave in, kissing him back with as much lust and passion as I could.

Without breaking the make out, Mansk trailed his hand down my body and spread my legs apart. I didn’t fight it this time. It seemed like a challenge to him.

I lift my head and look between our bodies, my eyes going wide as I realise that Mansk is still hard. He pushes my head down by my neck, leaning over and sucking hickeys into the skin. I bite down on my lip, suppressing my noises which sound like muffled whimpers to him.

He would make sure that even doing that won’t keep you quiet when he’s inside you again.

Mansk pressed himself against my bare heat which was dripping with his cum. He ground his hips against me and I let my head drop back in pleasure and sighed.

I felt his lips form into a grin against the skin of my collarbone. I still had my bra on because he was in too much of a hurry to take it off before. Mansk was completely naked on the other hand.

His teeth tugged at the strap of my sports bra before he leaned back and pulled it over my head. Without hesitation, he leaned back down, roughly groping my breasts and leaving a dark hickey above one.

The grinding stopped when he pressed the tip of his leaking dick against my entrance again. Slowly he applied pressure, straightening himself and picking up my right leg to wrap it around his waist. I let him move me around because for whatever reason, I was convinced he wouldn’t make me cum. Not when I was already so sore.

“Where’d your feral side go?” he teased, smirking down at me. I dramatically exhale to show my irritation.

“I’m not fucking feral.” I hiss and he scoffs.

“We’ll see.”

“I’m sorry do you want me to punch you?” I ask, looking up at him.

“You won’t be able to in a sec.” he says and with that, he pushes himself back inside me. He enters me easier this time because we’re both coated in slick from the last round.

My pupils grow wider at the feeling and I strain my ears back, not wanting him to see the hint of pleasure I just felt.

Mansk still isn’t gentle because he has no reason to ‘make love’ to you. However, it’s not as brutal as before.

He starts to thrust into me more precisely this time and my body tenses when it starts feeling good. Fuck.

His tail found mine, making them wrap around each other while he focused on finding my weak spots. Mansk’s left hand held my thigh up on his waist as he pushed deeper each time until he started bottoming out on each thrust.

My breathing grows heavy and I feel a small pressure build in me but it’s enough for me to resist.

Mansk is eyeing me, watching my expressions and he notices how I’m fighting myself. He has a solution for that.

While thrusting into me again, he lets go of my thigh which stays on him and his thumb circles my clit.

I inhale sharply, pressing my lips together making him smirk. He slowly sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, letting his thumb brush over my clit every once in a while making me try to close my legs around him.

I throw my head back and clench my eyes closed, realising that I’ll lose this silly bet and that if he doesn’t stop I will cum.

Suddenly, he presses his thumb right against my clit and at the same time, his dick brushes up against my G-spot. He feels my walls clench around him briefly and I hiss, letting my mouth drop open.

“There you are.” he growled, meaning my ‘feral side’. It seems that Mansk liked the animalistic noises we emitted.

“Fuck-” I whimper, arching my back off the ground. He takes the hint, feeling a sense of pride in his chest as he continues doing exactly what he is. With each thrust, he applies a little more pressure on my clit and rubs under it and I’m gone. I’ll definitely lose.

My hands grip his shoulder, needing to clutch something for support. Deep inside I’m angry at him and at myself for letting this happen and for having it feel so good. So to put up my rebellious message, I dig my fingernails into his back, clawing at the skin in a desperate attempt to contain my pleasure.

Mansk growls, leaning forwards and once again resting his head in the crook of my neck. He licked over the area he bit into last time and then nibbled on the skin around it, tracing his fangs along it in a threatening manner.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, slowly threatening to spill. Mansk looks up at me and grins at the sight.

“Such a needy little thing.” He coos and I know he’s making fun of me.

“You started it-” I sniffle and almost sob in pleasure. “...you idiot.” I can’t think of any good insults or comebacks.

I hiss when he bites down a little more than he should on my neck and I take it as a warning.

“C’mon, stop fightin’ it and cum f’ere me.” he mumbles, placing a kiss on my neck. He doesn’t stop his actions and I know it’ll all be over in a few seconds.

“No-” I whimper, and at this point, I’m begging myself not to come more than I’m telling him. I hate how good he’s making me feel. But it doesn’t matter because, with the next thrust, I’m seeing stars.

“Mansk-” I almost scream, clenching my legs around his waist and throwing my head back. My fingers are still, digging into his back one final time as my own body shakes and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

He rides out my orgasm, extending it for as long as possible.

I’m mindlessly mumbling his name over and over again.

Finally, I come down and my body goes limp beneath him. My chest is heaving and when I look up at him, Mansk has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. Instantly I frown which makes him chuckle.

“You still mad?” he asks and I stare at him in disbelief.

“Until you grow the balls to apologise, yeah.” I reply, wiping my hand over my forehead. My language and attitude being present after all that amazes him.

He smiles with a sigh before speaking. “I’m sorry.” he says but I shake my head.

My hand lifts up to his face and I push his shades up onto his head so that I can see him properly. “I don’t think you mean it.”

He drops his head in defeat before facing me again. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot to you.” he says and I smile, satisfied.

“Are you into me?” I ask but he doesn’t answer. “Because if yes, than this is not the way you should approach things.” I laugh and he smiles to himself, feeling unsure.

“Yeah..” he mumbles, wondering whether he should apologise again. He wasn’t good at these conversations.

I sigh, knowing I’ll have to deal with this emotional wreck from now on. To ease his thoughts I pull him down by his dog tag and this time I initiate the kiss. Mansk melts into it, holding my cheek and when we pull away he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“You have to help me up, I don’t think I can make it to my room.” I say and he grins, nodding and getting up. Mansk gently pulls me to my feet and accompanies me in the shower. It was nice, finally seeing this side of him.

He let me touch him and purred when I washed his back of some dried blood.

Since everyone was asleep we managed to sneak into his room and we fell asleep together. Who knows how much longer we’ll be around to experience this.

Tag list: @ikranwings @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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captainsophiestark · 11 months

Text

Bird Strike

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which I’m finally catching back up on! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Top Gun

Prompt: Apollo; light, the sun, truth, inspiration, medicine, healing

Summary: A bird strikes brings Hangman down and leads to confessions from him and Rooster's sister.

Word Count: 1,825

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright, you're all good Bob. Just take it easy on your wrist for a little while, and you should heal up just fine."

"Thanks," said Bob, giving me a smile as he hopped off my exam table. Life was never boring as Top Gun's chief medical officer, but thankfully today I hadn't had to deal with any serious injuries. Just a slightly sprained wrist from a little too much dog fight football.

"Sure thing." I headed for the door with Bob, since I didn't have anyone else waiting for medical attention. Jake Seresin, the most arrogant pilot at Top Gun (except maybe Mav), was currently up flying, and since I didn't have any pressing work to attend to I wanted to listen in on how he was doing.

"Hey!" Bradley, my older brother, waved as soon as he saw me and Bob enter the room. A few aviators were gathered around, listening to the comms between pilots still in the air. "You missed my run."

"Oh no, I'm so sad. How will I ever recover?"

Bradley just rolled his eyes at me as I sidled up next to him beside the radio. I could hear Jake's voice, strategizing with his wingman and tracking the instructor's positions. I tuned in, imagining I could see his plane as it flew across the sky.

"So you're in here listening carefully to the radio for Seresin but not your brother?"

"Shut up," I said, shoving him back much harder than necessary. I wasn't sure if he knew that he'd found some truth in terms of my feelings for Jake, but I never wanted him to know. "I heal injuries for a living, and I'm just as skilled at causing injuries."

"Don't you have some kind of oath to do no harm?"

"You're my exception."

I gave him a fake sweet smile as he narrowed his eyes at me. He opened his mouth, probably to make a bad attempt at a comeback, but he stopped short at the sounds of distress coming from the radio.

"Hangman, watch out!"

"Bird strike, bird strike!"

My heart stopped in my chest. The room went dead silent, everyone freezing and all conversation coming to a stop as we listened to the radio.

"Hangman to Tower, Hangman to Tower. I need to come in for an immediate emergency landing."

"Copy. Just stay calm, we've got the runway open for you."

"Alright. I'm coming around."

The silence stretched on, hanging over the room like a heavy blanket. I twisted my fingers, fidgeting, trying to dispel the nervous energy. He was going to be fine. He had to be.

I saw Bradley glancing at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him. I kept my eyes and attention glued on the radio. I wasn't sure if I wanted the silence to end or not, but I didn't get a choice as the radio crackled to life again.

"Tower, it's no good, I'm losing speed and altitude too fast. I'm gonna have to eject."

I felt like I'd been hit by a train. Wordlessly, I reached out one hand, and Bradley quickly took it. He stood tall and strong beside me, his face clouded while my world spiraled out of control. This could not be happening.

"He's gonna be fine," Bradley muttered. I barely heard him. It sounded like we were underwater, and the room had started to spin.

Bradley and I had lost our dad this way, when the canopy to his fighter jet didn't detach the way it was supposed to. We'd both been pretty young, but I swear I remembered every awful moment of our mother coming to break the news, of Mav explaining just what had happened and how sorry he was with tears in his eyes. When Bradley had decided to follow our dad's path into becoming a pilot, my number one nightmare had been losing him the same way. Now I might be forced to live that reality with Jake instead.

The silence stretched on as Bradley and I stood, shoulder to shoulder, waiting with everyone else in the room. A moment later, I heard Mav's voice over the radio.

"Canopy looked good and I saw a chute."

Mav continued to call out his position for Jake's recovery team, but I barely heard it as relief crashed like a wave through my ears. I wouldn't be completely relieved until he walked through the door, but at least it sounded like he was going to be just fine.

"It's okay," Bradley muttered, pulling me into a quick hug and mumbling into my hair. "It's okay."

I nodded, still feeling a little shaky as I gave him a quick hug before pulling back.

"I need to get to my exam room. Even if he's perfectly healthy, he's gonna need a checkup to make sure nothing's wrong."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to force myself to calm down a little. I shook my head.

