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andydrysdalerogers · 9 months

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Yours Submissively ~ Masquerade

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Pamper

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Bucky drove the SUV through the street of Manhattan with ease. Steve never let go of Belle’s hand until they reached the main entrance of the venue. Belle sucked her breath in until Steve squeezed her hand. “I promised, you don’t have to walk with the cameras. Bucky is going to take you through the service entrance, and I’ll meet you there.” He lifted her hand to kiss the knuckles. “I’ll see you inside.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Steve.” She scooted away from the door, and he exited to a lot of flashes. Bucky quickly closed the door so no one would see her. He climbed back in and drove to the back of the building.

“Can I ask why you are so scared?”

“My father valued our privacy. Even if he had a high tense job, he wanted me to be as normal as possible.”

“Why would he be concerned if you were in the spotlight?”

“Dunno.” She shrugged. “He never explained. He never let me into the work part of his life.”

Bucky parked and opened Belle’s door and helped her out. “Well, if anything, I’ll protect you.”

“Thanks Bucky. James… hmmm.” She looked down.

“Ok, you held back on the ramble. What?” He said as he pushed the button for the elevator.

“I don’t know which one I like better.”

“Bucky, please. James means I’m in trouble,” he said with a laugh.

“Ok, noted. James all the time then,” she said with a smirk.

“You are perfect for Steve. Smartass,” he said with a grumble.

Belle giggled as the elevator reached the floor they needed to be on. Steve was waiting. “Thanks Buck.”

“Any time Cap.” Bucky went back down.

Steve placed Belle’s hand in the crook of his arm and started to guide her through the venue. A question was bothering Belle and she blurted out, “Why doesn’t Bucky ever join these events if he is a former Avenger as well?”

Steve thought for a moment. “He has the mentality that people still see him as … not the good guy. He would rather remain in the shadows.”

“But he’s a hero.”

“Some people don’t see that.”

“Well, some people are morons.” Belle rolled her eyes as they approached the hosts of the evening. To which Belle had forgotten to ask who they were before arriving. Had she, maybe she wouldn’t be completely stunned and awkward in front of her boss.

“Steve! Good to see you…” Tony trailed off as he noticed Belle on his arm. Pepper nudged him to bring him back. “Belle, what a surprise.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Stark, it's nice to see you again.” Belle could tell she was red all over, unsure of how to act in front of her employers.

“Belle, please, call me Pepper.” She stepped in, unsure as to why her husband was reacting the way he was. “You look gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.”

“Thank you Mrs…. I mean Pepper.” Belle fidgeted with her dress. “I was told not to be formal and…”

“It’s perfect. Have you ever played in a casino?” Pepper handed Belle a glass of champagne.

“An actual one? No. Just among friends.”

“Well, have fun with the tables. Blackjack, craps, roulette, Texas hold ‘em. Let me get you your chips for the evening.” She handed her and Steve a rack of chips each, $100 dollar chips. “Have fun.”

“Thank you Pepper,” Steve said. “Tony,” he nodded. He took the rack from Belle and held her hand. “What would you like to play first?”

“Blackjack,” she responded. He led her to a table and placed the chips in front of her seat. “I’m headed to the hold ‘em table. He kissed her forehead, come find me when you’re done.”

“Ok.” Belle was again reminding herself to breathe. She turned to the table and played. Blackjack is easy, get to 21 and hope the dealer bust. She played a few hands with the table, mostly men who gave her lustful looks. She started to get uncomfortable, so she racked her winnings and headed to find Steve.

Steve took a seat at a table with Tony following him. “Rogers, what are you playing at?” he said quietly.

“No idea what you are talking about. Stark.”

“Isabella. Why is she here?”

“I asked her. She’s 22, she can be here.”

“No, I mean, are you dating her?”

“I’m trying to. What is your problem? She is a sweet girl.”

Tony didn’t know what to say. “Just, take care of her. I like her, don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“I care about her too Tony. Promise, nothing is going to happen unless she wants it to happen.” Steve glanced at him. “Can we play cards now?”

Belle found Steve, seated at a table with Tony, Sam, and a couple of others she didn’t know. There was a seat across from Steve open. “Is this seat taken?” she asked sweetly.

Tony looked at her. “Do you know how to play Belle?”

“A little,” she said with a small smile.

Tony and Sam laughed. “Then by all means, take a seat. We can teach you.”

Belle settled and learned the bets. She was dealt in on the next hand.

Steve watched, not saying a word as he studied her. She lifted her cards on the corner, inspecting them, furrowing her brow. She studied the calls made on the table. She betted the blind and the dealer burned the first card and set down the flop, A of diamonds, 8 of clubs, 3 of hearts. Steve’s own hand was good, two 3, of diamond and spades. Three of a kind. He raised the bet on the table. “$1000,” he said.

Tony, Sam and the two other men folded their hands. Belle flicked her eyes at him and looked at her cards and chewed the corner of her mouth. She called and they saw the fourth card, the turn. A Q of diamonds. Her eyes lit up for a fraction of a second before she called, placing no bet. Steve’s hand was still good so raised with the same bet. “$1000,” he said, sliding the chips in.

“Call,” she said confidently. The final card was placed, the river, a 5 of spades. Steve kept his face still, not giving any tells. He watched Belle chew the side of her mouth again and place a bet. “$2000,” she said, but not sounding confident. Steve knew he had her, she was bluffing her way out of the hand. “Call,” he said, sliding his chips in. She turned over her hand, holding an 8 of heart and a Q of spades.

“Oof, sweetheart,” as he turned over his tripe 3s. “Maybe next time,” as the dealer slide the chips to Steve. He started to stack them, smirking to himself. He had her tells. And he would win every time.

They played the table. She was good, taking a few hands when Steve folded out. Soon it was just the two of them playing, with Tony, Sam, Natasha, Pepper, and others watching. Their chip counts were about even. Pepper called out, “we have to make this the last hand so we can close out the evening.”

Belle nodded. The dealer handed out the cards and Steve looked. Pocket 10s. Perfect. He raised the bet. “$10,000,” he said.

“Call,” she said, confidently. Once again, the dealer burned the top card and put down the flop, 10 of clubs, Q of diamonds, 4 of hearts. Steve watched Belle as she counted out some chips. “$15,000,” she said with conviction. She raised her chin to see if Steve would challenge her. He showed no emotion. He could see that she had a hand but not a strong one. He assumed she hit something with the 4. “Call,” he said.

The dealer put down the turn card down, another Q, this time of spades. He watched as Belle subtly chewed the side of her mouth again. She hit two pair, he thought to himself. His tripes were still the better hand with the pair of Qs. She called, just tapping the table, not saying a word. “$20,000,” he said counting out the chips.

Belle furrowed her brow as if she hoped that he had nothing. “Call,” she replied, pushing in half of her chips. The dealer placed the river card, a 9 of diamonds. Steve was elated. His full house stood. As much as he wanted Belle to be happy, it was too easy. He pushed his chips in, “All In.” Belle chewed her lip again and he knew he had her. “Call,” she said. “You first, Mr. Rogers,” indicating to show his hand first.

“Full house, sweetheart,” showing his tripe 10s and the pair of queens. Belle looked down, defeat starting to show on her face. “I only have two pair,” as she flipped her cards over. Steve opened his mouth to say something until he noticed, two queens in her hand. He looked at the table. The two Q on the table stood out.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Belle said with confidence. “I meant, 4 of a kind. I believe my ladies win,” she said with a twinkle as the group around them started to laugh.

“Lady wins,” the dealer declares as he pushed the chips towards Belle. Pepper and Natasha swarm her in congratulations as Sam and Tony come over to Steve, who was still in shock. Belle turned her head towards Steve and smirked before speaking with the ladies.

“She took you,” Sam said, clapping his back.

“I don’t even know how she did that. I had her tells.” Steve shook his head. He was simmering, turned on by how she played him.

As the crowd gathers, Steve has Belle in front of him. He leans down and whispered, “you played me.” She nodded. “Do you know how turned on I am right now?” She shook her head. “I’ll show you later,” he whispered with a ghost of his lips on her neck.

Pepper spoke to the crowd, but Belle was focused on Steve. His hands slipped around her waist and his thumb ran across her dress. She was pretty sure her skin was on fire by now, but she didn’t want to move and break the spell. He whispered into her ear again, “tell me how you did it?”

“You shouldn’t take someone’s poker skills at face value,” she whispered. “I told you I played poker, but you accepted my explanation without so much as a question.”

“Your students would never be able to lie to you, you know that” he replied with a chuckle.

“I know. Which is why sociology is a recommended course. You learn to read people.” She clapped as Pepper announced the prizes.

The night came to an end and Steve escorted Belle to the service elevator. Bucky was waiting at the car, and he took through the night back to the penthouse. When they arrived, Steve took Belle’s hand and never let go until they got upstairs. She went to move to her room when Steve pulled her back. He kissed her hard. She let him in, loving the sensation of his lips on hers. He went to lift her up and wrap her legs around him. He walked them back to her room.

Once there, he carefully unzipped her dress and let the fabric flow down and pool at her feet. He stepped back to help her from the pile but froze when he saw the corset and garters on her body. “Baby, you look amazing.”

Belle grew needy the longer he stared. “Steve, please.”

Steve stepped closer and went around to her back. He kissed her shoulders and collar bone as he unhooked the front of the corset. It fell away with the last clasp undone and she was left in her heels, garters and panties. Steve groaned at the garters, pulling him back to the 40’s.

He took her hand and led her to sit on the bed. He kneeled in front of her, removed her shoes and unhooked each garter from the thigh highs she had one. Each one snapped, making Belle jump slightly but Steve’s fingers relaxed her. He grasped the lacy top of the left stocking and slowly rolled them down. He kissed her leg as more and more skin was exposed. He repeated the process on the other side before removing the belt entirely.

“I’m really glad you didn’t show me this, Isabella, we really wouldn’t have made it out the door.” He leaned down to kiss her and then kissed down her body as he pulled her panties down at the same time. He got to the apex of her thighs. “May I?”

Belle wasn’t sure what he wanted but she breathed yes, and he kissed gently before running his tongue through her folds. She moaned, the sensation setting her body on fire. Her moans grew louder and louder the more Steve worked her body. She went to touch his hair and he stopped. He grabbed her hands and placed them above her head. “Move and I stop, got it?”

Her first lesson in this life. She nodded. “I need words Isabella.”

“I won’t move them. Please Steve.”

He smiled and went back to works, flicking his tongue on her clit, using his fingers to open her up. She came with a cry of his name. He licked his fingers clean before pulling her to the edge of the bed. He removed his clothes and rolled on a condom. “This is going to be hard and fast.” All he could hear was her panting before he dove in, thrusting hard in, listening to the cry from her as he bottomed out. He waited a moment before he started to fuck her with every fiber of his being.

Belle was lost, the amount of pleasure she was receiving overwhelming her. She cried and moaned, relishing in the fullness she felt. Steve could feel her tightening. “Are you almost there, sweetheart?”

She cried out again as the coil tighten more and more. Steve groaned and angled himself to hit a different spot. That’s what did it. He felt her let go with a wail and felt her squeeze his cock, sending him to his edge. He slowed, riding the highs out before gently pulling away. He went to her bathroom to get a towel for her. He cleaned her up and got her under the covers. She was asleep from the amount of pleasure she had received. Steve pulled up his boxers and grabbed the rest of his clothes. He checked her once more before heading to his room.

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@jennmurawski13-writes

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@amiquette

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #yours submissively #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers x OFC #Bucky barnes #chris evans #mcu fanfiction #Steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #chris evans au #avengers au

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findroleplay · 9 months

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Hi everyone! :) I'm 21+ and looking for someone 21+ for an original vampire-themed MxM roleplay.

I'm very interested in a plot that involves one of the characters being the sire/maker of the other character but I'm also fine with a "normal" vampire x vampire or even vampire x human (maybe as a familiar/servant?) roleplay.

I don't have any concrete plot in mind so I'm hoping we can come up with something together, but I will include a couple of settings I personally "vibe" with (we do not need to use any of them, though! I'm definitely open to hearing whatever setting/plots you might be interested in).

At the moment I do have some interest in world building/creating lore but it doesn't have to be super in depth (although if you have any great ideas I'm definitely here to brainstorm together to add to them!).

I'm fine with smut but it's not a requirement! We can always fade to black if you prefer :)

If you do want to write smut I want to say that I don't enjoy it when characters "behave" a certain way just because they have certain bedroom preferences and I do not want to basically emulate straight gender norms just with two men (that doesn't mean that one of the characters can't be feminine, of course, just that two men in a relationship will relate to each other differently than a man and a woman).

I prefer 3rd person/past tense when writing. I'm not too picky when it comes to length, as long as replies are at least a couple of lines.

I tend to prefer characters that are a little more "mature", most of my human characters tend to be in their late 30s or 40s. (I know vampires don't have to visually look their age but I thought I'd mention here that I don't really enjoy characters that would make good YA novel protagonists or that would fit into a boy band - no offense to people who enjoy characters like that, of course, but I just generally don't find characters like that compelling).

Some "warnings" to consider before engaging with me: 1) I'm not a native speaker and still pretty new to roleplaying but I'll try my best to keep mistakes to a minimum! 2) I'm not always super available due to work and I live in Europe. Depending on the length of our posts I might reply a couple of times per day or once every two days. I will try to at least reply once a week at minimum!

Now, onto the scenarios/"vibes" I had in mind! (Once again, we don't need to use any of them, I just thought I'd try to give you an idea what sort of plots/settings I tend to enjoy):

New Orleans: I just adore how magical and mysterious New Orleans as a city appears to be. I was thinking this could take place in the 1920s or maybe the modern day. I would love to incorporate some other magical/occult things here (maybe our characters have to deal with witchcraft or other supernatural events). Keywords: mardi gras, bayou, French Quarter, night life, religious guilt, attempts to maintain humanity, alienation from society, voodoo, spirits, magical realism, urban fantasy

Mafia: I'm thinking of maybe one character being the boss and the other being his second in command? Keywords: modern day, penthouses, private jets, sleek sportscars, art galleries, casinos, night clubs, opposing powers, rival vampire gangs

18th century aristocracy: Maybe taking place in either Venice or at the French court. Keywords: masquerade balls, opera houses, palace gardens, political intrigues, Paris catacombs, gondolas

Dark Academia: My first idea was for this to take place sometime during the middle/end of the 19th century with our characters as university professors or researchers. Keywords: uncovering of truths, search for knowledge, secret socities, dark cults and the occult, scholars, traditional gothic horror

I prefer to roleplay on Discord but I'm also fine with trying a different method like e-mails or GDocs.

If you're interested please like this post and I will reach out to you :)

#roleplay #rp #oc rp #original rp #fandomless rp #mxn rp #vampire rp

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findyourrp · 9 months

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🧛 Hi everyone! :) I'm 21+ and looking for someone 21+ for an original vampire-themed MxM roleplay. I'm very interested in a plot that involves one of the characters being the sire/maker of the other character but I'm also fine with a "normal" vampire x vampire or even vampire x human (maybe as a familiar/servant?) roleplay.

I'm fine with smut but it's not a requirement! We can always fade to black if you prefer :)

I prefer 3rd person/past tense when writing. I'm not too picky when it comes to length, as long as replies are at least a couple of lines.

Now, onto the scenarios/"vibes" I had in mind! (Once again, we don't need to use any of them, I just thought I'd try to give you an idea what sort of plots/settings I tend to enjoy):

Mafia: I'm thinking of maybe one character being the boss and the other being his second in command? Key words: modern day, penthouses, private jets, sleek sportscars, art galleries, casinos, night clubs, opposing powers, rival vampire gangs

18th century aristocracy: Maybe taking place in either Venice or at the French court. Keywords: masquerade balls, opera houses, palace gardens, political intrigues, Paris catacombs, gondolas

I prefer to roleplay on Discord but I'm also fine with trying a different method like e-mails or GDocs.

If you're interested please like this post and I will reach out to you :)

#rp finder #18+ rp #oc rp #vampire rp #fandomless rp #mxm rp

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jacqueline314 · 11 months

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BN/MHA x Lupinranger Fanfiction AU

hot-pinkI’ve been watching Lupinranger vs Patranger recently, and I enjoyed every episode so far (rn, I’m at ep17) My mind then then thought, “What if Lupinranger was implied in BNHA/MHA?” So that’s what I did. However it isn’t where Lupinranger powers are converted into quirks, it’s more of a merge of two worlds but there will be no Ganglars nor Patrangers & past Lupinrangers. It’s just going to be a story about an OC Phantom Thief stealing back Lupin Collection Pieces from BNHA’s Yakuza, Villains, Gangs, Leagues, and Museums. Meanwhile, there’s a detective and a UA Student chasing after the Phantom Thief. It has been a while since I’ve done some story writing, and now I’m going to give it another shot. I might do some artwork of this when I feel like it.

Pilot

In a world where the majority of people poses a unique ability called a Quirk, there are those who will use their supernatural abilities for good or evil. However, there are a very few number of people who don’t need to rely on a quirk to do get the job done.

Hidden from the public streets, there is an underground Masquerade Casino, being run by a Yakuza Family. This Yakuza in particular are a group of gunslingers who were each rejected by society for having a worthless/useless quirk. Almost every member is highly trained to use a gun by carefully watching and learning from the pro hero Snipe. Even though their level of skill is far from the pro, they are still considered dangerous to the average person.

Blending in among the Yakuza, is a hero in training, infiltrating them to retrieve a stolen piece. Momo Yaoyorozu. A UA Student disguised in a hot-pink color dress with a ribbon wrapped around the waist and tied to a bow at the back. Carries a hand bag over her shoulder. Her hair style is also different, so it’s to make people not recognise what her normal hairstyle looks like. Her new hair has two long bangs that split and go down to the side of her face. Her tied hair is relatively similar but it’s styled in a curved design. And of course, a mask to obscure her facial features. This is a masquerade, after all.

Five days ago, while Momo was working for Majestic, her work study mentor got an unsuspecting visit from a detective named Gorou Ogasawara. He has seen Yaoyorozu’s performance in the school sports fest and license examination. And based on what Majestic told the detective, he finds her as a reliable asset. Even though she’s young, he sees great potential in her.

Detective Gorou offers Momo an opening to a sting operation with him. He informs her about an up coming underground masquerade casino, held by a yakuza. They learned from their sources that they will be selling a prized Jewel that was stolen from a historical museum 5 years ago.

The detective went to Momo for her quirk and her careful wits. And after giving it a day to consider, Yaoyorozu agrees to help Detective Gorou with the sting operation.

The jewel that was stolen is known as the Calder Jewel. Encased in a gold piece, that’s aesthetically designed to be, descriptively, a canopy of a tree. It’s also worn as a neckless.

In order to get pass the security unnoticed, Momo has to break in by disguising herself as a staff member and then change in a private room into a formal masquerade attire.

And now that Momo has infiltrated the casino, she has to look around for where the yakuza has kept the jewel.

She passes by an open bar and the tapper(aka: a bartender) asks what she would like to order. Yaoyorozu replies in a nervous tone “N-No thank you. I’m driving.” The tapper happily respects, and goes to another client to serve.

The casino is relatively spacious. There’s three lines of 5 slot machines at one side of the room, 4 total blackjack tables on the opposite, and 8 roulettes filling up the rest of the space. There are two sets of stairs that lead up to the 2nd floor balcony where gamblers can find a couple or few poker tables. In this same spacious area, Momo spots a pair of large doors being guarded, located at the 2nd floor. Perhaps that’s where they’re keeping the prizes.

Momo eventually makes her way up the stairs after pretending to play one of the slot machines so no one would be suspicious of her. When she reaches the 2nd floor, Momo hides behind a corner and informs the detective through her ear piece. “Detective. I’ve spotted the location.” She says. The detective replied “Be careful and be vigilant with your approach.”

When Momo peaks around the corner, she is then spotted by the guard. Momo quickly pulls back to hide, but the guard has already spotted. The guard approaches Momo after she yells out “Hey!” The guard catches Momo and asks a few questions. “What are you doing at the corner?”

In Momo’s head, her thoughts are jumbling around. “What should I do?” “I’m caught!” “Should I fight?” “Immediately run?” The guard slams her hand on the wall to get Momo’s attention. “I’ll ask again, What is your business?”

There is a momentary pause between the two. Before Momo could speak, the guard goes “If you’re not hear to try your luck in roulette, you’re not going to participate in the bidding.”

Thanks to Momo’s quick wits, she under stands what the guard meant. “Oh, Y-yes!” Said Momo. “I’m here to play.” The annoyed looking guard then places her hand behind Momo and shoves her in to the direction of one of the roulette tables. That was close. Her cover was almost blown.

Now in order to avoid suspicion again, Momo steps into the poker table and meets a few poker players and a dealer. After standing in front of them for a moment, Momo quickly takes an empty seat on the table. Fortunately for her, the other gamblers are about to start another round. The dealer looks at Momo, and lets out a cough to get her attention. Momo turns and is puzzled by the way the dealer is looking at her. Did she do something wrong or is it an actual bad time to join?

The player next to Momo gives her a nudge by the elbow to inform her. “Your poker chips?” Said the player. That’s right! She knew she forgot something. She tells the dealer to wait for a minute, then she put’s her hand in her bag to “bring out some poker chips” In actuality, she’s just making her own poker chips. Fortunately, she has a good look on what they looked like from where she is sitting.

Being relatively new to gambling, she just drops an arm-full of poker chips onto the table. She then mimics the other players on how they organize their poker chips. Once Momo has fixed her pile, she’s ready to play.

The dealer deals out each player 2 cards faced down, after two players raise the pot. Each player secretly checks their cards. Momo’s cards are the 4 of clubs and the 8 of hearts. When the player next to her calls their chips, everyone turns to Momo to she what she does.

Momo is relatively nervous playing, but fortunately Detective Gorou has already taught her how to play. As it was her turn, she calls her chips to the pot. Once all the players have placed in their starting bets, the dealer places 3 cards face up on the table. There’s the 5 of spades, king of hearts, jack of spades. One of the players fold, and the others call. The next card is placed and it’s the Ace of diamonds. All of the players, including Momo, checks their turn. The final card, the 3 of hearts, is placed. This is the final turn of the round. The other players have checked their turn. Momo is carefully studying her cards and the probability. Eventually, she checks too. Once all of the cards are revealed, the winning pot does to the player at the opposite end of the table. This is just the first game, Momo will win next time.

After a while, Momo walks out of the poker room with her poker chips. After losing and winning multiple rounds, she earns 2% more than she initially started. There was not much of a profit from playing poker.

Momo then places the poker chips into her bag. Just as she was done pouring, she accidentally bumps the side of a person while she was not looking as she walks.

As Momo and the person in front of her catches themself, they go “Oh pardon me.” before turning towards her. Momo sees the person in front of her wearing a black morning coat attire with some pink aesthetics, a pink decorative mask, and a fedora with a pink ribbon around. Everything about their outfit gives out a pink aesthetic yet still dressed formal.

Once the two looked at each other, Momo softly yips before bowing forward. “I’m deeply sorry!” She apologize. “I wasn’t paying attention on where I was going!”

The pink person replies, “That’s quite alright, ma’am. In fact, I should be the one apologising you. For I just came out of the poker game.”

“Oh really?” Momo awkwardly laughs as she tells them her first experience playing poker. “I didn’t get lucky with every hand I got.“

“You’re just relatively new to gambling. Heck, I bet a lot in these games but I’m not a gambler. I only lasted one round of the game that I was just in. I betted 500 and I lost 500.” They laugh at their own irony. “I just started playing and I only bet in a poker game, Once.”

Momo finds it hilarious too, but also feels sort of bad for their loss.

Once after the two of them shared a laugh, the pink anonymous takes a drink from their glass that’s shaped like a bee hive, topped with a honeycomb and a piece of cotton candy.

While they were savouring their drink, Momo’s ear piece goes on and she hear’s Detective Gorou’s voice. “Yaoyorozu.” He said. “Come in. Have you spotted the stone yet?”

Momo turns to secretly respond. “Negative.“ She replied. “The room is being held by guards until the bidding starts. I have to blend in until they’re open.“

“Affirmative.“ The detective then ends the call.

When Momo turns back after the call, she sees the guard who yelled at her earlier, had just turn towards her direction. “Did she see me that I was in a call?” “Does she suspect me?” These are the thoughts that are going around her head.

"Say, I can lend you all of my chips.“ Said the pink individual.

Momo is shocked when she heard their offer. “Uhh, n-no. I can’t do that.”

“I insist. You can use them to earn more chips.”

The offer is intriguing to Momo. The chips she has in her bag are her creation and doesn’t want to inflate the economy. So using the actual money would sustain it.

“That’s... Quite generous of you. But are you actually fine with this? Giving your money to a complete stranger you just met? Aren’t you interested in buying something from the bidding as well?”

“I only came here to have fun.” They replied. “And fun I will have!“ They raise their hive glass as they cheer.

“O-okay.” Said Momo, hesitantly. “I’ll accept your offer.“

“Very well. Shall we?“

“Ehh? You’re coming with me?”

“Sure.” The pink anonymous opens one side of their coat, showing the poker chips being kept in their pocket. “Someone has to carry them while your bag is already full.“

Momo looks down at her bag then sees and feels how cramped it is inside. Right... She hasn’t realised until now.

And so, the two of them head down stairs to bet in other games. Roulette was worse than poker, it’s too random to come up with a strategy. Slots are next, however, 10 times in a row, they won nothing. That is until Blackjack. Momo made a huge comeback with her wits of probability analysis. In the end, they earned about half from what they’ve started with.

After the back to back gamble, the pair sits down at the open bar. Momo still refuses to drink while Mx. Pink orders the same glass from before.

The tapper takes out the hive-shaped glass and sets it on the table. Then pours in 1 part of whiskey, half-part mead, honey, maple syrup, and stirs until the honey-syrup is diluted. He then adds a piece of honeycomb and cotton candy, before sliding it to Pink. They thank the tapper and takes another sip.

To Momo, that looks like a lot of sweet flavours going into their mouth. Perhaps too sweet for Momo’s liking.

“I’ve got to say, you have quite a sweet tooth there.” She said.

Pink replies. “Well, this is a night where we get to be happy. Does it not?”

Momo sees how genuine their smile is. Even though this person might be a criminal, she can hear the tone of happiness in their voice.

Momo nods to their response. It’s probably a good thing that they gave her all of their chips. Otherwise, they would’ve been devastated when they found out that a particular item was taken from the bidding? If they didn’t crossed paths, would they still attend the bidding and be wiped out by the competition?

A moment passes, everyone in the casino then hears the speakers turn on. Everyone hears a message. “Attention. We may now be starting the bidding in 5 minutes. Please bring your chips and pick a number sign. Those who out their chips together with others are allowed. And to those who do not have any, will be kicked out of the casino immediately.” When the ends, the speakers become silent. Then, Momo sees the majority of gamblers start heading their way to the two doors where she suspects where the jewel might be. The other players are cashing out and leave. The staff are leaving as well.

Momo stands up and turns to Mx. Pink. “Looks like this is where we part. I appreciate your help but I need to head up there.” Before she could hold out here hands to receive their poker chips, Mx. Pink stands up and says “Wait a moment.”

And just as they start to walk over, Momo’s thoughts are running around her head again. “What?” “D-did they change their mind after everything?” Was being so generous an act to get more chips?”

When they stand next to her, they let out an unexpected info.

“I thought you were just here to get extra money, but you actually want to bid on something. You see, those chips I gave you are registered to me. If you walk up there with my chips alone, they’ll accuse you for stealing from other.“

Does that mean the chips Momo created wouldn’t be accepted?

“What do you mean by ‘registered’?“ She asked.

“You remember that one staff who provide you your chips, asks for your thumb prints? Well, that means you registered an account. And for every chip that was first touched gets added to the player’s account. This is so that no greedy gambler here would snatch anyone’s chips.”

