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girlygguk · 1 year

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fame - jjk (three)

pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc.

synopsis ; aera; the main dancer in one of the biggest k-pop groups in the world, Siren. debuting in 2014, it was nothing but immense hard work and perseverance (and being on the absolute verge of disbandment), but she and the four girls that grew to become her sisters pulled through. they did it. now they're performing at some of the most significant arenas and stadiums worldwide. meeting a cheeky, flirtatious and annoyingly gorgeous fellow idol that threatens to break down every wall of protection she's built around herself was not part of the plan. her career has always come first, having sacrificed and jeopardised many relationships and friendships in her journey to debut. so why does this time feel different?

story warnings ; smut, explicit language, violent & possibly triggering scenes.

chapter warnings ; explicit language, fluff, flirty jk

word count ; 3.2k

a/n: thank you sm for liking and commenting even reblogging its SO SWEEETTTT THANK YOU! first jk x oc interaction of the story finallyy

previous chapters ; prologue | one | two | drabble1 | three | four | ...

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

📅 July 22, 2015 — A year ago...

📍 PARK ENTERTAINMENT BUILDING

» Aera's point of view «

• • •

"—Sarang ha neun Aera-shiiiii," my sisters chorused as they clapped to the beat of their out-of-tune serenade.

"Saeng il chuk ha ham ni da!" They cheered, the flats of their palms slapping against the table while they waited for me to extinguish the burning sticks of wax stuffed into the swamp-green-coloured cake before me. I was informed earlier that Ha-Joon led the baking ensemble this morning, so I'm pretty sure it's ninety percent icing. The way the candles were at a thirty-degree angle, almost completely submerged in the desert, only furthers my suspicions.

With a cheesy grin, my eyes flutter closed as I put an end to the candles' lives. Little clouds of smoke whisp towards the ceiling when the flames die out, and I lean back a little to avoid inhaling the fume. "What'd you wish for?" Asami teased, swatting at Joonie's hand when the youngest tried to scrape her finger along the cake's side in hopes of retrieving some icing.

"I can't tell you, or it won't come true." I clichéd, pulling the candles out of the mountain of icing before they sunk like an injured battleship. Dumping the burnt sticks into the garbage can behind us, I turn to our leader as she scrolls through the comments of our current V-Live.

"Can you pass the knife, please, Unnie?" My request snaps her out of her daze, and she leans back from her phone like she didn't even realize she was so close to it. Then, grabbing the knife on the table's edge, she placed the handle in my direction and slid it across to me.

"We're at a thousand viewers!" Hanna screeched, her hand smacking at her knee in glee, and I joined in with the rest of the girls as we giggled at her excitement.

My jaw dropped in disgust and amusement as my assumptions about this cake's ingredients were correct. The knife dragged into the mush, slicing down an alp of icing before hitting a thin layer of cake far later than it should've. My eyes snapped straight to Joon as she bit her lip, her cheeks pink and puffed, no doubt trying to harbour a loud cackle at the look on my face.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I let out a breathy chuckle, continuing, or more so attempting, to cut the desert into presentable slices. Slapping each piece onto a paper plate, the girls pull a serving towards themselves as I go, waiting for me to dish up my own before they indulge. I lift the board that the remaining cake is melting on as we speak and put it out of the camera's view before sitting back in my chair with a huff.

Joonie's fork dug into her portion the moment I sat back in my seat, scooping a mouthful of pure icing and consuming it like somebody was trying to take it away from her. I snicker before doing the same, and a slight hum of approval escapes my lips when the fork hits my tongue, the icing surprisingly better and much tastier than I thought. I blame the shitty diet we're on. Cat food would taste good at this point.

Lifting my head, I browse the comments flooding through on our live, and my eyes widen at all the birthday wishes that dominated the comment section. "Thank you guys for the happy birthdays; you're so sweet." I gush, swirling my fork around my plate to try and find a chunk of actual cake and hopefully stop the tears I feel burning at my lower lash line.

I could feel the gaze of Nali on me, and I was failing to find a piece of solid food on my plate of pure topping, which was only making me more frustrated and almost losing the battle with the water pooling in my waterline.

"We couldn't afford two cakes." Nali blurted, and the sound of forks scraping against paper plates pulled to a halt, four heads turning to stare at the blonde.

A few moments of silence passed, and I didn't fight it anymore, my grip on my plate loosening, and I rested it on the table before bursting into a fit of laughter. I seem to have broken the dam because the rest of the girls were heaving over, a chorus of laughs and howls bouncing off the walls of our shitty little cramped office that we cleared out for the v-live.

"It was our first anniversary a few days ago, and if we made a cake for that, we would've blown our allowance then and not had enough for Aera's birthday. So it's sort of a conjoined celebration." Hanna explained to the viewers, wiping at the corners of her eyes to rid the stray tears gathering there from laughing.

Hanna, Asami, and Joon continued breezing through the comments pouring in from the fans on our live, spotting a few familiar usernames and greeting them like they were our own members. Our sweet yet disturbing maknae had finished her cake, her gaze dropping to the left when she saw Asami's unfinished plate pushed to the side, indicating she didn't want anymore.

I felt my eyebrows crinkle slightly, watching my roommate, one spoonful of icing away from a stomach ache and never-ending whining when we try to sleep later tonight, grab Asami's plate, and devour the remnants. You would think we don't feed this girl.

Brushing the hair that had fallen in front of my eye, my gaze fell to the blonde on my right to see her attention was already on me. I give her a small, thankful smile, grateful for how she had drawn the attention away from me for a moment to compose myself. Nali nodded in understanding, her hand finding mine under the table and delivering a soft squeeze that sent a wave of comfort through my body.

It had been an hour or so since we started the live stream, and we still had choreo to work on later tonight, so we responded to as many questions and messages as possible before wrapping up the celebration. Our leader, Hanna, took a screenshot of the viewer count, still giddy at the fact that we hit 1,100, which beat our personal record by far. We thanked our Allures profusely, big gummy grins covering our faces as we sent waves and kisses toward Hanna's phone as she ended the stream.

The sound of my phone vibrating on the table's edge caught my attention as we tidied up the area. Asami took the remaining cake to the kitchen and informed us she'd wrap it and put it in the refrigerator. Ha-Joon finished stacking the used paper plates and all but sprinted out the office door, muttering a quick "I'll help!" that earned a chorus of scoffs and eye-rolls from her unnies.

"That girl will return with a permanent green upper lip," Hanna grumbled, halfway through a thank-you post on our Instagram account with the statistics from today's live.

She pulled me over to get approval for the photos of me she was using for my birthday post, and I set my phone back down before getting a chance to check my notifications. She was scrolling through today's pictures, Nali's phone becoming our camera as we were streaming from Hanna's. I chuckled at how Hanna literally took a hundred photos, my face invading Nali's camera roll; you'd think it was my phone.

Settling on a few, I suggested she use the candid of Joonie wiping the green icing on my nose as the first slide. She nodded ecstatically, murmuring a quaint "yes! i thought so too" before returning to social media manager mode.

Hanna sent the chosen pictures to herself, handing Nali's phone back with a kissy noise causing the visual to retaliate with a playful scowl that paparazzi would pay thousands to capture. They both started to head towards the door, Nali with the full bin liner and Hanna with her phone clad in their hands, before the eldest turned back towards me. "Practice in 15," she announced, not looking up from her phone but her words flying in my direction.

"Okay, unnie." I smiled, and she glanced up from her device, a smirk gracing her lips as she waited for me to face the other direction before delivering a hearty slap to my ass. Winded, I spin around to return the favour but only catch sight of the raven-haired girl sprinting down the hall to catch up with Nali.

"Freak," I mutter, my laugh fizzing out in the room that now only contains me. My abandoned phone remains face-down on the table, and I trudge over, tapping the screen to bring it back to life. Staring at the notification perched at the top of my cracked phone screen, it glares back at me before my phone fades out due to inactivity. I continue bringing the phone back to life, each time staring at the same notification for thirty seconds before the screen goes black again.

15:34 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Happy birthday Aera 🎂

I click on the notification, and my screen reacts to my demand, transitioning to the messages app. As I think of a response, my nail begins to tap against the side of my phone case in angst, and I almost put my phone away altogether.

It's just a happy birthday message, not a fucking proposal. My inner thoughts are demonic, taunting me as I discover five characters is apparently my limit before I delete everything and start over.

15:38 ME

thank you jungkook

Poetic. You truly have a way with words, Aera. My thumb scrambled to the side of my case, resting against the lock button, so close to ending my misery, before I saw the word 'delivered' change to 'seen' at the bottom of my message. He's fast to reply, almost as if staring at the text waiting for a response.

15:38 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

How are you?

Rolling my eyes at the basic pleasantries, I consider leaving him on read and heading towards the practice room with the rest of my members. Then, against my better judgment, I concede.