"That's alright. I'm okay."

Bradley didn't look totally convinced, but I managed to shake him anyway with a promise to call him if I needed him. I focused on taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down for the walk back to my exam room. It sort of worked, although I literally paced the room waiting for Jake to be brought in. When I finally heard shuffling outside the door, I quickly crossed the room and flung it open.

"I told you, I'm fine!"

Jake stood in the hallway on his own two feet, wrestling with one of the men who'd brought him in. The guy didn't budge despite Jake's protest, but I decided to step in before things could escalate.

"Jake, get in the exam room."

His head snapped up to face me, but despite his momentary surprise, he didn't back down.

"I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told them, I'm fine. I don't need an exam-"

"You ejected from your plane. You might be walking, but that's no grantee you don't have an injury just waiting to show itself once the adrenaline fades. So come on. The less you fight it, the sooner you can leave and go do whatever it is you want to do so badly."

He fixed me with a look, but I just crossed my arms and stared right back. Finally, once he realized I wasn't going to back down, he sighed.

"Fine. But if I miss somebody shooting Maverick down, I'm gonna be pissed."

I resisted the urge to reply as Jake walked past me, and I followed him into the exam room. My brain still didn't completely believe he was sitting here, in front of me, apparently completely healthy. The adrenaline dump made my hands shake a little as I checked Jake's heartrate and went through a few more basic checks.

"Are you sure you don't feel any pain?" I asked while I worked. I'd already asked him twice before, but I wanted to keep checking in case his answer changed, especially as any potential shock wore off.

"For the third time, yes. Quit hovering already."

I stepped back, hands on my hips as I fixed Jake with a look. He seemed to be perfectly happy and relaxed in the wake of his dangerous adventure, but I was still wrestling with the thought that my worst nightmare almost came true, so I wasn't in the mood to be gentle.

"Jake, it is my job to check you out and make sure you're not injured with something that's going to come back to bite you the second you're out the door. So sit still, stop complaining, and let me do my job!"

"...Since when do you care so much?"

"Excuse me?"

"Not about your job, but... about me. You seem like you care a lot. I thought you hated me for all the shit I give your brother."

I sighed. "No. I mean, sure, sometimes it's annoying and sometimes it's a little over the line, but... no. I don't hate you, Jake."

He didn't really respond, which left me to finish my exam without resistance. Thankfully, he was perfectly healthy, not a scratch on him. Still, that didn't stop my hands from shaking as I lowered my stethoscope. I started to pull away, but Jake caught my hand and stopped me.

"Hey, you're shaking." I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. I'd done so well hiding it until now. "What's wrong?"

I opened my eyes to find Jake staring at me, his bright blue eyes full of unusual concern. I sighed.

"You know mine and Bradley's history, Jake. I lost my dad to the same thing that landed you here today. I've spent every single day since Bradley joined the navy terrified that I would lose him the same way, and then when I heard you on the radio, dropping out of the sky and being forced to eject..." I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then looking back at Jake. "I've had feelings for you for a little while now, Seresin, but when I heard that call? I just about had a heart attack at the thought of losing you."

Jake huffed a little, disbelieving laugh, then tugged me closer to him. My heart stuttered in my chest as Jake grinned.

"I've had feelings for you for a while now, too," he said. A smile pulled its way onto my face, but a moment later, Jake's expression sobered. "Although I have to warn you, sweetheart, if we do something about those feelings... you're not gonna be any less relaxed going about your day since I'm going to be up in the air all the time."

I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning in to rest my head against Jake's forehead. He still held my hand tight, giving it a little reassuring squeeze.

"I know," I finally said. "But... I'm willing to take that risk. It's worth it to me. And it's not like I wouldn't be worried about you anyway."

Jake pulled away, the grin firmly back in place as he looked at me. "I'm glad I'm worth it to you."

Without another word, he leaned back in, this time for a kiss that I'd thought about more than once (and apparently so had he). We stayed that way for a long time, savoring the moment and each other as my hands wandered over Jake's shoulders, reassuring myself that this was real. He was okay, and now we were both better than okay.

When we finally pulled apart, Jake still had that ridiculous cocky grin on his face as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter to his chest.

"Your brother is gonna hate this," he said gleefully. I just laughed and lightly smacked his chest. He was right, my brother was going to hate this, but Bradley would just have to deal with it. Now that I had Jake, I didn't plan to let him go any time soon.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

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wntrs0ldier · 1 year

Text

An Offer · part 02

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), Brock Rumlow

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

On your way to a meeting with Brock Rumlow and his father, you wondered what it would cost you to jump out of a moving car. Would something like that be worse than marrying Brock and becoming part of his Family? The Family, which was mainly in the business of prostitution and drugs? Actually, drugs were an issue that you tolerated. But the vision of a relationship – arranged or not – with a pimp made you nauseous.

And all you knew about Brock was that he was hot-tempered, impulsive and aggressive, but this wasn’t uncommon among gangsters.

You also remembered what Bucky said.

Do you honestly believe Brock Rumlow will hold up his part of the deal? Did you forget his relationship with women or are you just going to overlook it?

“Try to keep an open mind.” You heard Michael. The sound of his voice managed to stop the chaos in your head. “James can be persuasive and thinks he knows everything. But remember he is not in your situation and never will be, so try not to turn against me. Focus on the welfare of the Family.”

You restrained yourself from snorting at his words. Focusing on the welfare of the Family and business had become one big headache for you – it was giving you sleepless nights, eating you alive, and Michael was asking you for more. You were already tired, stressed and sick to your stomach.

The car stopped outside the pub that Rumlows had proposed for a meeting, and as soon as the engine was turned off, and you realised the seriousness of the situation and how close you were to it, you felt an overpowering sense of anxiety and panic. Your breathing became uneven, the inside of your hands damp with sweat.

You jumped uneasily as the driver opened the door for you.

“I need a moment.” You were able to focus enough to make your voice sound normal, and the words left your mouth almost flawlessly. “I’ll just fix my makeup.”

Being alone in the car was somehow helping, but you still couldn't bring yourself to exit the vehicle – that step led straight to a meeting with Brock Rumlow.

“What is going on?” You heard a muffled voice that belonged to neither Michael nor the driver, so you looked up at the side window. Bucky was standing just by the car door, he wasn't speaking to you but to Michael.

“She wanted a few minutes for herself.”

Frowning, Bucky looked inside the car through the window, and you could easily see the confusion in his eyes. For a moment, you just looked at each other – you with pure mess in your head, and he as if trying to read your mind from the expression on your face. He grabbed the handle, and a refreshing spring air burst inside the car.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke gently, leaning towards you. “You okay?”

“I-” you gasped. Closing your eyes, you took the biggest possible breath you could afford right now. “I'm not sure I want to go there.”

Bucky stared at you in silence, a pained concern spreading across his face. He clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” you continued in a trembling voice. “I don't normally get all-... like that. I’m not a child,” you were babbling mindlessly, fearing that otherwise he would have thought you were a spoiled hysteric.

“I know,” Bucky said immediately, cutting off your train of thought. “Listen…” he began with a hesitation. He let out a quiet sigh and wetted his lips. “We go there and it'll all be over soon. You don’t have to make any decisions yet,” he stated. “I'll be there the whole time. And I won't let anyone hurt you. Alright?” His voice was soft, delicate, but firm and decisive at the same time. “We’ll get out of there anytime you want, huh?”

The longer you stared at Bucky's face, the less anxious you felt. You genuinely believed you would be safe with him. You didn't have the head to wonder why you trusted him implicitly at that moment, but one thought automatically came to you – you needed someone like him in that situation; someone who didn't pressure you.

You nodded, and Bucky smiled. He seemed to relax a little, as if a wave of relief had spread through his body.

“I don’t want to be late.” You sounded weak, embarrassed by the scene from a moment ago. But it looked like Bucky was pretending not to see anything.

“They set the meeting in a pub,” he said with a disapproval that was not far from disgust. “Make them wait.”

Brock greeted you with a smile that faded as soon as Bucky entered the building. Rumlow Senior did a much better job of hiding his displeasure, but still watched him with caution. Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to be completely calm. Bored even.

Brock invited you to a booth, where you and Michael took a seat. Brock and his father sat opposite, and Bucky grabbed a chair from another table and moved it a little closer.

“Seriously,” Brock finally spoke up, indicating impatience. “What's this clown doing here?”

“You don’t know what clowns do, Brock?” Bucky answered. “They make people smile.” He reached for the knife attached to his belt. “Wanna try? I can give you one.”

You watched Bucky and your mouth went dry. You thought it was inappropriate, to say the least – you were sitting in front of, presumably, your future husband, but it was someone else who made you need to wet your throat and collect your thoughts. You had an unclear sense of how Bucky was affecting you, but you told yourself that any handsome man would make a similar impression on you. And Bucky was just that. Beautiful with his blue, sad eyes, nose perfect in every way, and pink, plump lips. Well-built as far as your eyesight could reach. He smelled nice; not as strong and overwhelming as the men you usually came into contact with. And his hair must have been really soft to touch…

Shaking your head to get rid of these thoughts, you reached for the glass of ice water standing in front of you. You stuck your guilt-filled gaze into the table top and dipped your lips into the cold, refreshing liquid.

Michael cleared his throat. “We should get to business.”

The beginning of the conversation was similar to what you had already heard that night when Timothy Barnes turned up at your house. You all knew what the deal was supposed to be about, but Michael had been going over it from the start – he wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings, and that the Rumlow Family would not actually use the agreement against yours.

You wondered why Brock didn't interfere; why he didn't have questions, didn't ask for correction or clarification of any issue. And when you glanced at him you noticed that he was looking at you in a way that made you even more nauseous. You couldn't compare it to the situation when John Walker was watching you. Although he was doing it inappropriately, it wasn't harmful. Brock, on the other hand, had something so rejecting and disgusting in his look that you would rather have disappeared out of his sight.

We’ll get out of there anytime you want.

Having remembered Bucky's words, you turned your gaze to him. Yet Bucky wasn’t focusing on you. Running his fingertip over the blunt side of the knife, he stared at Brock.