Oh no. The detective heard what that individual said was not aware of the anti-piracy system. This is bad. How is Momo going to take the jewel now?

Pink turns and sees the troubled look on Momo’s face.

Momo looks down and is standing in the middle of the room, internally panicking. She messed up. The sting operation has failed.

Pink holds out their open hand to Momo. When she sees the hand, she looks up to them. “It’s okay.” They said. “Your not going to get in trouble, because I’m going to be paired up with you.”

Well, that’s quite kind of them to say, but that’s not really the problem. Before Momo could say anything, Pink grabs her right hand and pulls along with her to the two doors, up on the 2nd level.

When they arrived in front of the door with the guards.... guarding the door, each holding a device. Mx. Pink demonstrated how the device works. They take their poker chip and place it in the slot. Then they press their thumb on the scanner. The light turns green, meaning the chips belong to them.

Now it’s Momo’s turn. She’s entirely anxious at this moment. Her poker chips are a fraud. This is not going to end well. Momo opens up her bag, reaches in, and pulls out one of her chips. Pink then snatches the chip from her fingers and places it in the slot. Now, is is the troublesome part.

Momo hesitantly reaches out and presses her right thumb on the scanner. As it’s pressed, the device starts scanning, analyzing the her thumb print. Momo readies herself for the worst. When the device says negative, she just has to fight her way through the guards and break into the stash some ho--

The light on the device turns green. Confirming her chips are valid. This has come to a surprise for Momo. How did the light turn green?

“You’re clear. C’mon in.“ Says the guard. The ear piece is still active. Detective Gorou was being so worried about Momo getting caught, he let out a big sigh of relief when she is granted access. He would’ve called for back up and stormed the casino if anything bad happened.

Before she could question to herself more, Pink grabs hold to her hand again enters the room.

Once they enter, the doors close behind them. The room they have entered gives off a small cinema vibe to it. There’s multiple rows of chairs and a stage at the front with small sets of stairs leading up to the stage. There’s a large curtain backdrop and two lines of yakuza guards on each side across from each other.

The speakers in the room turn on, and the two head over to take a seat. The bidding is starting. When they sat down, Pink whispers to Momo. “You can use all of my money to buy anything you want.” and then goes back to their sitting position.

That’s generous of them, but Momo has eyes on a bigger prize. The first item to bid is a gorgeous chinese house pot with a lid. It looks really pretty. Momo has about 10 of them in her [“house”]. Pink whispers over to Momo again. “This is one is an antique.” They said. “This used to be a soup pot.”

Momo turns her head and looks over to Pink with a concerned face. Pink’s comment even get picked up by the ear piece microphone, Detective Gorou becomes puzzled also.

Pink continues to whisper. “No one uses them anymore, but back then, in almost every household in china, they have pots like that one, used for making soup. That’s why the pot has a lid, to prevent the steam from escaping. Now a days, we have modern cooking pots and stoves to have better control.”

So it used to be a kitchen utensil. Imagine using an old kitchen pan or steamer to act as a plant pot. That would be weird for a lot of people.

Once the pot was sold to the highest bidder, now comes the second round. An anthropomorphic shark walk in, wearing the same attire as the yakuza, carries something with a blanket over, on a dolly. This is strange considering that there are no yakuza members with powerful quirks. Momo’s friend, Tsuyu Asui, talked about her experience with a shark quirk during her internship and how strong he was in her encounter. So why is there a shark in the yakuza?

When everyone sees the shark, all of the guards draw out their gun. Looks like he isn’t apart of the them. He doesn’t seem hostile yet either. He’s just slowly walking on stage.. Once the shark stands in the middle, he sets the dolly down and then pulls away the blanket. He reveals a tied up old man with duct tape on his mouth. It looks like he’s struggling to get out.

The audience and guards gasped when they say all saw what was under the blanket.

The shark draws out a gun and points it at the old man. “You damn bastards!” Shouted the shark. “Do you even know what it’s like to lose someone you love?! You all treated him like one of you. And then you just threw him under the bus?!”

The guards point their guns directly towards the shark. He sees them and places the tip of the barrel at the old man’s neck. “Go ahead! Your guns aren’t strong enough to penetrate my skin. If you do, I’ll blow your boss’s neck off.”

The old man is the head of the yakuza? Momo turns to the guards and sees that they’re shaking as they’re holding their guns. They eventually lowered them before the shark swaps out a tommy gun and starts spraying the room. He mainly aimed at the guards while the audience and Momo ducked down. A couple got shot.

Momo tells Pink to take cover before she crawls over to the other side of the sitting row. The detective hears gunfire and immediately calls for back up.

At the end of the row, Momo peaks over a seat to see the shark. Then she pulls back and creates a shield. She has to take down the villain before things escalate.

Momo rolls out the seats and runs up the stairs with the shield facing towards the shark. He sees her running and then fires the gun at her, but the shield reflects off the bullets, protecting her. She rams it at the villain, making him drop the tommy gun.

Momo quickly creates a rod and swings it at the shark. When she strikes however, there was no damage done. The villain absorbed the force like a brick wall. He grabs the rod and tosses Momo across the stage. Just as she gets up, the villain then pulls out his hand gun again and places the tip at the same spot on the yakuza boss.

“It’s useless. No one is going to help him.” Says the villain. “He’ll be the first to pay for what he did!“ Said in an infuriating tone.

To Momo, hope is not lost. By now, the detective has already called for back up when he heard the gun shots picked up from her ear piece. She just needs to stall for time until they arrive. But the real challenge is, how is she going to save the yakuza boss?

Just then, she notices a red card flung into the air. It changed trajectories and flies pass the shark’s hand. Giving him an unbearable sting on his and and dropping the gun, before the card vertically sticks onto the stage floor.

The boss, Momo, and the villain, focuses on the card when it landed. They look concerned on how it got here.

“Ehh?” says the villain. “What is this.” He then hears a gunfire as he fells something hitting his back before he fall down to his face from the force behind him. His fall domino effected the yakuza boss, making him fall as well. Momo heads over to the boss and crates a sharp tool to quickly cut the rope.

After shots were fired, the shark and Momo hear a voice replying to the villain’s question. “You may have tough skin, but everyone gets paper cuts.” To Momo, it’s entirely familiar.

The two looked behind the villain and sees the Pink Maskarade person with a fedora. Momo thought they were still hiding. She then noticed a strange looking gun in Pink’s hand. It’s white with some orange stripe features and a grip handle at the back. She has never seen a gun or a blaster like that before.

“Your weapon may have hurt me.” Says the shark. ”But your power will be overwhelmed by mine!” He says that as he and the freed yakuza boss behind him stands up simultaneously.

There was a brief pause and then the two looked at each other. Just as the villain goes “Huh?!?!” in shocked, the boss immediately flees the room with all of the bidders and other yakuza members in a fast forward zany visual and leaving the doors open.

The villain turns back to Pink with an even angrier look oh his face. “LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!!! YOU LET MY PREY GET AWAY!!!”

“Well then.” Pink replied. “Looks like you’re my opponent now.” They then pull out a pink-silver aesthetic jet that's the size of their hand. Momo sees it and wonders what they’re going to do with it.

Just before Pink could do anything, the villain picks up the tommy gun he dropped and sprays at the ceiling. The debris then fall on top of Pink. Momo couldn’t help them in time because everything happened too fast. Pink got crushed.

When the villain is about to laugh at their demise, he stops and sees a silhouette in the cloud of dust. When it has cleared, the shark and Momo sees Pink has changed into a black helmet with a pink top hat-shaped mask at the front, and a Pink cloaked tuxedo. They are also holding the gun but with the pink jet from earlier, attached to the gun.

“Ehh? Wh- who are you?!“ the villain asked as they point at Pink-top hat.

Pink replies as they start walking towards the villain. “You didn’t introduced yourself. So you don’t need to know, for now.” Then they start firing a few shots at him. He takes in the hits and shoots back with the tommy gun. Pink evades the bullets, swerving in front of the shark as he continues to lock on them.

Momo takes this opportunity to create something to capture the villain while he’s distracted. She sets one knee down to create a special cannon that’ll shoot soft ammo. Once the cannon is set, the shark turns his head towards her as she hold an orange sphere that’ll fit into the weapon. The villain turns around and points his gun at Momo and fires before she could load up the cannon.

Momo quickly holds up her shield to defend herself from the bullets. Pink sees all of this happening and then blasts the tommy gun out of the shark’s hands. When Momo notices no bullets fired at her, she immediately loads the cannon pointed at the villain, and fires.

The villain gets hit by the projectile then it covers him with a soft-yet sticky substance upon impact. The shark’s body is now trapped in a tar-like blob, leaving his head sticking out. “What is this? Release me at once!” he demanded.

Pink ignores his demands and walks over to Momo. But before they could say a word, she disappears from where she was last standing. Meanwhile, Momo ran to the back of the stage to look for the stolen Jewel. After rummaging around, she finds a jewellery case. Upon closer inspection, the case has already been open and the necklace is gone. “Wha- Who- Where did it go?!” she thought.

Just then, Momo hears the police entering the room and shouting “FREEZE!” and the detective calling out “Yaoyorozu!”. They’re here to apprehend the villain who caused trouble. She immediately heads back to the front of the stage. “I’m alright!” She responded. “But detective, we have a pro-” Just as Momo passes through the back drop, she sees Pink having their hands raised while the police and detective are pointing their guns at them.

Momo stares at the scenario she’s witnessing. Detective Gorou turns his head to Momo. “Yaoyorozu, don’t go near them!” he said. “They’re the Phantom Thief.”

“So they are a criminal.” She thought to herself. But if that’s the case, why would they be so generous by giving all of their money for the bidding and help Momo get through security? If they’d haven’t bumped into each other, they would’ve attend the bidding anyway because the chips were registered to Pink.

“Glad I could help out.” said Pink as they look at Momo. “But I’ll be taking this with me.” Then they hold out the Calder Jewel in their hand. Momo is shocked that the stranger who was helping her, has taken a priceless artifact.

The police opens fire and Pink gracefully evades them while keeping the jewel undamaged. They swiftly run towards the exit door while slipping pass, pushing, and redirecting the cops away. They immediately jumped off the 2nd floor balcony and then lands on the ground floor. Detective Gorou follows along by quickly taking off his long coat, grappling it by the railing, and holding on to the other end as he jumps off. His rope-cloak allows him to decrease his momentum when he reaches to the ground.

The detective stops at 3 feet above ground, then he lets go of his cloak before immediately dashing towards Pink. Who has already called the elevator. The detective jump towards the Phantom Thief to tackle them and prevent from escaping. However, just as the elevator doors open, the Phantom Thief grabs Gorou’s arms uses his momentum turn and redirect him down on the floor. Causing him to feel excruciating force on his body. When he’s on the ground, Pink lets go of his arm and steps into the elevator. The detective watches them press a button and say “Adieu~” before the elevator closes.

The detective is infuriated from the sight of the Phantom Thief escaping. He slams his fist on the ground as he lays there. Momo sees the detective pacing on the floor from the 2nd floor indoor balcony. She then reflects on what happened tonight. She interacted with a criminal, but they helped her get into the bidding room. “Why were they after the Calder Jewel? How did they changed appearance?” She then takes off her mask and looks at ti in her hand. “And who is the Phantom Thief?”

#my hero academia fic #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia fic #bnha fanfiction #kaitou sentai lupinranger fic #lupinranger fic #bnha x lupinranger #mha x lupinranger #lupinranger oc #momo yaoyorozu #mha yaoyorozu #bnha yaoyorozu

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erensnubs · 2 years

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𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 𝑶𝒇𝒇 !

Businessman!Tomura Shigaraki x Hotel Manager!Reader

WC: 9.2k

Roaring 20's AU, Jazz Age AU, Gatsby Setting, New York City-esque? Reader is implied that they first generation immigrant, Shigaraki is a traveling, international businessman, some language barriers, lots of fluff, pining, strangers to lovers, present mic is a little shit, lots of cheesiness, yearning, mentions of smoking, little snippets of history, reader and shiggy are both edgy, morbid, workaholics, teensy bit of angst if you squint Thank you @earlesskitten for letting me join your 555 collab! and ofc this is dedicated to my beloved moot and shiggy simp @letsnot77

Synopsis: Parties were something you despised but maybe you'll tolerate this one because it's a masquerade. Not because of a handsome stranger you saw the other day.

December 30th 1923, 5:17 PM.

Right now people all over the world are getting ready for parties and festivities to celebrate the coming of a new year.

You are in the bathtub after another day at work.

New Year's Eve meant as much to you as your next office party, the next anniversary.

Your body sinks into the tub, and your eyes lazily follow the ripples.

What talk of new resolutions and new beginnings when the next day you're just going to be hungover and have to clean up the house. And then the next week you were going to have to follow your mundane life of working and putting on a smile.

It might be a new year but it wasn't going to be much of a change.

You're planning to celebrate by calling up your aunt, who's currently on her retirement trip in Europe and having a glass and saying cheers with her. It'll be lowkey, small but you'll spend time with someone you actually want to be with.

Bringgggg

You look over in the direction of your phone and groan.

You clamber out of the bathtub and wrap a robe around you.

You mutter condescendingly as you pick up the ringer, "Why did they have to call right now…"

"HEYO, [NAMEEE]!"

You inwardly groan, "Oh Hizashi. How are you doing?"

It was your obnoxious neighbor, and even more obnoxious client at your firm.

And somehow your only friend?

"I'm doing absolutely fantastic! How bout you [Name], how're ya doing?"

You lazily thumb the fabric of your robe, "Perfectly fine, until you had to call."

You can hear his frown before he pouts, "Oh don't be like that sweetheart. You know you'd be absolutely lonely without me."

He wasn't wrong but you weren't going to admit that to him.

"Whatever. What do you need me for? And if you broke something, I'm not vouching for you. End of story," you say sternly.

You walk to the edge of your bed, mouthpiece in one hand and receiver in the other, careful to walk slowly so the wire wouldnt tangle up.

His loud voice laughs and it makes crackles in your ear, "I did not break anything at all. Well at least this time. Buttttt…. I do need a favor."

You set the receiver down on the bed, "Let me guess. You need me to get my private pilot to fly you to a party-"

"No, but that would be convenient," he says thoughtfully.

You continue rattling off, "Perhaps you need gambling money, assuming from Aizawa's scowl the last time you went to a casino-"

"Uh-"

In a mock response you say, "Oh you want to throw a party but don't have the money to throw it? Is that it?"

There was silence and then a crackle.

You stood up and shook your head, "No, no, no, no Hizashi do not do this to me.

Hizashi nervously chuckles, "Okay, I know what it looks like-"

"Hizashi. You know that I will always help you, but this is too much," you tell him.

Hizashi interrupts you, "Just hear me out [Name]. I do want a party and I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have the resources to do it!"

His voice is annoyingly more whiny and you had to scoff, "Resources. You sound like you're deploying products for when wartime comes."

You walk over to the window and sit by the nook. You breathe in the magnificently tailored view in front of you, the sky glistening after the setting sun and the emissions from the factories downtown curled in wisps flying up above. It made it seem magical, but you knew better than what the view showed.

Hizashi laughs nervously, the quakiness in his voice apparent even when he was wires away, "Very funny, [Name]. But seriously, I need to have this party."

"You can have this party, that's not what I'm upset about. I'm just more curious as to why I have to provide for the party."

Hizashi sighs exasperated, as if he was the one whose energy is drained, "Because…."

"Because…?" You press on.

"Because my parents cut me out of my inheritance/allowance money because of the last party I threw."

You groan audibly, "Was this the California incident?"

You hear Hizashi humming, "Mmmmm maybe… yes?"

If current technology allowed it, you would travel to wherever Hizashi was hiding, no doubt because his parents probably kicked him out, and slap his goddamn face.

“Why do you do this to me? Why ask me out of all your friends?”

Hizashi starts protesting, “Look I wouldn’t have asked unless-”

You cut in, “Unless what?”

You hear Hizashi sigh, “Unless it was absolutely necessary. You see, my parents have some important clients coming from Japan. Before the California incident, they expected me to host this New Years party to welcome these clients. You know how they are.”

You couldn’t put that against him, as an heir of a company Hizashi already had a lot on his plate.

“And I just need to use one of your hotels for this one night. I have money for catering, music, valets and staff-”

You sigh and regretfully say, “Hizashi, I wish I could help you but I’m only the district manager for these hotels. I don’t own any of them, I’m simply the manager. The only way I could let it happen is if I was there chaperoning.”

Hizashi seems to jump at this, “Then come! Join the party! Please [Name]. Pleaseee.”

Your laugh is barely tinged with humor, “No, you know that I like relaxing on my vacation.”

“Which is what you’re going to do! You don’t have to pay for any food, or ‘manage’ anything! Just get in there and enjoy yourself! Play cards, eat and drink food to your heart's content!” Hizashi says pleadingly.

You roll your eyes, “No, Hizashi. I’m sure you could find another location for you to have this party. It’s also unnecessary for me to attend anyways. How would those investors feel when they realize that the Yamadas had to ask a lowly district manager of the hotel to use the ballroom for this event?”

Hizashi whines, “We don’t have to tell them! You’ll blend right in, just [Name] please I need this to work. It’s just one night and I promise I’ll…”

Your thoughts drift away again, Hizashi’s pleas simply becoming background noise as you scan the city outside. You really needed to go outside and not listen to Hizashi prattling around.

You cut him off, “Listen Hizashi, I’ll think about it okay? I’ll give you a call once I have made my decision. If I don’t call you, expect a telegraph from me containing my condolences and information for other places you could set up reservations for your party”

You hear Hizashi cheer, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Just remember to give me the call by tonight! The investors have no idea where they’re supposed to be going and-”

“I understand Hizashi, have a pleasant night.”

You slam the mouthpiece to the receiver and sigh. As much as you wanted to help Hizashi, you knew you couldn’t enable him any longer. For far too long he’s been leaning on your charity, when he could just ask his other “friends” the ones who invested in automobile companies and cigarette startups. You didn’t need time to make your decision, you were going to say no. You just need time outside of the confines of your apartment and take a walk.

Standing up, you briskly walk to your closet and slip on a fur-trimmed coat, something that one of your business partners gave you as a gift, because they hated seeing you wear “drab” and “dull” things. You put on your flats and place a box of cigarettes in your coat pocket and swing open the door.

5: 30 PM

“Mama! Look! It’s an automobile!”

A little Irish boy is tugging on his mother’s hand and pointing at one of the greatest sensations the start of the 20th century had to offer. After World War 1, the people began to hope for some kind of miracle to look forward to, something to ooh and ahh at. Enter the automobile industry, where Henry Ford produced the latest kinds of transportation. No more walking, now you just need to buy a car.

The mother hushes the child and you have to stifle a giggle as you watch the child break free from his mother’s hold and rush toward the car. He waves aggressively, hoping for the driver to notice but to no avail, he doesn’t.

Little things like these, you think, are part of the reason why you loved this city. Despite its flaws and all your trials you had to face to get to where you are, it was the little moments that, if you were lucky to catch, that made it seem worth living. It wasn’t the big factories and businesses that made the city boom and thrive. It really was the people and their hopes and dreams. That’s why you liked coming downtown, where most of the small businesses built up by immigrants lived. It reminded you of your upbringing and where your roots are.

Here everything was down to earth and was all about the people. Here was where families and communities thrived and where businesses and money were an afterthought.

You walk down further to the little bridge that goes over a small stream, your favorite spot. The sun was no longer prominent in the sky and the evening turned chilly, families going back home and you see the lights in the shops closing down for the night.

A small jazz ensemble is playing near the bridge, but you can tell they’re wrapping up. The melody they’re playing is like humming, the perfect buzz to accompany the end of the day’s activities and entering the city’s nightlife.

You walk up to them and place a couple bills in the saxophone case, while the trumpet player tips you his hat in appreciation. You smile back, and slowly make your way to the bridge.

Your feet make no sound on the wooden bridge, the sound of the rushing water and buzzing of the bugs and music drowning out anything that didn’t set the scene.

If the downtown parts of the city were your favorite places, then this was your favorite time to be in the city.

You lean against the railing and inhale the cold air. Most people when they think of New York, were either the bright days, full of bustling cars and people moving around, going about their day. Endless chatter and the smell of emissions fill the air. Or they think of the nights, where the lights completely disappeared and a significant throb of music and secrecy passed through the city, full of dancing, money and music. Of course, this only happened in the upper circles of wealth, where it was famed that if you were part of these things, it would make you unbearably happy. All a farce.

You pull out a cigarette and your fingers search for something else.

You groan. You forgot to bring a lighter.

You sigh again, waving away that little mistake and focus on the beautiful landscape before you. Frosted grass, with white tinted bark on the trees. Not a sight of clouds of smoke from a car or a factory, no loud noises of the streets. You consider yourself lucky that you were able to have some alone time.

You lean forward to stare at the river, hoping you’d find something interesting when your hat decide to fall forward. In a panic, you frantically let go of the railing and for the most part, jump to grab your hat.

Your fingers slip and catch it but your body still felt like it was in the air. Falling.

Until you feel a pair of warm hands course through your hips and pull you down to the ground.

5:55 PM

Breathlessly, you turn around and jump back.

Standing in front of you, was your regularly dressed man wearing a three piece suit. His jacket and pants were navy blue, his vest and tie were matte black. Despite his well tailored appearance, his clothes seemed disheveled. The tie was loose and his chest was heaving up and down as if he was running. Your eyes travel upward and you meet his face and your heart stammers a bit at the sight you see.

You first notice the glowing, moonlit pale face of the man. Was it his natural tone or was it the waxing moon that reflected its light on this man’s complexion? As your eyes wander, you notice that despite his complexion that was likened to the moon, his face was nothing like it. He had an impeccably strong jawline and cheekbones that cut deep into his face. You wonder if an architect designed his face, rather than an artist, with all the harsh, strict angles of his face. Did a different supreme being than the one that created this world, made this man?

The only thing that made him less godly, and more human was perhaps the sunken eyes that gleamed red? Or were they brown? Nevertheless, they were surrounded by the familiar purple pools of exhaustion that was evidence of hardworking, human life. Oh, and his ruffled hair, that seemed gray but you were convinced it had to be a certain shade of blue.

You stare at his eyes again and his angular cheekbones. Considering the style of his tie, you could assume he came from East Asia. But this wasn’t where the Asian immigrant community was, this area was more of the blurred line between the white immigrants and white “americans”. Which could mean that this man was-

“Are you alright?”

You swear you could fall right back into the river, because, good God, this man was divine.

His voice was low, a little quietly with an edge of raggedness. You were right, he was a foreigner, his English was heavily accented but you could tell he practiced the language like a wealthy man. Was this man a wealthy businessman? And if he was, what was he doing here? But you suppose that you couldn’t argue with that because you yourself, an upperclassman, was here flirting between the boundaries of the ones who made it, and the ones who have yet to do so.

Instead of answering his question with a “Yes, I’m fine thank you. What’s your name? How do you like your eggs cooked in the morning? Let me brush the stray hairs on your face for you.”

Your mouth runs along without you thinking and you blurt out, “Did you run here?”

You immediately clamp your mouth. How embarrassing?! The handsome man just asked you if you were fine after he practically saved your life and you asked him if he ran here?!

A laugh rings in the air and you’re shocked that it’s coming from his mouth.

“Oh no. I actually came here by ship, but if we are talking about this situation, then yes I did.”

His eyes crease in a teasing smile and your body practically sighs in relief.

You quietly reply, “Well to answer your question, I’m okay. Thank you.”

You expect the man to leave after saying something in the likes of, "Of course" but to your surprise he steps forward and leans on the railing, facing forward, with you.

Trying to hide your astonishment, you attempt to casually lean your back on the railing. He digs through his pocket and you can't help but notice his fingers, adorned with rings. None seemed of any status importance, though for sure expensive. He pulls out a lighter and flicks it open.

He turns to you, glazy eyes that bore into the very depths of your soul.

"Are you willing to share some cigarettes with me?"

Flustered, you nod carefully. You pull out your cigarette box and stretch it out to him. He plucks one out of the box and places it in his mouth. After that, you grab one and place it in your mouth as well. He brings the lighter close to the tip and uses his hand to cover both items, the air suddenly getting windy. It catches on fire and he closes the lighter. Your fingers reach out for the lighter, but he doesn't hand it to you.

The man beckons you closer with his finger. You stare in confusion.

He smiles again, incredibly cheeky, and beckons his finger closer.

Oh my god, he wants to light the cigarette for you.

You thank the night sky that swallows up the small blush that rises on your cheeks.

Your face leans in, waiting for the familiar fire of the lighter to touch your tip.

Instead, you get the man's face leaning in.

Instinctively you want to pull back but you're due for some kind of temptation. After all the hard work you do, it would be nice to take some risks.

Starting with letting a stranger light your cigarette with theirs.

He stops short of the cigarette tip but his face seemed impossibly close, especially how his angle of approach was. His head was incredibly tilted and you could see the expanse of his neck.

You forget to breathe but thank God he moves back away for a second.

"My name's Tomura Shigaraki."

He introduces himself after he is inches away from your face?

You reply, "[Full Name]. It's nice to meet you…"

"Call me Shigaraki. Japanese last names are spoken like a first name here."

You could tell he wanted to say so much more, lips moving with no sound but it felt like he couldn't express himself fully with the barrier of language between the both of you.

You try to smoothly move the conversation along, “What brings you here… Shigaraki?”

He smiles at you and you notice that he had sharp canines, “A business party? I am not sure why we need to celebrate business on New Years but that is why I’m here.”

You had to laugh, “Don’t tell me you dislike parties.”

Shigaraki raises his eyebrow, “I did not say that. I am just confused why we need to categorize it as a business event, when we all know that we will just drink. Like a Nomikai.”

You taste the syllables on your tongue, “Nomikai. What does that mean?”

“Drinking meeting,” he replies. “A social event.”

Shigaraki takes out his cigarette and places it between his first two fingers, still looking out at the river in front of him.

“How about you? What brings you here?”

He punctuates the word you with a thrust of his cigarette in your direction.

You fumble for the right words. For all you know this man might be a crazy con artist, or a pickpocket. You didn’t want to reveal too much about yourself.

You finally decide on the right words, “To breathe. I’ve been stuck at work and had to deal with a friend.”

He waves his cigarette around, “Is this… your place?”

Shigaraki says the word your, like you owned this place. Like this was your sanctuary.

In a sense he was right, but despite how many times you’ve come back to stroll down Memory Lane, you felt out of place. You changed since the last time you ever called this place, yours. You got older and you moved out, you made it “big” as some say. You could feel the difference when you walked here with your fancy clothes and the way your body seemed restrained, rather than freeing.

Seeing your silence, Shigaraki senses a discomfort and speaks, “I only ask, because I feel that you are well acquainted with this place.”

You shake your head, “No, I’m sorry if I didn’t answer quickly. But you’re right. I knew these streets very well.”

You exhale a puff of smoke and look at the twinkling nights above you, “But I would never call it my place. I don’t think it ever was.”

Shigaraki tilts his head with curiosity at your remark, he opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

You face him straight on. It seems the darkness of the night is your comrade tonight, giving you enough confidence to say such frivolous things.

“I have to say. Your English is really good. Better than mine, with all the grammar and everything.”

Shigaraki chuckles, “Trust me, participating in international business affairs pushes you to learn lots of languages. Just enough to impress the people I talk to.”

He gives you a wink at that and you turn your head away to hide the big smile that lights up on your face.

Shigaraki longingly stares at you but stops once he realizes you’re not going to flirt back. He shrugs and places the cigarette back in his mouth.

You thoughtlessly ask, “Who are you meeting up with? I don’t know too many businessmen who have parties on holidays.”

Shigaraki counters, “And you know lots of businessmen?”

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrow. Shigaraki laughs.