15:39 ME

i'm okay, you?

15:39 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Just okay? It's your birthday, you should be happy! 🥳

15:39 ME

i am happy. today has been great 🥳

15:40 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

You know, mirroring the actions of someone else can often be misinterpreted as a show of affection

15:41 ME

aaaaand you fucking ruined it. i have to go practice

15:41 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Wait Aera

Can we

Video call later tonight

My heart skips a beat, or six, as I stare at his text. He's so fucking blunt. So forward. It drives me mad. So mad that I find myself sending back a thumbs-up emoji before shoving my phone into my pocket and leaving the office that, I swear, has increased by five degrees in the last few minutes.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The squeak of my reusable water bottle wrung in my ears as I squeezed the life out of the canister, the chilled liquid it holds trying its hardest to fight the internal burning temperature of my body. I run my hand through my damp hair in an attempt to incorporate air into the strands and allow my scalp a chance to breathe.

We wrapped up practice a few minutes ago; the rest of the girls had scrambled out of the burning suite when we unanimously agreed that we physically couldn't continue today. Hanna led the eager troops to the kitchen to prepare our dinner, and I secured the lid of my bottle shut before tailing the train down our company's hall. Stopping at my dorm once they had just entered the kitchen's quarter, I threw out a quick "i'll be there in a sec, just need to use the bathroom" before ducking into my room.

Snatching my hoodie that I threw on my bed carelessly earlier today, I flip it inside out at lightning speed, shoving my head and arms through the holes in what I'm sure is a personal best. Leaning over my bed with a huff, I grunt in triumph when I feel my phone in my grasp after a few failed attempts to grab it off my bedside table. Shoving it into the pocket of my sweatshirt, I make my way out of the dorm, looking in the direction of the kitchen before turning the opposite way and heading for the exit of our building.

A sigh of ecstasy leaves my lips as the chilled night air envelopes my frame once I push through the bulky door of our building and make my way toward the stony path that lines the structure. My butt hits the pavement with a thud, and I fish my phone out of my pocket; the device's light illuminating a ray of yellow in the darkness of the night as it comes to life.

Clicking on the familiar contact in my list, I hit the video icon and listen to the low hum of the outgoing tone as it attempts to connect me to the desired recipient. No more than five seconds pass before the loading symbol appears on the screen, the background black as the device works to load the picture of the awaiting parties.

I'm staring at the box in the bottom right corner that mirrors my appearance, halfway through pulling the hood of my jacket over my head to shield my matted hair before his bunny smile stately renders onto my phone screen.

My action is pulled to a halt, my hand releasing my shirt's hood as I take in the picture being shamelessly displayed by my busted phone. Jungkook leans against his headboard, clad in a black shirt that accentuates the shape of his arms. Speaking of arms, the one of his that isn't currently busy holding his device up runs through his woolly, fluffed hair before resting behind his head against the board.

"Saeng il chuk—" Jungkook started once my camera connected and displayed my face on the screen. A cringed scowl overtook me as I hushed him, shaking my head rapidly and begging him to stop the birthday anthem.

His cheeky giggle blew through my speaker when I cut off his song, eyebrows raised in amusement, "How's the big 19? Feel any different?"

"Days don't even feel like days right now, so no, I don't feel that different." My response is honest, eyes trailing down to the heel of my sneaker, currently scraping against the gravel beneath me that I'm sure is staining my sweatpants.

He nods in understanding, knowing exactly how I feel at the moment, having been in a similar situation in his rookie days. "Do you want me to call you Noona now?" He quips with a smirk, reminding me that I am, in fact, two months older than him.

My eyes widen as his question catches me off guard, and I do not bother to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head while he chuckles hoarsely at my reaction. "I will fucking kill you."

My response only seems to amuse him more, his eyes wide in faux fear, and I feel a smile breaking through onto my face, forcing me to look away from my phone for a moment. The smell of spices invades my nostrils, bringing me back to consciousness, and I glance up at the time displayed on my device.

"I have to go eat dinner," I say, watching his plump bottom lip purse into a pout.

My team probably thinks I am having abhorrent bowel movements right now. However, Jungkook's question pulls me out of my thoughts, his big bug eyes curious as he quizzes, "Why are you eating dinner at 11 pm?"

"The kitchen doesn't close until 12 on weekends, so we usually train later on Saturdays and Sundays." I shrug, shuffling a little until my back is flush against the side of the building. His eyebrows furrow, seemingly taken aback by my answer, and I'm unsure why.

"The kitchen closes at certain times?" His question is low and soft, and I can't decipher the look on his face as he says those words. This had become my reality that I adapted to so quickly since becoming a trainee. I often forget to filter out certain things before sharing with people.

"Do you want me to get you something delivered?" He asks; the tone of his voice is gasoline on the burning flame in my lower stomach.

"Oh yeah? Are you gonna supply food for five people?"

"Yes." His answer is instant, and I admit defeat to the battle with my mouth as my lips curve into a soft smile.

"Don't do that," I shake my head, pulling my knees closer to my chest as the wind picks up, and I hope it blows the phone out of my hand and into the local lake.

"Do what?" His tone is innocent though his features are anything but.

"Don't say shit like that."

"Shit like what?" The corner of his mouth upturns as he senses my frustration, my displeasure only seeming to egg him on.

The loud chatter and laughter of my members pull me back to my reality, and I let the laugh trapped in my throat escape before clambering to my feet, glaring at the boy leaning against his headboard once I steady myself, "I have to go."

Jungkook nods in understanding, looking like he didn't expect to get me for this long anyway. Just as I'm about to say goodbye, he leans up a little, the muscle in his arm tensing as it adjusts behind his head. "Wait, are you guys attending MAMA?"

I knew he meant well, but it didn't stop the unsettling feeling brewing in my stomach, the possibility of being unable to break through in our career despite the work my sisters and I put in daily glooming over my head like a heavy, grey cloud.

"Don't be ridiculous; we could never get an invite to a show like that."

"You will one day." He responds, his tone sure and confident, and I almost believe him.

"Maybe one day." I nod, a grateful smile finding its way to my lips, and he returns the gesture, his bunny teeth peeking out slightly in a cheesy grin.

"Have a good dinner, Noona. Happy birthday," he wishes, and my finger instantly dashes to the disconnect button in reflex. Giving him one final glance, I poke my tongue out teasingly, clicking the red icon that ends both the call and my suffering.

Letting out a heavy breath, I walk back to the entrance of our building, swinging the door open and flicking the lock once it shuts behind me. My head falls forward onto the glass, and I have to stop myself from lifting it and slamming it back down a few more times.

Shoving my phone back into my hoodie pocket, I finally make my way toward my members in the kitchen. The smell that wafts from the kitchen tickles the aggressive hunger in my stomach, distracting my thoughts from other things. Halfway down the hallway, my eyes fall to the back of my head for the umpteenth time this night alone as I grind to a halt. Now I actually have to pee.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist ; @0anodite0

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfiction #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #idol oc #bts idol au #jungguk #jeon jungguk

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angstsfordays · 5 months

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I will go to you like the first snow [1/?]

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC! femreader

Summary: "Before I held you, I didn’t know that the world I was in was this bright." The beginning days of how Coriolanus and OC met in the Academy a year before the 10th Hunger games.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow himself is a warning but nothing unhealthy from him in this chapter! Still relatively tame before his true nature unveils itself later on!

Notes: Hi everyone, I'm back from the dead. Just kidding, but yes I am back and definitely inspired to write again now that I have a wee bit of time. My latest addiction as you guessed from above is TBOSAS, and I swear it's so unhealthy for me to crush on villains albeit they're fictional. I have plans for this to be a series of reads with no structured timeline and rather it be snippets of different scenarios that could happen with a OC insert in this universe. Just wanted to get this out of my head and into words so please enjoy this humble writing of mine!

Love, Angstsfordays 🫶🏼

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The first time Coriolanus saw you was when you walked into the classroom on a random Wednesday. It was only halfway into his junior year at the academy and he least expected someone would be able to transfer into the prestigious elite Academy at all.

You were definitely not from the Capitol if you were to enroll into school this late.

"Do you think she's like Plinth?" Coriolanus overheard one of the students' hush whispers to another. A likely possibility- the young Snow thought. You must have come from new money- your family must have somewhat made a huge profit and earned the favour of the Capitol to be able to let their daughter enter the Academy.

Your dark and sleek long hair contrasted with the bright red and blue of the Academy's uniform. Despite the dark colour of your eyes, it shoned brightly with a type of confidence as you took your time to scan the entire class and made sure to stare right into each and one of the students who casting dubious glances at you.

"Now now, hush and let me introduce to you the latest addition to our class." Professor Demigloss spoke with a calm type of excitement.