“How much exactly is there to take over?” Rumlow Senior asked.

“Well…” Michael sighed heavily. “An art gallery, two casinos; one here, the other in Atlantic City, three real estates, shares in the stock market, arms dealing for Mr. Anthony Stark…” he listed for formality; most of the Mafia community knew about each of these things. Except for the location of the real estates Michael had mentioned. “The territory of all activities, the protection of businesses in that area. And political influence.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief from his jacket. “As long as, of course, you take care of such friends,” he told Brock. “And I must admit that we would prefer to maintain good relationships with them.”

“Cross out the gallery,” you said. “It belongs to me only, and I decide what happens to it.” You seemed surprisingly assertive to everyone in the room, and when you noticed the perplexed looks on both Rumlows’ faces, you forced a falsely sweet smile.

“If that's your only condition…” Brock replied.

“Not really,” Bucky interjected, casually scratching his back with the knife he had played with earlier. “Y/N will have a full view of what is happening with the things she owns. I'm talking about casinos and everything else,” he clarified blandly. “And one hundred percent decision-making in major changes.”

You glanced uneasily at Bucky. Since you had no idea about running your father's business, you didn't need all this. But you understood his strategy – Bucky wanted to secure you against Brock.

Brock clenched his fists and took a deep breath. Looking at him, you thought involuntarily of a bull provoked by a red rag. “What's all this? A fucking prenup?”

Rumlow Senior put his hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Of course,” He smiled mysteriously, ignoring his son's anger. “Miss Y/N will have total control over her father's business. Provided that a male descendant is born within one year of the marriage.”

You were prepared to hear this. However, it seemed to you that Rumlow Senior had maliciously taken advantage of this condition because you and Bucky had got under his skin.

“Write down your version of the agreement, we will do the same,” Michael broke the brief silence, his voice monotone. “We’ll compare both versions and reach the final one.”

Brock offered you something to drink, and hoping to still see something in him that would make the arrangement less painful, you agreed. Michael and Rumlow Senior stayed in the booth; it didn't bother you that they could have already started discussing points of the possible agreement. Bucky was sitting right next to them and you knew he would have intervened on your behalf. What you didn't know was why he was doing it. You didn't even have any grounds to guess, but you decided to go with the assumption that he wanted you in his debt.

You stood at the bar. Although the pub was closed, the bartender was behind the counter, ready to take your order.

“What are you drinking?” Brock asked. “To celebrate our new friendship?” He sized you up in a way that he probably thought was discreet.

You didn't want to celebrate anything. You needed to numb yourself out.

“Tequila?” You smiled with pursed lips.

Brock nodded at the bartender, and the man placed two small glasses and a full bottle on the counter, then poured the alcohol. You grabbed one of the glasses and consumed its content in one steady tilt. The fire burning your throat briefly distracted you from the situation you found yourself in. Grimacing, you slid the glass back to the bartender, who filled it without a word.

“That prenup, you know…” Brock started, taking a step closer to you. “You could've just asked nicely. And I would give you everything you want.” He shrugged. You didn't believe a word he said. But if he actually spoke sincerely, you guessed what he meant by ‘asking nicely’. “You didn't have to bring Barnes here to get it done for you. I'm even a bit discouraged now, to be honest.”

There was a sense of distaste in your mouth that you needed to wash away with another shot of tequila.

“You’re right. Sorry,” you said with insincere remorse, and only did so because it was some way of getting out of this confrontation alive. You believed that if you behaved submissively enough, Brock would leave you alone. But, actually, you felt like laughing. Yes, Brockie, you thought. You’re a genius; so smart, so perfect. And a fucking prick.

“On second thought… You can still ask nicely. I will listen to you in private, what about that?” He moved even closer to you. One of Brock's hands found its way to your hip. Immediately the other followed, and before you knew what was actually happening, Brock was pressing you against his body.

“Take your hands off me, please.” There was no panic in your voice, just patience.

“Why?” He didn't even pretend to be surprised by your request. “Don't you think we should get to know each other better? We don't have much time. I mean, only a year? Minus nine months or whatever,” he added, and it sounded much more disgusting than you could've imagined.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Rumlow, or I’ll break them.”

You didn't even notice when Bucky appeared nearby. The anger, although controlled, was still visible on his face. And it seemed entirely justified to you – Bucky had warned you and Michael about Brock from the very beginning.

Rumlow stepped back reluctantly. “What's the big deal? We are almost married!”

“Do you remember signing anything, Brock? Huh?” Bucky said with apparent calm. “Maybe you do because coke has fried your fucking brain.”

Trying to intimidate him, Brock stood right in front of Bucky. But Bucky turned out to be unfazed by it.

“It will happen. Sooner or later, ‘cause there’s no more profitable candidate on the market, and you know that,” Brock muttered. “And sooner rather than later I’m going to fuck her.” He nodded in your direction. “But don't worry, we'll name our first son James. Or maybe not, since that name seems to bring bad luck. I already know one James who put his daddy in a grave.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

“That’s right, Buck. Stay out of it.” Brock turned back to you. “Where were we?” He licked his lips.

He didn't manage to get close to you again. Two hands landed on his shoulders and jerked with such force that Brock fell onto a nearby table. Before he had a chance to do something, Bucky came at him, taking a couple heavy steps. With one hand, he grabbed his shirt and held him in place; with the fist of the other, he punched him in the face hard enough to make Brock stagger again. This, however, enraged him enough to regain some control – Brock attacked Bucky, and he took that gladly.

They exchanged a few blows; Bucky aimed his nimbly and precisely, Brock seemed to strike blindly. And that's probably why he ended up on the floor, with Bucky's shoe print on his dark T-shirt.

Brock was catching his breath and Bucky observed his work, but he didn't finish it off. He stood more or less in the same place from which he had pushed Brock.

You enjoyed it. A lot. It wasn't necessarily about Brock getting what he deserved, but the spectacle itself. Men punching each other – the kind of violence you loved in some twisted way, especially when there was alcohol running through your veins.

Michael and Rumlow Senior were also watching the whole scene. Neither of them intended to react, and both looked as if they were witnessing a fight between two teenagers too young to control their anger and raging hormones.

“Hey…” You turned to the bartender. “Can I get a cloth and some ice?”

Rumlow whispered something to Michael, then helped his son up. “Let’s go, you-” he growled, his mouth set in a hard line. Michael left the pub behind them, presumably to smooth things over.

The bartender placed a clean cloth and a glass filled with ice cubes on the counter. You poured them onto the cloth and folded it, making a cold compress.

When Bucky appeared at the bar, you glanced at him without saying a word. Although the redness stretching from his temple to his cheekbone was quite clear to see, you carefully studied his entire face, trying to find something else there. You weren't sure what exactly, but you were somehow satisfied to notice in his eyes traces of cooled anger slowly turning to consternation.

Again, Bucky was allowing you to come into wordless contact with him, so without any resistance you lowered your gaze to his right hand, resting loosely on the surface of the counter. His knuckles looked much worse than his face, but it didn't surprise you – he threw more punches than he took.

As you looked up at his face, you caught his eyes. They were bored into you.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asked, breaking the silence between you.

“If it was about me, I would say it wasn't the smartest thing you could have done,” you answered, reaching for the prepared compress. You enjoyed the show, but you were worried Bucky had gotten himself into trouble because of that, and it was your fault.

You lifted the compress to his face and pressed it to the side, and he didn't even blink.

“Well, it was about you,” he threw out casually, without making the slightest effort to convince you that this was indeed the case.

“Sure,” You pressed the compress harder, making Bucky wince slightly.

“I’m sorry. I’m being snarky,” he sighed.

“It’s okay. You got every right to be angry,” you claimed. “Brock shouldn’t have brought up your dad like that.”

“You’re right,” Bucky agreed, his voice bland once again. “I could have punched him earlier. Before he even started talking’.”

You smiled slightly and tilted your head, looking at him with the least believable disapproval there was.

“How's your pain?” you asked softly, nodding at his hand.

Bucky looked at it too, then lifted it off the counter, bent and stretched his fingers. “It’s nothing,” he stated, although you could see that the bloody wounds were making him uncomfortable.

The door of the pub slammed, so you both instinctively looked in that direction. You've never seen Michael so annoyed before.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he scolded Bucky. “Do you have any idea what you just did? Now I have to somehow convince the Rumlows not to give up on us.”

“For what?” Bucky bit back. “To sell your protege to these fu-”

“Watch your tone.”

“Michael,” you began. You intended not only to express your opinion, but also to give Bucky some space; to take Michael off of his back. “You don’t have to convince the Rumlows to anything.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “How come?”

“Well…” you hesitated, nibbling on your bottom lip. You were aware that he was trying to save your father's life's work, and you weren't making it any easier for him. But it was time to face the truth – Brock was the worst possible candidate. “I don’t think my marriage with Brock will work out. Rumlow Senior doesn’t want to cooperate, he just wants more power. And Brock couldn’t care less about business.” In reality, you had no idea if it was actually the truth. But some gut instinct told you to plant a seed of doubt in Michael.

And you knew you had succeeded – Michael was silent, considering something.

“All right,” he said. “I will contact Rumlow Senior one last time. If they agree to our terms, we will meet with them again. If they demand more, no deal will be done.”

The situation wasn't ideal, but at least you had bought yourself some time.

“And one more thing,” Michael added. “This is the last meeting you attended.” He looked at Bucky. “Whether it's Brock or any other candidate, I don't want to see you. I will not accept you messing with Y/N's head. I want you to stay away from her. Is that clear?”

At first glance, Bucky seemed unmoved. But there was something in his eyes – something strikingly similar to the way he looked at Brock before he came at him.

“Is that clear, Mr. Barnes?”

“Yeah. I heard you the first time,” Bucky answered. He headed to the door, and without saying a word, or at least glimpsing at you, left the pub.