“I say that because I know so little of you. You know that I am here for a-”

You jump in, “Nomikai”

He chuckles, “Yes, nomikai. But you, I know so little of. I only know that you are in this place, used to be of this place, but considering that you come back…”

You look in confusion at where he’s going with this.

“... You are not of your place, where you are right now.”

You chew your lip, “Vaguely accurate.”

“Which is why you should tell me more about you.”

He finishes with a proud smile, resembling a kid in a candy store and you fight the urge to smile back.

“What would you like to know?”

If it was time for indulging, it might as well have been now.

“Did you live here as a child? Where do you live now? Am I wrong to assume you live in the upside of this city?”

Surprised at his remark, you reply, “I did. I’m first generation, my parents came here when they got married. How did you know I don’t live here anymore?

Shigaraki shrugs and nonchalantly gestures at your clothes, “Those are Coco Chanel pants. Your jewelry seems expensive.”

You glance at the items he listed, “Oh I guess so. I manage some hotels up there. It’s a lot, but it's a fulfilling job. Makes me challenged.”

Shigaraki tilts his head, “Challenged? How so?”

You sigh and go into your regular spiel, “The market changed drastically after World War 1. The people wanted a new age of prosperity and wealth. Something to forget all the destruction after the war. Hotel business is less of taking in travelers, it’s become more of a hub for entertainment and making connections. I’m constantly checking up on hotels to make sure they provide the best service possible to compete with other hotel chains.”

Shigaraki glances at your slumped form, “It must be tiring.”

You laugh bitterly and take a drag out of your cigarette, “It is. Part of the reason why I’m going to avoid New Years Eve events.”

Shigaraki chuckles along with you, “I understand. I am dreading this particular one. The host is supposed to be a Japanese businessman I worked with before, but I guess the host is now his son. I received an invitation but no address or directions for the location of the event.”

Your eyes widen. He’s going to Hizashi’s party.

You turn away slightly, trying to hide your surprise, “Really? That’s unfortunate.”

Shigaraki nods, “Truly. I’m afraid my last hours of this year will be filled with stress.”

The sky has fully taken its cloak of darkness, the sky was pitch black and the stars were pale lights compared to the street lamps and lights of the buildings all around you. The musicians, you realize were long gone, and it was only you, the slumbering city and crickets outside.

And Shigaraki of course.

You glance at him, and find Shigaraki staring at you too. You quickly whip your head around and attempt to smoothly face away from his intense eyes.

You could tell the both of you wanted to say something, to advance but how you ended your conversation earlier seemed to set the tone. You both had jobs, things you had to do. Would you even have time to talk to Shigaraki if you did anything? Would he even remember you?

A slight tap on your shoulder broke your reverie.

You turn around and see Shigaraki, an angular face with a small frown.

“I’m afraid that I have to go back to my hotel.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to hide your disappointment. You quickly shake your head, “Thank you again. For catching me.”

Shigaraki smiles, “It was my pleasure. Thank you for spending time with me.”

“Of course. Happy early New Years.”

Shigaraki starts walking back, “Happy early New Years as well.”

He turns his shoulder and his clothes blend into the night. You thought he had disappeared until a small light waving around, indicated a goodbye.

You watch his figure walk away from you, forever lost in that empty darkness and you feel empty in your stomach.

That same feeling stays with you, all the way to your apartment. You couldn’t shake it off. You remember settling into your bed and staring at the roof above you, placing your hands on your stomach as if it could help the ache settle there.

It wasn’t until you reached over and picked up your phone did that ache leave.

“Is this Hizashi Yamada?” You start off. “If he isn’t on, could you relay this message? ”

The servant on the line affirms.

“This is from [Name]. Tell him that he’s welcome to have one of my hotels for his New Years Party and I’ll send him a telegram for the address. Yes, that will be all. Thank you.”

You place the phone down and get into your sheets again. It looks like you’ll be spending New Year's Eve at a party.

***

“When you told me this was going to be a party, I didn’t expect something this extravagant,” You tell Hizashi once you walked into the ballroom and noticed all the decorations. Streamers of iridescent gold and silver hung everywhere in the room. You notice the many golden spheres that hang low from the ceiling. Everything seemed like gold, the decorations reflecting one another.

Hizashi is dressed in a freshly pressed tux, the smell of lavender wafting all around him. He finally shaved of the stubble he had and slick backed his long blonde hair.

“Well it is New Years, [Name]. I gotta impress my guests! Thank you for helping me out as well. You picked a pretty nice venue, I’ll tell you that.”

You stuff your hands in your pockets and allow yourself to bathe yourself in all the lights, “I did didn’t I?”

You could say the manager for this particular hotel was confused by the telegram you sent in the early hours of the day. Nonetheless, they were able to pull through by clearing out the ballroom and having tables set up ready for the endless amounts of food. Employees were clearing the winding staircases and big white balloons were being added to the railings.

You raise your eyebrow at Hizashi, seeing two handymen pulling through a large platform.

Hizashi shrugs, “It’s for the musicians and the dancers. I like my entertainment comfortable and what better than a stage for them to perform on?”

You roll your eyes and mutter, “Entertainment. Might as well have this party at a strip club.”

Hizashi might be a friend, but he came from old money. He could never understand the lives of others beneath him, especially the “entertainment” that he paid for all his events and parties.

You felt sorry for all of them, but you knew better than to pity. You can relate to the hunger and need for just one more gig, one more opportunity, one more chance to make living better.

Now, you know that all that glitter was gold.

Hizashi says, “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, what did you say?”

You purse your lips, “Nothing. Is there anything else you need?”

Hizashi shakes his head, “No, I think I’ll be fine. My parents are coming to visit the place to see how the preparations are coming.”

You nod.

“Well I’m very glad you like the venue-” you start out.

“Of course I do! Your really pulled through for me [Name]! I thought that it would take more convincing than what I did, to let you do this favor,” Hizashi says with a nervous chuckle.

You had half the mind to just straight up tell him that it really wasn’t him, it was a particular stranger you met just hours before.

“Maybe you underestimate my generosity,” you offer instead.

Hizashi laughs, “Good one!”

With that you slowly back away from Hizashi, to the stairs and give him a wave goodbye.

First part of your day is finished, then it’s time for the party.

***

It seems that your time as a district manager for multiple luxury hotels never prepares you for the extravagance of the rich and the wealthy.

If you thought the early stages of the party preparations were grand, that paled in comparison to what you’re seeing right before your eyes.

You were at the top of the stairs, handing your white fur coat that Hizashi so charitably gave to you a couple months ago to a servant. You didn’t bother to stop and take a look, until after you got the coat off but boy was it worth it.

The chandeliers were lit and were hung low on the ceiling illuminating everything it touched, and honestly it felt like it did. The lights reflected the thousands of streamers everywhere, the shiny glasses, plates and platters stacked up and golden spheres. And of course, to match with the amazing interior was the people in it.

Everyone attending was wearing the most flashy attire, jewelry and accessories dangling and dripping from their bodies like they were their own personal ballroom decked out with their candles and chandeliers. Flashes of pearly blues and slated whites whizzed by your eyes, as wisps of smoke left the mouths of the party goers. Surrounded by all these gem studded figures that reeked of the smell of wealth and power, that you knew too well, it was chaos freeform, beauty with no limits.

Through the regular, untrained, innocent eye, they wouldn’t get past all the blinding lights. They would be awestruck. But you’ve seen everything through your way up the ladder. You knew that all this was smoke and mirrors, and that underneath all these diamonds and wealth were secrets, silent crimes.

Was it ironic that this party was a masquerade? It was like that for you. When you placed the feathery, white mask over your eyes, it was no different than you hiding, more like abandoning, so many parts of you for you to be accepted into this society.

You glance at the stairs and descend down, lifting your skirt carefully, the strands of beads clinking down the stairs.

It’s a smart tactic, you think glancing at all the masks people wore. Everyone had to be nice to each other, because they didn’t know who was who. Funny, it was New Years Eve, the last night of the year and you’re going to spend your time being someone else.

It should be easy.

You glance at the center of the ballroom and see the platform adorned with all sorts of glitter and lights, dancers performing to the jazz band. You see a man wearing a red suit, the jacket embroidered with sequins of gold and a half mask, colored black. Familiar blonde hair waves around under a conquistador costume hat catch your attention so you make your way there.

You slip in easily into Hizashi’s circle of friends you see he’s entertaining.

He’s talking animatedly, glass swishing furiously in his hand, “And by God, I was terrified because-”

He looks over his shoulder and sees you. You give a lift of your eyebrows in response.

Hizashi slings his hand over your shoulder and it's too late for you to leave.

Hizashi drunkenly slurs, “This is my friend, one of the best people on earth [Full Name].”

You awkwardly introduce yourself, “Pleasure to meet all of you.”

They nod in agreement, others tossing out introductions as well.

Hizashi flicks your forehead and you flinch back, “This wonderful person right here? Yeah they let me use this ballroom.”

Someone wearing what you think is a princess costume pipes up, “Oh, you own this chain of hotels?”

You reply, “No, but I'm the district manager of some of these hotels.”

The company oohs and ahhs, some affirm and nod at that revelation. As expected. Hopefully that’s all they ask before Drunk Hizashi says something stupid, you wishfully think.

A man wearing a raven costume turns to Hizashi, “I was made aware that you paid for the venue?”

Hizashi opens his mouth to speak but you jump in, “Yes he did. He owes me for all the times he was a sore loser at poker.”

To top it off you give them a gleaming smile and to your relief everyone laughed as well.

You say in a rush, “It was truly nice to meet you all, but I think Hizashi needs some water.”

With that you grab him by the shoulders and drag him over the food table.

You grab a glass of water and hand it to Hizashi, with which he stupidly downs quickly.

You say through gritted teeth, “What were you thinking? Drinking this early? You were about to out yourself.”

Hizashi smiles, “Yes but you saved me.”

He wags his fingers in approval, while you all but grimace.

“Don’t you think I’m done with saving your ass already? You could have outed yourselves and your parents!” You say in exasperation.

Hizashi rolls his eyes, “But I didn’t.”

You answer back, “But you could’ve.”

Hizashi says in a sing-song tone, “But I didn’t.”

You open your mouth to argue back but you close it, “There’s no point in arguing. But the fact of the matter is, you need to watch what you’re saying and who you’re saying too.”

Your eyes sternly gaze into Hizashi’s glazed ones. The longer you glare at him, the haziness in his eyes slowly dissipates.

This might be a masquerade but Hizashi was an open book, these sharks of businessmen would eat him alive if he said something off-kilter or spilled some secret.

Hizashi nods slowly and in shame he turns his gaze away from you. Your mind started to dance in happiness, Hizashi finally listened to your scolding.

Your victory, though, was a short one, for as soon as Hizashi blinked in embarrassment away from you he quickly sauntered over to a group of Three Musketeers who were ogling at the dancers.

You do your best to keep cool, willing to turn your emotions of frustration into disgust as you watch them stare and gawk at the dancers. It really took just a couple of fishnetted stockings and bold lips for these men to lose their sanity.

The best you can do for now is pray that Hizashi will be fine mingling on his own. You nervously look through the dessert table, deciding between the chocolate dipped strawberries or the mini custard. You decide to reach for the miniature custard, your newly manicured nails, dragging on the metal tray not noticing another hand reaching forward.

While you were in, God knows where, a man with a swan-like costume steps forward to the dessert table and attempts to grab a custard.

Your nails brush over his and in surprise you look up and meet this person’s eyes.

You couldn’t see anything, of course they were wearing a mask. You realized this person was a man, dressed in a fine white suit with patterns of sun and water, intricately stitched on the lapel and cuffs of the jacket. The stitching seemed like a pale blue, that went with the miniature wings attached to his back. His mask covered the right side of his face, or was it his left? You couldn’t really tell. The same pattern of stitching matched onto the white mask.

You scanned his face again. The side of his face you could see was an angled cheekbone, purple-y eyebags and red-brown like eyes. Wisps of hair, now more combed neatly than when you first met him, dangled in imperfectness on his forehead.

Your body seemed to let out a collective sigh, “Shigaraki?”

And in one second it started to tense up after you heard Shigaraki chuckle, the sound dry from a bit of drinking you presume, but nonetheless the only sound your ears want to hear tonight.

“It seems as if fate cannot keep us apart, [Name].”

You smile and snatch up a custard. He pouts and it was your turn to laugh.

“Fate? I think it’s just pure coincidence,” you say jokingly.

Shigaraki leans across the table, face inching closer to yours.

“If it was just a coincidence, why are you at this party? There are many New Years Eve parties, yet we are both at this one?”

He raises his eyebrow at you and you reply, “There are lots of people here.”

Shigaraki shrugs and he leans in impossibly close. His breath tickles your ear when he whispers.

Your face burns and your heart is beating erratically.

Not from this close proximity, but because you can hear his go as fast as yours too.

“Well, if you were not lying to me last night, you managed some hotels. It seems to me you not only attended the same party as I, but you actually took a part in making it happen.”

He steps back, suave as ever and stares at your disheveled face, “Am I wrong?”

You quickly compose yourself and step back, hands behind your back.

You turn your nose up, “You do know that there are countless hotels, yes? It’s a big city.”

You lean forward and give him a smirk of your own, “What would have been more accurate is if you had noticed that practically half of the city is here, and I just so happen to attend.”

Shigaraki scoffs, a low, raspy sound, “Trust me, [Name], just from the few moments I had the pleasure to make your acquaintance, your presence seems far more important than just being a regular partygoer.”

Your heart skips a beat at his statement. How dare he make you this uncomposed?

You clear your throat, “To answer your question, yes I did make it happen. I helped with the venue for this party, this hotel is one of the many I manage.”

Shigaraki nods thoughtfully, glancing around and spectating the ballroom. You notice how his hair gleamed silver with all these decorations. He truly looked the part of the elegant, majestic swan.

Suddenly Shigaraki walks over to your side of the table. You furrow your brows in surprise.

He sticks out his elbow, which you now notice has a partial attachment of a wing on it, the feathers pure white with streaks of black.

You slowly hook your arm into his, careful to remain a comfortable distance.

Shigaraki smiles, and you notice a slight dusting of pink on his otherwise pale face when you look up at him.

“Where are you going to lead me, Shigaraki?” You say, honestly.

Shigaraki stops to think, eyes honing into yours. His eyes squint, eyebrows furrow and you giggle at his pouty lips.

“What are you doing?” You say with a laugh.

Shigaraki answers with no humor, “Trying to figure out where you would like to go.”

His free hand twitches at his side, almost reaching out into the space between the both of you.

“It’s just so difficult when I can’t even see half of your face.”

His voice came in a low murmur, a steady hum might be quiet for others, but it was the only thing you could hear. Shigaraki notices it too, if the fidgeting with his fingers was anything to go by.

You murmur back, “Then maybe take me somewhere, where I can take off my mask.”

You don’t miss the nervous gulp Shigaraki takes when you say that. You squeeze his hand and his red eyes take on a look of determination.

“Allow me to lead the way,” he says after just a moment’s hesitation.

The two of you weave in and out of the circles and groups that occupy the room. It was a miracle how you both survived, not being stopped by colleagues to chat, no servers came to offer your food.

You were two swans gliding in that crowded ballroom, people moving away like ripples in a pond until Shigaraki led you to a set of glass doors.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

He looks at you in feign confusion, “You manage these hotels yet you don’t know there’s a balcony?”

Shigaraki excuses himself from some people in front of the balcony, head slightly tilted like a bow. You follow suit, eyes downcast as if you were embarrassed of being seen like this.

It wasn’t that you were embarrassed of being associated or seen with Shigaraki. You feel like it should be the other way around. Shigaraki had a godly presence of a man, and you were just another nobody in a sea of somebodies.

Shigaraki doesn’t ignore your body language, but doesn’t make a comment.

Shigaraki pulls open the door and slightly bows and brings his hand out. You let out a huff of a laugh and step outside, a gust of winter’s air rushing by.

Shigaraki quickly follows and watches your face.

You speak first, “I do know that there’s a balcony here. I’m just surprised you knew where it was.”

Shigaraki shrugs, “It’s the first thing I looked for when I came here. Somewhere to rest. Sort of like your bridge.”

He takes a step forward and leans on the railing and you reel from the sense of dejavu that permeates your body.

“Unfortunately, I travel a lot for business so I do not have the pleasure of having a place to go to all the time. I have to find one wherever I go, no matter how long I stay there.”

He glances at you, a shadow falling on his face, feather-like brushes of darkness that cover his open half of his face. Your fingers itch to take off that damn mask so you could see that face entirely and wonder what he’s thinking with those tired, beautiful eyes.

You shake your head, “It’s not my place. I don’t think I ever had one. When I lived down there.”

You gesture with your head, at the fading lights and the view from the river.

Then you point with your thumb back, not taking a glance behind, “Or over there.”

Shigaraki inches forward toward you and you don’t move away. You don’t think you’ve ever opened up to someone like this, not your family, not your “friends”, let alone with a stranger wearing a mask.

You could blame it all on the fact you were a little tipsy, that the lights and the glamor phased you. Maybe you succumbed to the pressure of taking risks since it was the end of the year. But you know, deep down you want someone to understand the burden you carry. The pasts you tried to bury. Secrets you are ashamed of telling, reasons as to why you do certain things.

Someone to take off the mask you have sacrificed your life for, to craft and to perfect. Making and wearing that mask wasn’t worth it in the end, and you regret doing it in the first place. Was it selfish of you to ask for some mercy for the regrets you have today?

Slowly, fingers are outstretched towards your face. Your instincts tell you to flinch, but your body is being pulled by them. Shigaraki’s fingers stop at the surface of your mask, tips dancing over the rhinestones.

“We are all alone here,” he starts out. “Take off your mask and I will take off mine.”

You nod, a sense of relief washes over your body but at the same time a feeling of nervousness rushes through.

You know what he meant when he said to take off the mask, you think as you remove the mask from your face, untying the unnecessary knots you made behind your ears. He’s seen you calm and vulnerable before, but would he like what was truly underneath it all?

Shigaraki watches your movements with an odd rapture, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You turn away, hoping he didn’t catch your abrupt movements. After you take off your mask, you clutch it tightly in your hands while Shigaraki follows suit.

You oblige your greedy mind and let your eyes wander and watch as Shigaraki unravels his face and you are blessed with the sight of seeing everything. The brown-red eyes. The lavender crescent moons under his eyes. You even notice stray hairs that were caught between his mask that now dance and billow on his forehead and cheekbones, like wispy clouds.

Shigaraki says, “I understand what you mean. When you said you had no place.”

You look at Shigaraki trying to cover up your surprise.

He gives you a small smile, “I did not grow up like some of these people. My parents both worked. We did not have a grand home that hosted lavish parties. I did not have the money to receive a higher education. There was a great divide between me, and the people over there when I was younger.”

Shigaraki takes a deep breath, albeit shakily, “It was not until I got older, that I decided I needed to be like this people. Have this money, have this lifestyle. A life where I did not have to live paycheck by paycheck. I wanted money, but I also wanted time. I dedicated most of my teenage years studying and working in internships for big companies.”

He shrugs, “I got what I wanted. One of my internships led me to do international business affairs as one of the top leaders of the company, and now all I ever get to do is attend lavish parties such as these.”

You watch Shigaraki’s body language. The confident stature of a man you saw in the ballroom was gone, replaced by a man worn down by years of work, years of time spent.

Before you could even think, you hesitantly place a hand over his, rubbing with your thumb his fingers as if you could comfort him.

Shigaraki’s eyes widen, the most you’ve ever seen looked surprised but he quickly composes himself and his body didn’t seem to slump but rather relax in your touch.

“I think that is why I was so drawn to you at the park,” he says nonchalantly.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Shigaraki’s pale face takes on a pink hue, “Well-”

“Well..?” You press on.

Shigaraki’s voice takes on a nervous tone, “Well, before I had to save you from falling, which is quite embarrassing by the way I cannot believe you could not catch that hat.”

You scold him playfully, “Do not change the subject on me Shigaraki.”

He laughs, “Before I had to save you, I may or may not have been watching you as I was making my way down the bridge.”

Now it was your turn to blush. Shigaraki sees your expression and exclaims, “See this is embarrassing! Now you know I was staring at you!”

You laugh it off, “More embarrassing than me falling off because of a hat?”

Shigaraki pouts and you want to photograph that expression into your brain for forever.

“Anyways, what I was trying to get across was that-”

Shigaraki stopped talking, and his voice fell flat. He turns to you with rapt attention.

“You stood at that bridge, like you’ve been there before but your appearance, the way you walked, your mannerisms. They weren’t of that place. You knew where to look, where to walk but when we talked last night it seemed that you were taking everything in for the first time.”

You feel like your circulation has been cut off, you momentarily stop rubbing your thumb on his hand.

You feel Shigaraki doing it back to you and you start to breathe again.

“Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to you. Because I feel as if you understand me,” He says finally, in a whisper.

You finally speak, “My parents, just after they got married decided to immigrate here. I grew up in a very different way than most, if not all, of these people here.”

You were always on the outside looking in. Your mother was a housekeeper, so you always had that constant reminder as a child that you were below these people. It left a significant influence on you that turned into determination, ambition, then into this old, festering piece of garbage.

You take in a breath, “I gave up a lot of things for a lifestyle like this. Family, a community, a home for me. I regret it. ”

Shigaraki watches you with caring eyes and you continue, “When I’m surrounded by people, they’re not people anymore. They’re business transactions, clients, ways to make more money, wealth, more growth. When I strived for power and a place in this world I didn’t realize-”

“Realize that there’s no humanity here,” Shigaraki says.

You shrug, “A bit morbid but yes.”

Shigaraki laughs at your banter and you laugh too.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence again, an echo of your conversation the night before.

This time you break the silence, “What time is it?”

Shigaraki glances at his wrist, “Almost midnight actually. A couple more minutes until the new year.”

You nod thoughtfully, “You know how people make resolutions for the next year?”

You turn to meet Shigaraki’s eyes and they dance playfully in recognition of what you’re going to propose.

He doesn’t assume though, instead plays dumb and teasingly replies, “Yes?”

You cheekily smile back, “Would you like to make some resolutions with me for the next year?”

Shigaraki leans forward, catching you in surprise and nods rather eagerly.

“How should we do this then? I don’t suppose you have paper and a writing utensil with you?” Shigaraki says, tilting his head downward towards you.

Despite everything your brain is telling you to do, your body betrays you and you magnetically lean forward.

“No I do not, so I guess we cannot sign a contract or papers tonight. I suppose we have to trust each other’s word,” You say with an air of finality.

Shigaraki ponders thoughtfully, eyes still trained on your face.

“I suppose we do.”

You open up first, your voice coming out in reverence, “I want to make an effort to reconnect with my family, and old friends.”

Shigaraki nods, “I think mine is similar to yours. I want to reconnect with the things that I left behind.”

You reply, “Hmmm… I also want to connect with new people too. Have real, sincere relationships. Built on things unseen and not signatures and paper.”

Shigaraki gives you a lopsided smile, “I think you already did that, [Name].”

This time you’re surprised. Your eyes squint in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Shigaraki’s smile grows impossibly wider, “Well you and I are connected, are we not?”

You let out a nervous laugh, “Please… I barely know you.”

Shigaraki leans in and gives a smirk, “That is perfect. Because I, too, also barely know you.”

He leans in closer, dangerously so. Strands of his hair are blown by the wind, tickling your cheek ever so faintly. You could feel the soft inhale and exhale of his breath close to your ear, but at the same time you could hear his heartbeat, the polar opposite of what his breath’s rhythm was.

“Maybe for another New Year’s resolution we should get to know each other better. No papers, documents, contracts at all,” he says in a soft, lulling whisper.

He pulls back from you, just enough that the tips of your noses barely touch.

There was no smirking, smiles, blushes or anything of the sort. Both of you looked at each other with a strong intensity that ringed in yearning and truth.

22! 21! 20! 19!

Your ears pick up on the countdown from inside, but your focus remains on Shigaraki.

“Shigaraki?” you ask softly, lips almost brushing his.

He hums in response, the vibrations sending shocks throughout your body.

“I have another New Year's Resolution,” you say, looking up at him through hooded eyes.

Shigaraki nods and whispers, “I think I have one too.”

14! 13! 12! 11!

You feel fingers sliding from your hips to the small of your back. They grip onto you and pull you closer. Shigaraki inhales shakily, featherlight, and delicately. You smile inside, knowing his actions mirrored the nervousness that was festering inside of him as well as yours.

He brushes stray hair that got caught in the wind from your face, thumb lingering on your cheek to stroke it, “I do think though…”

You look up at him through your lashes, eyes glued to his.

“That I will be able to do my New Years Resolution, right now.”

5! 4! 3! 2!-

Despite your preference for something slow and steady, your greediness overtook your body and governed your actions. Before Shigaraki could even say anything else, your hands immediately grab his tie and pull you closer. You press your mouth to his in a slight rush.

You feel his body go rigid, but it immediately relaxes, hands gripping you instinctively as if he’s known you for lifetimes before. He rubs his thumbs on your hips in a comforting, circular motion and your hands relax from its stiffness. Your hands opt to travel up his face, placing them on his angular cheekbones and practically squeezing them. You feel the ends of his lips curl into a slight smile and that small opening gives Shigaraki the opportunity to kiss you back.

You feel absolutely elated, your body light and free as if suspended in the air, no heels or heavy drapes of beads to weigh you down. Just Shigaraki’s lips, hands, eyes, words…. Just him.

You were disappointed when you feel your lips disconnect, your lips turning into a frown. Shigaraki laughs out loud, head thrown back and hair flowing. He tilts his head toward the sky and it was until then you realize why he pulled back.

The dark night was filled with fireworks. Everywhere. Purple flowers blooming to your right, green hearts and red water drops near the water. The chaotically harmonious sound of firecrackers and cheers from inside and outside filled your ears.

Shigaraki comes up from behind you and wraps his arms around you, whispering into your ear, “Happy New Years.”

You turn to look at a big, crooked smile, and floppy, flowing hair.

“Happy New Years,” you say back, before diving in for another kiss, to celebrate the New Year.