Giving you a small courteous smile, the professor nudged you to introduce yourself. "My name is Y/N Y/L/N", you curtly answered. The students who heard your last name were even more perplexed at who you could be as they never heard of it before- not even in the latest gossips that the Capitol has to offer.

"Perhaps you lot are more familiar with the name, Carnell." Professor Demigloss then added with slight glee afterwards when your maternal family's name drew the gasps of the entire class. The Carnell family was famous as old legend in Panem- best known to be one of the few significant families who helped contributed to the founding of Panem in its early days. The Carnell family were known for their fearsome military strength and training of great soldiers.

Where was someone like you from such a powerful family hiding all this time? Coriolanus did not recall seeing someone like you during the social parties he attended when he was younger.

"That's my mother's family name. I am Y/N Y/L/N." You explained, more towards the professor than everyone else.

Professor Demigloss who seemed taken aback by your correction gave an awkward smile before nodding. He then informed you that Clemensia would be your student buddy to help you get orientated to the school and asked you to take your seat at the far end of Coriolanus' row.

Coriolanus' eyes followed you as you made your way up the stairs and to your seat with careful steps. Once you settled in your seat and the professor started talking, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

Tilting your head to the left, you saw your so called student buddy, Clemensia and beside her was a boy. A boy with eyes that held the intense gaze that you gave him. There was no animosity, no haughtiness like the rest of the students who looked at you when you first stepped into the room.

You couldn't read him but you were sure he was somewhat different from the rest in the room. Before it felt like it would get weird with the long staring, your eyes quickly flicked over to the professor and your postured leaned forward as if you were interested to listen to the class.

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"No way, someone got a higher score than Snow?!"

"Who is it?!"

"Who is the Academy's new top student now?"

Coriolanus was halfway through his lunch before he started hearing the hurried tones of other students in the cafeteria. Before this, Coriolanus knew that the latest exam scores would be posted around this timing.

As eager as he was to check his scores when they were posted, he wanted to give into his hunger first. He had no doubt that he would be the top scorer for the term. There was just no way else anyone else could have done better than him.

As his ears perked up on the sayings of the cohort of students, his heart dropped for a moment. Someone actually did better than him? The next feeling was adrenaline as he quickly packed up his extra food into his bag before his legs stood up and led the way to the bulletin board.

Term 2's Academic Ranking

Y/N Carnell

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus could not believe his eyes. How were you the top student? You haven't even been in this school for more than 3 months and you managed to stand at the top, knocking him to a humiliating second place. The thought of the Plinth's prize leaving his grasp washed over him.

Coriolanus was usually reserved especially in the public eye to maintain the prestige of his family name. But his obsession with perfection especially when it came to his grades were one of the few things that could shook his calm demeanor.

The young Snow turned his head furiously as he felt himself being swarmed by more students. That's when he spotted the wisp of your hair flying and leaving past as you turned around the corner of the hallway.

Coriolanus wormed his way out of the crowd and took long strides to storm his way to you. You were on your way out of the school with your hand on the door handle before you felt a presence behind you. A hand rested above yours on the handle, nudging it against the force of your pull to open and exit the school.

You turned around and was shocked by how close Coriolanus stood behind you as your face met with his chest before your eyes went up to meet his. His eyes were bright with somewhat of a calm rage.

"Shit, what are you doing?!" You said with a false bravado.

The both of you let go of the door while staring at each other in silence briefly. You were waiting for him to speak but when it seemed like he was not going to say anything, you feet started turning towards the door again before Coriolanus spoke. "How?"

"How what?" You spoke in confusion.

"How did you managed to take my spot?" So that's why he decided to stop you from leaving? You scoffed at the pettiness before deciding to give in and answer, hoping Coriolanus would leave you be.

"I just studied." Apparently your answer was not good for him as he continued to rambled on in a fit.

"What do you mean you just studied? You transferred less than 3 months ago, how are you able to catch up with everything?! Your grandfather managed to get a private tutor for you?" As you thought things couldn't get worse, Coriolanus managed to hit a sore spot of yours.

Coriolanus heard from the gossips of the likes of Livia Cardew and Arachne Crane that you were not originally born in the Capitol despite your maternal family's powerful name. You were the product of a tragic fairy tale romance. Your parents' love story was one from the books- the first-born daughter of the highest ranking military commander in Panem falling in love with a talented yet low-birth soldier who had caught the eye of your grandfather for his combat potential during an off-site training in district 7 and personally took him under his tutelage.

When your mother decided to reject an arranged marriage with one of Panem's prestigious families that could bring honor to both families, she did something no one else would expect of a prim and proper Capitol-born and raised lady. She decided to elope with your father and found refuge in a secluded village in District 11.

Your grandpa, embarrassed and outraged decided to disown your mother- not killing her as one last act of mercy being once a daughter of Carnell.

It was not until your grandfather's recent decline in health the past few years made he realised that he could not bear to separate from his precious only daughter and made arrangements for you and your mother to come back to the Capitol.

Your father had unfortunately passed away due to a sudden disease infection in his health a few years prior when you were thirteen. It was an excruciating time for you and your mother as there was no way you could seek proper medical help for him while living in the districts.

After your father's passing , your mother was struggling to provide for both of you so she agreed to come back to the Capitol for your sake when your grandfather reached out. She couldn't bear to see you suffer and wanted you to be able to have the same privileged upbringing she was born into. It was then she decided to move on from the past and accepted your grandfather's offer.

You only agreed for your mother's sake but had disdain that everything was the Capitol and for your grandfather who cold-heartedly threw your mother out. Before allowing you to make your debut into the Capitol, your grandfather hired a home tutor to prepare you enough to enter the Academy on an equal footing as any elite Capitol children.

The grueling and rigorous studying hours in your home study was an unwanted distant memory- you requested for your grandfather to dismiss the private tutor upon your enrollment and assured him you would be able to keep up once you enter the Academy.

"No, I don't have one. I didn't want one." Answering through gritted teeth, you hope that the boy in front of you can just stop.

"Then how?" Growing annoyed at his persistent questions, you decided to tell him the truth.

"I just have a good memory, okay? I can remember a lot of stuffs at once. That's all."

"That's cheating." Rolling your eyes at his pettiness, you folded your arms as you turned away from his annoying yet handsome face.

"It's not like I asked for it! Besides, the exams are not just about memorization but application of theories too. That's something even photographic memory can't help you with!" The stunned expression on Coriolanus face told you even that he had no choice but to agree with the validity of your point.

"Look, I'm sorry I took your spot. I didn't even expect to be at the top. I just want to graduate quietly, I never wanted any of this." Coriolanus grew quiet as he saw how you stared off with a forlorn look.

"Why wouldn't you not want any of this? Wealth and privilege."

"More like chains and scrutiny. He took my freedom away. And now I'm stuck here with a bunch of prissy stuck up kids." The disdain for your grandfather was evident in how you spoke with seething anger. You shot Coriolanus one last look before you walked out of the door.

This was the least expected outcome Coriolanus would have thought of when he decided to approach you. This was also the most that you two have talked ever since you have entered the Academy.

Despite being a new face and not Capitol-born, the Carnell name was too big for any elite to ignore and you soon gained some attention. There were people who admired your social standing and wanted to try to approach you for their own benefit and while some others disdained you for not being born and raised in the Capitol like them but still remained civil to you for your maternal family's namesake.

Coriolanus noticed that you kept to yourself mostly but were able to be friendly to most when approached. He seen you interact with Sejanus (of course of all people) the most- it seems that being district prior was likely the cause of why you were able to bond with him so much. Coriolanus scoffed to himself at the thought and for a moment wondered why that bothered him.

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The next time you both met again was when Coriolanus approached you during lunch. During the class before lunch, Professor Satyria announced for a paired class assignment and the whole class almost went into a frenzy when you and Coriolanus were announced as partners.

"How could you do that professor? They are literally number one and number two in the cohort! Where does that leave us?!" Upon seeing the students' fervent response, Professor Satyria smirked in child-life mischief before forming a wide Cheshire cat smile.

"Yes, I'm very aware and instead of the boring strategy to make them compete one another, I would like to see if the two top students are able to produce something far beyond my expectations!"

An invisible weight was placed on Coriolanus shoulders' at his professors words. He was her favourite student after and he did not want to disappoint her, furthermore with her expectations being set so high, the desire to meet it has caused the pressure to increased tenfold.

He hated group projects, knowing that if others failed to play their part, the brilliance of what he could create be diminished. But perhaps, if it was you- another fellow academic who has shown to be on par on his level, it could be different.

Coriolanus then decided that he needed to speak with you immediately to discuss the assignment and decided to do so during lunch. Where were you? He had never seen you once at the cafeteria during lunch.