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #mafia!bucky x reader

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clemblog · 5 months

Text

Caine’s Lesson - Part 6

•

Pomni had got a lengthy explanation from Ma about the deal with Croco Ranch. Gunmigoo, Max and Chad went out to get resources and find lost citizens who’d managed to escape the Fudge Monster. In the meantime, Ma worked on her own back at the ranch, getting people settled, assigning jobs and slowly building up a civilisation, a home which wasn’t centred around the eye of Caine.

Which was why she was currently getting settled in a little back room at the main barn on the ranch. It was where all the citizens, including Lou herself, were being housed for the time being.

Nobody really wanted to start construction on new buildings until they had a bigger numbers in residents.

There was a few rows of bunk beds, all with little knotted curtains which if Pomni had to guess, Ma had most likely made them so everyone could have some privacy if they needed it! They where pretty cute-

Pomni’s little section had curtains patterned with what looked to be waffles. Her pillow was white put soft, probably made from some kind of marshmallow based material in the world. The knitted blanket sat on the bed was in red and blue, perfectly sized for her.

She would readily admit that this place was so much more comfortable and welcoming than the circus could ever be.

She’d tuck herself into bed as the light in the barn dimmed, the sun setting alongside it. She went to sleep feeling safe, secure and with a small smile on her face. It was the best sleep she’d had in a long time.

It was a few hours later that she’d stir awake. She opened her eyes to hear the barn door be shut quietly and see Gummigoo step inside.

“Gummigoo..?”

“Oh, sorry Poms. Did we wake ya?”

“No- Y-You didn’t. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just swapping out with Chad on night watch.”

“O-Oh. I didn’t even realise you guys where doing that-“

“Figured it was the smart choice considering the fudge is still around.”

“Y-Yeah, it is smart-“

“I’m glad you think so, Ma said it’s one of my better ideas!”

“…Do you want company?”

“Only if you feel like you’ve got enough rest, Poms.”

“I-I don’t mind-

“Come join me on the beams then, Pommy~”

•

“Caine? Caineeeeee? Are you here? I wish to talk to you-“

“What is it Kinger?”

“Aaaaagh-! There you are. I wanted to talk to you about Ragatha-“

“Mm, what about her?”

“She.. isn’t doing well with the whole Pomni being gone thing-“

“So?”

“…I was hoping as our… helpful AI host, you might be able to help her-“

“Why would I want to do that? If Ragatha is struggling so much, Pomni will feel obligated to come back to us.”

“Well- Yes- But aren’t you worried about Ragatha you know-“

“If so, she’ll go to the pit with everyone else.”

“…Caine-“

“And someone else will help me make Pomni come back.”

“…”

“Kinger?”

“..You’re not the guy I once knew Caine-“

“…Oh. Well. People change Kinger.”

“…You’re not a person. You’re an AI and you where my best friend-“

“…”

“…The only reason I’m keeping my sanity, is for Ragatha. I hope you know that.”

“…Kinger-“

“If I she goes, I go. And that’s your fault.”

•

Ragatha was sat on the floor of her room, sniffling. All the worry and sadness was so overwhelming and she couldn’t figure out how to cope in the slightest- It was odd- She used to be so good at coping with her emotions- She could bottle it up for weeks at a type- But now nothing- She couldn’t stop herself from crying for an hour at most! Anytime she did, her thoughts just filled with worry of Pomni and what might’ve happened to her. And then she couldn’t help but sob.

The door to her room slowly pushed open, and the shuffle of a familiar figure stepped into the room. A pair of white gloved hands pulled her into his chest in a comforting manner.

“It’ll be okay Ragatha, I’m here.” Spoke Kinger, patting her back. “There, there.”

She sniffled at this, clinging onto his embrace like a life line. She already felt better. She felt safe and happier in the hold of her Da- Her friend. Her friend.

“I’m sure Pomni will be back soon, there there.”

“T-Thanks Kinger.”

“It is no problem! How about we go and see Zooble and Gangle?”

“A-Alright-“

The pair got up and began the walk to the main area of the circus.

“…What are we doing-“

Ragatha giggled.

“We’re going to see Zooble and Gangle.”

“Ah okay!”

•

“So, any clue what you’re thinking for breakfast in a few hours?” Hummed Gummigoo, wanting to make conversation.

“Oh- I’ll wait to see what everyone else eats before I do-“ Began Pomni.

“Hey.” Spoke Gummigoo, softly, taking her hand. “You don’t have to worry about us having enough food. We’re farmers, if there ain’t enough we’ll make enough.”

Pomni faulted at this with a shy snicker.

“U-Uh no- That’s not why-“ She mused, sheepishly. “Caine uh made it so I don’t need to eat- As the saviour- I can eat- Just it’s more for fun-“

Gummigoo hummed at this gently, watching her speak. “I see. Interesting~ I’ll still be making you a plate regardless. You shouldn’t be deprived one of the joys of life, just because you don’t need it to survive. Crikey, good food is heavenly Pommy, particularly Ma’s pie. I’ll have to see if she’ll make it anytime soon-“

“O-Oh alright.” Chuckled Pomni, Gummigoo was so silly and friendly- And she kinda adored that about him. She didn’t have to doubt for a second that he cared.

“Anywho, another thing.” He continued happily. “Me and lads saw your skills with Lou and wanted to ask if you wanted to head out with us tomorrow.”

“Oh- What for?”

“Just general hunting for supplies and citizens. We’ll try and avoid the fudge, but if we run into it, it ain’t gonna do no harm if we shoot some more bullets into it.”

“I-I can come! I just- don’t really know how to use a gun-“

“Oh alright, how about I teach you after breakie?”

“Y-You’d do that?”

“Course! We don’t want our saviour being unable to defend themselves.”

“A-alright then!”

“It’s a plan, Poms~”

Pomni knew she could be happy here.

Part 7

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 1 year

Text

I can't think of a title for these Nimona headcanons

Throughout their childhood Bal and Ambrosius switched between who was taller

They would get growth spurts so frequently that it wasn’t uncommon for them to go to the nurse's office just to settle a score and check who was taller every couple of weeks

And when they did figure out who was taller the “winner” would make a massive scene about it and constantly mock the other until they got a growth spurt

For some reason Bal was unreasonably proud after his growth spurts and would often say shit like “I’m sorry my lord you’re going to have to speak up I can’t hear you from this great distance”

While Ambrosius was plastered to his side

Bal was actually taller at the start of their relationship and he always made a scene about kissing Ambrosius

He would let out a groan whenever he had to lean down and straighten back up and would make joking remarks about his back hurting because of it

Once it became clear that Ambrosius was winning the height contest he made up for the constant jokes

Bal calls Ambrosius short will so much honesty and conviction that bystanders have often told them to stand back-to-back just to make sure Ambrosius is taller

I said in this post that Ambrosius is allergic to a shit ton of things

And because of that he has multiple EpiPens

He keeps one on hand at all times, one in his car, one in his office, and one in his room

He was also given two extras that Bal and Nimona took

He didn’t even know that they took them until one night they went out to dinner

And he order something that gave him a mild reaction

He knew it was fine but the duo was freaking out and he noticed that they kept reaching for something

He asked them about it and they both unwillingly showed him the EpiPens

He wasn’t even surprised that they took them he was just shocked he didn’t notice they were missing

When Nimona is distracted or in a rush their human form is less believable and sometimes ventures into the realm of uncanny

Sometimes its bigger things like their limbs being disproportionate to their body or their eyes being bigger than the average person

And sometimes it’s smaller things like the texture of their skin being closer to sharks' scales and their hair feeling like animal fur

He also doesn’t need to breathe or blink as often as humans and he physically can’t break a sweat

So it’s kind of creepy to watch him do something physically taxing without his chest heaving or blinking sweat out of his eyes

Whenever the boys mess up or break a promise Nimona makes a big deal about them “making it up to her”

Sometimes she makes them cook for a month straight

Sometimes she drags them to the store and forces them to either buy her something or watch her back as she steals something

Either way once it’s done they call it even and never bring it up again

But she also makes an equally big deal about when she breaks a promise and she begs them to pick something to make it right

Sometimes when the boys are feeling petty they’ll really wait to figure out their favor and she always acts like they’re torturing her

But she always makes up for it even if it’s something as simple as flying them to work cause they’re running late

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #every time I write about Nimona I just have that tiktok audio in my head #the one that goes “I love stealing I love taking things”#It just fits the vibe #I don’t know if it’s just me #but today feels like a slow day #just in general but mostly when it comes to content #except these headcanons #these bitches were some of the easiest I’ve written

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lambertdiary · 1 year

Text

Sorry Won't Fix This

"Sorry Won't Fix This" Masterlist

A/N: I decided to join @omgrachwrites 's 2K followers celebration! Congrats friend on this amazing milestone, I hope you like this! I went for the angst prompt "sorry won't fix this" since I don't think I've posted enough angst. I'm sorry if this is confusing and messy, I don't know what happened. also I was heavily inspired by this gif and that whole scene.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, language, lots of dialogue

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

It was New Year’s Eve and the three friends were making their way through the crowded hallways. They had just arrived at the party and the big mansion looked like it couldn’t hold one more person. It was a big deal apparently, one of the rich families in town were the hosts of the celebration, they were famous for their incredible parties and it seemed like they went bigger every year, so being invited was a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity’, as some would call it.

Chloe, the youngest daughter of the family, went to the same school as them. She was beautiful, cool, interesting and had a lot of friends who constantly got invited to her parents’ home. Chris and Y/N didn’t know the girl but Dalton did, and she asked him to bring his friends. They were of course very excited to be there but the hundreds of drunk people bumping into them made it a little overwhelming.

“I don’t wanna get drunk tonight” Y/N said as soon as they found the alcohol.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, why do you care?” Chris asked, raising her voice so that her friends could hear her.