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e-jaegerenthusiast · 3 years

Note

I am on my knees angie sama PLEASE write a smut with toji/nanami au as mafia🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

how about i give you both, baby?

compelling venom

mafia boss!nanami x f!reader, bodyguard!toji x f!reader

nanami art -> @ shinner_cxi toji art -> @ alamortarin

warnings/tw; smut, drugging, knife play, gun play, slight blood play, bondage (rope), bondage (chains), choking, foot job if you really squint, edging, overstimulation, cream pie, mouth fucking...ec

summary; you’re a spy trying to get information on a certain mafia group’s deals. to what levels do they take you?

w.c; 9.3k

you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the song playing in your room as you touched up on your makeup, singing the lyrics softly “i’m gonna fight ‘em all” you looked at your reflection in the mirror, hair up into a neat bun as your hair stick pierced through it, your eyes sharp with black eyeliner and lips red with lipstick.

golden thin chain stuck to your neck and the red dress sticking to your body, showing all your curves in the right ways. “a seven nation army couldn’t hold me back” you smirked to yourself as you fixed the straps of your black heels and started walking outside, you sat in the limo that your boss had sent.

checking if you had the knives strapped to your thigh under your short dress, small packet of sodium pentothal in your heels, and microchip in your earring.

the limo came to a halt, before you could get out, the driver with square shaped glasses caught your attention with his nervous voice, “m’lady..” your head snapping towards him with a raised brow, he handed you a black mask, littered with glittering black jewels all around it, “it’s a masquerade event.”

you chuckled as you grabbed the mask, “what a madman, a masquerade in a casino? is he serious?” ijichi chrugged, “not to mention ryoumen forgot to tell me this— ugh whatever, thank you, ijichi.” you brought your index and middle finger to your eyes and flickered it at him before putting the mask on and getting out of the limousine.

the chilly breeze hit your bare thighs as you made your way to the entrance of the casino. the gaurds at the door gave you a raise of their eyebrows, you pulled out a maroon colored card and handed it to one of them, with a nod of his head he opened the large door for you and handed you the card.

loud music and chatter of people filled your ears as you entered the dim-lit casino, the lights of the slot machines and the dance floor lighting the area up with their vibrant colors. you shook your head, this is not a time to get distracted. you need to focus.

as per usual, you were given a lot of information before beginning your operation. the mafia group you were assigned with was an extremely large and dangerous one, not only because they were of russian origin but also because their leader was the most calm, yet sharp man. he barely showed his face anywhere, all you knew was that you should be looking for a blonde, Kento Nanami.

they were called the ‘barkhatnye kobra’ in russian, meaning ‘velvet cobras’. you were told that the matching cobra snake tattoos their group has could be of help when looking for the man. however, you doubted he would have his tattoo were it could easily be seen, he was known as a sharp man for a reason.

squinting your eyes beneath the black mask, you searched the room for any hints of blonde hair, not just any blonde hair, he would definitely be dressed fancier than others, bodyguards would also be following him around everywhere.

a smile snuck onto your lips as you saw a blonde haired man, a bodyguard next to him as he seemed to be talking to a few elderly men. he had a black mask on, his dirty blonde hair falling to his forhead. black and white tuxedo hugging his large form.

you press down on your earring, whispering into your hand, “i think i found him,” walking over to his table, the click of your heels being drowned in the noise and music around you. he shots you a look, excusing himself from talking as he gets to the other side of the table where you stand. you raise a brow, had he know who you are? was he many steps ahead of you?

he bows down and takes your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss onto it, “m’lady,” you blink repeatedly, was this really the infamous velvet cobras’ leader? his voice was so—whiny. you pulled your hand away from his grasp, “do i know you, mister?” he gave you a grin, leaning against the table with his elbow, “everybody knows me, sweetie.” he said, pride filling his voice.

you covered your mouth with the back of your hand, not wanting your laugh to be seen by him as he stumbled back onto a woman holding a drink behind him, spilling the drink the she was holding all over the floor and himself. he let out a frustrated groan, turning around, “what the hell?! can you not see i’m standing here you brainless thot!?”

the woman gasped, before you could even blink, her hand had connected with his cheek, giving him a firm slap as everyone around them looked at the interaction, some whispering and some covering their mouths. the woman stormed off, leaving the dirty blonde a frowning mess.

“you’ll pay for this! how dare you slap a zen’in?! me, naoya of all!” you shook your head, if you knew he wasn’t the one you were looking for, you were definitely confident now. you turned on your heels and walked away before he could notice, being too occupied looking down at his ruined tuxedo and muttering curses to himself.

you pressed down on your ear again, whispering, “false alarm, need to look for him again.” a deep groan could be heard from the other side, “come on now, have you gotten rusty with your work, y/n?” you ignored his voice, obvious he was your boss, he could get cocky sometimes.

your eyes began scanning the room again, you would see blondes here and there but none of them would catch your eye. your eyes wandered upwards, the casino had a second floor. you could barely see the second floor, but you could see the railings of it, a tall big guy was leaning against them, his arms hanging off as he rested his elbows on the railing. jet black hair fell to his forehead, broad shoulders with biceps too large for his own good, hooded dark eyes behind the matte black phantom mask that covered half of his face, and a sharp jawline. a black button-up shirt was hugging his large form, he looked like a fucking gorilla in size. you gulped, he moved his head to the side, as if hearing someone call for him, the veins of his neck flexing with the action. his neck. the head of a snake could be seen creeping it’s way onto his neck, ending right below his ear from under his shirt. bingo. you smiled, mentally patting yourself on the back.

you swiftly moved along the crowd of people infront of the staircase, trying to make your way up before you bumped into a firm chest, “i’m sorry sir i—“ your eyes were met with the same man that was standing across the railings seconds ago, a scar on the side of his lips could be seen now as you looked up at him.

he raised a brow, “going somewhere, madam?” you nibbled on the inside of your cheeks, you had to think quick. “yes, i was going to meet someone upstairs, they told me to.” he crossed his arms, the muscle of his arms flexing against the tight black shirt he was wearing, “and who is that? upstairs is highly restricted for maroon card guests.”

your eyes scanned his face, he was serious, there was no messing with this guy. “naoya, uhm yeah. naoya..zen’in.” the side of his mouth formed up into a smirk, his scar getting bigger if that was even possible. “zen’in huh? naoya invited you upstairs?” you took a breath in, “yes. yes he did, he told me to get up there and he would follow me shortly.”

“I have to check something, stay here.” he looked you up and down with a smug expression, heading up the stairs again. your time was limited, you had to think quick if you wanted to win. you turned around, your eyes scanning the room as to scan your options and your thoughts, until you saw a waitress with a tray of drinks.

making your way over to her, you gave her a makeshift sweet smile, “hey? can I please have the whole tray?” the tray had four drinks on it, she looked at you returning the smile “oh! of course but, wouldn’t you want me to bring it for you ma’am?” you held your arms out to grab the tray from her, “no thank you, I’ll take it myself.” with a nod of her head she gave the tray to you.

you walked over to a corner, standing next to a slot machine. you put the tray on a small table next to you, leaning down to pretend to fix the straps of your heels, brining out a small packet of the drug you had hid in them earlier, truth serum. with a flick of your wrist, the powder fell into one of the glasses of champagne. smiling, you grabbed the tray and made your way to the other side of the room again.

you looked around yourself, looking for a certain annoying man. as if he had read your mind, the dirty blonde’s gaze was already on you from across the room. you smiled, forcing back a gag, as you beckoned for him with your head to follow you, making your way back to the staircase again.

as if on cue, the big guy showed up too, making his way down the stairs as he looked at you with furrowed brows, his gaze going behind you. you turned around, seeing naoya as he made no move to help you with the tray you were holding, instead leaning forward to grab a glass of champagne from it, chugging it as he put the glass back on the tray.

you scoffed, did he grab the right drink? or was his luck that bad to grab the one bad one out of the four? naoya licked his lips, looking between you and the velvet haired man, “fushiguro, how have you been? how’s the new group going? you happier there, fucker?” you raised your brows, looking at fushiguro.

fushiguro just rolled his eyes, grabbing the tray of drinks from your hand, and going up the stairs, “follow me then, doll. don’t let that scumbag come up though.” you looked back at naoya at the same time as the deep voice yelled from up the stairs, “you know the fucking rules zen’in! step up here and you’re dog meat.”

you gave a nervous laugh to naoya, tapping his shoulders as you made your way up stairs, giving him a salute with your fingers. “another time then, zen’in.” you followed the handsome bodyguard upstairs, leaving naoya dumbfounded, the man wondering what the fuck just happened.

you followed behind the man with big broad shoulders with steady steps, he guided you through the groups of people that were upstairs. they all looked either posh, or outright dangerous. this is where you could see him, if fushiguro wasn’t already taking you to him.

you were getting nervous, what if they did something to you? that’s when you remembered, pressing on your ear once and whispering “going in.” fushiguro was a sharp bodyguard, he turned around, raising a brow, “what’d you say, doll?”

you gave a chaste smile, “I said uhm, where are we going?”

you knew if something happened to you, if you weren’t heard of by the next 3 hours, your boss would do something. so you took a deep breath and forced all the anxious thoughts to go away.

he gave you a smirk, “well if you wanted to really see that zen’in bastard I don’t think you would have followed me would you? so don’t play innocent, doll. ‘kay?” he turned around and started walking again before you could answer him.

you arrived at a dark wooden door, he opened it for you, motioning for you to go in, you took a step forward, looking around the room. it was brightly lit, which made you squint your eyes slightly, expensive furniture decorated the room, silk golden curtains being pushed aside as the city’s view could be seen, being background to the form of a man.

he was blonde. standing facing towards the large window as it covered the whole wall, both of his hands resided in his pockets, you could make out a white button-up shirt hugging his back, even his presence was intimidating. you could hear your own pulse banging in your ears and yet, he somehow seemed calm, that was never a good thing.

his smooth voice filled the air, almost making you flinch “did you bring the beautiful lady, fushiguro?” you stilled, looking next to you at the large man, humming in response to his boss as he set the tray of drinks on the small table in the middle of the room.

he finally turned around, his dark orbs locking with yours immediately, yet half his face was hidden under a phantom mask similar to his bodyguards, the only difference being that it was golden. you could barely see half of his lips and one side of his cheek, sharp cheekbone standing out. straight blonde locks were styled up, a strand or two falling to his forehead. he didn’t even look blonde, it was a color you couldn’t put your finger on, it looked— angelic, even for a devil like him.

his hands went to the back of his head, triceps flexing, your eyes involuntarily went to his stomach, being disappointed when his shirt didn’t ride up, when his skin didn’t show because the shirt was already tucked in his pants.

when you looked back up, his mask was long gone. his nose upward as he fixed his eyebrows with the tip of his fingers, both cheekbones now showing for you to stare at, thin yet soft looking lips fully shown. he hummed as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your bare legs and your cleavage.

he brought his hand forward, holding it infront of you as you grabbed it. he pulled you towards himself slowly, walking back until he was pressed up against the small table, you standing directly infront of him. “keep your eyes on me, and take your mask off.” his smooth voice seemed to startle you everytime he spoke.

you stared up at him, trying to figure out which color his eyes were— but before you could decipher, with a squeeze of your hand in his, you were brought back to reality. using both your hands, you untied the knot behind the back of your head easily, no hair in the way as it was all in a neat bun. you kept your eyes on his just as he asked, not wanting to take your chances.

he let out a deep breath, the aroma of him making you dizzy, he smelt like leather. your eyes were diverted to fushiguro behind him, rummaging with something. but before you could get a look, icy slender fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your gaze back onto him, “uh uh uh, what’d I tell you? are you not good at taking orders, sweetheart?”

you swallowed, giving a nervous smile. he stared at your face, running his fingers on the underside of your chin, until he startled you again with his voice before his movements, “right, shall we have a taste of the drinks you brought for us then? since the waitresses obviously aren’t doing their job?”

he wraps his long fingers around one of the champagne glasses, holding it out to you. the liquid fizzing inside. champagne shouldn’t be fizzing this far into getting it. he definitely had fushiguro put something it. shit—

he smiles at you as you grab it, he brings his own glass and clings it with yours, “you serve me a drink I serve you one too, it’s only fair hm?” his eyes burning on your skin as you take a sip of the champagne.

the burn of his eyes is the last thing you remember seeing, the cling of the glasses and the sound of his smooth voice the last thing you heard. you felt like you were dead, yet you could hear everything going on around you, but you weren’t aware of it, couldn’t make anything of it, couldn’t register it fully.

you slowly opened your eyes, your vision blurry as you blinked a few times, looking up as you tried to move your hands, the tight ropes above your head not letting you. you looked down again, you were still wearing your dress, thankfully. it wouldn’t be like the calculated man to be a rapist, even if he was a killer or a dealer.

you sighed, looking around the room, it was cold and dark, the walls made of metal— it looked like a basement, maybe a workshop? lots of tools everywhere, thought you couldn’t exactly see what they were from where you were sitting on a chair.

your legs were both untied, you moved them around a bit, your dress shifting up your leg and showing your bare thighs, your knives were gone. they thigh strap was gone— he took it. dropping your head down, you sighed in defeat, your eyes lighting up with an idea, but before you could move another muscle, you could hear the creak of the metal door infront of you.

your body tensed, hands ready to attack even though they were restrained. Nanami walked in, fushiguro walking in after him, standing by the door as nanami took a chair, placing it infront of you backwards, sitting with his legs on each side, his chin resting on his arms as he inspected you, your eyes looking at him with a furious look.

the silence was threatening, until the flick of a lighter coming from fushiguro could be heard, his steps getting closer as he put a cigarette between nanami’s lips, bringing the lighter under it to light it up for him before he went to stand next to the door again. nanami took a puff, blowing the smoke in your face as your nose scrunched up.

he looked down at your bare thighs, your dress no longer covering them from your previous shifting around, “coming to my event, with knives around your thighs, for me.” he looked back up at your face, but your gaze was no longer on him, looking at his bodyguard instead.

nanami’s voice was like a guidance to you, a guidance you didn’t want to follow yet seemed to everytime, “don’t look at him,” your gaze came back to him, a stoic expression on his face, “why ‘you looking at him? he’s not gonna help you,” your breaths were uneven as you kept your eyes on his face, the way the cigarette looked sinful between his lips, “look at me, there you go.”

you looked up at your tied hands, moving your arms a bit and then looking back at him, as if to plead without using words, oh but nanami was a man of words, he loved playing with them. he took a last puff of his cigarette before he threw it on the floor, stomping on it as he stood up from his chair, his hands starting to unbutton his white shirt. “toji, get out would you?”

you felt nauseous as toji left the room, giving you a wink on his way out. maybe it was because of the fear, or the thrill of what he would do to you. he didn’t seem like a man that hurts women, even if he’s a ruthless mafia leader. but then again, you could be wrong about all your speculations. oh he was gonna hurt you alright, just not in the way it had crossed your mind.

he opened the last button of his shirt, but he didn’t take it off. you stared at him, several scars seem to litter his chest, some being hidden under a large tattoo. you squinted your eyes, it was a cobra. you could see it’s fangs and tongue peeking out his shirt.

he took slow steps towards you, as if sizing you up like a leopard, and you were the bambi. he kicked away the chair he sat on previously, making you flinch. he leaned his head towards you, his brows furrowed as you looked at him, gaze unmoving. his face was only about an inch away from you now, his aroma hitting you with every breath he took.

“what? can’t take your eyes away from me now? what are you looking for? a cobra?” he moved one side of his shirt, revealing more of the tattoo, it covered his whole shoulder, possible even his bicep. “you found it now, it’s me.” his voice rose goosebumps on your skin, your thighs pressing together.

his gaze went down to your thighs, the muscles barely hiding your black underwear. you gasped as you felt a long finger tugging at the waistband of them, right against your hip. “were you tasked to sleep with me? hm?” you shook your head, and his touch was gone as soon as it had been there.

he walked to the small table in the corner of the room, his shirt completely falling down as he touched some things on the table. his back muscles contracting, he didn’t seem to have any scars there, only smooth skin that you couldn’t stop staring at.

he looked at you from over his shoulder, the side of his lips raising a little. he made his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your throat and wrapping his slender fingers around your neck, yet not adding any pressure.

he had a tight grip, tilting his head and observing you as you trembled slightly. he brought something in front of your face, “lay your eyes on this, bambi.” you looked at the object, it was one of the small daggers in your thigh strap from before.

he swinged it infront of your face, “is this what you were gonna paint my blood in?” you opened your mouth to speak, yet his thumb went over your lips, pressing down softly as he shushed you. “did i say you could spe—“ you cut him off, biting his thumb as he hissed in pain.

he pulled his hand back, observing it with furrowed brows before he tutted. moving closer to you again, he slowly ran the blade along the skin of your thighs. making you tense up, closing your eyes. “you really shouldn’t have done that.”

he circled the blade around your knee, his other hand next to your head on the wall, helping him lean above you. “don’t you know,” he ran the blade back up your leg, getting closer to your inner thighs. “there are always consequences for our actions?”

something flashed in his eyes as you kept your gaze on them, and a second later, you felt something push into you from over your underwear, touching your clit through the fabric. you saw his arm move before he did it, your eyes closed, letting out a scream. he had stabbed you there, you were sure of it, then why was the stinging pain not coming?

you opened your eyes, panic filling your features and your body shaking as you slowly looked down at yourself, you were prepared to see blood, a lot of it. and as your eyes fixed between your own thighs, you did see blood. yet it wasn’t yours.

the handle of the dagger was pressed into your clit through your underwear, yet the blade was in between nanami’s palms. blood dripped from in between his fingers down to your inner thighs, raising goosebumps on your skin with each drop.

you looked up at him with tears brimming in your eyes, the panic washing away as you knew you weren’t hurt. his features were unmoving, his eyes dark as he watched you closely, it was as if the stinging in his palm wasn’t even phasing him, the pain nothing compared to all the scars he has had to endure on his body throughout his dangerous life.

he tilted his head again, a small smirk residing on his lips, “you didn’t think that low of me did you?” his smooth voice made you sigh, or was it you breathing again? you couldn’t tell as your head tilted back, hitting the wall, your arms flexing from the pain of staying above your head for so long.

you looked back at him again as he completely stood up, throwing the dagger on the tray atop the table, grabbing a bottle of liquid and showering his injured palm with it, hissing slightly and wrapping piece of cloth around it.

he looked back at you, moving closer again. his gaze went down to your bloody thighs, “tsk tsk, look at you,” you blinked, shifting your thighs uncomfortably. “got blood all over yourself and your boss’ palm, what a ruthless little thing.”

you felt your blood boiling, you could feel your pulse all over your body, even down there. this shouldn’t be turning you on as much as it is. blood is something sinful, something dirty, something agonizing and terrifying. yet why was it turning you on so much? was it the color? or all those words itself?

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again, shouting at him at the top of your lungs as you tried to replace arousal with anger. “you’re not my damn boss! what the fuck are you doing? let me fucking go!”

he seemed to be taken aback by your sudden outburst, raising his brows before he chuckled darkly, “yeah? then who is it? c’mon, give me his name.” smart bastard.

you groaned, shaking your tied hands above your head, “I’ll be killed if i tell you! i’m just a damn pawn in this game of drugs and murder.” you attempted at manipulating him, making your voice tremble on purpose, tears gathering up in your eyes as you tried your best at your act.

he leaned down again, his hand going down to grab at your thigh, getting blood on the healthy palm, “a pawn huh? a pawn doesn’t have thigh straps with daggers attached to them around her pretty little thighs,”

he moved his hand up slightly, his pinky barely touching your clothed center, “and plus,” his face moved closer to you, looking in your eyes “who said I won’t kill you instead?” his breath hit your face from him being so close, making you dizzy, how did his breath smell like leather? what the fuck?

here he was, threatening your life, yet you were fawning over his smell. a smug smirk came onto your features, your fake tears now nowhere to be found as you spoke in a low voice, “you wouldn’t.”

his face got closer to yours, your noses touching as your breath caught in your throat, but before you could close the distance, you were met with his neck, his lips brushing your ear as you could smell all of him.

he whispered against the shell of your ear, making you tremble visibly, “there are a lot of ways to actually kill a person without killing them, doll.” before you could react, your underwear was rolled to the side, your thighs opening up involuntarily as two of his long fingers pressed against your now bare clit.

you bit down on your bottom lip as you trembled, he left little kisses on the back of your ear, slowly moving down your neck, nibbling and biting, leaving red marks that would eventually turn purple. he never stopped the slow circulating motions on your clit as he marked all over your neck, soft pants leaving your lips.

he gave a small bite to your collarbone, his voice teasing as he spoke, “you don’t have to necessarily take their life to kill them,” he bit down again, his fingers slightly speeding up on your clit. “you can humiliate them,” he sucked on the skin above your dress, right above your chest. “you can give them everything,”

his fingers on your clit moved down to your hole, the pad of one of them slightly entering you as your thighs shook in pleasure, your moan was cut short as he pulled away completely, his fingers gone from your cunt, his smooth lips from above your chest. “and take it from them.” he gave you a teasing smirk as he stood before you.

you groaned pathetically, moving your arms and legs like a child deprived from some candy. he chuckled, the muscles of his abs slightly contracting as you stared at them with a watering mouth.

he took his two fingers that were on you previously, and sucked them in his mouth, humming as he did so. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you closed them, sighing out of frustration. yet you could hear some shuffling on the metallic tray.

you opened your eyes, looking down at his torso while he shuffled with the back of his pants, the sight of his bulge was soon taken away from your sight as his hand wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him with doe eyes.

“you know what another way is to kill someone?” his eyes searched your face, expecting an answer to which you defeatingly shook your head. you could hear the clinging of a gun, you tried to look at where the noise was coming from but his hand kept a firm grip on your throat, limiting your gaze to his features only, his slightly furrowed brows, the few strands of angelic blonde hair falling to his damp forhead, the sight of his buttom lip caught between his teeth. he was probably threatening your life and yet, why did he look so good doing it?

you made a bold move, leaning towards him and smashing your lips against his. his lips were smooth, and they tasted like heaven. like sin, like a burning fire that traveled all throughout your body. his grip on your throat tightened, and he welcomed your wet tongue into his mouth, but he was still not kissing you back properly, his mouth only slightly moving so you could move your lips against him.

he grunted, biting down on your bottom lip while pulling you back by your throat, his eyes closed as you took the sight of his face in again. crimson covered his lips, to which you were confused by until you figured it out to be from your red lipstick. you had left a mark on him, no matter how insignificant, no matter how small. you had his lips covered with something of yours, and it made you feel proud all over.

he opened his eyes, grip still on your throat. he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and that’s when you saw the gun he was holding. your eyes widened, he could feel you swallow beneath his palm. with a sadistic smirk, he ran the barrel of the gun down your collarbone, tracing it as he brought it down to your chest.

your heart was beating fast, your eyes shutting and opening repeatedly, he could feel your pulse quicken beneath his fingers as he traced your nipples with the barrel of his gun. you whimpered, the hardening buds of your chest hurting with the soft movements he made with the tip of the gun. your hands were shaking above your head, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. he pressed his knee down on to your thighs, your legs opening for him like his property.

he could feel the heat coming from your cunt, dampening the fabric of his pants as he pressed his knee onto your cunt, “this is turning you on, yeah?” his voice was like satin to your ears, so stimulating in the best and worst ways possible. you shuddered and grinded your hips on to his knee in response, earning a deep chuckle from him as he pressed the gun under your chest, right above your fast beating heart.

he spoke to you in a low tone, his voice bouncing off the metal walls and going straight to your core, “you see, another way to kill a person without killing them,” he pressed his knee further into you, a soft moan filling his ear with the action. “is to drive them crazy between two emotions.”

with that, he pressed the gun further into your chest, it was painful, but it was soon overthrown by the stinging feeling of his hands tightening around you throat, stopping your intake of breath as your eyes widened and tears fell down your cheeks. he moved his knee against your clit simultaneously, your whimpers switching between pleasure and fear.

it was pathetic. he made you look pathetic under him, like putty in his hands, completely under his control and at his mercy. while you didn’t know whether to be scared for your life, or enjoy the little pleasure that he was giving you, making you get high on it. making you crave more.

he loosened his grip on your throat slightly, giving you permission to breathe. “if you tell me who your boss is,” he stopped pressing the gun into your chest, taking his hand that was around your throat before, and traveling it down your body, resting it on your clit and rubbing slowly. “i’ll make you cum.”

he continued for a few seconds before pulling his hand away, his fingers coated in your glistening arousal. he pressed the gun into your chest again as you whimpered, “if not, well let’s just say your pretty little heart will be the only thing getting penetrated tonight, yeah?” he said with a dry chuckle.

you gave him a lazy smile, looking straight into his dark, narrowed eyes as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer with the action. “kento nanami” you whispered, his face only millimeters away from yours. “that’s my boss’ name.”

you could feel his thick bulge pressing into you, yet you couldn’t tell if the wetness was from you, or was it him that was leaking precum by now. you grinded yourself onto his erection, his breath getting caught in his throat as his eyes scrunched shut, and when you pressed a wet kiss on his collarbone, that’s when he snapped.

he grunted, thrusting his hips into you once, making you cry out loud before pulling away completely, leaving you a panting, crying, wet mess on the chair. he threw his white shirt over his shoulders, giving you a scoff as he left the room quickly. what was up with him?

you took a few seconds to control your breathing, then quickly took out the hair stick in your bun with your still tied hands, your silky hair falling onto your shoulders. if you excluded all the throbbing pain in your muscles, you were lucky that he had tied your hands above your head, giving you easy access to your last resort.

you began moving the hair stick in your hands, the sharp edges of the convenient little thing tearing at the rope little by little. after a while, the rope finally tore completely, finally freeing both your aching wrists.

you were a mess as you got up, rubbing your wrists with your hands in an attempt to soothe the swollen skin, nanami’s blood on your thighs, panties to the side. you fixed your dress as you walked on wobbly feet, holding the sharp hair stick behind you as you made a turn to get out of the room.

your relief was cut short when you bumped into a firm chest, deja vu hit you as you looked up, this was the second time you were bumping into his large chest tonight. this time however, instead of an annoyed look, his features turned into a teasing smirk, moving towards you like a black panther.

you moved back into the room with slow steps, your back hitting the wall and the sharp hair stick you were holding falling down to the ground with a cling that filled the room. his gaze went down, chuckling as he put on of his hands beside your head on the wall, “think you could escape did you, doll?”

you closed your eyes, thinking of your chances against him, you couldn’t do anything. he could defeat you in a heartbeat, you were defeated already. you opened your eyes as you felt a big hand trace your thigh, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at it, “why are you covered in blood?”

“n-nanami, uhm, his h-hand..” you stuttered, he gave you a dry chuckle, the sound raising goosebumps on your skin. his gaze moved to your neck, his hand moving up your body to trace your collarbone with the rough pads of his fingers. “he got you all marked up too, hm?”

his voice was deep, congruent to his large physique that towered over you. his eyes searched your face, and before you could process what was happening, you were being manhandled by him, yelping as you were thrown over his shoulder in an instant and you closed your eyes, your gaze being on the ground behind him as he moved.

it didn’t take long for him to take you to his destination, you couldn’t hear anything on the way, except the single slap that was landed to your ass being close to his face. then you could hear the sound of a door being opened, closed, and then locked.

he put you down, taking in your surroundings as fast you could, it was another room similar to the one you were previously held in, only this one was fancier in a way. you felt his tight grip on your arm as he pulled you towards a small bed, throwing you onto it as he got above you.

you thought he was going to force himself on you, use your body like a ragdoll, yet you were wrong as you heard clinging noises above your head, opening your eyes that had closed before from your nerves wrecking your whole body. he had big chains in his hands, the sound of them rattling together as he wrapped one around both of your wrists, you didn’t protest the slightest, staring at him as he secured your hands, looking down at you with a raise of his brows.