Coriolanus then decided to approach Sejanus as much as his pride didn't want him to- figuring that if there was anyone who had a clue about where you were, it was the boy who shared a similar upbringing as you.

Sejanus figured that Coriolanus would have wanted to find you regarding the assignment and gave away your secret lunch spot. Under a tree with bright red leaves also known as the 'Burning ash', Coriolanus spotted you at the small table that was placed near the tree.

As he got closer, Coriolanus found himself feeling envious when greeted by the sight of the extravagant packed lunch that you had brought from home.

"That seems nice." He started off with a compliment to warm you up. You looked up at him with surprised doe eyes before quickly switching them to one that was guarded. He recalled that both of your last encounter with each other was far from pleasant and started to feel nervous at the thought.

"Hmm, abit too much." You brushed off his compliment as you continued to open up the different compartments of the boxes.

"The cafeteria food is actually pretty good so why...." Coriolanus tried to continue the conversation. To his surprise, you were not curt in your response and went on to explain in detail.

"My grandfather has an irrational fear of food poisoning from his warring days so he does not trust any food prepared by outsiders. He even has his own poison taster...." Rolling your eyes while continuing your explanation, you also can't help but to notice how the boy opposite you was looking at your food.

"Well, he passed his fear onto his family and does not allow us to eat any food prepared by anyone else other than our house chef unless we have a poison taster around." You continued explaining with a quirked smile as you thought about how dramatic your strict grandfather could be. Coriolanus then decided to pull out a cookie from his bag and into his mouth.

"Doesn't seem like this is poisoned." He spoke through muffled bites.

"Give it ten seconds." You quipped back playfully before Coriolanus started pretending to cough and gagged which caught you off guard. When he started to grin at your reaction, you couldn't help a smile forming on your face at the lame joke he tried to pull.

Searching for the extra spoon that was packed into your lunch to Coriolanus, you offered it to the boy in front of you. "Would you like to have some? I can't finish possibly all of them."

"Oh no- I couldn't-"

"Please. I happen to see food peeking out from your bag a couple of times. I don't know the reason but please- really. This is all too much for me and I hate to see food go to waste." At first, Coriolanus was embarrassed to hear that you have caught him in his act but it quickly turned to something else as your last statement stroke an emotional cord with Coriolanus.

You recommended for him to try the soup and your heart tightened with some warmth when you see Coriolanus taking more mouthfuls of soup. He usually had a cool facade so seeing him with such a light and boyish expression made you felt some sort of way.

The soup he had was one of the best food he had in awhile but before he could continue in his indulgence, he was then alerted about the statement you made earlier- about seeing the food that he would pack from lunch in his bag. How long have you been noticing it?

It would have been terrible if anyone else in the school knew about it and spread gossip. The fact that you knew and just kept it to yourself- Coriolanus' view of you have now moved to one in a positive light.

The two of you ate quietly without exchanging much words and instead reveled in the comforting of each other's company. The dynamics of your relationship started to change from this simple lunch onwards and the two of you started to spend more time togther.

Coriolanus and you ended up presenting the best assignment in the history of the Academy which solidified both of your reputations in the entire school. Despite being district born and raised, you definitely proven that you had 'Capitol blood' in you with your outstanding results and other students did best to not underestimate you anymore.

Coriolanus once again regained his standing as the top student the following term and both of you took turns to reclaim the top spot in a friendly competition. He gladly acknowledged you as someone who was worthy to be his academic rival and friend at the same time and would even be sincerely happy for you when your name came out on top.

The two of you always spent lunch together under the Burning Ash tree. You purposely asked for a bigger lunch to be prepared for yourself so that you could always share it with him. Sometimes you even got him to bring the extra food home too. Seeing him eating well made you feel some sort of indescribable contentment and even though he has not shared why he was always hiding and keeping food in his bag, you did not pry.

Coriolanus was grateful for this and he felt that one day, he would eventually want to share his deepest secrets that no one else knew with you.

The other students presumed that the two of you were always hanging out with each other because of the assignment that Professor Satyria gave but when the two of you continued to stay around each other after the assignment- people began to speculate especially when a guy and girl seems to be around each other most of the time.

While on the way to the restroom one day, Coriolanus was just about to open the door when he heard two boys talking about you from the inside.

"You think Y/N is together with Snow?" The first voice sounds like it belonged to Festus Creed.

"Tough to say, I mean she does talk to other guys but they're always having lunch I heard. But they don't seem like they're actually together you know?" The next voice belonged to another classmate, Apollo Ring.

"I think I'm going to ask her out." Festus spoke with an affirmative tone.

"Really? Since when do you like her?" Besides Apollo, Coriolanus also shared the same surprise upon Festus' declaration. Coriolanus inched his way closer to the door without giving away that he was there to listen in to the two boys' conversations.

"I wasn't sure about her being from the district before but she kind of proved everyone wrong at the Academy with how intelligent she is. Besides, she's way more likeable than girls like Cardew and Crane. And she's really pretty too especially when she smiles."

"You sound like you're in love already. You really think you have a chance with her? Forget Snow, her grandpa is Chief Commander Carnell." Apollo snickered at his friend who sounded like he was in a dreamy state. A gnawing feeling creeped inside Coriolanus' chest as he thought about the possibility of you going out with Festus.

Sure, Festus was an alright guy but was he worthy of you? You are afterall the only granddaughter of the Carnell family. Fester hit the nail on the head alright, you are not just beautiful but smart and likeable too. Besides the obvious attention you would get from guys, Coriolanus heard the whispers of envious girls who wanted to be like you which in itself showed how charming you were to everyone.

"You never know if you don't try, right?" Festus' voice brought Coriolanus out of his thoughts as he realised the door was opening. He was then met with the stunned faces of Fester and Apollo who were surprised to see Coriolanus at the other side of the door.

Giving a look of acknowledgment, Coriolanus pretended to be aloof and just walked past the two boys to use the restroom. As the door closed and he was left alone, Coriolanus looked up to see himself in the mirror. He felt himself feeling warm and his hand reached over to clutched the fabric that was covering where his heart would be.

What was this emotion he was feeling? He did not absolutely wanted to lose you to anyone else. Just imagining you directing your smile, the one where you would shyly look down before looking up like a ray of sunshine- at someone else but him would kill him.

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

Coriolanus was waiting outside the school for you so that you could take a short walk out before heading your separate ways home. As Coriolanus fiddled with the compass that belonged to his dad to pass the time, his instinct told him to look up and that's when he saw you stopped in your tracks by Fester.

It looked like Fester was making an attempt to swoon you as he animatedly spoke which caused you to give a pleasant smile in return. As the wind blew and your let down hair started swirling in the air, Coriolanus' breath was taken away for a short moment before it stopped short seeing Fester reaching over to tuck a strand behind your ear.

Coriolanus could see the minute flinch you made upon the sudden contact. He was not going to allow any of Fester's forlorn wish to happen and took it upon himself to stride up the long steps to where you stood.

"Y/N, there you are!" Whipping your head to Coriolanus' voice, a sense of relief washed over you at his entrance.

Just a minute ago, Festus came up to you as you were leaving the school. He mentioned that he did pretty badly in the last term assignment and was wondering if you could tutor him given that you were the top student for the subject. You were actually considering it, thinking that there was no harm.

When you first came to the Academy, you were sure to hate it knowing that it was only open to children of the most elite families in the Capitol. You knew that most of the students had a privileged upbringing and tend to be quite stuck up, specially to someone like you were originally from the district despite coming from a prominent family.

You did noticed how the students pretended to be civil to Sejanus but spoke ill of him once his back was turned afterall. You were sure that you were subjected to the same treatment but was fortunate that it didn't happen thanks to how fearsome your grandfather's reputation and name could be.

You did however find that some of the students were still pleasant such as your Clemmie, Sejanus, the Ring twins, Lysistrata and the likes. Your mind then went to Coryo (as you now called him by his request) and a small smile quirked at the thought of him.

You were sure that he was the last person you had expected to be close friends with. You knew he was a studious person and he always appeared to calm and reserved, although when he spoke- you felt a sense of charisma and wit that distinguished him from the rest.

When he had came up to confront you about knocking off the podium for last term's grades, you thought he was a sore loser but when he then approached you again for the paired assignment, he showed another side to himself.

A more vulnerable and boyish side to him that allowed you to open up to him and that's the Coryo that you find yourself drawn to. The side of him he hardly shown to anyone else but you, at least that's what you think.

Coryo's voice woke you out of your thoughts as he spoke once more. "Hey, we should get going if we don't want to be late."

"Oh, late for what?" Fester asked curiously and your mind scrambled for an answer.

"Uhm, for something." You realised that this was not going well when Fester tilted his head to the side in confusion. Turning to Coryo for help, he tapped his fingers on the book he was holding and you immediately got the hint.

"I mean, Coryo and I had study plans together."