“I don’t know, there’s too many people here and I basically know no one” Y/N was looking around trying to find a familiar face “Plus, someone should stay sober”

“If that’s what you want” Chris replied, shrugging her shoulders “Dalton, take a shot with me”

“Uh-” He hesitated “Maybe I should be the sober one tonight”

“No, drunk Dalton is more helpful than sober Dalton for some reason” He rolled his eyes and took the tiny glass from Chris “You were the one who got invited to this party anyway, it would be rude if you didn’t get wasted tonight”

Dalton nodded. Maybe Chris had a point, he wouldn’t wanna appear rude in front of everyone, especially not in front of Chloe. He took that first sip like he has never had alcohol before, making a disgusted face and a weird noise.

“Don’t be dramatic” Chris said, rolling her eyes and handing him another shot.

“I’m gonna find food” Y/N said as she saw her friends determined to get plastered before midnight. The second shot went down a lot easier for both of them, and eventually, after many many weird combinations, any drink tasted like water. They swore they were fine, that they were not drunk at all, even though Y/N spotted them dancing. It was like they didn’t have a care in the world and their only purpose was to get lost in the beat, which wasn’t hard to believe for someone like Chris, but Dalton? He would never do something like that, especially not in front of hundreds of people.

Y/N was holding a soda while she kept an eye on her friends, talking to a lot of people and occasionally joining them on their dancing. The whole party was really impressive, there were waiters everywhere, unlimited food and drinks, a massive pool and even some entertainment every now and then. She has never been to a party like that and she was curious to meet the person that invited them there in the first place.

Hours went by and Y/N looked at the time. 11 PM. One more hour until midnight. Everyone around her was having a great time, she was too but she was starting to regret her decision of not drinking anything. Waiting for the new year to come with her closest friends at a party like this called for a drink, even if it was just one. She wanted to tell Chris about her one drink but as soon as she found her, she grabbed her hand and started guiding her through the people

“I need to find a bathroom” Chris said. They walked through the many hallways until they finally found a bathroom.

Chris went in but kept the conversation going “Where’s Dalton” Y/N yelled.

“I don’t know, with Chloe and her friends I think”

“Oh, did you meet them?”

“I did, I’m sure they’re nice but it’s hard to understand what they’re saying with so much alcohol in their systems”

“You’re one to talk” Y/N joked, and Chris opened the door dramatically.

“I’m not drunk, and even if I was, I think I’m really good at hiding it” Chris started walking back to the party, Y/N following her.

“I would like to disagree”

“You’re not allowed to”

They went back to the dance floor, finding a lonely Dalton dancing with passion, stumbling as he tried to stop himself from falling. They danced with him for a while and then tried to convince him to go wash his face before midnight, but he refused. Y/N decided to get him some water, that would definitely help her drunk friend. She went to find some water for Dalton and an alcoholic drink for herself, and after a moment she made her way back. It was nearly midnight and she wanted to be with Chris and Dalton when the clock hit 12 AM. Unfortunately, with everyone at the party gathering outside getting ready for the count down, Y/N lost sight of them, they weren’t on the dance floor where she left them. She assumed they were in the garden, where the big screen with the time was, so she walked around for a while to look for them but gave up when she noticed how hard it would be to spot them in the massive crowd.

She did see a familiar face though, Chloe “Hey” She approached her with a friendly smile.

Chole looked a little drunk, just like anyone else there, but she returned the smile “Hi! I’m Chloe” She said, hugging Y/N.

“I know, I’m Y/N” She replied, hugging her back and breaking it after a moment.

“Pretty! I love your name”

“Thanks” Y/N smiled at her, happy that she finally met the famous Chloe “I’m here with Dalton”

“Oh yeah, Dalton, I was just with him. He looks like he’s having a really good time. Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, I am. This place is amazing” She looked around and admired the expensive art on the wall “Anyway, how do you know Dalton?”

“He painted me once” Oh.

“Oh, cute” She forced a smile.

“Yeah, he’s so talented” Chloe smiled again, and her smile made Y/N realize why they were invited to the party “Don’t you think?”

“He is, definitely” Y/N wasn’t being mean, but she felt guilty for reacting this way, Chloe was really nice and it wasn’t at all her fault, Dalton could so whatever he wanted anyway “Listen, I’m gonna go find my friends but thank you”

“Any time!” She left and Y/N chugged the drink she was holding. Looking at the time again she realized there were five minutes left of the current year. She had to be quick if she wanted to find them before midnight.

Was she jealous? Maybe. Y/N and Dalton had a rather complicated history. They have known each other for a couple of years now and are definitely good friends. It wasn’t always like that, though. The first year of their ‘friendship’ consisted of hooking up and regretting it, they tried to be something more but it always ended badly. Whether it involved trust issues, constant jealousy, lack of effort or even meaningless arguments, they never found a way to work through their problems.

Y/N still had feelings for him, they never went away but she didn’t wanna keep trying, not when Dalton didn't feel the same way. Truth is, he did feel like that, he constantly thought about her but whenever he tried something it went nowhere, so he just gave up on her. They were so oblivious of each other’s feelings.

“Chris, have you seen Dalton?” Y/N asked when she finally found her.

“Uhh-” Chris scanned the people around her and was about to say no, but then she saw him.

Ten

Nine

Her reaction was really obvious, making Y/N immediately direct her attention to where she was looking.

Eight

Seven

Dalton and Chloe were together, really close to each other. She had her arms around his neck and he was holding her waist. Looking down at her with those eyes.

Six

Five

“I’m sorry Y/N” Chris whispered before hugging her.

Four

Three

She wanted to look away, but just couldn’t for some reason. Why would she want to hurt her own feelings like that?

Two

One

“Happy new year!” Everyone yelled at the same time.

Y/N closed her eyes and held Chris tighter, whispering “Happy new year”

She dared to look back at Dalton and Chloe, wanting to confirm her suspicions. And they were right. They were kissing deeply, and a few of Chloe’s friends were hyping them up.

She wanted to cry but that is not how she wanted to start the new year, and she was mad at herself for not trying to fix things with him before it was too late “I’m gonna go find more alcohol” She told Chris.

“Y/N come on, don’t let Dalton ruin tonight”

“He didn’t, I just want another drink” Y/N said before leaving, Chris wanted to follow her but she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Happy new year!” Dalton said, leaning in for a hug.

“What the hell, Dalton?” Chris took a step back “Why did you abandon us? I thought we agreed to be together for the countdown” She was mad.

“Sorry, I was just with-”

“Good job, now we’re gonna leave. You should stay, though”

“What? Why?”

“I’m gonna go find Y/N” Chris rolled her eyes and went back into the mansion.

Dalton followed her. He was a little confused, why was she mad? Were they both mad? He was about to ask her but he saw Y/N going back to the garden “Y/N!” He yelled, but the music was too loud. He walked behind her and touched her back when he was close enough.

“Happy new year” Dalton smiled, but it quickly faded when he saw her eyes “Everything okay?”

Y/N looked at him with storms in her eyes “Is that why we came here?”

Dalton stayed silent for a moment “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Y/N didn’t know if she should tell him, they weren’t together so why should she care? He for sure didn’t so maybe it was time she let him go “It doesn’t matter, I’m leaving” She started walking but Dalton stopped her.

“Please tell me what happened”

“I shouldn’t-” She said, walking again “Just forget it, okay?”

Dalton finally understood why she was acting like that “Is this about Chloe?”

“I said forget it”

“Why do you always do this?” That made her stop on her tracks and turn around to face Dalton.

“Do what?”

“Come to me yelling about us when you have made it clear you want nothing with me”

“I never said that”

“But that’s what you always imply, I make moves and you push me away. You say you’re not ready for a relationship but-”

“But what?”

“You- I’m the only one you reject, every time. And now this is my fault somehow?”

Y/N scoffed “You know damn well how I feel”

“No I don’t, Y/N, and that’s the problem”

“Well, that’s your problem. You never listen to me, not then and not now”

“I did- I do” He stammered, running a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say “I just wanna understand”

“Understand what?”

“What happened to us” He got closer to her and tried to hold her hand, but Y/N didn’t allow it.

“You know what happened, you and your million reasons to simply not care about me, about us, or our relationship. Dalton, you made it so fucking hard”

“So you’re just tossing out blame and washing your hands”

“You have no idea how hard I tried to save us”

“Did you really? Then why did you insist on picking every little detail to fight with me?”

“Because I cared”

“Cared? So you don’t anymore?” Y/N didn’t say anything, scared to make things worse between them “Then why are you so mad that I kissed Chloe?”

“Because I love you”

“Stop lying to me” Dalton was loud this time, too loud.

She stared at him and Dalton didn’t say anything. She couldn’t believe he just raised his voice at her. He quickly realized and was about to apologize but Y/N interrupted him “Don’t even bother, happy new year” Y/N started walking again, repeating in her mind that she needed to find Chris.

“Y/N, I’m sorry”

“Sorry won’t fix this, it won’t fix any of this”

“Then I don’t know how to fix it”

She turned around again “Maybe you can’t, not this time”

There was an awkward silence, both of them trying to think of something to say “You said we’re not good for each other and maybe you were right” Dalton finally muttered.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. It broke her heart to hear him say those words but she knew it was true. Being together and hating him seemed worse than not being with him and wondering what could’ve been.

“I guess I was. Have fun”

She walked away for the last time, knowing things would never be the same.

#this was very dramatic #but i love drama #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lamber angst #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert imagine #insidious #insidious 5 #insidious the red door #ty simpkins

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 1 year

Text

Words can hurt | Bill Kaulitz x Male Reader

requested by: @billsjum6ie <3

“i’ll tell you one last time bill, i’m not coming to this dinner thing with your band. i’m tired! i just came back from work.” you complained as you prepared yourself a meal while bill was trying to stop you in every way.

tokio hotel had organised a dinner all together since it was a night where they had free time, and he wanted you to meet the george, gustav and the staff. you had already met tom of course.

“c’mon! i’m asking you nicely. it’s not like you have to do something, you just need to sit down and fucking eat!” bill protested grabbing the stirring pot from your hand and throwing it in the sink.

you gasped at his gesture, he really became a child when you guys argued and he always wanted to be right.

“it’s not just that! i have to talk and be active when in reality i just wanna go to fucking sleep, bill! i don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this, i’ll meet them some other day!” you threw your hands in the air as you talked, before rolling your eyes and turning your back to him.