“you’re into all of this aren’t you? you freaky little thing. why aren’t you trying to stop me, huh?” his voice surged through you as he moved your chained hands above your head, making sure they’re locked around your wrists before dropping them from his hold. he kept speaking to you as he took more chain from the side of the bed, “or maybe you just know you don’t stand a chance against me doll, yeah? mhm.”

you looked down at him with teary eyes, he was wrapping the long chain around your torso, dragging the remains and wrapping it around one of your thighs. he was doing this for his own desires at this point, all the excessive chain was definitely not necessary.

your thoughts were running wild as he was above you, towering over you as he check the chains again, and that’s when you realized why nanami left the room. he wasn’t looking to get his dick wet, he was professional, so he handled things in a professional way. yet toji, he seemed like the guy who would let his own desires distract him. so you would use his hotheaded self to get your way.

you gave out a low whimper, moving one of your legs and setting it on his large thigh as he kneeled above you. he raised his thin brows, watching your actions closely. you started moving your foot up his thigh, and pushed down on his crotch, you could feel him already start to harden beneath the touch of your foot.

he chuckled darkly, grabbing a hold of your foot as he held a tight grip on it, “you dirty slut, you didn’t get boss’ cock did you?” you shook your head eagerly, biting down on your bottom lip, “so now you want mine?”

the smell of musk and whiskey hit your nose as he got closer to you, still having a firm grip on your ankle. you were frustrated, it’s like your own plan was being ruined by you. you moved your hands above your head, the chains rattling as you squirmed beneath him. trying to get any reaction out of the man.

he gave you a slap on your thigh and you whimpered, “fucking behave.” he hissed as he looked up at your face, tears threatening to fall as your eyes looked up at him with innocence swirling in them, and he knew one thing. he wanted to fucking ruin you.

he dropped your leg back onto the bed, both of his large hands moving to open your thighs, ruined panties being showed to him as he smirked. you closed your eyes, you could hear the rattling of some chains, paying it no mind until you felt cold metal on your hot core.

you screamed, thighs going to close but his broad shoulders didn’t let you. you looked down at him, his head was in between your thighs, only inches away from where you were aching to be touched, you could see the chain on your panties, he had gotten a loose end of the ones wrapped around your waist and brought it down to tease you.

the scar accross his lips only widened as he smirked, running the cold chain up and down your clit in taunting motions as you squirmed and whimpered. he brought his mouth closer, your panties were moved to the side as you could feel his hot breath on you, yet he made no further moves, pausing even the coldness of the chain.

hot tears were rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded with a small voice, “please, p-please— toji-“

he took his lips between his teeth, “please what, doll?”

you groaned “please— just.. do anything-“ he chuckled, moving the cold chain back onto you, and rubbing slow circles with it on your clit, you squirmed, thighs wanting to close so bad— to get any relief but he wouldn’t let you.

you looked down at him, his face was so close to you, if he were to stick out his tongue, it would touch you easily. you needed it, you needed a warm, hot contrast to the cold chain sending shivers up your body.

you cried as his tongue came down between your folds, vibrating as he hummed around your wetness. you thought you were hallucinating at first, not being able to tell the difference between the coldness of the chain or the hotness of his tongue, but you were sure of it as he looked up at you, his long tongue sticking out of his mouth as your juices coated it, a small silver dot could be seen in the middle of the muscle.

he had a tongue piercing, damn bastard. so that’s why his tongue felt cold against you too, he gave you his signature smirk as he dived down again, tongue lapping around the wetness coming out of your hole, the chain in his big hands still moving and rubbing against your swollen clit.

you shook as his tongue entered you, long and warm, yet the piercing was cold against your insides. you clenched down on his tongue as he chuckled against you, the vibration being the last thing to drive you wild and onto your impending orgasm.

he let you chase your high as his tongue didn’t stop for a second, lapping inside of you and moving until you were squirming away from him, a sharp tug of the chain on your clit stopped your movement, the chains tightening around your torso and threatening to squish you. “i’m not fucking done eating yet, be a good fucking girl and stay still okay? maybe then i’ll let you have my cock, not that you can fucking take it with this tight cunt.”

his words were filthy as he licked you up again, your body shaking and yet getting impossibly more wet from his dirty talking. after what seemed like hours of torturing and overstimulated you, he finally stopped, only to start with something else, even more agonizing.

you could hear the shuffling of a belt as he took off his pants, he moved up your body in an instant, thick thighs resting beside each side of your breasts under your arms easily since they were chained above your head. your gaze went to look at him, but his rough hand held your jaw, covering almost half of your face as he forced you to look up at him.

you almost gasped, he looked sinful from this angle, his jawline being so prominent, his eyes dark as he looked down at you, his raven hair falling down his forhead. his black shirt was gone too now, big pecs making your mouth water, you could swear they were bigger than your boobs. the tail of his cobra tattoo covering one side of his chest and shoulder fully. his cobra tattoo, oh god you still needed to get information from him somehow. the cocaine deals.

he chuckled, “done staring, doll? like what you see?” you eagerly nodded your head in his hand, all thoughts thrown out the window as he tapped twice on your cheek with his fingers that resided there, “open up for me.” your brows furrowed as you kept your gaze on him, opening your mouth slowly.

he grinned, the scar on his lip looking so delicious as he did so. his big thumb swirled around you lips, before slowly urging it into your mouth as he hummed. you wrapped your tongue around his thumb, sucking in slow motions as you hummed around it in the same tone he was. god it was big, if this was just his thumb—

he took his thumb out slowly, keeping it on your bottom lip as he leaned his head forwards, his dark eyes complimenting his dark hair that fanned around his ears. he kept your mouth open with his thumb on your lip, collecting some spit around his lips as it fell down on your tongue.

he closed your jaw with his hand, you were practically his ragdoll at this point. “swallow.” he almost growled, and you did, showing your tongue to him as evidence after you did so. he hummed, “atta girl.”

his hand never released your jaw, his other hand went down to his boxers, slowly pulling out his throbbing cock as he sighed. you kept your gaze on his face, frankly too scared to look down and see his size. his eyes were focused on his own hand working up and down, you could hear the wet sound of it.

his gaze came onto your face, his dark eyes sparkling as he chuckled, motioning his head down to urge you to look, and you finally did. your jaw quite literally agape as you let out an indescribable noise, eyes wide as you took him in.

you shivered, his cock was fucking monsterous. his own big hand that covered half of your face, covered a little more than his whole length as he had it wrapped around himself. precum was dribbling down his shaft and onto your collarbone, the tip of it red and angry as he laughed at your reaction.

he brought it to your lips, panting slightly “think you can take it?” you looked up at him, his eyes filled with amusement as you shook your head rapidly. “too bad then, doll. you’re gonna have to.” with that, he shoved it into your mouth, your tongue wrapping around his thick head, your jaw already aching.

he groaned as he fucked your mouth, gags filling the room as he thrusted deeper in your throat with every move of his hips, you looked up at him, and oh boy was he a sight for sore eyes. his mouth open as he grunted, nose scrunched as he focused on his own pleasure. that’s when you knew toji fushiguro was much more cock-driven than his patient boss.

his eyes rolled back into his head as he fucked your throat, pulling back after feeling your tears wet his hand that was still holding your cheek. you coughed, struggling to keep your breath. he hummed, snickering at you as he fisted himself, “how about we try a different hole? maybe she can take me better, yeah?”

you shook visibly as he moved down your body, positioning himself between you as he grabbed your ankle and put one of your legs over his shoulder, your inner thighs aching with the act as you whimpered. but there was no other way he would fit between your legs, he was fucking huge, so you needed to stretch your legs.

he held a firm grip on your other leg, folding it so it was against your chest. he slipped his tip in between your folds, groaning as he did. “look how fucking wet your are again, you liked me using your mouth, doll?” his gaze went back to your cunt again, snickering as he watched you barely clench around the tip of his cock. “you don’t even need to fucking talk, your pussy answers for you.” he chuckled.

he looked at you, tears rolling down your face as your nails dug into your own palm, your eyes squeezed shut as your tried to not fall apart before him. he tapped your ankle with his hands that resided there, making you open your eyes. “look at me. yeah keep those doe eyes on me ‘kay?”

he hissed as he thrusted his hips, his cock stretching you open painfully. you moaned, squirming to try to get away from him, yet obviously failing with the tight grips he had around your ankle and on your thigh.

he fucked into you, hard, hissing and groaning with each thrust. he would pull out slow, just to go back in before you could even breathe. he grunted, “look at you, stuffed full of my cock. better not think of escaping anymore, yeah?”

god it was so painful, but you loved it. it compelled you, as if he was a snake biting you. you were high off his venom. fucked dumb under him as you came way too soon, clenching around his girth as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“i—i c-can’t please— too- too much... nnghh—!” he chuckled at you, moving closer as he buried his face in your neck, his hot breaths so addicting on your pulse point. “come on, one more for me. i know you can, pretty girl.”

his thumb that was in your mouth only minutes ago came to your cheek, wiping away your tears that had welled up in your eyes. the action caught you by surprise, and you clenched around him as you came again, moaning his name over and over as if you were lovers. as if this man wasn’t the same one you needed to get information from. as if he wasn’t your enemy.

his musky smell was captivating as he groaned, biting down on your neck and fucking into you with a last harsh thrust that made you shudder before you could feel him paint your insides with thick, hot ropes of his cum.

“good girl, took me so well.” he said as his face was still buried in your neck, coming down from his high. you shook your arms above your head, making the chains rattle. he pulled his head back, looking at you with raised brows. you leaned forward, pushing your lips to his and pressing a soft kiss to the scar that resided there.

there was a confused look on his face when you pulled back, you giggled, “been wanting to do that..” he gave you a soft smile and shook his head, and you almost felt bad for the thing you were about to do. “can you please let me go pee? i really need to pee.. y’know— after all that..“

he pondered for a moment, before moving off of you and putting his boxers back on, he looked down at you, faltering his movements before grabbing something from the back pocket of his discarded pants, and before you could realize, he had taken a picture of you.

your eyes widened, and he chuckled darkly as he began taking the chains off of you, “that’s incase your pretty little head gets any ideas. remember i have a picture of you in chains, your body red and hickeys all over you, meanwhile my cum leaks out of you.. ‘kay?”

you shuddered as he whispered the last part, purposely having his crotch close to your face as he unchained your hands above your head. you got up, his cum was leaking down your thighs, your red dress now ruined and barely covering any skin of your thighs.

your legs shook and you almost fell on your face but you felt his big hands go around your waist, helping you up as he smirked. you swatted his arm away and began walking out of the room, you waited at the door for a few seconds, making sure he wouldn’t follow you.

you began running on shaky legs, bare feet as you tried to find your way around the dark hallways of wherever you were. you found a door that had a shining exit sign atop it, you ran towards it, pushing it open.

you paused, the gravel making your feet ache beneath you, you took a deep breath. the sky was painted a deep purple, the sun only minutes away from rising, you were about to fucking bawl your eyes out with no plan and nowhere to go.

until you saw headlights of a car, it was getting closer to you. oh no, they were gonna kill you whoever they were. you shook as you heard a familiar voice behind you, “didn’t i tell you not to fucking try anything?!” he shouted.

you had no options, you would either get caught by toji and probably tortured to death, or you could take your chances and get in the random car. you couldn’t think straight, your body moving for you as you ran to the car that was now very close to you.

you hopped in the back seat, squeezing your eyes shut as you shouted, not even being brave enough to face your own demise yet “please! please just drive!”

you heard a chuckle, no— two. you opened your eyes as you could feel the car moving again, looking out the window before looking at the driver— or his passenger.

you could see slender fingers showing the peace sign out of the passenger’s window, turning back to look at toji who was left behind, was he smirking? why was he smirking? did he not take the peace sign as a ‘fuck you’?

you finally looked forward, looking at the passenger seat first, whom the slender fingers belonged to. soft, icy white hair came down to his forhead, light blue eyes looking back at you, bue tinted sunglasses resting on his upturnt nose which also held a small nose piercing. wide grin accross his face, lips that seemed to shine even in the darkness of the car.

he was wearing a long, red leather coat, black turtle neck under it, long silver chain hanging on his chest, two rings interlocked in it. he sucked on a lolipop as he spoke with a cheerful voice, “done staring, buttercup?”

you were pulled out of your trance, he chuckled as you looked up at his eyes, his gaze as if piercing your soul. “i’m gojo satoru, satoru for you.” he winked.

a deep voice made you look to your left, ah of course, the driver. he had long black hair gathered in a loose bun atop his head, dark eyes looking at you from the car mirror, a silver piercing decorated his thin brow, his voice deep as he looked back and forth between the road and the mirror, “hey, geto suguru.”

you swallowed, you could only hope they were good men, yet that hope was crushed in your chest as you saw ‘suguru’ bring a cigarette to his mouth, a reptile tattoo covering the top of his knuckles.

•••••••••••••••••••

#part 2 anyone 👀#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader

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postremorisu · 2 years

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OUTSIDE THE MANISON June 11th w/ @heartofasoldier — Ryan Marshall

Camille sits on the grass in the garden area, looking up at the sky. A part of her wishes the lights weren’t so bright since it dulls out the shine from the stars. She hears footsteps heading towards her despite how soft the ground is and knowing his scent for the last two-hundred something years she doesn’t need to look behind her to know it’s Ryan approaching. “I got refreshments,” she plucks the flask up from the spot next to her, dangling it up and above her head then lowering it as the man plants herself next to her. She twists the cap and pulls it off, bringing it up to her lips and taking a sip of it. “You ever goin’ to tell me about this blonde or do I need to use my investigation work to find out myself?” She asks, holding the flask out towards him.

#( x. threads: camille )#( x. ryan marshall )#( x. casino masquerade )

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jjk-anime-horray · 3 years

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Gambler's Woe

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Any basic dice has six sides to it, but you always role them in a pair. While you have twelve possible number outcomes, and thirty six combinations, statistically the least likely number total you can bet on is one and twelve. One and twelve are the least likely to outcomes to happen, and that being said they are your favorite to bet on because you could make that 2.78% chance of falling on one or twelve (5.56% together) into whatever you wanted it to be. Gambling wasn't a gambling to you. The probability of the out come was your personal play ground, you could make it almost certain that the stranger sitting across the roulette wheel, the one sitting next to you lose, hell you could even make it a 99.99% chance you would win the lottery today if you bought a ticket. However, all the fun of your probability manipulation quirk was the .01% that wasn't in your favor, what was the fun of anything if it was certain, nothing is? Well that was your thought formerly because turns out some things are unavoidable, and they don't have any uncertainty to them.

Somethings you can't control, for example, you couldn't control the fact that your parents arranged a marriage with the up and coming son of the Pro Hero Endeavor. It wasn't even on the basis of your power, frankly all Enji knew was that you had a decent quirk (considering that you were in Shoto's class), and that your parents were also quite frankly "comfortable"(They were filthy rich, and the classic high class privileged folk, who in one word could be described as awful to be around). In the pro hero's eyes you were the perfect fit for Shoto, but oh did his eyes deceive him because he just married his son to an absolute compulsive gambler.

Of course he didn't know about your free-time night-time activities, and neither did your parents. They would be ashamed that they're child wasn't the perfect little host for there high life ambitions that they needed you to be. They didn't even want you to attend hero school, but you found a way to force there hand just like all real tricksters too. Maybe you were a cheater in a way, but is it really cheating if you follow the rules of the game, but just change the odds?

Shoto didn't want to tell you this, but he actually was happy that his father chose you to marry him instead of someone else. Your intelligence really shined through to him, he was very impressed with the way you could navigate through statistics during combat to guaranty your success (even if you yourself don't realize it), and he may or may not have had a crush on you. He thought you were virtually perfect, but he had no idea how wrong he was.

Everyone has their vice's and flaws. Yours was going around to the casino's with the richest, filthiest, horrible people, and changing the odds to legally steal all of their money from them that they didn't deserve. AKA, you made pieces of shit go bankrupt for fun, and by all means was it entertaining to watch their world crumble in front of thier own face. When Uraraka found out she called you the modern day robin hood in excitement, it was a fair analogy, most of the proceeds from your charades go to charities (and helping out your best friends parents with there financial situation), but you can't lie, the other 30% of it goes into your private bank account as a safety so you can gamble more.

The first night Shoto discovered your past time was on an evening in the middle of October, at a masquerade gala to be specific, that everyone there just happened to be gambling too. His heterochromatic eyes shifted to your from, and he knew it was you draining everyone's money at the craps table across the room. He was frozen in his place, the image of you in his head completely re-writing itself in his head with every role of your dice. He knew the experience of teetering on the edge of stability and insanity by the glint in your eyes, but your pokerface displayed the mask of a completely innocent player on a luckly streak, with only the occasional strategic loss planned out by you to not get caught.

He wasn't sure how he felt totally back your compulsiveness towards the risk of losing it all, but he felt connected to the way you wanted yo spite your parents in some way. Especially if they were awful like yours and his. But he couldn't help to be tiniest bit infatuated with the way your eyes glow with passion and excitement when you finally reveal your total flush hand. He now knew the full extent to what your future union might bring, but he was willing to gamble his odds with it for you because often the things that someone wants aren't good for them, and it's what make something all the more enticing.

#shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shouto x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #anime #my hero academia #my hero x reader

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aliciameade · 4 years

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Full Reveal

Title: Full Reveal Author: aliciameade Rating: E for Extra Fun Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Chloe and her [very famous] girlfriend Beca escape into anonymity at a Las Vegas burlesque performance, though the show has other plans for them that stir up some playful feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that beg to be addressed.

Also on AO3

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“Ladies? If you’d follow me?”

“I saw that,” Chloe teases in Beca’s ear, fingertips tickling Beca’s lower back through her sheer black shirt.

Beca’s response is little more than a side-eye and a smirk as she shoos Chloe’s hand away. Chloe takes no offense, of course. They are less than alone as a concierge leads them through a dark, sultry hallway teeming with people in various states of inebriation. Their escort is an attractive blonde wearing a black three-piece suit and stilettos, though she seems to have forgotten to don the shirt beneath the vest to leave ample cleavage on display and Beca hadn’t been very discreet about looking at it.

They’re in Las Vegas for the weekend. Beca is there ostensibly for work—she’s performing tomorrow night at Mandalay Bay—but when she’s not scheduled for soundcheck, press, meet and greets, and the concert itself, the weekend is for the two of them. They’ve sacrificed the privacy and seclusion of the embarrassingly large home they share in Malibu in favor of a weekend of fun.

They’d sacrificed anonymity years ago when Beca decided, with the support of their friends, to take the leap into becoming a solo artist, leaving behind the frustrating and often unfulfilling career in music production she thought she’d been made for.

It turned out that performing was a lot more fun for her.

The paychecks were also a lot bigger.

And Chloe was by her side for the breakneck launch of Beca’s new career, quietly smiling as she trailed a few steps behind on red carpets, tucked herself into corners of green rooms while Beca entertained VIPs after concerts, and watched her girlfriend present at award shows from backstage monitors.

The general public doesn’t know who Beca is dating, or if she is dating anyone at all. She doesn’t talk about having a current relationship in interviews, just tales of bad ones in her past. There are plenty of rumors and theories, and some people are correct in their hypothesis that the friend often accompanying Beca to parties or seen grabbing coffee or grocery shopping with is more than just a friend.

It’s a privacy thing for Beca. She is out and proud, finally, and she had decided she didn’t owe the public more of her than she was already giving them. Chloe respected that decision; she waited so long for Beca, she probably would have agreed to the wildest of terms if it meant finally being in a relationship with the woman. But simply keeping their relationship status away from the public wasn’t a big ask. Their friends and family knew. Beca’s team knew. But the public was left to its own conjecture.

It helped that part of why Beca didn’t want to share that part of her life with the public was because she wanted to protect it.

It was really damn romantic for Chloe.

It’s also fun. It’s like they have alter egos and tonight they are attending the midnight performance of Luxury X Lace in a small cabaret venue in the depths of a massive casino as nothing more than two friends having a girls’ night out in the city that never sleeps. It was the hottest ticket in a town full of hot tickets, an X-rated burlesque that confiscated cell phones at the door in exchange for your choice of black, silver, or gold masquerade masks to help strip patrons of their identity and inhibitions and immerse them into a world of high-end debauchery.

Beca’s publicist had made a phone call and Beca and her good friend Chloe were invited to the Friday night performance. Phones were exchanged for masks—black for Beca and silver for Chloe—to be led into the cabaret hall.

It’s far more intimate than Chloe had expected. There are a dozen tables arranged around the X-shaped stage and three lines of booths curving around the wall behind the tables. The stage is empty save for a single black chair positioned at the center of it. Music pulses around them.

They are shown to the center booth on the first level, something Chloe suspects is likely the choice seat in the venue. She’s been with Beca long enough to recognize plenty of such perks.

She prefers other types of perks that come with being with Beca, though. Like the way Beca’s hand immediately comes to rest on Chloe’s bare knee just below the hem of Chloe’s gray pleated skirt. Chloe smiles to herself and peruses the themed cocktail menu, content with their proximity and connection. She knows there will be more tonight once they are back in the privacy of their suite at the Mandalay.

“What are you thinking?”

Chloe lets herself smirk, knowing Beca will see it and read exactly what Chloe was thinking, though she knows that wasn’t what Beca was asking. “I think I’m going to try this one, the ‘Satin Sheets,’” she says, tapping on the menu before rotating it so Beca can choose as well.

She watches other patrons arrive to be shown to their tables, the air of excitement growing around them as scantily clad waitresses start to weave their way from table to table collecting drink orders. They spend time flirting with everyone and Chloe notices the way they don’t hesitate to offer a friendly touch to their customer: a playful nudge of a shoulder, fingers through the short hair of the men, winks, and close examinations of manicures or rings on the women.

When a blonde arrives at their table, Chloe thinks that perhaps they will be exempt from this flirtation. Their seating in the booth is not conducive to a waitress sidling up next to someone as can be done at a table and chairs on an open floor, but to compensate, the waitress simply slides into the booth next to Chloe and offers a well-practiced sultry smile.

“Hello, ladies. My name is Jasmine, and I’ll be sure you’re well taken care of tonight.”

Chloe thinks Jasmine might recognize Beca, even with the mask. There’s a bit of a hesitation in the way her eyes linger on Beca. Or maybe she’s just appreciating Beca’s eyes and lips and jawline the same way Chloe does. Or maybe she’s just working on a good tip. But Chloe knows they are in the high roller seat and it wouldn’t take much for the waitress to connect the dots. And that means she and Beca need to be best friends. Not girlfriends.

“Hi, Jasmine,” Chloe offers and can’t help her smile when the attractive woman leans in to slowly wrap a lock of her red hair around a finger.

“I love this color,” Jasmine purrs and even though Chloe knows exactly what the waitress is doing, her own natural inclination to flirt responds.

“It’s natural,” she purrs right back, leaning into her space. She can feel Beca’s blunt fingernails press into her knee before her hand disappears. That is another perk to their secret romance: getting to experience Beca’s possessiveness. It rivals her own for Beca.

“Can you prove it?” The waitress lets her eyes drop unabashedly to Chloe’s lap before they’re back on her eyes.

“Yes, she can.”

Chloe sees the amusement on Jasmine’s face at Beca’s interjection and the waitress backs off, interpreting Beca’s answer as asserting her dominance.

Beca asserting her dominance is nothing new. She’s been good at that since she was in college. Taking control of situations. Putting people in their place. Making people listen to what she has to say.

She asserts it everywhere but in the bedroom that she shares with Chloe.

Jasmine is unfazed by Beca, even if she does stop touching Chloe. Her demeanor is still dark and flirtatious and she redirects her attention to Beca. “Mmm, I love your voice.”

Chloe’s sure Jasmine knows now. In fact, it’s entirely possible that every employee of the production knows that Beca Mitchell is their special guest this evening. That is often the case if they attend some type of event when Beca insists she makes the calls to get the best seats and the backstage access and whatever else she thinks Chloe should have.

Chloe’s attention shifts to Beca and her reaction, but she’s well-versed in this act as well. Chloe’s bared witness to Beca emerging from her cocoon of early adulthood and her wavering confidence and awkwardness. Chloe knows Beca can charm her way into anyone’s pants nowadays, with or without the game.

She charms her way into Chloe’s on a regular basis.

“Then you’d love how it sounds moaning your name. Jasmine, was it?” Beca’s voice drips over the waitress’s name and Chloe feels her own thighs clench at her tone.

Chloe tries to mask her reaction—arousal and amusement—by adjusting the way her hair sits over her shoulders. She knows this is a game for them. It’s hot to watch Beca flirt with other women knowing it’s Chloe’s skirt that her hand will be up on the way home. So many people wanting her girlfriend but her girlfriend only wants her.

God, she can’t wait to get back to their room tonight.

“She’s going to have the Satin Sheets,” Beca continues, ordering Chloe’s drink for her. “And I’ll take the...Pillow Princess,” she concludes.

Chloe’s no fool. She knows why Beca chose that one; she knew she would the moment Chloe saw it on the menu.

Maybe Chloe really, really likes it when Beca uses her tongue. And maybe Beca likes using it just as much. Chloe’s not ashamed one bit that she asks for it with the frequency that she does.

“A perfect combination,” Jasmine says, reaching across the table just to graze her fingers over Beca’s knuckles. Working extra hard earning the big tip from the celebrity table. “I’ll be right back.” Her exit is as practiced and graceful as her appearance was and Chloe feels Beca’s hand back on her knee, maybe an inch or so higher than it was before.

“You’re such a flirt,” Beca says with a sly smile. She knows the game, well, too.

“Well, she has great tits,” Chloe answers with a shrug, playing along with their evening of Gal Pals.

That manages to ruffle Beca's feathers the tiniest bit, and she knew it would. Cleavage is something Beca definitely excels at and it’s on display tonight thanks to the black push-up bra she’s wearing beneath her sleeveless sheer black top. Chloe had unbuttoned it almost completely while they were in the elevator, leaving only the last three buttons remaining fastened. It created a wonderful peek-a-boo effect, sometimes revealing bare skin, sometimes not, and she’d given in to the temptation to press her lips to the swell of Beca’s right breast before the doors had opened. She can still see the faint imprint of her lipstick on it when the light catches it.

Beca narrows her eyes and pointedly brushes one side of her open blouse aside as a reminder of her own assets—as if Chloe could ever forget—and Chloe lets her eyes roam over the expanse of skin, tongue wetting her lips with obvious want.

That seems to rectify the situation. The corners of Beca’s mouth twitch and Chloe has to bite her lip at the way Beca’s fingers suddenly sweep up her inner thigh to graze between her legs before her hands are both above the table to accept the drinks their waitress has already returned with.

“Enjoy,” Jasmine says with a wink before departing once more.

“Mmm, we will,” Chloe says as she takes hers in her hand. “Shall we toast?”

Beca nods and lifts her glass as well. “To what?”

“To seeing where the night takes us.”

Beca’s mouth pulls into the attractive smirk Chloe fell in love with so many years ago. “What happens in Vegas…” she says and taps her glass to Chloe’s.

They drink together as the lights dim until the room is in near darkness. Under the safety of the shadows, Beca presses herself closer, her fingers moving absently but sweetly over and along Chloe’s knee and thigh. Not progressing. Just touching. Chloe lets her arm slip over Beca’s shoulders, something that is more conspicuous, but the only people who know who Beca is are those focused on putting on a show.

A single spotlight hits the chair center stage and a figure emerges from the darkness behind it, dark hair, long legs, sparkling lingerie, platform stilettos.

They watch the performance in silence. It’s a mixture of blatant sex appeal and tongue-in-cheek humor, the performers—mostly women but a few men—each having their own unique talents and schticks, an androgynous emcee by the name of Angel guiding the audience through the evening.

Angel is funny and personable as they flirt with patrons and performers alike, cracking one-liners between performances.

Chloe watches as several performers make their way out of the wings and onto the stage until the X is occupied by eight women in matching sparkling red lace lingerie, a ninth waiting at the center wearing a black leather bustier, thigh-high boots, and holding a riding crop.

Her appearance earns a particularly boisterous round of cheers from the audience and Chloe has to admit that the woman is the most attractive person on stage, all legs and tits and long, purposely mussed blond hair.

Beca’s fingers have stopped wandering. Instead, they’re tapping along to the beat of the music. She finds rhythms woven and hidden in the instrumentals that Chloe would never hear if not for Beca’s keen ear. The soundtrack for the evening largely consists of remixes of popular songs. They’re recognizable but without the vocals, not distracting.

“And now, ladies, gentlemen, neither, both, and those yet-to-decide,” Angel says with a dramatic flourish as they slowly turn in place as if addressing each person individually, “Scarlet needs a victim—I mean, a volunteer.”

A murmur of excitement rolls through the audience and Chloe thinks she feels Angel’s attention land squarely on their table. She can’t be sure due to the lighting; it’s possible they’re eyeing everyone in the room to increase the tension. Chloe can feel it in the way the initial excitement is now silent other than the thumping bass of a remix of a remix of a song Chloe can’t quite put her finger on in her pleasantly inebriated, slightly distracted state.

Beca seems to recognize the song, the tapping on Chloe’s knee shifting to one of confidence. It registers with her just as she senses Beca turning as if to whisper something in her ear but Chloe beats her to it.

“Hey, this is your—” is all she gets out before a lace-clad woman is taking Beca’s hand to invite her out of the booth.

“It seems we have a volunteer!” Angel initiates an encouraging round of applause from the audience.

Chloe watches with equal parts amusement and trepidation as her very famous and very secret girlfriend is led—willingly, she notices—down through the tables and toward the stage while a version of one of Beca’s biggest hits thumps and swirls around the room. She wonders if Beca knew this was going to happen for as ready as she was to slide out of the booth to be taken to the stage where Chloe watches her climb the three steps.