"Oh can I join?" Stumped by Fester's persistence, you looked back at Coryo who looked almost irritated. Coriolanus then slid his hand over your shoulder and took an inch closer to you. Your ears started turning red and your heart started to race uncontrollably at the contact. Why was your body reacting like this?

"This is something that Y/N and I had already planned together." Fester was not dumb as he saw how Coriolanus was looking at him right now.

"Oh is that right? Perhaps next time, Y/N?" Fester tried his luck on you seeing how you were the one not showing any hostility towards him.

You opened your mouth wanting to answer but nothing came to your mind. Seeing as you did not know how to reject the poor boy, Coryo slid his hand down from your shoulder to your hand and interlocked your fingers together.

Before you could comprehend what he was doing, Coryo pulled you forward to follow him as he almost leaped down the stairs and he turned back to you with an unknown look.

"We're going to be late." He spoke and you then nodded along before turning back to a confused Fester. "Sorry Fester, we're going to be late!" You echoed as you followed behind Coryo.

Not caring about Fester's response, you turned back to see Coryo looking at you with a cheeky grin and you returned one in same. Coryo looked down to your intertwined hands and then back up to your smile that looked like it could compete with the Sun.

Before I held you, I didn’t know that the world I was in was this bright.

"Yes, that's right. Only smile like this for me, Y/N. No one else."

Coriolanus thought to himself as he tightened the grip of your small hand in his.

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

What do you think? Let me know in the comments! 😆

#angstsfordays #i will go to you like the first snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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nkirukaj · 2 months

Text

The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (12)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activity

Genre: Angst, Fluff, SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 6.3K

<Chapter 11

12. Deer Tingz

At work the next day Velvette was very pleased with her work, her stance, her walk, and her poses all seemed to get quite a genuine smile out of the Overlord.

“Excellent job, excellent!” she clapped

Voe stopped to look at her “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! You are definitely getting the hang of this. You know, after months of being at it,”

Voe smiles “That’s more like you,”

Velvette smiles back “Finally someone who appreciates my honesty!” Voe heads toward the dressing room “Where you going?”

Voe does a double take “Oh! I thought you wanted to see how the new clothes fit me.”

“Yeah, just change here. It’s just me, no one else.”

“Oh,” Voe is surprised

“Come on, it’ll save time!”

“Okay,”

The doe starts to undress and Velvette doesn’t even pretend to look away, she stares with her arms crossed as the doe strips to her underwear. Voe looks up for a moment to retrieve the dress, seeing her boss staring at her with a smirk. She feels a bit self-conscious “What?” she chuckles nervously

“I’m waiting for you to put on the clothes,”

“Okay,”

Voe steps into the dress and pulls it up over her body “Oh there’s a zipper,” she says

“Oh, let me help you with that,” the doll approaches the model from behind and presses her hand on Voe’s lower back, right above her tail. She slowly drags the zipper up her back, breathing on her model’s neck all the while.

There it is again, Voe thought, the warmth. She felt her nipples press against the fabric.

“Oh, that won’t do,” Velvette breathes down her neck. Voe looks up at her boss

“Hmm? What?”

“Your nipples are showing,” she runs her hands over the doe’s nipples quickly, and after it’s like it never happened “I’ll have to get you some pasties for that.” Velvette turns her around “But other than that, it fits wonderfully!” She holds Voe by the waist.

“Great,” Voe breathes out

“By the way, I’ll need you here early tomorrow for an impromptu photoshoot.” The doll walks away and Voe raises her brow “Don’t give me that look, it’s not just you. A bunch of other models will be there as well. They’ll be taking photographs for,” she turns to Voe with a glint in her eye “a billboard, planned to be mounted in the middle of Pentagram City,”

Voe seems shocked “Wait, really?”

Velvette smirks again “Yes, really.”

“Oh my gosh!” Voe exclaims, covering her mouth in glee “Oh my GOSH!”

“Yes, yes” she waves the excited model off “See? Giving me your soul wasn’t that bad right? I told you I can make your dreams come true.” Velvette puts her finger under Voe’s chin “But of course, you’re going to have to do better on info with the old-timey prick. Vox is insatiable. Have you got anything else?”

“I don’t think so. He just killed a group of demons yesterday, that’s all.”

“Really? Why?”

She shrugs “I don’t know. I guess he was mad or something,”

“Oh, the Radio Demon mad?”

“I guess he blamed me, for my live or whatever.”

Velvette grins ”So he was embarrassed? Interesting. Any more?”

Voe chuckles “I mean, I don’t know if this is anything, but…” She rolls her eyes “Recently, he’s been doing this thing, where he like…” she snickers “Sniffs me? Whenever I’m in the same room as him?”

“Wow, what a creep,” Velvette says while on her phone

“But yeah I don’t know if that’s a big thing,”

“You’re doing great,” she grabs Voe’s waist, squeezing it “Keep up the good work.” She plants kisses on both sides of Voe’s face “Now take off the dress, don’t want it getting wrinkly.”

_________________________________________________________

Voe sits in the parlor with Angel, not doing anything really, just enjoying each other’s company, when Voe’s ears turn towards the stairs. She looks up and sees Alastor approaching, grin wide as ever, the smile actually reaching his eyes at this moment.

“Hi,” she says to him, then ducking behind the couch in case he’s still angry with her

“Good afternoon, my dear.” he stops behind the couch

“You look happy,” she comments

“Taking care of a group of degenerates did satisfy me, yes”

“That’s good,” she looks up at him “Real good”

The air is awkward between them as they stare at each other

“Oh my god, would you two FUCK already?! Preferably not here, cuz I already called this room.” Angel exclaims, finally looking up from his phone. Alastor stares at the spider, confused “What?” he gets back on his phone. Voe looks back and forth between the two men.

“Anyway, is there something you need?” he asks Voe

She looks away, chest warming “Uh, no. Just wanted to know how you’re doing. ‘Cuz um, you were upset with me before.”

“I am fine, my dear. I just hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

She nods meekly and lowers herself on the couch. She takes a moment before speaking again “That was pretty cool, yesterday. Taking out all those demons.” Her face is flush as she replays it in her head

“Are you well?” he sounds confused

“Yeah! Why?”

“Why are you being nice to me? What do you want?” He raises his brow

Angel mimes fellatio off to the side, Voe slaps his hands down. “Nothing! Would you rather me be mean?”

“Well that’s your default darling, can’t blame me for being surprised.”

She shrugs again “I just thought I’d give you a compliment.” She smiles, trying to hide her arousal

“Mhmm,” Alastor’s grin grows wider, looking as confident as possible

“Oh, look at this guy,” Angel says, turning around “Look toots, you fed his ego. That’s what you don’t do here!”

“No, I’m that guy” Alastor responds playfully

Voe raised her brows in surprise “Excuse me?”

His grin takes up his whole face “I’m that guy.”

“How do you know what that means? Who taught you that? Angel, did you teach him that?”

Alastor blows a kiss at her before shadow teleporting away.

Voe stares at the spot where the stag once stood with wide eyes of disbelief.

“Did he just-?” Angel stopped himself

Voe had no words to even say at this point. Her body was boiling and she had no control over anything at all.

She ran into him later on in the hallway, where he stopped her once again

“Fine afternoon it is, hmm?”

Voe stops in her tracks “What?”

“Lovely afternoon?” he raises his brow

“Oh, um I guess so.”

“What are you heading off to do?”

She looks up at the ceiling “Nothing…”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing, you’re practically red in the face, my dear”

Voe rubs her arm “That’s nothing,”

“Oh my, I hope you’re not getting sick,” He leans down, cupping her chin “My my, you’re quite warm,” he leaves his hand under her jaw

She leans into his palm, comfortable against his fingers. Once she realizes what she’s doing pulls back “Oh, I-“

Alastor regrips her chin to keep her from leaving “Your face seems very delicate. I wonder what you looked like alive and what was your name?”

She pulls herself together for a moment to question “Why do you want to know my name?”

“Oh come now, you know my true name,”

“That’s not fair, EVERYONE knows your true name! That’s all we call you!” Alastor smiles playfully “We don’t even have a nickname to call you!

He shrugs “What can I say? I’m proud of who I am,”

“I’ll tell you my name if you let me come up with a nickname for you,”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Fair Enough,”

“I’ll call you… Bambi.”

“Bambi?” He raises his brow

“Yes.”

“Fine then,” he twirls his cane “I’ll call you Belle.”

“Why?” She asked fiercely

“Because you insist on misusing the word ‘Beau’ when the term Belle is the correct one.”

“It just means good-looking,”

“Technically true, but it is generally used towards men, to mean ‘handsome’.”

“There are handsome women.”

Alastor chuckles “You my dear, are not a handsome woman.”

Voe crosses her arms “There’d better be more to that statement.”