“because i want you to meet them today! it’s important to me, but you only think about yourself like always.” he folded his arms to his chest, leaning against the counter and looking at you with an air of superiority.

your eyes widened and you let out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him incredule, “i only think about myself? me? yeah right! because i’m the one who doesn’t have time for their partner since work comes first but expects them to cater to his every need!”

“yeah well at least i don’t complain for being tired when all i do is sleep and work in a damn pub!” bill yelled, the vein in his neck growing bigger.

you were speechless as you heard what he said, you couldn’t believe it. your own boyfriend had shamed you for your job, knowing exactly how much of a failure you felt for not being able to find anything related to your major.

you scoffed losing the appetite, so you turned off everything you were using to cook and stormed off the kitchen, leaving bill alone. he knew he had fucked up.

the next two days were spent in total silence.

bill tried to talk to you or even touch you, but you would simply ignore him giving him the silent treatment. you usually didn’t do it, you were always ready to talk things out, but this time he had crossed the line.

his words hurt so bad and made you see him in a different light. he was the person that had to love and make you feel worthy, but now he had become the reason of your overthinking.

one night, after an exhausting day at work where people seemed to get on your nerves more than usual, you went back home.

the house was silent and usually bill would be on the couch waiting for you and trying to talk, but he was nowhere in sight.

you shrugged it off thinking he would’ve been with his brother, so you just walked up the stairs to go to your room.

you opened the door, surprisingly finding him there, laying on the bed. his body was trembling and you could hear sniffles so of course you understood he was crying, but what confused you was the suitcase at the edge of the bed.

you walked to him, your heart aching at the sight. no matter how angry you were, you couldn’t stand seeing him cry.

your hand touched his back, making him jump up at the sudden touch. his eyes locked in yours and he began to cry even harder.

putting your pride away, you just hugged him while sighing, kissing his forehead. “it’s okay.” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“i’m sorry…i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean what i said, i was just angry.” he sobbed in your shoulder, completely broken. you nodded pressing your lips together.

“i know, i’m sorry too. we argued for a stupid thing.” you put a lock of his hair behind his ear, stroking his cheek. he smiled softly.

“what’s up with the suitcase though?” you asked pointing at it.

“y-you know my ex used to not talk to me and leave for days before deciding to come back s-so i thought you were going to do the same thing.” bill looked down at his hands while playing with his rings as he said that.

you shook your head frantically, taking his hands in yours and holding them tightly, “i would never do that. i’m sorry that i even made you think about it. i was just angry and i reacted like a kid. i promised i won’t do that anymore, okay? next time, we communicate in a calm way.” you wiped his tears away.

bill nodded at you words, his cheeks pressing against the palm of your hand as he closed his eyes.

suddenly, you started tickling him knowing how much he suffered it, and he started laughing.

“stop! baby stop!” he laughed while trying to take your wrists. you did it some more before he blocked you, getting on top of you.

“i only want to see you smile.” you whispered before biting your lower lip.

bill looked at you with pure, genuine love in his eyes before pressing his lips against yours passionately.

you know what happened next.

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #writing #fandom #fanfic #bill kaulitz #masterlist #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz fluff #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel bill kaulitz

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asherraccoon · 20 days

Text

Thinking- QPR Radioapple- hurt/comfort- Requested by Anonymous

Alastor stared silently out over the balcony of his radio tower. His arms rested on the railing, one leg crossed behind the other, the light breeze brushing against his hair and face. He was thinking. Thinking about a lot. His deal with Lilith, the future of the hotel, his future with Lucifer and Charlie, the exterminations, everything. It was exhausting.

The deer demon gazed over Pentagram City, sighing softly. His ear twitched as he heard a noise behind him. The sound of a door opening and closing followed by footsteps. He could recognize who it was just by the sound of his steps. He didn’t turn to face him, however.

“Hey,” Lucifer said softly, leaning on the railing next to Alastor.

“Hey,” Alastor replied dryly.

They both stood in silence for a good few minutes before Lucifer spoke up.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind lately. Haven’t you?” The blonde said, looking over at Alastor.

Alastor didn’t respond, though his smile faltered. His eyes lowered slightly, though they remained on Pride’s cityscape.

Lucifer took that as a yes. He looked back out over the city. “Everything’s going to be fine, y’know?” He said with a soft smile.

“How can you be so sure?” Alastor asked. His ears lowered. “I’m worried, Lucifer…”

“What is it you’re worried about?” Lucifer asked, returning his gaze to Alastor. “You can talk to me, Al,”

Alastor shook his head and dropped his eyes to the railing he leaned on. “Just… everything,” he said, almost breathlessly. “There’s just… so much going on in my head that it almost feels like static,” He said, moving his hands up to his head and leaning on them. “It’s stressful,” he whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about my deal, and the exterminations, and my future with you…” he looked at Lucifer. “It’s… scary…”

Lucifer listened silently. “I get it,” he said when Alastor finished talking. “Sometimes your head just decides to feed you all of these worrying and stressful thoughts and ideas that you never asked for,” he sighed, resting his head on his hand. “I’ve had that happen more times than I can count,”

Alastor listened to Lucifer attentively.

“But y’know,” Lucifer continued. “It’s usually just your head making things seem like bigger deals than they really are,” he pointed to his own head. “And in the end, those things don’t matter all that much,”

Alastor sighed. “But what if they do end up being big deals? What if I’m supposed to worry about those things?” he asked. “Like the exterminations, shouldn’t I be worried about that?”

Lucifer shook his head. “Al, we defeated the exterminators months ago, remember?” he said. “We won’t have to worry about them for a long time,”

“But-” Alastor tried to argue.

“No,” Lucifer interrupted. “You’ve gotta stop letting your head get the best of you,” he said. “And I know damn well that it’s easier said than done,” the angel used his magic and summoned a pack of cigarettes. He offered it to Alastor. “But it’s possible. Just takes some time,”

Alastor took one of the cigarettes and put it in his mouth before lighting it with his magic.

Lucifer sighed, fidgeting with the lid of the box. “Sometimes all you need is a break, and that’ll be enough to calm down your thoughts,” he looked out over the city again.

Alastor took a drag of the cig and blew it out, watching the breeze blow the smoke away and right into Lucifer’s face, who coughed and waved his hand at the smoke. Alastor let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Lucifer said, laughing a little.

Alastor offered the cig to Lucifer.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not he should take it. After a couple seconds, he took it from Alastor’s hand and took a drag before handing it back to the deer.

The two stood in silence for a bit, sharing the cigarette and only exchanging words every now and then. After a while, Alastor spoke up.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight,” The deer said, looking up at Hell’s red moon.

Lucifer hummed and smiled, looking up at the moon as well. “Yeah,” He looked at Alastor, who was already looking back at him. “It does,”

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor x lucifer #duckiedeer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #appleradio #qpr #qpr radioapple

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twopoppies · 8 months

Note

Obviously I’m not saying they’re not together just because of them not spending the birthday together but it just adds to the rest. I’m sorry if I “tire you” or “seem 12” but if my boyfriend/girlfriend turned 30 I would enjoy to be with them but hey! that’s me. (Your response and the reply under it is why everyone is tired of this fandom btw! The fact that I asked something completely valid and wasn’t even attacking you and yet you reacted like I was.. just says a lot. You’re all so blinded by this ship that if someone says something that interferes with your beliefs, you get aggressive. It’s not healthy!)

1. How would I know you’re not saying they’re not together just because of the birthday? That’s literally all you said in your message.

2. How do either of us know where Harry or Louis were on Harry’s birthday? How do we know whether or not Harry celebrated his birthday with certain people on a different day? I’m not saying they were together, but we don’t know, so it’s not a detail I use to make a definite decision.

3. If you think your ask where you weren’t “attacking me” is the only ask I get like that in a day full of asks that clearly are attacking me, you’re sorely mistaken. If you saw the state of my inbox on any given day, you’d understand why a question like yours is tiring. If you want to make sure you’re understood, consider the context and the bigger picture of what larries deal with. You act like my irritation is so unexpected and out of the blue because you know your intentions, yet you failed to make them clear to me.

4. “Everyone” is tired of this fandom because this fandom has become a steaming pile of shit, in part, because people act without any common sense when they’re hidden anonymously behind a computer screen. I answer hundreds of anons with more patience than they deserve. I highly doubt people are tired of this fandom because I occasionally get frustrated.

5. “You’re all so blinded by this ship” tells me all I need to know about how friendly your intentions were. I’ve been very clear about where I stand with my thoughts about their relationship. And I’m not being “aggressive” because you’re “interfering with my beliefs.” I’m irritated because the way your question was worded makes it sound like yet another thoughtless, childish comment and I do occasionally get tired of dealing with people who send me messages like that. If you send me a single sentence about a volatile topic, don’t expect me to think you’re looking for a deep discussion.

In reference to this.

#honestly some of you are exhausting

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xxvalkyriesxx · 10 days

Text

Nessian Week | Day Four | AU

AU - Modern AU

Read on AO3 or below

@nessianweek

Summary: Tonight is the biggest event of year in Velaris - Helions' Halloween Hysteria. It's Nesta's third one and this year she's determined to bring home the best dress award along side her long-term boyfriend, Cassian. Will they woe over the crowd to win?

AN: This was a lot of fun to write! It may not be the best work I've posted, but I wanted to do something fun for this day! This is the fic I made costume poll for (can be found here). Did your favorite costume win? Banner made by me via Canva.

Snippet:

“Nesta! Oh my gosh you’re literally beaming!” A reporter said as Cassian and Nesta reached the doors of the museum.

“Thank you, you’re very beautiful tonight.” Nesta watched the young woman blush with a sheepish smile.

“So what can you do with a broken heart?” The reporter asked.

Nesta peered over to Cassian who stood off to the side, letting her have this moment.

“Well, believe it or not, that was Cassian and I’s motto in our season. We were both dealing with pretty bad heart breaks that year. Somehow we made it through everything.”