“I didn’t tell you to sit,” Scarlet chastises as soon as Beca moves to sit on the chair in the center of the stage.

It makes Beca laugh and stand up straight, hands clasped in front of her.

“You didn’t even let me give you a proper welcome,” the new host says with a shake of her head and Chloe can tell she’s looking Beca up and down appreciatively.

“Sorry.” Chloe can’t really hear Beca; she doesn’t have a microphone as Scarlet does, but she sees it on her lips.

“Did I ask you to speak?” Scarlet scoffs toward the audience, causing laughter to bubble up from the tables. “Now, what should I call you?” She extends the microphone to Beca who hesitates before speaking.

The premise of the club is anonymity to allow everyone to indulge in their dark desires, but she still answers, “Beca.”

It makes Chloe’s heart stop. She knows it will take people a matter of seconds before they figure it out. She might be wearing a mask, but with her song playing and saying her name, there’s no hiding exactly who has been selected for the main event. She’s grateful that cell phones were confiscated upon arrival. If they hadn’t, she knows this would be broadcast on Instagram Live. The excitement in the room is palpable as the audience puts the pieces together.

“Beca? Everyone, let’s give Beca a warm welcome.”

The applause is not a polite smattering this time. It’s boisterous and full of whistles and shouts and Chloe just sits forward to prop her chin on her clasped hands. This wasn’t how she expected their night to go.

“Okay, Beca,” Scarlet says, her stance so casual despite her costume, “would you like to sit down?”

Beca moves to sit and yelps when Scarlet makes quick work of the riding crop. It was so quick Chloe didn’t even see it but she’d clearly used it to stop Beca from taking a seat.

“I didn’t tell you to sit. I asked if you would like to sit.” Scarlet shakes her head as she says it and the audience laughs, fully engaged in watching pop star Beca Mitchell get womanhandled. “You see, Beca, I’m the one in charge here.”

And womanhandled she gets. Scarlet’s hand, the one not holding her microphone, is on the back of Beca’s neck and wandering across her shoulders and into her hair in a way that makes Beca visibly shiver. It also makes Chloe clench her jaw.

“I know you’re a woman who holds a lot of power, but something tells me you like to give up control now and then. Am I right?”

There are teasing whistles when Beca laughs and says, “Yeah,” into the microphone.

“I think you mean, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beca repeats.

“Good. Obedient,” Scarlet praises, starting to circle Beca slowly though still managing to not stop touching her. “So you’re going to listen to me, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl. Now sit.” A hand in the center of Beca’s chest pushes her down into the chair. It makes the audience whistle again.

Beca makes eye contact with Chloe once Scarlet is out of the way and flashes a smile and the small hand gesture they came up with shortly after they began dating, something they could do inconspicuously to let the other know, ‘The situation is okay, not to worry, I love you.’ They use it on red carpets, at press junkets, interviews, and appearances. Chloe was always so worried Beca was being pressured into sharing more than she wanted to or getting upset that people would confront Beca about dating rumors on national television. It was a good solution and one that has grown to have a deeper meaning for them both as time has passed.

It helps Chloe relax. It means Beca’s fine. That she did, in fact, probably agree to this in advance when she made the arrangements to attend. Chloe sits back in her seat though is no less attentive to how Scarlet is touching Beca.

It’s fifteen minutes of amusement and agony for Chloe as she watches Scarlet entertain the audience by catching Beca misbehaving, taking action before being given permission to do so, or forgetting to say, “Yes, ma’am.” It’s particularly painful when Scarlet’s stiletto thigh-high boot gets planted on the seat of the chair right between Beca’s thighs. She’s instructed to kiss it and Chloe watches with rapt attention as Beca hesitates before doing so, kissing Scarlet’s knee.

Chloe doesn’t like it, not one bit. But she does enjoy it, which is more than a little confusing. The one thing she is sure of is that she wants the show to end so they can go back to their room where Chloe can show Beca just how much she enjoyed her performance.

It’s fifteen minutes of Beca being ordered to her knees, to lie down, to stand up, to answer questions, sometimes messing up and getting swatted across her ass with Scarlet’s riding crop. It’s entertaining for everyone, Beca included who is smiling most of the time, except when she’s ordered to wipe it off her face. Everyone is entertained by the sexy blond dominatrix making sexual innuendos with Chloe’s girlfriend, touching her, spanking her, making her laugh, and assuredly blush as the crowd gets way more than they paid for. Not just a night at Luxury X Lace but fifteen minutes of Beca Mitchell, whose concert tickets top out in the $500 range for premium seats, being sexually teased and willingly degraded.

By the time it’s over and Beca’s sliding back into their booth, Chloe has to check to see if her own fingernails have made her palms bleed from clenching her fists so hard.

“Was that fun?” she asks, making no effort to hide her irritation from her voice.

It doesn’t seem to bother Beca, though, who ignores the question and leans in to kiss Chloe. It’s hard and demanding and not something they should be doing in public and Beca’s hand returning to her thigh under the edge of her skirt makes Chloe forget why she was annoyed in the first place.

“Everything okay?” Beca asks when they part after a few more seconds.

“Um,” Chloe feels dazed, “yeah. Um...people?” She reminds tilting her head toward the rest of the seating area.

Beca just smiles and slides her hand higher up Chloe’s skirt. “No one’s watching us.”

It makes Chloe grab Beca’s hand to stop it and turn to look around. Beca’s right. The show is continuing and even though Beca’s cover is blown, their privacy in the booth remains in-tact. The audience is more interested in the mostly naked women and men on stage, not what the celebrity is getting up to with her secret girlfriend at the burlesque show.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe breathes. She can’t believe she’s agreeing to what Beca so immediately suggested upon her return. But something about what she watched did things to her. Turned her on. Made her want to remind Beca who was really the one in charge, and their name isn’t Scarlet. She nods and kisses Beca again while releasing Beca’s hand to let her do what she wants.

Beca’s smooth about it. They’ve had years to memorize perfect angles, perfect rhythms, and Chloe hates (and kind of loves) that Beca pulls back from their kiss to watch Chloe’s masked face respond to her fingers moving up and slipping beneath her lace thong.

Beca’s smile is annoying and Chloe knows exactly what she’s thinking: Chloe is way too wet for two minutes of kissing. She’s been enjoying the show. Specifically, Beca’s role in it.

“Fuck,” she quietly laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Beca’s lips before turning her attention back to the performance. She knows they could probably get away with a lot more than Beca’s hand up her skirt, but that’s what makes it fun. The game. Will they get caught? Will the world finally know who Beca’s talented, multi-million-dollar mouth is making come nearly every night?

She feels Beca settle comfortably next to her, one hand lifting her drink to her lips, the other pressing two fingers into Chloe to start fucking her slowly. Chloe hates that she knows Beca’s intentions: if she hadn’t done that, if she’d just kept her fingers teasing Chloe’s clit, she’d be coming in a matter of a few minutes.

But she won’t now, not like this. Not with Beca fucking her almost leisurely, a slow pace that reaches as deep as the angle allows. She hikes up her left knee to prop her foot against the leg of the table and open herself wider. It doesn’t make Beca move any more quickly, but it does help her push deeper.

It makes Chloe’s head tilt back to rest against the booth. She doesn’t need to watch the performance. No one cares. No one’s watching them. The music is loud and Angel is narrating and people are applauding and Chloe lets herself moan.

She slips her arm behind Beca’s shoulders to keep her close, playing with her hair to make her shiver as Scarlet had. But it’s Chloe whom Beca is fucking in public. Not Scarlet. The thought makes her fingers twist and they tug maybe a little too hard on Beca’s hair because she hears her gasp in her ear.

Chloe wonders how long Beca will torture her. She’s so turned on but Beca’s not driving her any closer to her climax. It’s a prolonged plateau and Chloe starts to feel that it’s less about getting her off and more about Beca wanting to do something risque when people know who she is.

It’s not the first time; they’ve snuck off to bathrooms and coat check rooms many times over the years for quick fun, but Beca has never been this bold.

She clenches around Beca’s fingers and feels them curl inside her. She thinks it might encourage Beca to speed up but instead, she pulls out completely.

It makes Chloe’s head snap up, ready to complain about the loss only to open her eyes to Beca sucking on her fingers before she’s clapping enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience and dropping a trio of hundred-dollar bills on the table to tip their waitress.

The show is over and Chloe has no idea how it ended. She doesn’t care. All she cares about is how much she needs to come and how quickly they can get back to their hotel.

People are still clapping when their escort upon arrival appears. “Ladies? Let’s get you out before the mass exodus.”

Beca finishes off her drink and scoots out of the booth, reaching back for a slow-to-move Chloe to take her hand and help her. Chloe isn’t drunk, far from it in fact. But she’s so aroused she’s not thinking very clearly and smiles her appreciation as Beca helps her out and to her feet.

Her mind clears a bit as they walk, though she can feel how wet and swollen Beca’s made her with every step she takes. She’s grateful for the early exit; Beca no longer being anonymous means she is fair game to anyone who can get to her. They’re led not the way they entered but through a side door that drops them right next to the desk where they’d checked in. Phones returned but masks retained, they turn to make their way out of the casino.

“What were you thinking?” Chloe asks as they walk with notable speed through the maze of slot machines following signs pointing toward the exit.

Beca’s smile is really more than a smirk. “Are you complaining?”

Chloe doesn’t really have an answer to that. She’s not complaining. Maybe some notice about being the featured guest would have been nice, but she doesn’t want to talk about celebrity life and privacy right now.

Right now, she needs Beca to finish what she started.

“No,” she says with a shake of her head. Then, driven by need and adrenaline and the fact that word has probably not yet spread that Beca Mitchell is in that particular casino and they still have their masks, she pulls Beca aside and up against the side of a bank of slot machines to kiss her.

She wants to do it right there. She wants to tell Beca to kneel like she did for Scarlet and put her head under her skirt and make her scream in front of everyone.

Instead, she kisses Beca hard, tongue and teeth and hands on her ass until it’s Beca who moans this time.

Chloe pulls away abruptly just as Beca had when the show ended and it’s her turn to smirk at how disoriented and aroused Beca looks. “Come on,” she says as she takes her hand and pulls them toward the path to the exit once again.

It takes longer than it should to get back to the Mandalay Bay. If they could manage to make it more than two blocks without someone being pushed against a wall, a planter, or a vending machine to make out, it would only be a fifteen-minute walk.

Instead, they’re finally in the elevator forty-five minutes later behaving themselves because there are three other people riding up with them. They both know they’ll be the last ones off; Beca’s suite is on one of the uppermost floors. It makes Chloe tingle with anticipation because she knows it’s going to be a competition of who does what first as soon as they are alone.

It’s Chloe who wins. The last person steps off and before the doors are even closed, she has Beca against the rear wall of the elevator, tongue in her mouth and hands up her shirt and under her bra. They have six floors to go which is only a matter of seconds but it’s long enough to make Beca say, “God, I need you,” when it ends and the doors open.

They’ve had their share of rushing down hotel hallways to lock themselves in increasingly upscale rooms to ravage one another and this time is no different. It’s a choreographed dance at this point. Chloe’s the one who has the key out and ready because Beca usually can’t find hers or can’t focus long enough to insert it.

Chloe’s able to unlock it by touch at this point because so often she has Beca pressed up against the door, sometimes kissing her, sometimes breathing hotly in her ear while her hand wanders to indecent places. With a quick click, the door swings open and they spill into the palatial suite. It’s a dance as well, removing shoes while careful not to trip over each other or furniture or bags as Beca pulls her mask off and tosses it aside, followed by Chloe’s before she’s pulling Chloe down onto the oversized couch in the center of the room.

“Can’t even wait ‘til we get to bed?” Chloe asks with a smiling kiss before she moves back so she can unbutton Beca’s jeans.

“Whatever,” Beca says. She arches her back and reaches under herself and Chloe watches her strip away her bra, pulling it out through her shirt.

“I was getting to that. No, leave it,” Chloe adds when Beca starts to unbutton the sheer top. It leaves nothing to the imagination, but seeing Beca without her bra, perfect curves and stiff nipples Chloe knows she’ll have her mouth on soon enough…

Beca stops what she’s doing and instead lifts her hips to help Chloe peel her jeans and underwear away.

“You were trying to make me jealous,” Chloe says matter-of-factly as she yanks the tight jeans from Beca’s feet with a little more force than is necessary.

Beca’s holding herself up on her elbows and she looks entirely too proud of herself. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you let everyone know who you were.” Chloe’s hands start making their way up Beca’s bare legs, parting them to make room so she can back up and lie down between them. She settles Beca’s knees over her shoulders to kiss her inner thigh. It makes Beca shiver and sends hands down to tangle in Chloe’s hair. “And I can’t believe you fucked me.” Another kiss, higher, to make Beca’s breathing quicken. “Anyone could have caught us. Think of the headlines: ‘Beca Mitchell caught red-handed...knuckles deep in her best friend’s sopping pussy.’”

She can tell Beca wants to laugh but it comes out as a moan of impatience instead. Tired of waiting herself, Chloe shifts higher to tease her tongue against Beca’s clit.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Beca groans, pulling hair and lifting her hips as if she’s the one who had been left needing more at the show. Her impatience means Chloe’s done a good job turning the tables on her little stunt.

“Did you like that woman spanking you?” Chloe knows she’s toeing a line. They both might be, but she was jealous. And she is turned on.

Beca’s hesitation is telling and she finally nods when Chloe licks her again. “Yeah.”

“Did you like her telling you what to do?”

The answer is immediate this time. “Yes. Fuck, Chlo, please.” She lifts her hips again wanting more of what Chloe is withholding.

Chloe’s going to come back to the conversation. For now, she has needs and she needs to make Beca come. She’s never been able to resist her long, not when she begs her in that voice, not when she pulls Chloe’s face between her legs pleading Chloe to fuck her.

She’s not going to torture her the way Beca did. She has a second need which is to make Beca finish what she started, but she will deal with one thing at a time.

Beca is wet under her tongue and Chloe wraps her arms around her thighs to hold her, one hand gripping her thigh, the other parting Beca to be able to lick exactly where she knows Beca likes it. Fast. Focused. Exactly what it takes for Beca to—

“Fuck, I’m gonna come already, I hate you.” She moans as she says it and Chloe can taste the way she’s starting to unravel.

It makes her smile. Beca doesn’t hate her. Not one bit. Quite the opposite, in fact, and Chloe takes pride that it still annoys Beca that Chloe can get her off so quickly. And it’s not that she’s annoyed that Chloe’s good, it’s that she doesn’t want it to end.

(Though rarely does it end after just one orgasm from Beca.)

She savors Beca’s voice in her ears and taste on her tongue and eases her down from her quick, surprisingly intense climax.

Though maybe not so surprising when she thinks about how desperate Beca had been after her little game of Scarlet Says. Which reminds her…

“Get up.” She says it with an edge to her voice as she sits up and moves back from between Beca’s legs.

It’s clear Beca’s startled by the sudden mood change and her eyes are wide as she stares down her half-naked body, chest still heaving as she’s not yet recovered. “Dude, what the fuck?” she bites. She’s not just startled, she’s incensed by Chloe ripping away from her the way she did. It’s not normal behavior by any means.

It’s precarious; Chloe knows it. She’s springing some kind of role-play on Beca without talking about it first and she’s ready to drop it if Beca pushes back again. She levels her gaze to look directly at Beca. “I told you to get up.”

There’s the slightest twitch to Beca’s lips and Chloe knows she’s realized what’s happening. With a nod, she sits up and somewhat tiredly pushes herself up to her feet and turns around to face Chloe.

Chloe eyes her as she gets herself situated on the couch, turning to sit properly and makes a bit of a show of crossing her legs primly. She’s still fully clothed unlike her girlfriend waiting for directions wearing nothing but her half-unbuttoned sheer blouse that stops at her hips.

“I didn’t realize you like being told what to do so much,” Chloe says airly. She wants to keep Beca unsteady. They’ve played with power dynamics in the bedroom before, of course. After this long, there’s not much they haven’t tried. But they had never pushed it to the point of commands and obedience. “I guess I’m not that surprised,” she continues, smiling at memories of how Beca had reacted to simple requests in the bedroom in the past. She hadn’t explored it further. There wasn’t a need to; someone usually came minutes later. Now she understands why.

Beca takes a breath like she’s about to speak but instead snaps her jaw closed.

It makes Chloe’s eyebrows lift. She hadn’t had to do much of anything and Beca has already fallen into her role, primed, no doubt, by the events at the burlesque show.

“Did you like that woman touching you?” she asks. When Beca doesn’t answer, she has to work not to smile. “You can answer me when I ask you a question.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that,” Beca answers. “I thought they were just going to ask me questions and give me a lap dance or something.”

Chloe finds it endearing the way Beca’s trying to defend herself. Chloe’s not upset about it; a hair bothered, maybe, but nothing worth getting mad about. Possessive, though...it’s definitely worth reminding Beca who’s been in her bed every night. “That isn’t what I asked,” Chloe says as she leans back casually. “I asked if you liked it when that woman touched you.”

She can see Beca trying to choose the right words, which is amusingly telling. “It was...fun,” is what she decides to answer.

Chloe looks at her in surprise. “Fun? I’ll show you fun. On your knees.” She snaps and points at the floor as she says it and watches as Beca sinks to kneel obediently on the plush carpet. It’s thrilling to watch and does more for her than she thought it would. “Come here,” she continues with a crook of her finger.

“Yes, ma’am,” Beca says as she shuffles forward until she’s as close as she can be, Chloe’s right leg crossed over the left stopping her from getting any closer.

Her response is spine-tingling. Chloe wants to draw this out; she wants to see just how obedient Beca can be, but her patience is thin after being so aroused for so long with no release. She can save that for another day. “Would you like to know what I want you to do?” She teases Beca’s bare stomach with her toe as she says it.

“I bet you’re about to tell me,” Beca says as she squirms a little; she’s ticklish there and Chloe knows it.

“Sassy.”

Beca shrugs.

“Let’s give your mouth something better to do.” She uncrosses her legs as she says it and enjoys the way Beca’s eyes fall automatically to look, though Chloe knows she can’t see anything. Not with her skirt resting how it is. “You ruined my underwear at the show. The least you could do is take them off me.”

She can see the way Beca’s eyelashes flutter; she’s excited and ready as she reaches for Chloe, hands sliding up her thighs to hook her fingers into the waistband of Chloe’s thong to pull it down. She lifts her hips to let it slip out from under her and watches Beca pull it the rest of the way down her legs until she’s tossing it over her shoulder with more confidence than someone ordered to her knees ought to have, but Chloe doesn’t mind. Not when Beca’s hands almost reach for Chloe’s thighs again but stops herself and they fall back to her own naked lap.

“So patient,” Chloe smiles. Beca giving up control like this is turning Chloe on far more than she had expected and she knows she isn’t going to last very long. She parts her knees and hikes up her skirt. Not too much. Just enough that Beca will be able to see how much she needs her. “But I’m not.”

Beca’s eyes snap up to meet Chloe’s and she can see the excitement in them, the desire to please Chloe in more ways than one.

“I want you to make me come”—she pauses to glance at her non-existent watch—“in less than five minutes.” When Beca doesn’t move, she adds, “The clock is ticking.”

She can tell Beca is amused by the challenge, even excited by it as her hands do what they had probably meant to do after stripping Chloe of her underwear: land on Chloe’s knees to part them before they slide higher, pushing Chloe’s skirt with them.

Chloe leans back, relaxing into the couch as she spreads her legs wider until she decides to bring her right foot up to rest on the edge of the couch, knee fully bent, holding her ankle to keep it there. It opens her up splendidly and she watches with rapt attention as Beca shifts closer, tongue already at her lips as she leans down.

Chloe can’t help the moan that comes with the first touch of Beca’s tongue. She’s been waiting for it for hours, really since they left the hotel to attend the show.

Beca seems to take her directive seriously if the way she’s using her tongue is anything to judge by. She’s lapping at Chloe in exactly the way Chloe likes it the most: messy and lewd, her arousal audible in the way her clit slips from Beca’s lips when she sucks on it. She likes it because Beca’s so passionate about making her feel good, and her passion only makes Chloe want it more.

She weaves the fingers of her free hand through Beca’s soft hair, watching as Beca fucks her perfectly. “Just like that,” she sighs as she lets her hips start rocking. “Use your fingers, too, baby.”

They both groan as Beca sinks two fingers into her and she clenches around them. As soon as she relaxes, Beca is fucking her, hard, and it makes her gasp. She hadn’t been ready for that, forgetting for a moment about her self-imposed deadline.

“Beca, fuck,” she moans, ass coming off the couch from the sudden onslaught of pleasure and she watches as Beca ducks her shoulder under the leg Chloe isn’t holding so she can tuck herself even closer. Her fingers twist in Beca’s hair and it might be too tight but it doesn’t seem to bother her. “So good,” she says and feels Beca’s tongue flicking at her clit impossibly faster. “You’re so good,” she repeats and feels her fingers speed up, too.

She knows Beca likes being praised. It’s served them both very well in the past and it’s serving Chloe impeccably well right now. Beca moans at the comment and glances up at Chloe through dark eyelashes, eyes meeting before she closes them to lose herself in fucking Chloe.

It doesn’t take long after that. Not with the way Beca starts sucking on her clit and doesn’t let up. “Yes, yes, just like that,” she moans again, grateful for the massive room offering plenty of insulation from the prying ears of the only other room on that floor. “You’re gonna make me come, Beca.”

Beca groans in response and doesn’t change a thing; her pace is relentless and Chloe can feel how hot her body is under her leg from working so hard and she’s so, so grateful for her hard work as her orgasm crashes through her.

Beca’s moaning through it with her and it makes Chloe drop the pretense. She wants Beca. Now. Her cunt is still pulsing around Beca’s fingers when she pulls her up by her hair. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get the point.

“Come here,” she breathes, pulling Beca in to kiss her wet mouth as she drops her leg back to hang over the edge of the couch and make room for Beca to climb into her lap, straddling her on her knees.

Beca’s hand hasn’t left her with the change in position and though she has less room to move, she’s still working her fingers against Chloe’s overstimulated clit as Chloe reaches between Beca’s legs to slide her fingers into her soaked cunt.

The way Beca moans into Chloe’s mouth through their heated kiss is sinful but not as sinful as the way she immediately starts riding Chloe’s hand. Her hand tangles in Chloe’s hair as her hips roll and grind, all restraint gone as she chases her orgasm.

She’s so far gone that she’s not paying close attention to how hard she’s touching Chloe. It’s borderline painful for a few seconds until something in Chloe clicks and the force becomes delicious and somehow not enough. She grinds the heel of her hand up into Beca, slipping a third finger into her with how wet she’s become, dripping into Chloe’s palm and Chloe knows she’s just as wet. She’s thankful she’s sitting on her skirt. She’d rather pay to dry clean it than reupholster the hotel couch.

“Fuck,” Beca whimpers against Chloe’s lips before her hips suddenly change from riding Chloe’s fingers hard to riding them fast.

Chloe can feel how close she is with the way she’s starting to tremble around her fingers. Beca’s fighting it and she doesn’t know why until she thinks maybe Beca hasn’t dropped the pretense like Chloe had.

She’s waiting for permission.

The concept quickly spools Chloe’s orgasm into a coil ready to spring at any second and she has to fight it, too.

This is hot. This is really hot. She loves when Beca is wild and desperate and there are no other words to describe her right now.

Chloe pulls back from the kiss. “Do you want to come?”

Beca’s jaw drops at the words and Chloe feels her clench hard but the climax doesn’t follow as it normally would. “God, yes,” she exhales after a few seconds. Beca is still fucking them both. Riding Chloe’s fingers. Rubbing Chloe’s clit.

Chloe’s free hand catches Beca’s chin and lifts her head to make eye contact with her. “Ask me nicely.”

She’s not sure she’s ever felt Beca as wet as she is tonight and it doesn’t stop. She thinks she can even feel it increase as soon as she says those words.

“Please,” Beca whines immediately. “Please let me come for you.” She holds Chloe’s stare as she says it and she tightens around Chloe’s fingers again.

Chloe hesitates with her answer. The moment is so intense, so erotic she’s not quite ready to end it. They’re existing on another plane of sex than most of their nights. She hopes it continues through the night.

“Not yet,” she finally answers and Beca almost sobs at the response. “Stand up,” she demands, lifting with the hand between Beca’s legs until Beca’s moving.

“What…?” Beca starts, only to say, “Oh, my God,” when Chloe guides Beca’s left knee up and past her head to rest on the back of the couch.

Chloe pulls her forward with the fingers inside her until she has Beca’s clit against her tongue. Beca’s hands immediately fall to Chloe’s head for balance as she rocks her hips forward into Chloe’s face.

It’s Chloe’s turn to be brutal with the pace of her fingers, fucking up and into Beca as she lets Beca ride her tongue. She knows Beca’s orgasm is going to be massive when she lets her have it and Chloe wants her coming in her mouth.

The change in position bought them a few minutes, distracting Beca long enough that she’s not about to lose it any second but Chloe knows it’s barreling down on her again. “You taste so good,” she says between licks.

Beca moans in answer and Chloe feels the wetness increase again. She can hear it, too. It’s obscene. It sends her other hand between her own legs to pick up where Beca left off.

“I’m going to make myself come,” she says before sucking pointedly on Beca’s clit. “Don’t you dare come with me.”

“What?” Beca laughs somewhat desperately. “Fuck, okay.”

The obedience makes Chloe moan and she fucks herself, rubbing hard circles into her clit. She embellishes her moans to make it even harder for Beca to resist until she’s moaning again and again into Beca’s pussy, coming as Beca clenches around her wantonly.

She looks up at Beca when it passes but she can’t see her face, not with how Beca’s leaning forward, eyes squeezed closed, face determined and desperate to obey as Chloe comes without her, still fucking her, not letting her let go.

“That felt so good,” she says. “You turn me on so much, Beca.”

“Yeah, same,” Beca answers quickly.

“I think after I let you come…” she says it thoughtfully even as she lavishes attention on Beca’s impossibly swollen clit, “I’m going to take you to bed,” she gives it a long suck, “bend you over,” she curls her fingers and massages them into the spot that makes Beca’s eyes roll back, “and fuck you so hard you’ll feel it at your show tomorrow,” Beca’s entire body is trembling with the need for release, “in front of twelve thousand people and you’ll remember the way you’re going to be such a good girl for me and take my strap all night.”

She knows Beca’s losing her grip on her orgasm. Chloe can feel it starting, pulsing around her fingers and she thinks she might need it as much as Beca does.

“Come for me, Beca,” she says and immediately slides her tongue into her as she withdraws her fingers, using them instead to stroke her clit. She can see Beca’s wetness and how it’s all the way to Chloe’s wrist and she groans as the way Beca’s cunt contracts so hard around her tongue she couldn’t remove it even if she wanted to.

‘Massive’ isn’t the term for it.

Beca’s orgasm is earth-shattering and Chloe’s free hand has to shoot up to press against her chest to keep her from toppling forward and over the back of the couch as it rocks her again and again, voice ringing in Chloe’s ears.

Chloe feels Beca’s knees buckling as it passes and she catches her as she folds until she’s sitting in Chloe’s lap again, slumped against her forehead-to-forehead. Both of them are breathless but Beca’s far more winded and Chloe gives her a chance to recover, hands moving slowly and gently over her back, to her hair which she lifts away from her neck to help her cool down. Her blouse sticks to her skin and she feels kind of bad she didn’t let Beca take it off before, but she hasn’t complained about it.

“Fuck,” Beca finally says with a weak laugh as she lifts her head and sits back enough that they can look at each other comfortably, her hands toying with the hem of Chloe’s shirt, still on despite it all. “What the fuck, Chlo?” She smiles as she says it. She brings her hand up to wipe at Chloe’s face. “You’re a mess.”

Chloe smiles in return and lets Beca clean her off. “Problem?”