He holds his cane with both of his hands “First off, you are small. Your face is round and your features are soft. Your eyes are piercing but in a gentle way. Your skin is supple and smooth, and your lips are full and plump. Your entire look and demeanor exude femininity. Which isn’t bad of course. But it isn’t how one would define ‘handsome’.” In the time that he was speaking, a blush had crept up the doe’s face. “So I shall call you Belle. It is more appropriate.”

“You already call me Voe,” her voice lowering slightly

“Yes, but that is not a nickname, it is your new name.”

Her eyes dart around before landing on the man’s face. She takes it in and really looks at him, getting lost in his features, he notices of course and his smile turns cocky as her body grows warm once more.

“It’s Vera.” She says between heavy breaths “My given name is Vera.”

Alastor places both of his hands behind his back “My my, that’s a beautiful name! And very fitting for you and your face. I think I like it more than ‘Voe’ actually!”

“Yeah, well my name down here is ‘Voe’, so don’t go around calling me that in front of other people.”

Alastor leans down to meet her eyes, his scent hitting Voe right in the nose “But it’s fine in private?” he asks, his crimson eyes riddled with mischievous intent, as he was unaware of what his look and his tone were doing to her body right now.

“I mean, I guess if that’s what you want..” she mumbles, blushing and unable to cope with how close he was to her face.

“Lovely,” his pitch lowered and his radio filter removed, to reveal a smooth and suave, voice that had been hidden all along. Voe could not do this right now, she was going insane, because Alastor was doing so many attractive things and he wasn’t backing away, so she couldn’t even hide her face.

He finally stood up straight once more, his arms and his cane in front of him.

“Well, I have some business to handle at the moment, but do come and find me again” he removes the filter and lowers his voice once more “Vera,” before he dissipates in front of her

She was finally able to breathe once he left, and luckily she didn’t expose the waterfall she felt between her legs.

______________________________________________________

Voe arrived at the studio at 7 AM with a bunch of bustling women. Velvette had sent a car to pick her up, filled with coffee and hot chocolate which she was currently sipping as she entered. She didn’t understand how people could be so full of energy this early in the morning.

“Put that over there-! What are you doing with that?! I did NOT tell you to touch that! Put it down! Are you an idiot?! Yeah, you! Are you an idiot?! No, I’m actually asking! ARE YOU A FUCKING IDIOT, YOU BITCH ASS CUNT?! MELISSA, FOR THE FIFTH TIME, OVER HERE!” Velvette turns in every direction screaming at every possible person “Valentino! What are you doing?!”

The moth stood in the corner of the studio, with a compact “I’m powdering my nose bebita,”

“Don’t baby me motherfucker! Get off your buggy ass and HELP ME!!” the makeup artist trailing behind Velvette was having a hard time placing the makeup on her face

“Oh, Miss Velvette-“

The doll ignored her “Get off your ASS!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get your actors together! They’re in the corner FUCKING EACH OTHER!!”

Valentino turns to see his actors in a giant orgy “Come on amorcitos,” His mouth spreads into a devilish grin “Without me?”

“UGH!” she stomps her foot in frustration

“You know, that’s very unattractive for a lady,”

“Valentino…help me or I will kick your ass!”

The moth man purrs “Don’t threaten me with a good time,”

Velvette’s rage bubbles over, she turns and grabs a cup of coffee from Melissa, throwing it at Val “DAMN IT VALENTINO!!”

“Okay okay!” He flinches away from the scalding coffee

Voe stands in the corner and watches all of the chaos, sipping the remains of her hot chocolate. Another demoness comes and taps her on the shoulder, making her flinch.

“Oh, um sorry. Are you Voe?” she asked

“Yes,”

“Um, I was assigned to you. To do your makeup.”

Voe hands her the cup “Can you throw this out?”

“Oh, uh okay,” She takes the cup and walks off

Voe walks up to her boss, not knowing if it’s okay to touch her “Um Velvette,”

“WHOEVER IS ORGANIZING THESE FILES IS GETTING FIRED!!” she throws them on the ground “MELISSA PICK THESE UP!!”

“Velvette?”

“WHAT? What?” She turns to Voe. “Go over there and get changed!” She points to a corner

Voe heads over to her area that’s partitioned off, there hangs the dress she had tried on. A slim-fit hot pink bodycon dress with one puffed sleeve. She pulled it up over her body, noticing the extra padding in her breast area since the last time.

“What do you mean you lost her?? She’s in her corner!! WHERE YOU SHOULD BE!!!!!! I swear the NEXT PERSON who is in the wrong place is getting FIRED!!!!!”

The makeup artist comes behind the partition “Oh, there you are. Can I take down your hair?”

Voe shrugs “It’s your job,”

The makeup artist runs her hands through Voe’s curls, pulling them back into a ponytail. After about ten minutes she turned Voe around to reveal the final look. “And voila!”

Voe looks at herself, she looks like a clown. The foundation is 5 shades too light and none of the colors or styles match her features “What did you do to my face?”

Velvette comes in “All right we’ve got about 10 minutes I hope you’re finished,”

Voe turns to her boss “Look what she did to my face!”

Velvette snatches the model’s face, turning it vigorously. She looks at the makeup artist “You’re fired. Get out now! AND LEAVE THE MAKEUP! I swear I have to do everything myself around here!” She sprays Voe’s face with a spray bottle “Don’t move!’

Thirty minutes later Voe leaves the partition with her makeup done perfectly, pink eyelids to match the dress, perfectly done eyebrows, and highlighted cheekbones with a natural lined lip. She steps out into the studio waiting on Velvette’s word.

“All right, you’re good. Come,” She zips up the dress from behind her and leads her to the studio. “Valentino, are your actors ready or not?!”

Voe tilts her head, squinting in Val’s direction. He’s yelling at someone, yanking them by their arms and grabbing them around the throat.

“Valentino!”

“WHAT?!”

“Stop playing with your boy toy and get him on set!” She crosses her arms

Val whispers something else to the demon and throws him toward the rest of the models and actors, as he comes forward Voe can see that it’s Angel.

“Angel?” She calls her friend “Angel,” she calls slightly louder

Velvette snaps in front of her “Voe, pay attention. You need to be here.” She points at a spot in the middle “You’re right in the center, so you’re getting the most attention. You’re my flagship model, so you have to be on your A-game. Hey! Are you listening?”

“Yes yes, I’m listening.”

“Good. Alright! We’re going to be doing the group photos first, then individuals! After that, my employees can go home. I have no idea what Valentino has planned for the rest of you! Let’s do it!”

They posed for hours as Velvette insisted on more and more photos. Moments where she had to stop and physically reposition some models, or where Valentino came to have a ‘chat’ with some of his actors about smiling. Angel was positioned next to her and in between moments of shooting, she tried to take quick glances at him. She was unsure if he was so in the zone that he didn’t notice her or if she was being ignored. There was a moment where Velvete and Valentino started arguing about whether or not some of the models and actors should make out, which is when she made her move to speak.

“Angel,” she whispered, trying not to move out of position

“Huh?” he finally responded

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,”

“Yeah, it’s for the actors and models…” he trails off

She glances at him “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,”

“You looked kinda sad,”

“Nah,”

“Are you sure?”

He nods “I’m sure,”

“Okay,” she puts her face back the way it was before, just in time for Velvette to continue the shoot.

After another hour Velvette yelled out “Alright the rest of you fuck off, we want some of just you two,” she pointed at her and Angel “Okay I want you two back to back for this one”

“Ay Chiquita, this is boring!” Val walks onto the set “Why don’t we sex it up?” He shimmies toward Velvette

She shrugs “Why not?”

“We should have your little doe here sit on Ángel’s lap,” he grins with pleasure

She looks up at her friend, seeing his discomfort with that suggestion

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She speaks between her teeth

“Yes,” he mumbles

“You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I’m fine.” he grits his teeth

He sits down and she sits on top of his lap as instructed.

“Put your arms around her waist,” the moth tells the spider. He leans down to speak to Voe “Relax chica, he doesn’t bite, back up,” he pushes her back by her shoulders onto Angel’s crotch. She hears the spider huff and then groan. This earns him an evil eye from Valentino, displeased with the noise.

“Can we hurry this up, we still have singles to take!”

“You heard her Angel, hurry this up.” Val’s voice bordering on threatening

Angel pulls Voe closer, she is for once aware of the tension in the room but isn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Great, take the pictures,” Velvette calls

“Ooh, how about another where you two kiss each other.”

“I swear you are not using that picture,”

Valentino grins disgustingly “I’m using it for something,”

The doll rolls her eyes “I swear, you love wasting my time. Whatever, get it over with.”