The reporter brightened. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry that you both were going through it. But I guess the universe wanted the two of you together!”

Nesta grabbed Cassian’s hand, kissing his knuckles gently.

“Babe, are you ready?” Nesta called out from the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend. Adjusting the white coat in the full length mirror, her matching white two-piece set glittering in the light. Rarely had Nesta kept her hair down, but for the sake of her costume, and to be a winner tonight, she did it.

Reaching over, she held the reference photo in front of her. Her hair wasn’t blonde and it was long, but it would make do. The classic red lipstick looked perfect on her. The afternoon sun shined on the Mirrorball Trophy that was on a nearby shelf. If we could win DWTS, we can do this.

The bathroom door opened. “Well, my lady, I’m here at last.”

Cassian Night walked into their bedroom, his black tailcoat and matching black tophat. He lifted the hat off his head, bowing in a smooth motion. A breath left her as she stared at her old dance partner. They met on Dancing with the Stars three years ago with Cassian being the MVP of the NFL that year. They ended up winning that season, making Nesta’s first win on the show. A few months later they launched their relationship.

Nesta couldn’t fight the grin that appeared on her face. Cassian leant down, kissing the top of her hand.

“Well, Sweetheart. Are you ready?”

“Ready to beat my sisters and finally win this year?” Nesta asked.

“Fuck yeah.” She smirked, answering her own question.

Cassian smirked back. “Let’s win this, Sweetheart.”

It was the biggest event of the year in the city. Bigger than the solstices parties and equinoxes holidays combined. Bigger than any Super Bowl or dancing event.

Tonight was the annual event of the year: Helion’s Halloween Hysteria.

Helion Day held this event on Halloween every year for the past fifteen years. It was a fabulous party with an insane guest list, rivalering the Met Gala. With social media being at everyone’s fingertips, Helion’s event was not only bigger, but was more anticipated. But unlike the Met Gala, there was an official poll that was made the second the celebrities appeared on the carpet and would be finalized by the time dinner was over.

The winner (or winners if they were a couple) would win the best dressed with receiving a plaque and proceeds from the night’s event would be donated to the winner’s chosen charity.

Nesta’s first HHH (as most of her friends and sisters referred to it as) was two years ago, and each year Nesta and Cassian hadn’t won. Their first couple’s costume, to put it simply, was irrelevant. They dressed as a winged hero and a witch, and unfortunately Nesta found out very quickly how relevant your costume needed to be in order to win. Cassian also had failed to incline that their costumes needed to be more of a pop culture reference even to be voted for.

Then last year they showed up as Barbie and Ken…along with everyone else. Her youngest sister won with her husband being Barbenheimer genderbent. Everyone lost it at Rhysand’s blonde hair. Meanwhile, Nesta lost her appetite having to bear witness to that monstrosity.

The prize wasn’t the reason why Nesta wanted to win. Donating to her and Cassian’s charity of choice meant a lot, but that wasn’t the sole reason why she wanted to win. Nesta and her younger sisters have always been competitive with one another.

Feyre won last year, but the year before Elain won with Emerie, one of Nesta’s best friends, and her sister’s long term girlfriend. That year they came as Princess Bubblegum and Marciline the Vampire Queen from Adventure Time.

Cassian’s hand held Nesta’s as the car reached the Velaris Museum of Art, the traffic slow from all of the celebrities appearing. This particular event was shared between Helion and Nesta’s brother-in-law, Rhysand as he offered the city’s Museum and was usually on the board.

Board members typically changed year in and year out. However Rhysand and Helion were the only two that were continuously on. This year however, Nesta received the nomination to be on the board. She contributed to the decorations, guest lists, and overall design of the event.

From inside, Nesta saw the whole place decorated with classic Halloween decorations like ghosts, ghouls, zombies, and witches. Black bushes lined the blood “soaked” carpet keeping the reporters and paparazzi a good distance from the celebrities.

Cameras flashed, famous people from everywhere lining the steps, posing for pictures, speaking with reporters. From the otherside, Nesta saw the everyday people of the city and fans alike line the streets watching, screaming, probably going live on Tik Tok.

“Ready to win this, Sweetheart?” Cassian asked as the car stopped in the drop-off zone.

Their driver wrapped out of the front, going to their door. She nodded, her feet kicking slightly from excitement. Cassian gestured to the driver to open the passenger side door. Noise erupted as Cassian came out. He waved at everyone before turning around, offering his hand to Nesta. She took it as she stepped out of the vehicle hearing the crowd collectively gasp and scream.

The two practiced for two weeks how Travis carried Taylor on the stage as Cassian pulled her into his arms. Dramatically she posed herself similar to how Taylor was, her microphone in hand.

She kept her eyes closed as Cassian carried her up the steps. He would jokingly tell her to wake up as he walked the carpet. She heard paparazzi call out her name, begging for her to open her eyes. In spite, she kept them closed. Not once in her career she had listened to what random men wanted her to do, and she wasn’t going to start here.

As Cassian got to the first landing, he gently put Nesta on her feet. She playfully swayed with tiredness, having Cassian catch her in a dramatic dip. The crowd gasped and screamed. Millions of cameras were clicking now.

Nesta recognized the look in her boyfriend’s eyes. It mirrored her own from earlier. They were equally matched as he too was extremely competitive with his family and friends. Pulling Nesta back on her feet, she started greeting the nearby people around them. She carried her bejeweled microphone with her, as the two posed together. Her gaze drifted up and down the carpet, seeing people from all over the world.

“Nesta!” Familiar voices called out to her. She couldn’t help but drop her jaw at Elain. She was in a pink gown that must have cost millions as the sheer size made her sister look like the most elegant pink cloud. With a high lace necklace embedded with flowers, a corset back, and a chapel train, Nesta ran through her mind what her sister could be. She noticed Elain carried a diamond scepter in hand and a matching giant crown on her head.

Her sister was beautiful. Fuck.

Her sister was a witch. Double fuck.

Of course she’s Glinda the Good. Nesta thought with a mental roll of her eyes.

“Glinda.” Nesta curtseyed to Elain.

“Ms. Swift.” Elain spoke with elegance, curtseying back.

The two broke out into smiles before gently hugging one another.

“Why am I not surprised that my best friend shows up as her favorite person in the world.” Emerie appeared then. Her skin was painted green as she wore a black gown and the most beautiful witch’s hat. She carried a broom that resembled the one from the original movie.

“Don’t be so envious, Em.” Nesta playfully joked.

Emerie rolled her eyes. “Love you too, Nes.”

The two hugged as Cassian turned from the reporters smiling at them.

“Oh why isn’t it Glinda of the South and Elphie from the East.”

Emerie gave Cassian a deadpan glance. He elbowed her gently.

“Take a joke, Em.”

The two smiled before bumping fists. Cassian and Emerie were the only two out of their friend group that were professional athletes. There was some kind of a bro code between them. Nesta and Elain liked to call it the “ball-code” as their partners played in football and soccer.

Emerie pulled back, resting a hand comfortably on Elain’s waist. Elain laid her head on her shoulder. Emerie whispered into her ear, making her sister’s face flush pink, matching her outfit. She made a quiet outburst, but Emerie just grabbed her neck and kissed her softly. Elain and Emerie knew each other for years as Nesta met Emerie during her time at UCLA. Emerie was a part of the national women’s soccer team and Elain was a cooking influencer.

Cassian mumbled something about getting a room, followed by Nesta smacking his arm. Seeing her sister and her best friend made her heart swell. Nesta leaned into Cassian admiring the two. But their moment was short lived when another familiar voice called out to them.

“Oh fuck, you guys are so perfect!”

Nesta and Elain peered down to see their youngest sister, Feyre. She was dressed in all gold with a halo sun crown on her head.

“Are you an angel?”

“No, I think she’s a star?” Is this the pop culture reference I don’t know about?

“I’m actually the sun.” Feyre said proudly.

Nesta couldn’t hide the wince that flashed from her face. She loved her baby sister dearly, but science was not her best friend. If Nesta thought all of their outfits were beautiful, Feyre’s was not only radiant, but a show stopper too. While Nesta and Elain tend to dress more modestly, Feyre was all about showing much of her body. Her dress was gold, short, and styled to look wet. Her golden heels made her taller than Nesta.

“The sun? Are you trying to attract Helion and his wife?” Nesta questioned.

Feyre laughed. “Who knows what the night will bring.”

“Darling?” Rhysand called out as he climbed the steps to them.

In a similar style, Rhysand’s look also was styled wet, but while Feyre was gold, Rhysand was silver. His shirt was cut low showing his oiled up skin. Nesta would be lying if she denied throwing up in her mouth. She blocked her eyes as nearby camera flashes reflected off the literal diamonds and pearls all over his shirt.

Rhysand Night, the literal archetype for every billionaire romance in the world. He ran one of the biggest corporations known to man. It was somehow bigger than Amazon, although the two were always neck to neck with their numbers.

Feyre met Rhysand at a work conference in a hotel in D.C. Well Rhys was there for work, Feyre was at her gallery. He apparently saw her one time and that’s all it took. Swept her off her feet right there and then.

“My my, little brother what are you, the moon?!” Cassian and Rhysand greeted one another.

“Better than what you’re wearing. Really, Kelce?” Rhysand asked, eyeing the costume up and down.

“Better than the freaking moon! Next you’re gonna tell me that my rising sign is how I’ll die.”

“Cassian, that's not how rising signs work. Both Rhysand and I have explained this to you multiple times.” Nesta sighed.

Rhysand sent her an apologetic look. The two of them hadn’t seen eye to eye for a long time, however there were moments here and there where they did agree.

“You look beautiful, Nesta.”

“You look…well, Rhysand.”

“It’s Rhys, we’re family.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Rhys.”

Rhysand pulled Feyre into a gentle kiss that regrettably became a bit much. Nesta spun around not wanting to see her baby sister get her soul sucked for the billionth time.

Ushers from the event advise the whole family to keep moving up the steps. Nesta and Cassian greeted other guests and reporters. They posed for several photos including some with a blush brush Nesta made Cassian have in his pocket. Needless to say, if you knew, you knew.