Beca cocks her head to the side and huffs again, not quite a laugh. “Uh, no. But can you take this off now? You’re overdressed.” She tugs at Chloe’s shirt and Chloe lets her remove it, lifting her arms so she can slip it over her head.

“Better?” she asks, even though she knows it’s definitely better. Her body is on fire and the cool air is a godsend.

“Much,” Beca says as she tosses Chloe’s shirt aside to rest her hands on her bare shoulders.

“So,” Chloe starts after a few comfortable seconds of silence, hands wandering around Beca’s ass to her waist where she finally finishes unbuttoning Beca’s shirt. “Still think it was fun to be touched by that other woman?” She cocks an eyebrow as she says it.

She knows Beca knows she is the one in control of what happens next; they both know what will happen depending on her answer. One answer will send them to the bedroom and Beca onto all-fours. The other will send them to the shower to clean up while they wait for room service to bring them something to eat.

Beca rakes her hands through her own wild hair after she lets Chloe flip her shirt over her shoulders and off to leave her fully naked in Chloe’s lap. Her eyes are still dark, as are her well-kissed lips which start to curve into a smile. “Yeah, I had a great time. I wonder if she’s free. Maybe we could invite her to join us?”

“Fuck you,” Chloe laughs before kissing her. “Hold on,” she mumbles against her lips and feels Beca wrap her arms around Chloe’s neck and her legs around her waist so she can stand to carry Beca to the bedroom.

“Make me feel it tomorrow,” Beca whispers before kissing her as they cross the threshold into the bedroom.

Chloe drops her onto the bed with a smile. “You will. Turn around.”

The End

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fanfic #pitch perfect #bechloe fic #it's smut #surprise!

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theinvisibledreamergirl · 3 years

Text

Has everything changed?

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Klaw Craig)

Words count: ~ 2.5k

Category: Angst

A.N: Sooo I know that I’m late but with everything that happened in the first episode of OH Book 3 I decided to do some changes. I know you’ll hate me. Waiting for your thoughts!

MASTERLIST

———————————————————

The third year of residency began for our doctors of Edenbrook Hospital. Sorry BloomBrook Hospital. Oops again it’s Bloom Edenbrook ladies and gentlemen. Mistakes happen please.

More like a broom which has cleaned all of what the old hospital looked like.

And it had cleaned people’s character too.

And she knew this was going to happen one day. Before she would sleep her mind would go in the most irrelevant thoughts and think about what rich people can do to the other category.

The middle classes and the poor ones.

Of course she was part of the rich people but never spent her money for her pleasure nor she did accept her parents money to live. Because she wanted to be independent and to show that she could do everything on her own until the day of being a doctor came.

Her friends were the most excited ones to see the big changes of their new (as she would call) “tourists attraction” hospital and the facilities that were put in every corner like it was a casino’s place or a museum with advanced technology equipments. She didn’t share the same thoughts with them. When Jackie, Bryce and Rafael invited her to the massage place she refused it and said the same thing to Elijah for playing ping pong. While Sienna was enjoying the new coffee machine Aurora saw her leaving the rest room with a concerned look.

“Hey.” She took her arm gently. “You okay? You seem to be lost on yourself.”

“Do I really give that impression?”

“Well if we don’t see you carefully then it is obvious. Look... I know that your tensing and I can imagine what’s like but I think we should try to fit into this kind of-“

“Change? No thanks. I don’t think I will... I just need to go Aurora and please tell the others that I’m in an operation room.”

“Sure...as you wish Klaw. But if you need to talk again I’m here. We are here.”

She only nodded with a smile.

Klaw wasn’t mad about this. Of course she wanted the best for the hospital and in many others too. To provide everything in need for the patients. But the thing she worried about was the fact that Leland would be always sneaking into the diagnostics office and reminding her team to work about his wife’s case. She didn’t know how someone like him can be such a deliberate and a money maniac to take over a hospital which he didn’t have any idea how to actually handle it.

Klaw had a fear that his stubbornness and insistence will give serious affects to all of the medical staff and all of this façade would break down (that she really hoped) one day and someone else would direct it.

She was thinking of someone who knows all the struggles, all the concerns and all the medical training staff.

The one and only.

Dr. Naveen Banerji.

He was the best option for her to be not only the chief but the boss of this building. One of the most hardworking doctors in his forty years of experience in the field of medicine- who else could surpass him?

But he was nowhere to be seen and Klaw started to worry if Bloom had done something to him. She could feel a pang on her chest that something wasn’t right.

All of this glorious and masquerade day would be soon vanished and then the real face of Leland Bloom would appear and no one- not even the bravest doctors could face him if he or she didn’t want to lose their jobs.

She had to find the answers.

Ethan.

She opened the door of Diagnostics Office where she finds unexpectedly Harper Emery seated comfortably on her chair, Ethan the same too and also a never-seen-such pensive Baz staring blankly at a point. She could understand his condition right now and she wanted nothing more than to give him a friends comfort hug.

It was really strange to see Harper in the diagnostics team but in the same time she was glad for her presence as with her intelligence could help the team solving the cases. In fact she was hoping if Jackie or Aurora would join the team because they both have worked hard for the place she was holding now. But maybe because June was an attending it had to be replaced by another attending considering that Harper wasn’t anymore the Chief of Medicine. She congratulated her, gave a hug and then began with their first case.

Ethan could feel that even behind of that smile and reasonable face of his resident was something doubtful that he knew very well. Maybe it was about Harper’s appearance. He knew that she wasn’t jealous and never would be. Klaw had such an ego that sometimes had scared him and many times he thought that if her character was really like this. He should’ve told her before Harper would join the team and felt somehow guilty about it considering now that their past was gone for good.

In the meantime a voice interrupted them which definitely made them annoyed. Especially her.

“Well here’s our best diagnostics team working along fighting to beat the impossible things!” He saw their hardened gazes as he leaned on the door. “Am I interrupting something doctors?”

Klaw’s chest was rising and falling from his scrutinised face that asked such a dumb question and couldn’t even hold herself. “Yes you are interrupting us. Are you happy now?”

“Ouch Dr. Craig.” He acted as if he was hurt. “That was really mean. I expected better from you and your leaving during my speech gave me a slight concern.” His voice was playful and didn’t seem to care that much what the young resident just admitted.

Yes- she left. When he grabbed the microphone standing in the center of everyone up in the railway and giving his speech of the new Edenbrook she couldn’t stand it and walked away while digging fingers on her palms whereas her friends were still standing there listening.

Her debate with Bloom when he gave the cheque- that day was still imprinted on her mind and couldn’t forget it. She ripped it without thinking twice. Not even taking her friend’s or Ethan’s opinion because she knew the game of the rich: ‘Once you give your palm, they take your arm.’ And she knew he remembered too- the scene in front of her still fresh on her mind.

“I will never and ever make compromise with someone like you because I know how you are going to treat us. Firstly you’ll just do some cocktails party and you’ll build all the facilities the hospital needs until everyone would be gawked by your marvelous project. Then after seeing these the doctors and the nurses will forget their duties and start to have much more fun with their high wages that a hell knows what will happen next and then all this thing of yours will turn not into a hospital- but into a circus. And you will be the main clown.”

He then admired her witty response and said it was just a testing for her but she could tell that he was pissed off when she left his mansion.

By the way Mr. Bloom your constant trying to make the impossible to possible will be a failure. I suggest to you to spend your time with something much more valuable.

And she hoped he would give up. But no.

“You should be worried.” She replied angrily not breaking her glare.

“Dr. Craig.” Ethan reminded again and gave her a stoic expression to not continue it anymore because it wasn’t worthy. She silenced herself letting him handle it. “Yes Leland do you have any issues that you came here suddenly?”

“Oh nothing at all... just wanted to see how your team selects the cases.”

Is he serious?

“Simple. I review the available cases and select the ones most needing our attention. Why? Are you planning to ‘overhaul’ that process as well?”

“Oh not at all! Your team’s reputation is stellar, so you’re clearly doing something right.” Said with a chuckle. “Rest assured, I want to make sure you still choose cases that interest and challenge you. That part won’t be changed.”

Ethan nodded in agreement or almost in agreement. “Right as I was saying-.”

“I only have one request. I want this team to run more democratically... horizontal leadership if you will. In my experience, hierarchies are the death of good ideas.”

Klaw narrowed her eyebrows to a shocking-but-composing-himself Ethan knowingly as if giving him a message.

‘You wanted to deal with him? Here he is. Right in front of you.’

Harper saw her hardened gaze fixated to Ethan as they exchanged quick glances. She knew they were both stubborn people but never thought Klaw would react such in that way towards Leland. It wasn’t her. Harper knew her limits and she needed a bit of comfort later.

“But...why?” Baz finally asked and it was weird to Klaw that she was hearing his voice now. This was a strange feeling. “Our team has worked perfectly with Ethan’s leadership... and if you’re impressed with your results...”

“Ahh but what if those results could be even more impressive? We can’t know without at least running a test.”

Ethan scratched his beard in thoughts. “I see your point. You’re saying that every team needs its own leadership.” Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea to him he thought even though he didn’t want to agree with everything he said.

“Exactly! I’m glad you understood it! So your votes are-?”

“Obviously I vote for yes. I think there’s no one else who could say no.”

“I’m with Ethan since he’s the expert here. Baz what about you?” Harper asked.

“Oh me? Uhm... yeah I vote the same way.”

“Wha-“

“What about you Dr. Craig?” This time it was Leland who was asking while cutting Harper to do the same. Harper tried to smile even though she was annoyed too.

That seemed to get her attention back to reality. Because she was pretending to not listen to them even though it was disrespectful and she didn’t care.

While they were talking she got a message from Edgar that Naveen hadn’t been in the hospital today altogether with Zaid and Simon. What the hell was going on? Have these men been dusted from Bloom or what? Whatever the reason her suspicions were going to form the puzzle inside of her mind. And she hoped it wouldn’t be an unsolved issue.

“I vote for... No.” She said indifferently catching everyone’s attention. Ethan’s especially while he was parting his lips. “I don’t think that we are prepared well enough to form new leaderships in our new teams. We need to do a lot of training for interns and residents who want to be part of this kind of programme and I think is going to take a lot of time.”

“I see...Well sorry to say it but the most wins Dr. Craig.” His expression was in an amusing way. “And I think you should agree with the new...changes.”

“Of course I will Mr. Bloom.” She said with a plastered smile but surely was cursing under her breath.

With that he left the office when his phone rang giving them now the space the doctors needed. They discussed the case and set the treatment but the resident was not so much interested on it as that rat face wouldn’t get out from her mind. Harper and Baz had already left and she was about to do the same but his voice (as always) stopped her.

“Can we talk a bit?”

“For what? About how I seem to you right now? Jealous to Harper?” She scoffed.

“What? I didn’t say anything and my discussion is n-.”

“You didn’t but yet I can see that. Your eyes are telling me that you still think I am that clueless intern girl right?”

“How can you even think about this? I’ve never called you clueless and I know that you’re not jealous about Harper.”

She looked like she wasn’t believing him and it worried him as how was possible that she had lost it? Did she lost his trust? Then before he could add something else she didn’t let him speak again.

“How could you agree with him?” Obviously the question was for Bloom and Ethan was thinking for mere seconds if she heard his words before or not.

“It was the only way.”

“You think by siding with him everything would go as flowing as it was?”

This was already too much to him. Enough was enough.

“And with your behaviour you think you can solve anything?” He spit back.

“Excuse me?” She frowned shockingly.

“Yes- your snarky, ironic responses are not helping us and we’re just losing our time instead of doing our job!”

“So you think that just because I didn’t agree with you and with the others my opinion doesn’t matter? Oh wait I forgot you are my boss and I should do as you please huh? Well if you are wrong then you are Dr. Ramsey so I won’t shut up my mouth when there’s injustice here!”

“This is not about injustice here! It has been since in the ancient times and no one has ever stopped it!” When he saw where the debate was going he decided to ease it a bit. He didn’t want to fight with her. “Look I’m worried too as much as you are but you don’t have to act like this.”

She said those words before she could stop them. She regretted so much. “Oh you care about me so much don’t you!”

That behaviour.

That cold demeanour.

That selfish character was back and was slapped at Ethan’s face.

He thought she had changed a bit.

From what he remembered from her first year her behaviour was only because of avoiding her feelings but this- was entirely something else.

Egoistic. Which he didn’t except that.

He clearly was disappointed given after everything they’ve been through these past three years.

Something was for sure- she would never change and felt a pang on his chest that now it wasn’t his fault about this.

It was hers.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said- GET OUT!” His anger was raised so much that made her jolt. That authoritative voice was back again and her heartbeats accelerated. “Until you don’t get your shit together don’t even try to step in this office!”

She knew she had crossed her limits by her words. She had hurt him so badly that there was no excuse of making up with him so instead she walked out and slammed the door behind it.

He knew he had crossed his limits too. If he could analyse it overall she was right in a way. Leland was trying to be everywhere and meddling with his theories about how a medical team should work and how the medicine should be which was completely out of his league.

Both of them were madly in love but this time the scars of the past seemed to not leave them alone.

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

P. S: Ouch this was damnnnn. Thank you for reading folks. And guess what? Now I have downloaded tumblr on my phone which gives me much more time to edit and write fics. If school gives me time of course 🙄 And if you have seen emojis from me lately yeah it’s because of new iphone 😂😂😂 And do you want a 2nd part of this? Let me know!

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

PART TWO

#open heart fan fiction #open heart choices #open heart fan fic #ethan ramsey #my mc #klaw craig #ethan ramsey x mc #klaw x ethan #my writing #OH book 3 rewrite

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galactichen · 4 years

Text

exo masterlist

all full length scenarios + drabbles can be found here for exo. please do not plagiarize any of my works!

note: former members (luhan, kris, tao) can be found in a separate masterlist featuring solo artists. also added in a cut b/c this is really long LMAO

♡ - tina’s faves

[ updated as of 5/17/2020 ]

E X O S C E N A R I O S

all that matters || angst

home ♡ || china line ft. parents; angst

qui gagné? || casino au ft. xiuchenkai; general, slightly suggestive

O P T I O N A L B I A S

melodic memories || non-idol au; angst

sentimental || non-idol au; angst

X I U M I N Scenarios

reminiscence || mama au; angst

seraphic ♡ || blind!xiumin x reader; fluff

snowflake || fluff!

Drabbles

“science motherfucker”

“i am not cute goddamn it I am intimidating”

“i absolutely despise the heat”

“let’s try that again. maybe without sneezing this time.”

“oh, there’s that creep. quick, hold my hand and he might not come here.”

truth [ werewolf!xiumin ]

“i thought you trusted me...” [ mafia au?? rivals?? idk ]

S U H O Scenarios

childhood ♡ || merman!suho x reader; romance, angst

dream girl || highschool au; fluff, slight crack?

perfection || university au; angst, general

Series

soulmate au :: [1] [2] Everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate.

Drabbles

forehead kiss + “i missed you” kiss

“call me when you get home”

“i don’t care” [ policeman!suho ]

“you don’t know how it’s like to love someone who sees you as a friend...”

“goddamn it, why are you so sweet”

“sweetie, I appreciate the thought, but I meant a 50c package of reeses, I didn’t need the whole candy aisle”

“why are you in a tree”

“what are you talking about? i am very mature” + “it-it’s nothing, but my favourite character just died...”

L A Y Scenarios

cold hands || fluff!!

for you || fluuuff

Drabbles

awkward kiss

jealous kiss

“can I have this dance?”

“you are so important to me”

late night drives

“you smell nice. did you know that?”

“you smell nice. did you know that?” (this one’s different lol)

never again [ vampire!lay ]

to rest in peace [ ghost!lay ]

“no, I didn’t fall in love with you just to lose you” + “you don’t know how it’s like to love someone who sees you as a friend...”

B A E K H Y U N

Blurbs

[ why i chose you ]

Scenarios

fragments || non idol au; angst

friends || fluff, slight angst

mistakes || highschool au; general

i’m here || college au; angst

Series

soulmate au :: [1] [2] [3] [4] ONGOING A mark appears where your soulmate touches you.

Drabbles

“do you need water? a snack? maybe a hot bath?”

“your brother just left with a 24-pack of bud ready to party, and we’re sitting in front of the TV with Netflix and fancy cheese”

“you look...”

poolside fun! [ lifeguard!baekhyun ]

“i’ll beat you at this game one day”

“you smell nice. did you know that?”

“stop leaving sticky notes everywhere”

“don’t be stupid, i’m not leaving you”

“i’m not what you think i am” [ werewolf!baekhyun ]

C H E N

Blurbs

[ the choice of a spirit ]

Scenarios

affection || non-idol au; fluffery fluff

better late than never ♡ || normal verse!au; angst, bit of fluff

cheerleader || highschool au; fluff

hold me tight, don’t let me go || biker au; romance

light bulbs || neighbour au; fluff, slight crack

nevermore || non-idol au; angst

voicemail ♡ ♡ || highschool au; a n g s t

Series

soulmate au :: [1] [2] [3] Where people age until age 18, and then stop aging until they meet their soulmate so they can age together.

Drabbles

kiss in the rain

kiss on the forehead

“i almost lost you” kiss

“wow”

“go back to sleep”

“what? are you jealous or something?”

“i don’t know whether to kiss you or punch you”

“i’m very busy right now and you’re distracting me”

“i am not cute goddammit I am intimidating”

sneaking out

late night walks on the beach

“who said you could take a cold shower, especially without me?”

picnics in the car!

“...why are you in a tree”

“shut up i’m tanning”

“your hands are warm”

“...is that... is that my shirt”

be sorry for your sins [ mama au ]

“babe... we have a whole hour by ourselves...”

“wait a minute, are you being nice to me? but it isn’t my birthday”

“you may be the love of my life, but there is no way in hell am I wearing that”

“this is all your fault, genius”

false guesses [ mafia au ] ♡

“no trust me, I am the dev- shut up, I am not adorable”

C H A N Y E O L Scenarios

adorable || college au; fluff

cute^2 || non-idol au; fluff

it’s okay || angst

they don’t know || highschool au; angst, fluff

what is love || non-idol au; angst

Drabbles

angry kiss

“sorry I made you wait”

“here, take my jacket”

“you don’t know how it’s like to love someone who sees you as a friend...” + “do you know how hard i’m trying not to kiss you right now?”

“i just got out from babysitting and I am having my tubes tied immediately”

“see, this is why we’re together. no one else could handle our terrible puns”

“do we need lessons on how ziploc bags work?”

sneaking out + concert night

summer shopping spree

“no stop being cute right now i’m trying to be productive”

“one more pun and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight”

“this isn’t exactly the best place for a makeout session, but i’m open to anything”

“could you stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you?” + “I swear; if you die, i’ll kill you” [ mafia au ]

“what are you talking about? i am very mature”

“you may be the love of my life, but there is no way in hell am I wearing that”

“you and I came wearing matching/couple costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating?? but shit, you’re cute, can I have your number?”

K Y U N G S O O Scenarios

best friend || highschool au; angst

home || pure f l u f f

proper farewell ♡ || fluff, angst

sweet kisses || fluff

unfair || highschool au; romance, fluff

Series

soulmate au :: [1] [2] [3] You don’t remember anything from your past life, but your soulmate does.

Drabbles

kiss on the forehead

“you can never have too many fans”

“why the fuck is it so hot outside” + “who said you could have a cold shower, especially without me?”

ice cream dates + late night drives

“...why are you in a tree” [ dad!ksoo uwu ]

ice cream dates

“don’t be stupid, i’m not leaving you”

masquerade party

“run away. now” [ vampire!ksoo ]

K A I

Blurbs

[ a bliss with every breath. ]

Scenarios

oh, right || fluffery fluff f l u f f

serenade no.1 ♡ || kingdom au; fluff

sleepy ♡ || f l u f f

sweatshirt || college au; fluff, slight slight angst

thank you || fluff, romance

you did it || non-idol au; fluff, angst angst

Drabbles

jealous kiss

“sorry i’m late”

“can you hold me?”

“everything hurts and i’m dying, but i’m not pregnant this month so that’s nice”

“who said you could take a cold shower, especially without me?”

“...is that... is that my shirt”

not like him [ vampire!kai]

“no, I didn’t fall in love with you just to lose you”

S E H U N

Blurbs / Timestamps

[ 9:54 pm ]

Scenarios

confession overdue ♡ || non-idol au; fluff, angst

night out (on memory lane) || highschool au; romance

polaroid || college au; romance, angst

spontaneous || highschool au; romance

why || non-idol au; a n g s t

Drabbles

kiss on the neck

“wait a minute, are you drunk?”

“science motherfucker”

“remind me why i’m dating you again. please”

“you may want to hide the alcohol because I may die from how much and how badly I want to drink right now”

“i am not cute goddammit I am intimidating”

“see, this is why we’re together. no one else could handle our terrible puns”

“shut up i’m tanning”

“...i’ll sleep on the couch with you”

“i love you more than you love me”

“my horoscope says no”

184 notes · View notes

nymphl · 5 years

Text

Bloodbound - A vampire!Hux x Reader - Ch. 1 - Tangled up in Red or... the bloody Journalist

A/N - Hi, darlings! xD Welcome to the first chapter (named 1st, but actually the 2nd installment xD) of Bloodbound. As promised, here I am to upload to tumblr chapter 1. Before I forget, this story is non linear, so I’ll be going back and forth in its chapters. If you enjoy this chapter, you may give me some notes or leave a comment here, reblogs are also very much appreciated; anything will do xD To those who’ve done it for the Prologue, my biggest thanks and I love you all <3 I hope you like it and liked I said... here on the chapters will get bigger, ok? Happy reading <3

Story summary: Bound by blood… After you left the First Order and joined the Resistance, moved with a deep hatred for General Armitage Hux, you never expected to meet said man in a Gala in Canto Bight, nor that your past was intimately interlaced with his. When the past is written in blood, can you start anew, a new chapter of your own, or are you forever bound to him? When all is said and done, can you still keep on hating a man who has all eternity to hate himself?

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 tags: from lovers to enemies; from enemies to lovers; partners to lovers; eventual romance; vampire!hux; vampires in space; vampires, blood, blood binds; First Order; Resistance; power play; politics; Hux backstory; political alliances; political betrayals; vampire sex; shameless smut; memory loss; mesmerizing; vampire powers; vampire politics; Starkiller Base; military prowess; empire; emperor; Emperor!Hux; dhampirs.

Wordcount: 7403.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT CHAPTER

Canto Bight Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Six hours ago

“ENOUGH.”

Several pairs of eyes focused on you as the words — a bit louder than you intended — left your lips. With a small smile, you tilted your head in a polite gesture and continued to glide along the illustrious guests.

On the other side of the connection, the silence lasted but a second. Soon, your ears were filled with a loud, incessant argument that in spite of your attempts, you couldn’t make a thing of.

This time, when you spoke, you were careful to place a wineglass in front of your lips. Even if you despised Canto Casino and the annoying Galas to which only the wealthiest — thus the nastiest — were invited, you couldn’t say you hated it when they served Bespin Port. By far, that was one of the finest wines you’ve tasted in your entire life.

“I said enough!”

“But mom—” And once more, even if you tried, you couldn’t understand what the twins were saying. You felt like rolling your eyes, but stopped before you could draw more attention to yourself.

“Don’t mom on me!” You placed your wineglass in a nearby tray and took another with a small smile. “Nik, you go first!”

“But mom! I’m—

“The oldest, Steela, I know.” I was there when you were born, remember? you felt like saying. Instead, you inhaled deeply; your patience wearing thin. “This time, let’s do it in alphabetical order, shall we? Nik, you may start.”

You were about to say that if one of them said mom again, you’d… Before you could finish the thought, you spotted different security guards from what you were used to whenever the feeble General Mitaka attended those annoying Galas in Cantonica.

“Okay…” You bit your bottom lip. “Can we talk about it when I get home?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Don’t— Oh!” You shook your head. You were so used to your children going But mom all over you, it was a surprise when they simply complied. Your eyes softened a little. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Your heart clenched with guilty. If your children spent so much time arguing and yelling at each other, it was because that was one of the fastest ways to get your attention.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the anger boiling inside of you.

How could you blame them when you were the one to spend so much time outside? Being a single mom wasn’t easy for anybody, but between your job, the Resistance and parenting — even after seven years, you were still getting the hang of it — things tended to get a bit messy from time to time. Honestly, it was far easier when the twins were just toddlers smearing their clothes all over the house. Far more tiring as well — you recalled how you’d nurse them and at the same time do your little magic and jam the First Order with your cunning words. There were times in which Nik would leave the nursery, crawl all over the house and sleep with his pillow at your feet in one of those endless nights in which you had to force yourself to keep awake while you wrote something for The Canto Bight Gazette.

“But mom!”

And there we go…

A tired sigh left you. Yeah, things were way easier back then.

“Steela, not now.” This time, when a waiter passed nearby, you took a glass with Corellian brandy and drank it in one gulp. Your hands were trembling slightly — part of you wished you could for once get at least a bit lightheaded. If General Mitaka wasn’t the one to attend the Gala tonight, you feared you wouldn’t be able to uncover the truth regarding some negotiations regarding both the First Order and the Resistance. “We’ll talk when I get home. I love you two. Over and out.”

Before any of them could say anything else — before they could go mom on you —, you shut off the connection. With a deep breath, you scanned the entire Ballroom, looking for any clues that General Mitaka had just been promoted — to Grand-Marshall, hopefully — and the Supreme Leader — or Emperor as you affectionately dubbed him — merely decided to improve his loyal employee’s security and thus his standing in society.

So far, all you could see — apart from the new security guards — was the wealthiest people from all over the Galaxy dressed in black and white, drinking to their hearts content. Some of them had their eyes glued on you, watching you with hawk-like attention through their expensive masks.

Part of you wondered if it was the lack of a mask or the fact you weren’t dressed in the same colors as them or… even because you were a renowned journalist. Or so they thought.

In fact, no one could say you didn’t do your job right. You did. It’s just… You had another job. Being a columnist for The Canto Bight Gazette was something you did occasionally… Something you prided yourself for being a part of, your main activity, but a disguise for what you did undercover.

In such dark times, it felt only right to be a part of the Resistance — both in practical and intellectual terms. As far as you knew, the new Supreme Leader wanted to give off an impression that his precious First Order wasn’t an authoritarian organization. As if… The talk about Freedom Press could only go so far… It could only deceive a few…

…And certainly not you.

You wondered what General Organa would say if she knew what plans you had in store for tonight. You bet she’d reprimand you; ask for you to leave at once, and this time she’d have Commander Dameron’s support — and even the Maker would find it surprising for them to agree over a topic.

“Widow?”

Speaking of the devil…

You nodded, forgetting completely that you were equipped with an archaic technology that contrary to a usual comm didn’t allow you to see your collocutor’s face, “I’m working, Dameron.”

“So am I, Minara.”

A shiver ran down your spine at how he addressed you. It wasn’t your true surname, but ever since you left the First Order — you could barely believe it was almost a decade ago —, you decided to lay low for the sake of your children — and your own safety — and took in another last name.

“Are you at the Gala?” he asked. If there was something you liked about Poe Dameron was the fact he went straight to the topic. Friendship aside, both of you were working right now.

“Yes,” you replied, accepting a Green Champagne a passerby waiter offered you. Dear Maker, when would the alcohol start taking effect? “Why?”

“And I assume you didn’t get the ‘black and white masquerade memo’.”

You smirked.

“You know me so well.”

There was silence for a moment. You could almost see his face contorting in the telltales of a smirk. You smiled in spite of yourself.

“I’d advise against red—

“Oh… I’m already wearing it.” You brought the glass to your crimson-colored lips, tasting the champagne. The bubbly beverage was refreshing, if not a bit sugarier than the Port you’d just had.

“It’d be way easier for you to just put a target on your back.”

You sighed.

“Who knows? Perhaps I want to draw attention.”