“What’s a kiss between friends?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Voe stands up

“I do have other things to do Valentino,” Vel rolls her eyes

Voe waves her arms “Excuse me?” Both the Overlords turn to look at her

“Is there a problem?” Vel asks

She looks around “Yeah, what the fuck are we doing?”

“A photoshoot?” Val says condescendingly

“Yeah, why are we kissing though?”

“Just to liven things up a bit,”

“Yeah, but he’s super gay though.”

Val raises an eyebrow “Oh, does Angel have a problem?” He looks behind her at the spider, who lowers his head

“No, this is all me.”

Val turns to Velvette “You did say this is your employee, right?”

Velvette scoffs “Oh fuck off.” She turns to Voe “What’s the problem?”

“I just don’t understand why we’re throwing in random shit,”

She rolls her eyes “So you don’t want to do it?”

“I want to do the photo shoot, but maybe not this…?”

Vel turns to Val “She doesn’t want to do it.”

Valentino sneers at the doe, and then his smile returns “Fine, fine. It was just a suggestion,”

“I’m okay with doing it,” Angel chirps up, but it’s too late

“Nope, we’re moving on!” Velvette calls out, shooing Angel off. He walks over to his boss who snatches him up and starts berating him like before.

“Let’s get you in a two-piece,” Velvette suggests off to the side. Meanwhile, Voe is too busy watching her friend be degraded by his boss. Velvette snaps in her face “Voe!”

“Huh? Yes?”

“I said, let’s get you in a two-piece, come on pay attention!”

“Yes, of course,” she says taking one last glance

The singles went by fine enough, they had her posing with a hot pink whip, one where she lays down with her legs kicking upward, and one where she’s squatting with her back to the camera. It all went by so fast since she wasn’t thinking about herself. In all her free moments she kept staring back at Angel to see how he was doing, and every time he wore the same grim expression, though she knew he would never admit that something was wrong. Once her singles were over, she was dismissed from the shoot.

“Um, is it okay if I stay and watch?”

“Whatever, just take off the outfit.”

When it came time for Angel’s singles, Valentino was up and present. Angel does a bevy of sexy and provocative poses as Val just watches him. Voe swore she could see a bulge rising in the moth’s pants. Gross. She thought.

“Finally, we’re done. You are all dismissed!” Velvette screams out, walking back into her office.

Voe walks up to Angel “Hey,”

“Hey,” he sounds monotone

“I watched your singles.”

Angel smiles “Oh yeah, what’d you think?”

She smiles back “I think you sir, were born to be on camera.”

He looks flattered “You weren’t so bad yourself,”

“Thanks,” he nods at her smiling “Did you wanna go home together?”

“Yeah, sure I-“

“Angel baby,” Valentino calls for him “Let’s go,”

Angel’s face falls “I’ll just see you back at the Hotel,”

“You don’t want me to wait for you?”

“No,” he shakes his head “Just go I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” She glances back at Valentino, who looks a bit too smug for her taste. She squints her eyes at him “Okay, bye.” She holds her arms out for a hug, Angel goes to hug her back, but Valentino calls again

“Angel,” more stern this time

“Bye,” Angel says and follows his boss out of the studio.

Voe stands in the same spot watching after them for a while before going back up to her boss who jumps at her presence.

“Fuck! Warn a bitch next time! Almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“Is Valentino like that all the time?” she asked with no lead-up

She scoffs “Nah, he’s just a big baby,”

“That was pretty weird, no?”

“That’s just business.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“The whole ‘trying to make us kiss’ thing?”

“Nah, he’s just weird. and annoying. Ugh Throwing me off schedule. I swear those two are always throwing me off schedule.”

But Voe isn’t listening “Is there something weird going on?”

Velvette blinks at her “What do you mean?”

“Like, with him and Angel.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Velvette turns stern “Voe.”

“Yes?”

“Do you work for Valentino or do you work for me?”

“I work for you,”

“So focus on what I tell you to do and not what’s going on over there. Got it?”

Voe lowers her eyes and volume “Yes ma’am.”

________________________________________________________

Voe enters from the front doors and approaches the bar where Husker drunkenly stares off into nothing.

“Hey Husk,” she waves her hand in his face

“Hey you,” and stares past her

“I’d like a drink, and you have to make it for me now.” She purses her lips in superiority

The bartender scoffs and rolls his eyes in her direction

“What?”

“I can’t believe he has me making you this trash,”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t get it. He’s killed other demons for less than all the shit you’ve pulled since you got here. Why are you still breathing?” An exasperated Husk questions the doe at the bar

“Because he likes me,” she responded confidently

“No, but really”

“I’m serious! He likes me!” Voe insisted to the bartender

“That son of a bitch doesn’t like anyone.”

She taps the table excitedly “Well, he likes me. I’m sure of it!”

Husk sucks his teeth “Yeah, whatever.” He slides her the glass, which she happily takes and sips with grace. Over towards the couches, Voe could hear familiar footsteps approaching.

“Speak of the Devil,” she says in a sing-song tone.

Alastor sits on the couch reading, while Charlie and Vaggie are conversing with one another. Voe approaches him after downing her drink.

“Hi,” she whispers in his ear

Alastor looks up to acknowledge her “Good evening,”

“What’s that?”

“This my dear is a book,”

She rolls her eyes “Duh. How are you?”

“I’m quite well, how was your work?”

She leans on the back of the couch “Fun,”

“Is it all you’ve ever dreamed of?” He asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice

“Hmm, I suppose so.”

“Good for you, darling,” He returns his attention to the book in his hands.

Voe stared down at the overlord sitting and fought with an overwhelming impulse. She fought…and lost. Bending forward toward his side profile, he felt her breath on his skin, but before he could turn and react, she took her elongated tongue and dragged it up from his chin to his eye. Alastor slowly turns his head up and stares at her like she’s lost her mind. Charlie and Vaggie see this and wait with bated breath.

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with you?” He stands, his hands behind his back

She looks to the side “I don’t think so.”

“Then, why on earth would you put your tongue on me? On my face no less.”

“Why do you have such a lickable face?” He stares at her stunned “Besides, I just had the urge. You can’t lick me back because I have makeup on.” She smiles smugly “But idk. Deer tingz” she waves him off

“Regardless of your reasoning, it was entirely inappropriate, and I expect it never to be repeated. Are we clear?”

His stern tone has her dripping, she bats her eyes coyly and nods, answering “Yes Mr. Radio Demon.”

He squints, full of frustration “I don’t feel like you’re taking me seriously,”

Voe can’t help but stare at him, drinking in his body “Oh I am,”

Alastor begins to stretch unnaturally, his limbs elongate in strange and monstrous ways. His antlers grow enormous. His eyes turn black and his mouth drips with blood, while he emits deer screeching.

“A̶̧͔̘͕͈̱̥̍̃ͅr̷̮̪͕͐̃̎ë̵̤̫̼̜͍̞́ ̴̨͇͚̦͚̒̌͒̾̌̅̐̂w̸̭̙̮̐͌̓́͌̅ȩ̴̬͙͓̠̩̝̦̻͒͐̄̊̀̈́̏͂͐ ̸̧̮̜̟̫̫̖̰̻̪͌̑̅̂̕͘͝͠͝c̸̡͖̹͖͎̾̿̋̊͝͠͠ͅl̸̠͚͊̿̿̽̄͋͐̚͘͝ͅẹ̸̱͖͔͉͉̝͚̄̌͋̌̕ą̵̮̖̘̏͂r̷͕̰̫̮͍̺̾͂̕͝?̶̲̖̠͕̫̺̼̮̻̌̔̊̑” His voice distorts, sounding more radio than human

But surprisingly, Voe just takes a step back, her eyes widening, and bites her lip, looking absolutely giddy. She nods again and releases her lip staring at him with an open mouth.

“I love it when you get scary,” she grins maniacally.

He returns to his normal form with a look of shock, disgust, confusion, amusement, and intrigue on his face, his smile still intact. “Are you unwell?”

She leans in, standing on her tiptoes “Are you?”

His eyes settle, determining that his interest was warranted.

“See this is the shit I’m talking about!” Husk calls from the bar

Alastor gathers his book and shadows away, unclear of how to proceed with this interaction

“Bye,” she says, waving at the empty spot

Hours later Angel finally walks through the door, looking battered and bruised. He heads towards the stairs to get to his room. Voe chases after him.

“Hey,” she touches his shoulder, and he turns around. She can see that he has a black eye. “Oh my gosh! What happened to you?”

He waves it off “Rough shoot,”

“You did a whole nother shoot?”

Angel furrows his brows “Well, I am an actor.”

“Is that where you got that black eye from?”

“Like I said, rough shoot.” He sighs “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, Angel.” He turns back looking kind of annoyed “You’d let me know if you weren’t okay, right?”

He pauses for a second “Yeah,” he responds, and walks away. But she already knows that he’s lying.