“Nesta! Oh my gosh you’re literally beaming!” A reporter said as Cassian and Nesta reached the doors of the museum.

“Thank you, you’re very beautiful tonight.” Nesta watched the young woman blush with a sheepish smile.

“So what can you do with a broken heart?” The reporter asked.

Nesta peered over to Cassian who stood off to the side, letting her have this moment.

“Well, believe it or not, that was Cassian and I’s motto in our season. We were both dealing with pretty bad heart breaks that year. Somehow we made it through everything.”

The reporter brightened. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry that you both were going through it. But I guess the universe wanted the two of you together!”

Nesta grabbed Cassian’s hand, kissing his knuckles gently.

“All along there was an invisible string.”

Cassian laughed, pulling her into his arms. “You’re ridiculous.”

They kissed quickly before saying goodbye, entering the museum.

The whole Archeron and Night family sat at a round table together. The tables were decorated with black and gold table cloths with a black roses, crow feathers, and skulls as the centerpieces. The plates were black and gold with matching silverware. A red menu was placed on each plate regarding mocktails and cocktails. Everyone’s dinner order was placed ahead.

Almost everyone was there, however there were two seats empty between Nesta and Feyre. Nesta titled her head as her white booties clicked against the marble floor.

“Where’s Azriel and Gwyn?” Nesta asked, turning to her sister.

Feyre pulled out her phone. “Az texted the group a minute ago. They’re arriving now.”

“I wonder what made them so late?” Elain pondered as she drank her glass.

Nesta and Emerie gave each other a knowing look. Gwyn Berdara was their best friend, the final part of their trio. She was always good at arriving on time, however since she started dating Azriel, she’s shown up late a few times. And every time there were a few hickies on both parties.

“Wabbits.”

Nesta and Emerie laughed as they both quoted Elmer Fudd. Cassian walked back over, handing Nesta mocktails for them both. They both had their battles with alcohol, however not long after they got together, they both decided they didn’t want to drink anymore.

She mumbled a thank you as he kissed her head before sitting down.

“They’re still not here?” Cassian asked, gesturing to the empty seats.

“Didn’t you know it’s wabbit season?” Feyre amused with mischief in her smile.

Cassian sighed. “God above those two.”

“Look who decided to join us after all.” Rhys nodded over to the double doors that led into the private room they were in.

Everyone swung their head around and collectively gasped at the same time. Nesta and Cassian both shared a look and cursed. Standing in the doorway was indeed Azriel and Gwyn, however Gwyn was dressed up as Ladypool and Azriel as Wolverine. Their costumes were accurate to the exact detail as they made their way to the table.

“Hello!” Gwyn sweetly said, a little breathless.

“Sorry, we’re late. Traffic and all.” Azriel said, taking a sip of the nearby water glass.

“Is that what we're calling it now?” Rhys' smile matched Feyre’s looking at the late arrivals.

Azriel gave his brother a hard look. Rhys inclined his head before backing off.

“How long did it take you guys to get into the costumes?” Elain asked.

“Too long. Azriel and I went to the premiere and decided then this is what we should wear. However no one told us how hard it is to take this on and off.” Gwyn adjusted in her seat.

“Well regardless, you look amazing.” Emerie said.

“I’m stealing Rosaline to be my head stylist next.”

“Absolutely not, Nesta Anne.” Gwyn warned.

Nesta made a face at the mention of her middle name.

Gwyn was the other person Nesta met at UCLA. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta had been inseparable since they met in an English class. Gwyn worked in musical theater for the longest time, but she ended up switching careers to a solo artist two years ago. Azriel Night was one of the most famous music producers in the world. He also happened to be the eldest brother of the Night brothers. He had more awards in general than anyone else in the family. Gwyn worked with Azriel on her first solo album, and the rest was history.

“Oh good, all of the Nights and Archerons are all finally here.” A smooth voice said behind Nesta.

They swirled around to see Helion dressed as…well actually what the fuck was he wearing?

“I’m a chess piece, Nesta, please catch up.” Helion gestured to her, making Nesta flush.

Helion wore a crown that resembled a king chess piece on his head in black. His suit was unbuttoned, showcasing the golden glitter that decorated his abs.

“And my queen.” Helion beckoned his wife, Autumn over. Helion was a fashion designer that had several stores located around the world. Autumn was one of his models. She was his inspiration for almost every piece in his shows.

Nesta could tell that the work on their costumes were just divine. Autumn wore a matching chess piece but as a queen piece instead. Her dress was also black with gold accents among the v-line of the dress. She wore a queen chess piece crown on her head. Her ginger hair was neatly done in a bun.

“Good luck to everyone at tonight’s competition. The results will be in shortly after dinner!” Helion said as he and Autumn traveled to the next table, greeting more guests.

The three Archeron sisters instantly looked at one another, a rivaling glare in their eyes.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Nesta.” Feyre said, drinking her wine.

“I didn’t say anything, Feyre.” Nesta sneered.

“You two should bond over losing again, it’s been awhile.” Elain mumbled, sipping her wine.

As the sisters began to bicker with one another, the other half of the table sat and spoke quietly to themselves. They’ve all learned not to get involved in a spat between the Archeron sisters. Fighting a bear would be easier than trying to calm down the situation the siblings were in. Rhysand had tried one time, and all three Archeron sisters had teamed up against him. That was the one and only time she had seen him fluster like that.

It made her day.

She rolled her eyes as her younger sisters stuck out their tongues while dinner was served. The aroma of wagyu steak, whole lobsters, pastas, salads, quinoa dishes flowed throughout their table. Cassian took pieces of his lobster, placing them on Nesta’s dish. Nesta did the same with her steak. She took a bite out of the lobster and nearly moaned. Helion’s events were simply the best for everything.

Cassian leaned over, whispering in her ear. “Maybe I should dress like a lobster to get you to moan like that.”

Without missing a beat Nesta replied. “I have a big mallet for cracking big ass lobsters, so I’ll be fine.”

“I love it when you’re violent.” He chuckled, kissing her behind her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

Nesta looked around at the nearby tables, seeing Lucien Vanserra with his boyfriend and girlfriend, Juriuan General and Vassa Queen. The three formed the band Exiles years ago. They’ve even worked with Gwyn and Azriel on a few songs.They were dressed as the popular meme, distracted boyfriend. However it of course had an interesting spin as the meme had two women alongside a man. It seemed that Vassa played the girlfriend while Jurian was the distracted boyfriend, and Lucien was the “other woman”.

Nesta glanced over to a closer table where Eris Vanserra sat between his husband and wife, Kallis and Viviane Winter. From what she heard down the vine from Feyre was that Kallis and Viviane had opened their relationship and somehow Eris fell into their rhythm several years ago. All three of them were college professors at the University of Velaris, however all three came from old money families. They were all disowned the night before their wedding, however they couldn’t be happier at that moment. They were dressed as Barbie, Alan, and Ken. Along their table was Morrigan Night and Vivane’s sister, Liliane. The two were dressed as Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. Morrigan was Rhys’ cousin hence why they had the same surname.

Cassian rested his hand on Nesta’s thigh, drawing lazy circles with his thumb. She sighed into his touch, smiling softly.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” Cassian asked.

Nesta flushed, resting her face against Cassian’s shoulder so she wasn’t facing the table. Compliments were said and done, but when they came from Cassian, she acted like a teenage girl. She felt him chuckle as he kissed her hair.

The lights flashed signaling that the results were in. Nesta sat up, her hand resting on Cassian’s. Helion walked onto the stage, greeting everyone. “Happy Halloween everyone!”

“Now I know you’re dying to see the results of this year’s HHH winner, but I wanted to thank everyone who brought this event back for another year. Can we have a moment for our board members please.”

Nesta and Rhys were the only ones to stand at their table. Eris and Vassa also stood along with several other people scattered across the room. Everyone cheered and applauded them. Cassian kissed Nesta’s knuckles, mirroring her move from earlier. She smiled sheepishly before sitting back down.

The drumroll started as Helion opened the envelope where the results were in.

“Our best dressed goes to…”

Cassian’s hand squeezed her’s. This was it. Their win.

“..The winner is…” Helion laughed.

“The winner is my wife and I.”

The room gasped collectively as Autumn made her way up the steps laughing. She kissed her husband before speaking into the microphone.

“If you know how this works, then you know even if Helion and I get the most votes we can then pick the winner ourselves. Since this is his event, Helion wanted to be a part of the fun, but he’s already won with this event being a success.”

“This happened a few years ago so my beautiful Autumn came up with a perfect plan to create an even field in all of this. We’ve already decided the winner before dinner was served. So Autumn, please find our winners.”

The queen glided down the steps as she made her way through the room. Nesta saw Cassian winced just slightly as her nails dug into his. The anxiety of outcome coursing through her body.

Autumn made her way through the tables until she ended up at theirs. The whole table was stunned as she made her way around until she stood next to Nesta. The dancer was about to shoot to her feet when Autumn’s hand landed on Gwyn’s shoulder.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” It was out before she could stop herself.

Gwyn giggled, hugging Nesta as she hugged her back. “I’m for sure stealing your stylist, Gwyn.”

“If you’re using her we’re going to HHH together next year.” Gwyn mused.

The entire table laughed as Gwyn and Azriel walked to the stage, hand in hand.

Nesta pouted, crossing her arms playfully. It sucked to lose, but still seeing one of her best friends happy and in love made Nesta feel so much joy. Nesta clapped for her family that won along with Cassian. He kissed her softly before whispering in her ear.

“Next year, for sure.”

As everyone said good night, Nesta wanted to go home and rest. Events like this drained a lot of her social battery. Cassian was more than happy to agree as he scooped her up into his arms before heading into their car. They shared a small kiss as they buckled into their seats.

“Win or lose, Sweetheart, we never go out of style.”

Nesta tried not to sing along to the song as it played quietly in the car. She took his hand into her’s.

“I’ve decided that for next year we’re going back to basics, Cassian.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think you would make an excellent Mr. Darcy.”

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