As a journalist, you were always seeking attention. You didn’t become the main columnist for The Canto Bight Gazette by keeping a low profile. In fact, it was because of your meddlesome behavior that you could get valuable information for the Resistance and, once in a while, get Dopheld Mitaka talking. Part of you pitied him — he’d been the one to support you when you needed most; if not for him, you’d probably be on the streets, begging for credits so you could feed your children —, but it wasn’t your fault he wouldn’t leave the bad guys.

General Mitaka was a good man — more than you could say about the Supreme Leader, a man you hated with every fiber in your being. He just had… To see it. The day he removed the blindfold they put in his eyes, he’d know he’s been fighting for the wrong side all along. For now, you were grateful he didn’t rat you out and fed you tiny bits of information concerning that hateful organization of his once in a while.

“What for?” His voice dragged you from your thoughts. It sounded genuinely confused for a moment, but shortly after — as if the whole galaxy made sense again — he added, “The twins again? Did they tie D-Five up?”

You even opened your mouth to comment on how difficult it was getting to keep those two off each other’s throats, but closed it immediately. The orchestra had just stopped playing and the soft, pleasant notes were smothered by the imperious silence. Then, a few whispers here and there — barely recognizable for anyone but you —, hit your ears.

“Minara?”

You furrowed your brows. A few guests shifted their attention to the main doors located at the entrance of the Ballroom. You followed their gaze, seeking confirmation for what you’ve heard when you saw it, a tall man with strikingly ginger hair crossing the threshold with Dopheld Mitaka on his heels.

A gasp left you — and several other guests as well.

“Say, Dameron…” You wetted your bottom lip. “Does the Emperor appear in your guest list?”

“What?” You grimaced as he all but shouted in your ear. Kriffs! “Emperor as in Supreme Leader… As in Armitage Hux? The tall, skinny guy? Kinda pasty?”

“Do we know any other?” It wasn’t like the Propaganda Boy — or Poster boy, as you once called him in one of your sharp comments in the beginning of your own career as a journalist — shied away from state posters. His face was very, very remarkable. You used to stare at one of his holovids wondering why you hated him so much. Needless to say, you never found an answer.

You shook your head and cast a glance at your left hand. Your fingers were trembling around the glass. You didn’t even understand your own reaction. “Poe?”

“Minara... Leave.”

You even thought about saying you couldn’t — the Emperor and General Mitaka had already spotted you; the latter had his eyes widened —, but the words died in your mouth before you could speak them out loud. You stared at both of them, unable to even step aside — like all the other guests did.

For the first time, you really felt like you had a target on your back.

“Minara?”

It was with relief that you felt a corpulent man with a feathery mask enclosing his hand around your wrist and pulling you aside. As if the spell had been broken, you shot him a grateful smile. You didn’t know him, but you felt like you owed your life to him.

“Minara?”

Swallowing, you walked to the outskirts of the Ballroom, trying to get invisible. Suddenly, you regretted wearing red tonight. If you knew the Emperor himself would show up at this kriffing Gala, you’d have stuck to the black and white boring dress code.

“Poe… If anything happens to me, please…”

“Minara?” His voice was raspy; the connection was getting worse. "Are you leaving?”

“Please, take care of Nik and Steela. Over and out.”

Canto Bight Police Headquarters, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Now

You spat your blood on the floor. With extreme care, you moved your head from side to side. It ached. A lot. Even your wrists, bound with heavy handcuffs, were a source of discomfort.

For the past two hours, you spent in the company of a young police officer — really, the man was fresh as a baby; you could bet it was his first interrogation —, being questioned. For… your own safety, they said.

You could’ve smiled if your jaw didn’t hurt so much. The coppery taste of blood in your lips left you partly nauseated — and for the Maker, you’d lose it if you tasted any more of your own blood tonight — but you fought off such reaction and focused on the task at hand. It is, getting out of this stinking cell in Canto Bight Police Headquarters.

If you knew you’d get caught so quickly, you’d never have asked Poe to hack Cantonica Radio 1 and broadcast news regarding the construction of a new Death Star — which they ominously baptized Starkiller — with hopes to destroy the Hosnian System and, Hosnian Prime, the Capital of the New Republic — the uttermost symbol of resistance against the tyranny that kriffing organization represented in the Galaxy. You’d hoped to at least be able to flee the city — in the impossibility of fleeing the planet so soon —, but your boss was fast to appoint you as the one behind the news.

A sigh escaped you.

Honestly, you didn’t regret it one bit. Every single soul residing or even passing by the Corporate Sector had listened to the voice report. Besides the allegation of your boss — out of sheer despair; you didn’t judge the man that harshly — there wasn’t a single proof you were the journalist responsible for the news report.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The whispered voice made you shift your attention back to the man in front of you. He paced from one side to the other.

“I really, really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You almost rolled your eyes.

“You didn’t.”

He grimaced; guilt evident in his vibrant irises. He approached you, with a handkerchief in his left hand, but you shook your head.

“You’re supposed to interrogate me, not to me help me.”

He lowered his head, as if ashamed. In that moment, he resembled General Mitaka — from when he was a mere Officer and later a Lieutenant. You did you best to brush off such memories and stared at him.

“I-It’s just…” He bailed his fists. “It’s just not right…”

“Listen to me.” You waited till he stared back at you to continue, “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I didn’t prevent him from hurting you either.”

That much was true — yet, you didn’t judge him either; it seemed you were in a forgiving mood today. His boss, the Police Chief, was the one to assault you. What could you say? You once wrote a news reporting regarding the endemic corruption in the corporation. As a result, he’d been removed from office for a year or so, before he returned and was actually promoted.

You closed your eyes, attuning to the approaching steps outside. The sound was vastly different from when the Police Chief dragged you to one of the interrogation rooms. Soon, the steps came to a halt and a voice was heard.

“Your Highness…” There was a small pause; the speaker sounded surprised. “The culprit is being interrogated right now. You sh—

There was no answer from the other part. That or your heart was beating so madly against your ribcages you couldn’t hear anything else.

You sucked in a breath, trying to control yourself, so you could listen to the conversation unfolding. Sadly, your hearing wasn’t as good as your children’s and it was even worse after the incident — if you could qualify that as such — with the Emperor. However, that wasn’t so easy. The bloody Emperor — Supreme Leader, you’d better call him by his right title — was in the CBPD to visit — or kill, maybe — you.

There was absolutely no reason to believe he came to free you.

And here you were, expecting to be freed by the end of the night. Or, at least, the next day. You could only hope your children were alright. And away from your house. So much for wishful thinking…

In a few more seconds — or a few more steps — an officer opened the door of the interrogation room, holding it open for the Emperor to come in. You bit your bottom lip as he stared at your form, bluish eyes darkening at your disheveled appearance. Before the officer could speak — or even the approaching and breathless Police Chief could open his mouth —, he cut them to it, his voice sounding imperious and unbelievably cold,

“Uncuff her.”

Canto Bight Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Four hours ago

It took a few minutes and some more glasses of Green Champagne for you to calm down.

Kriffs!

The Emperor — and you really, really ought to stop calling him that, however difficult it was —, his presence… it changed everything.

Ever since you’ve found out the First Order started working on a second Death Star, you’ve seen more and more planets pledge their loyalty to them. Cantonica was one of the few planets that decided to remain neutral… So far. If Cantonica could show some strength by choosing independence, so could other planets.

If the Emperor decided to show his face at this Gala, it was either because he was trying to woo the Representatives of Cantonica, or because… You swallowed at the idea… He already had their loyalty.

Downing the Green Champagne at once, you placed the glass on a tray and walked towards your boss. The owner of the most important newspaper in all the Corporate Sector would know. He’d have to.

Honestly, you were counting on the first scenario — in such case it wasn’t all lost and you somehow could… make them see reason. Well, not exactly you, but someone else… Your boss, Nilim Taa, for example. But if it was the second… You didn’t want to think about it.

For the maker!

You plastered a smile on your face and made your way to him. A huge man, the Rutian Twi’lek of 7 feet and massive bodily proportions, he hid whomever he was talking to.

Even before you could reach him, he turned to you. An inviting, warm smile on his lips as he outstretched his hand for you.

You smiled back, but it was short-lived. Casting a curious glance to his companion, you spotted the one his huge frame concealed. You swallowed.

“Minara, what a pleasure.” His voice, an eternal singsong, didn’t make you feel at ease as it always did. “Let me introduce you to our esteemed Supreme Leader, Armitage Hux.”

You bowed your head slightly and offered your trembling hand for him to shake — you could only hope neither would notice how nervous you were. However, he all but surprised you when he brought it to his lips and bestowed a gentlemanly kiss on your knuckles.

“This is Minara,” your boss announced you. “(Y/N) Minara.” He smiled. “Minara has some problems following the guidelines,” he finished, shaking his head because of the lack of a mask and the proper black and white clothes — and, if you could probably add, because of other things to. “But she’s one of the finest journalists out there.”

The Emperor didn’t seem to mind this or simply decided not to comment on it — if he did, you could promptly comment he wasn’t wearing a mask either, it is, if you dared to look at him. Needless to say, you were unable to meet his eyes. Yours remained on the floor, looking at your high heels. In any case, a shiver ran down your spine at the contact with his cold lips.

“Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Miss Minara,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued to hold your hand.

Unable to find your own voice, you merely nodded.

“She usually isn’t this shy,” your boss commented, his cheerful — even if worried — intonation made the Emperor look intensely at you and General Mitaka smile nervously. “Right, Minara?”

“No, she isn’t…” The Emperor was reticent in his agreement. Even if you couldn’t muster enough courage to look at him, you knew he didn’t deviate his attention from you for not even a second. You could feel his eyes on you and it was… extremely unsettling.

Behind the Emperor, General Mitaka cleared his throat, “I wonder what she’s going to write about tonight.”

“Certainly only the best, General!” Nilim interjected, his nervousness showing more at each passing second. His usual cheerful tone long forgotten; in its place, only a fragile, small man whose ideals of Press Freedom mattered very little in front of someone such as the powerful Supreme Leader. “Only the best, I assure you.”

“If the best matches the truth…” Your voice was finally heard. Your eyes finally met his and you couldn’t help but swallow. They were of the most intense blue color you’d ever seen. “Now, if you excuse me.”

You bowed your head and tried to remove your hand from his. Nevertheless, he held onto it, keeping it — keeping you — within his grasp. His unseeingly strength fazed you for a brief moment.

“I was hoping you would give me the pleasure of accompanying me in this dance.”

You looked at him speechless. Mouth hanging open, you bet you weren’t the only one flabbergasted. You bit your bottom lip and took a step away.

“I-I... No.” You shook your head. Your boss stared at you completely horrified — after all, who were you to deny the prestigious Supreme Leader? —; you felt as if you had grown thirty heads at once — a hideous image to look at and yet, something one couldn’t simply look away. “If you kindly excuse me…”

Canto Bight Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Two hours ago

Your lips were still tingling — your body was trembling, your head was spinning; what, for the lava of Mustafar, was that? — when Poe’s voice was finally heard through the speakers for the entirety of Canto Bight Casino.

The Supreme Leader was still holding you — his body went completely rigid as he heard the breaking news — in his arms, and now you didn’t wonder anymore why he was so strong, considering his lean physique.

He was looking past you, bluish eyes set on the horizon — or the next speakers, you didn’t know for real —, crushing you into his embrace. With your arms on his shoulders, you pushed him away, but you were aware he’d only let go if it was his wish.

This… The Emperor… He… wasn’t a regular man. On the contrary. Among the most feared beings in the galaxy there were the almighty force users and vampires. This man — the one holding you — was the second.

Licking his plump lower lip, he wiped away any traces of your blood.

It explained his strength and why you felt lightheaded in his company — why you felt watched, even when you were away from his inquisitive eyes. He was trying to read your mind. You couldn’t guess his reason, but you thought he was looking for some clue on what you’d meant to write about him and the deal between Cantonica and the First Order — every dictator’s dream was to be able to know what media would write about them ahead of publication; he couldn’t be that different, right?

You were glad you did your homework and didn’t let him in more than necessary — which, was, perhaps worse. When he wasn’t able to get whatever he wanted out of you through the conventional means — if one can call prying into someone’s thoughts and memories conventional —, he did the unthinkable.

He listened to the whole news reporting with you still in his embrace; his dead heart started beating quickly in his chest, pumping blood through his veins. His right cheek pressed to yours, slowly warmed up his otherwise cool, unnatural face. Except for the way his fingers around you pressed you against him, you had no idea how he took the news of his secret — not so secret anymore — weapon becoming breaking news.

However, there wasn’t any time for explanations, for he let you go and suddenly after the doors were jarred open. Through them, you saw not only your boss’ trembling finger pointed at you, but with him a few officers from the Canto Bight Police Department.

Canto Bight Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Three hours ago

“Kriffs, Dameron!” You placed both hands on the baluster, analyzing the distance to the floor. Right now, jumping over seemed the only way to escape this night alive. “I knew it. Cantonica is pledging loyalty to the First Order right now.”

After the ceremony started — after the most important person in all of Cantonica decided to bend the knee to some sort of authoritative jerk and all the wealthiest people decided to do the same —, you left the Ballroom — not unnoticed, you knew; all the time the Emperor had his eyes set on you — and headed to the much-needed privacy only the balcony could provide right now.

“Minara, what are you still doing there?” You thought he sounded worried; out there, in the open, the connection was even worse. At least, you weren’t feeling watched anymore, nor there was that slight pressure on the back of your head. “It’s too dangerous.”

You smiled as a Chagrian couple walked past you. It seemed the ceremony had just ended, and a few unimportant guests left the Ballroom to chat over expensive drinks and watch the fathiers running in the racetrack. You waited till the couple was out of earshot to speak, “I know… But till last week, Cantonica’s decision was for neutrality.” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “It’s even worse than we believed, Poe! They decided to move the Capital… They… He’s choosen Cantonica! I’ve to do something… I have to!”

You shook your head, the amount of alcoholic drinks you’d had was starting to finally affect you. When it only made you dizzier — and everyone knew how difficult it was for even Port in a Storm to knock you over — you decided it was time to take a walk at the gardens; it would help you clear your mind and set your ideas straight.

Just like pretty much everything in this kriffing planet, the gardens — the ocean as well — were artificially created. You were still to discover something a few millions of credits couldn’t buy.

“You don’t seriously intend for me to release your news reporting while you are at the Gala, do you?”

“Do you have a better idea?” you whispered smiling back at an old Rodian lady; your face was starting to hurt given how much you smiled that night. Inside, you were about to cry from desperation.

As expected, he didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t have a better idea. Poe Dameron wasn’t known for his plans — in fact, he wasn’t known for following other’s plans either. He was more likely to have no plan at all and make decisions out of the blue.

You were beyond frustrated.

If Cantonica, one of the few remaining neutral systems decided to pledge loyalty to the First Order, it meant all the other planets would as well; including those loyal to the Resistance — just like the Emperor said that night, the New Republic was no more, for now only metaphorically, but soon, literally, and all that was left was a small group of rioters whose main objective was to set the Galaxy ablaze — would leave neutrality behind.

You were on the verge of losing everything you’ve been working so hard for the past years — all you and your friends have been working were on the brink of extinction. You could only imagine what General Organa was feeling right now. If it was difficult for you to deal with it, right now… you could only imagine how it was for someone who had fight her whole life to set the Galaxy free from the reigns of a dictatorial organization.

So far, you could hide your association to the Resistance given Cantonica’s neutrality. Free Press wasn’t only valued but expected. If you could criticize a government and still have your rights guaranteed it was only because the planet decided not to pick a side. Now…

Now…

Given his silence, you decided to press him further, “Would you back down if you were me?” You bit your bottom lip. “Would you back down when you know you can make the people fight this bizarre decision?”

Once again, he chose to stay silent. A tired — and yet relieved — sigh left you.

“That’s what I thou—

Before you could finish what you were saying, you heard some commotion in the balcony. There were whispers all around you and then silence. Utter, sepulchral silence. You were on the first steps leading to the garden, but given the commotion — or lack thereof —, you decided to stop where you were and look back. At the same time, another voice sounded in your ears in a firm and commanding tone.

“(Y/N), this is General Organa, and this is an order: leave the Gala right now.”

You furrowed your brows.

Your heart quickened.

At the center of the balcony, there was the person you’ve been running from all night, the Emperor. All the guests made their way back to the Ballroom, till there was no one else outside. It is, except for you and the Supreme Leader — Emperor — himself.

“I-I can’t,” you whispered and before she could say anything else, you shut off the connection without even saying over and out.

With your head held high — there was no point in trying to make yourself invisible right now —, you climbed up the stairs and headed back to the Ballroom in silence. All this time, the tall, ginger man — Poe’s words didn’t sound so funny now — had his back turned to you. His hands were entwined at his back; his head was slightly upwards, as he faced the starry night sky. When you placed your hand on the doorknob, his voice startled you.

“You aren’t dismissed, Miss Minara.”

You held your breath.

What?

“It’s mistress,” you corrected him. “Now, if you kindly excuse me, Your Highness.” You didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in your tone. There was something about this man — something about his looks, about his voice, about his standing… about his nature, that made you feel very strongly about him. And it wasn’t a good feeling. Not at all. “I’m needed elsewhere.”

He turned to face you, but you remained exactly where you were, unable to even cast a glance at him over your shoulder. You closed your eyes, hoping that such action could bring you some calmness.

It didn’t.

You felt once again that pressure in the back of your head. You brought your hand to your neck and let it fall to your sides.

“Nilim Taa dismissed you for the night.”

Kriffs!

You opened your mouth to give him a reply — some reply, any reply — but closed it shortly after. What would you say? What could you say? Your heart was on the verge of breaking your ribcages. There was so much you wanted to say — so much you could say — and yet, you found yourself unable to even talk to him. You were usually a calm, collected and even rational person, but somehow… Somehow, this very man — this stranger — blinded you. All you could feel right now was a bubbling anger. You hated him to your bones. It came so natural to you, you couldn’t even begin to understand such feeling.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked. Whispered. And you tensed. Suddenly, he was right behind you. Quite but not touching. Yet, you could feel every hair in your body bristling.

“Yes,” the answer — the truth — rolled off your tongue with ease. You flexed your fingers, unable to decide whether to keep your standing or to turn around and face him.

There was a moment of silence. It was very long and somewhat even more uncomfortable and awkward than any other situation you could remember. You could hear the soft melody of a Waltz being played. If you dared opening your eyes, you’d see his face reflected on the glassy doors; the look of longing on his face.

Instead, you felt his fingers slithering over yours. And even if you felt deeply about this stranger, it felt… good to have his skin pressed against your own.

You shuddered.

“What are you doing?” you asked; too shocked with yourself to even process the fact you were leaning against him.

He chose silence.

For some reason it didn’t seem odd. It felt as if… You’ve been there before… In this situation. It felt as if you were used to expect silence from him. When he placed his smooth face against yours and slowly… very slowly… ran his nose over the side of your neck, inhaling deeply, you felt like losing it.

In a force breaker that had yourself even surprised, you stepped away from him. Get away from me died in your lips, for his odd comment had you furrowing your brows, “Your heart is accelerated.”

Obviously, ‘as it should’ should be your first reasoning, but it was quickly foreshadowed by ‘how in the force can you hear it?’. There wasn’t any time for such questionings for you felt that again. The pressure in the back of your head.

The probing.

Your eyes widened.

Two creatures — if one could qualify as such — did that. It is, probed people’s minds, force users and vampires. As far as you knew, the Emperor hated force users. Being the Propaganda Boy, he’d certainly promote force users if he were one of them.

You bit your bottom lip and stepped backwards. If the thought of the first left you with mixed feelings, the latter made you feel… exposed. Vulnerable.

Worried sick for your children’s safety.

You brushed them off. It’d do you no good to think about them now. Even if you were good — quite good if you could add — at reining in your thoughts and blocking your mind from intruders, if he really were a vampire, it’d be easy for him to catch onto your feelings and read… whatever you’re trying to hide from him.

“A widow… I see…”

Cornered and afraid, you asked, “What do you really want?”

He didn’t reply.

And you wondered how sickly he must be to enjoy torturing others with his silence. You bit your bottom lip, staring at him with your chin held high; your eyes intensely focused on him.

“Your feelings regarding the First Order are quite intense.”

He was polite to mention the First Order and not he himself. Instead, you boldly clarified, “I hate you.”

And everything you and your organization stands for.

Somehow, you felt as if you shouldn’t expect an answer.

Yet, he nodded.

If he was taken aback by your answer, he didn’t let it show. With his hands placed behind his back, in a very General-like mode — rumor has it that he killed both the previous Supreme Leader and his force user apprentice when he was a mere General and took up on his role as the mastermind for that awful organization a few years ago — and walked towards you.

As you backed down, your back met the baluster. You even thought about jumping down, but he beat you to it, “I’ll catch you before you can even blink.”

You drew in a breath when you realized how close he was. In a heartbeat, he was in front of you, invading your personal space.

“I know what you are,” you spoke, more like whispered, when he took a hold of your left hand and with his nail punctured the skin of your finger. You gasped, unable to tear your eyes from the crimson drop sprouting from the small wound. “And I-I…” Your mouth hung open as he brought your thumb to his lips.

The moment his cold lips made contact with your skin, you lost the ability to speak…

…to think.

You stared at him, speechless as he closed his lids and sucked vigorously on the small wound. A shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let your eyes shut. Part of you wanted to fight it, to yank your hand away from his grasp and to keep your thoughts to yourself.

It didn’t take a genius to understand that once he realized himself unable to read your thoughts in the conventional mode, he’d find far more Machiavellian means to get any information out of you. But if in the mind probing you’d some control of what he saw, in this fashion, you’d no idea of what unfolded behind his very lids.

With a growl, his eyes fluttered open and he let go of your already healed finger. In a heartbeat — a moment of utter confusion, really —, the Emperor took your lips in a rather chaste kiss.

Or so you thought.

Before long, his fangs pierced your lower lip. Both of his hands slid to the small of your back, bringing you closer to him. A gasp left you as your body met his, your own hands stationing on his shoulders as you dizzily let him take you — and part of you wondered if it was the first time this kind of situation took place.

He insinuated his leg between yours at the same time he ran his left hand through the slit of your dress; his fingers slowly tracing the exposed extension of your thigh. His right hand crept through your hair as he licked your lip, stroking his tongue along yours leisurely. Boldly. A gasp died in your throat as a shock of electricity ran through your body — and you thought his too — forcing you to open your eyes to stare at him, wide-eyed. As for him, he quickly jerked away from you.

The Supreme Leader kept his eyes closed and even with your messy senses, you could hear the slight growl rising in his chest. To your surprise, it was a confused… pained sound; his arms immediately tightened around you.

With your head pressed to his chest, you couldn’t see his expression. Nor you could make a thing of the entire situation. It was just… Unbelievably. Drained and bleary, you tried to push him away, till you heard his voice, “I’ve a proposit—

However, it was cut off by Poe’s voice on the speakers…

…reading your news report.

Canto Bight Police Headquarters, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Now

It took the officer in the interrogation room a moment to heed the Emperor’s command and uncuff you. He did it with trembling hands; it was a surprise he didn’t let the keys fall noisily to the floor more than once and as you — and everyone else — expected.

The Police Chief watched the whole scene with his jaw set, but if he were against the straightforward command, he didn’t comment on that. His eyes were on you, watching you with intensity. It seemed getting promoted wasn’t enough for him, he’d have to have you at his mercy.

Guess it wasn’t his lucky day.

As for you, you were sure this was absolutely not your best day. Luck was never really something you counted on, but it seemed you’re running out of it tonight.

You massaged your wrists lightly and then flexed both of your hands as soon as you were set free. Part of you was dying to wipe the dried blood out of your face — and you were somehow unable to decided whether you should wait for the Officers to leave the room —, but you did want to give the Police Chief a good look of you, because if you left the CBPD alive, you’d make sure to write about him and how his corporation handled the Press.

And another part, well… You didn’t want to draw more attention to yourself in the company of such villainous creature.

“Leave us.”

You received his words with bated breath. Part of you was afraid to be with him — alone. Even if you hated him with every fiber in your being — this man represented everything you fought against, to get rid of —, you couldn’t deny how you strongly you felt when he held you in his arms.

It’s not that it felt right.

No.

It didn’t.

But it didn’t feel wrong either.

It felt… bittersweet.

It sparked something in your memory. Something you couldn’t quite grasp yet, but that left you desperate to get away from him.

And there he was.

In front of you.

He waited for a few minutes after everyone left in eerie silence; his impossibly blue eyes never focused on you for a moment. And this time you made sure to have your own set on him, watching for any minimal reaction or any suggestion that he’d get anywhere close…

…to do nothing.

It wasn’t as if you could do something.

Even if you could take care of yourself fairly well — and if not for having been waiting to use the Police Chief’s strike against him and his corrupt corporation — you’d never let him abuse his power. But this man… this very man in front of you was… something else.

It was no man.

It was a creature.

An evil one…

The ancient lore removed from horror stories that you — having two of them at home; having giving birth to them — knew to be true. Not that your children were alike him. They were, and they weren’t.

You shook your head.

You’d lost too much blood already, if he wanted to read your mind — if he didn’t see all he wanted before when he sank his fangs into you —, now would be the perfect time. If you just so let yourself lose control of your thoughts, it’d be too easy for him to get whatever he wanted now.

And you didn’t want to think what he could want.

Next thing you saw, he shifted his blue eyes and stared at you pensively. He outstretched his hand and offered a handkerchief you promptly accepted. You brought it to your busted lip and cleaned it. You usually healed faster than an average human, but this time — but tonight and after everything that took place —, your body didn’t seem to do the trick. It burned when the fabric met your skin.

You fought a grimace and busied yourself by looking at the detailed needlework. It had not only his initials embroidered in it, A.H as in Armitage Hux — part of you expected to have read Emperor somewhere, and the thought made you scoff lightly —, and the symbol of his precious First Order.

The sight made you bit your bottom lip and screw all your earlier work of cleaning yourself. The coppery taste of blood reached your tongue fast as you threw away his handkerchief.

If he felt offended by your gesture, he didn’t comment on that. He’d walked way, but you could see his face through the almost shiny surface of brushed steel of one of the walls. His image was rather distorted, but you guessed it was just fine for a creature such as him. His hands were entwined at his back and his head was held high as he spoke,

“I know it was you.”

You bit your bottom lip, and this time, a drop of blood hit the floor. Even if you couldn’t see it — for it was such a small reaction —, you could hear him inhaling sharply.

“But you can’t prove it,” you spoke confidently. To prove your association to the Resistance was the same to say his new ally — the people of his new home — was conspiring with his enemy. And that spoke more of his precious First Order and he himself than of Cantonica and its representatives — its people. Not a good move if you’d a say. “You can’t.”

He looked at you over his shoulder; his expression blank.

“I don’t care.”

You furrowed your brows.

“Y-You don’t?”

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your bravery of seconds ago vanished completely. It could mean one thing… Actually, it could mean a lot… But you felt… you knew… to expect the worst.

The First Order and its assets — it’s most powerful asset — had nothing good offer. They couldn’t.

Furthermore, he was a vampire.

And vampires couldn’t offer anything good. Because goodness came as easy to a vampire as giving up came to you.

“I said before I’ve a proposition for you,” he spoke, approaching you in light steps. When he stopped in front of you, you’d no other choice, except to crane your neck to stare at him. “I came to discuss it."

A/N - Well, that’s all. Like I said, the chapters for this story are way too big. But I hope you’ve enjoyed it. The names Steela and Nik were taken from SW. Steela is a homage to Steela Onderon from TCW and Nik is a homage to the Resistance fighter in ROTJ. Each of the 4 chapters (not much I know, this story takes time to write) I’ve posted on AO3 are going to be posted here on Wednesdays. See you then xD

#bloodbound #hux x reader #hux x you #vampire!hux #vampire hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #vampires in space #general hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux #armitage hux #space vampires #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars sequels #sequels

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