____________________________________________________

A/N: ok so the smut is below this line here; just a head's up!

Lucifer hears a knock on his door while he’s lying in his bed, thinking about anything and everything, so he is quite grateful for the distraction.

“Hi,” Voe stood in his doorway

“Hey Ducky, come in come in.” she does and he closes the door behind her

She turns around abruptly and states “I need a favor,”

“Yeah, anything.”

She shakes her head “No, you don’t understand. Thank you so much for the duck and all but this next favor is like a huge deal.”

“Okay…” He says somewhat confused

“Okay, so I’ve been feeling really emotional, and everything’s buzzing in my head and everywhere I go, I start heating up becauseeveryoneisreallysexyandIdon’tknowwhattodowithmyselformybodyrightnowbecauseI’msoconfused-“

Lucifer grabs her shoulder “Whoa, hey. Just tell me what you want. I promise I’ll do it.”

She gulps and takes a deep breath “Will you have sex with me?”

Lucifer blinks in stunned shock and doesn’t answer immediately. Voe feels a pit in her stomach as her embarrassment grows

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” She turns to leave when Lucifer snaps back into reality

“Hey! You don’t have to leave!”

“No it’s fine! I’ll go!”

“Voe…”

“No!” She yells her face burning

Just before she reaches the door, Lucifer grabs her arm, pulling her back and against his chest. He wraps that arm around her waist and plants a deep kiss on her lips. When he pulls away, he says “I said, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” With his thumb on her chin.

Voe grabs Lucifer’s face and pulls him back into another kiss. They grab at each other like they can’t control themselves, he reaches up cupping her breast in his hand and massaging it through her clothes. She moans at the sensation, and the throbbing in her clothed cunt grows more intense. Lucifer uses his magic to lock the bedroom door and leads her over to his bed, where he has her sit.

He looks up at her “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” she replies quickly, ready to be taken by the King.

He goes down and removes her pants, kissing all the way up her legs until he reaches her soaked panties, planting a kiss there as well. He had caught a taste of her wetness and was now craving more on his legs, on his cock, on his tongue. He takes off his shirt and his hands under hers, lifting it off. He returns to her chest to rub and pinch her nipples through her bra, Voe moaning all the while. She pulls him close with her legs as she feels herself getting wetter and wetter. Lucifer’s cock jumps against the restraints of his pants and underwear, but for now, he ignores it as pools down her bra and sucks on each nipple, switching between them until he pulls them both together and sucks on them at the same time.

Voe pushes his face into her breasts “Harder,” she commands him “Suck them harder,” as his suction on them increases. He pops them out of his mouth and lies her down by gently laying on top of her.

He traps her lips in a kiss as twists and plays with her nipples, moving down to her neck, kissing and licking.

“Let your king hear you, baby,” he whispers to her “Make some noise for Your Majesty,” he sucks on her neck making her moan as he pinches her nipples, leading to her first orgasm of the night.

“Oh cumming for me already? Well, I’m not finished with you yet,” he holds her by the throat.

He walks his hand down to her panties, peeling them off. He’s smacked in the face with the tasty scent of her dripping cunt.

“Wanna unbuckle me, Ducky? Hmm?” He bites his lip

She unbuckles his pants and pulls them down, along with his boxers to set free his thick white cock. Voe bites her lip and pumps it, just to feel it in her hand. Lucifer moans her name at this touch.

She lines the tip up to her soaking core “Take me now please,” she whimpers, as he enters her cunt, pumping slowly and gently, while losing his mind at how wet she is.

“It feels so good Ducky, do I make you feel good?”

She nods, reaching up for him, her palms slapping down on his back. He increases his speed, feeling the bed shaking slightly.

“Yes,” She moans looking up at him. “You’re so hot Luci, so fucking hot,”

His neck reddens. “You’re so fucking sexy,” increasing his thrusting speed once more while his expert fingers find their way to her swollen clit. Another orgasm ripped through her body, harder than the first as Lucifer excitedly pulled out from her and laid on his back, hungrily stating “Sit on my face,”

Voe’s eyes widen “Are you sure?” She asks self-consciously

He nods and sticks out some of his forked tongue “Yes. I have to taste you, gotta have that pussy on my tongue” he wiggles his tongue at her

“Okay,” she giggles at his excitement before lowering herself onto him, instantly feeling his tongue making its way around her folds, licking up the access wetness around her cunt then landing on her actual lips. She moans as his tongue finds and flicks her clit, circling it reverently before finally inserting his tongue into her cunt. Voe moans as she can feel his tongue expertly slithering deep inside her and stimulating all the sensitive spots of her walls, this sensation made her twitch not just with her cunt but her entire body. He reaches up, grabbing her waist to still her as if to say sit and feel this pleasure I’m giving you.

She rocks back and forth, creating friction against her clit, Lucifer returns his attention to the bud, gently sucking on it to intensify her current sensations. Her third orgasm took them both by surprise as she dripped all over Lucifer’s face, just after he finished licking it up. She gets off of him blushing, harder than ever before.

He sits up with a giant grin “That was great! Are you down for one more?”

Voe bites her tongue “Yes”

“Amazing,” his eyes turn red as his voice swells with lust “Get on your knees for me okay?”

She obliges and he pushes her top half down, so only her butt is in the air. She heard him reach over to the side of the bed, then felt him place something on her head. It was his hat.

“Since you love to wear it, I figured you could wear it while you take my cock. Is that okay?” He whispered

She nods in response while Lucifer stands. The very next thing she feels is his fingers teasing her folds as if she wasn’t wet enough. He dips them inside her for just a few seconds to make her jump. He then rubs the tip of his cock against her puffy clit, just to tease her further.

When he finally does enter her, he does so just as gently as before but picks up much quicker than earlier. He’s holding her by her hips, listening to her moans, and watching his hat bounce on her head.

The more he fucked her, the wetter she became, dripping all over his cock. He pulls her so she’s in an upright position, so he can hold her by the throat.

Feeling him deep inside her as he thrusts upwards, he’s able to play with her clit as well as watch her breasts bounce from behind her.

“That’s right baby, bounce on your King’s cock.” He whispers to her, kissing her shoulder. “Fuck!” He yells out

Voe’s eyes are closed tightly so she can focus on feeling the pleasure. Lucifer’s voice in her ear just added something extra, she reaches behind her and pulls him close, he bites her shoulder with his sharp teeth. Besides their breathing, all that can be heard is the sound of her wetness, sticky and dripping on the bed.

“Fuck! I’m gonna-“She doesn’t even finish her sentence before the waves of intense pleasure burst through her body. She lets her head fall, Lucifer picks it back up and buries his face in the crook of her neck, as he fucks her through it. The waves get smaller and smaller until she twitches one final time, which allows Lucifer to empty inside her. They stay in that position until they are both still. Then she flops off of him onto the bed.

She feels him touch her arm, “How do you feel?”

“Better,” she says without moving “Like I can actually think now, so thank you.” She turns to him and smiles

“No, thank you,” he grins handing her a bottle of water “That has been on my mind since we kissed.” He heads to the bathroom

She drinks from the bottle and laughs “You could’ve asked!” She calls after him

He comes back into the room with a towel and dabs her face and body with it, removing her sweat. “I know,” he chuckles “I guess I was nervous,”

Voe raises a brow “The most powerful being in Hell, nervous to ask me for sex?”

He laughs again, dabbing her legs now “You may not notice, but you’ve got some power yourself, Voe. Your confidence is legendary, and it can intimidate even me,” he walks his fingers up her legs as she drinks more from the water bottle.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly

"For what?” He sits next to her

“Reminding me,”

Chapter 13>

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mintygreencake · 1 month

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Wanna do a height chart and body study for all my Redacted Audio Listener Ocs since I have a lot- 😭

Oh also, trigger warning for Scars and self harm scars (not sure if they need warnings but just to be sure! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) )

Darlin': 6"4

(Weight lifts as a hobby, likes to do daily exercises to destress. Eats more then most, mainly meat, raw. Many scars and self harm scars from his time with Quinn and after him, has stopped but does struggle with picking at scars. Was a chain smoker but only does it once a month now, planning on quitting entirely soon)

Lovely: 5"4

(Very skinny, not built at all. struggled a lot with weight gain but now a days he eats human food more then they did when alive, blood is still his favorite...Likes the taste of iron. Oddly enough. Heart tattoo to cover a mole, on the left side of his face under his eye. has another mole on his back just above his right...other cheek.)

Treasure: 5"11

(Trans man, lean and not really built like Darlin'. The hip dips are very apparent...Much to Porter's glee. shaves but does have a happy trail, just shaves it. vampire piercing and nipple piercings with chains, can remove them and does. Has a diamond tattoo on his back, no color.)

Headshot pics below! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

#redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted fandom #redacted listener #minty redacted listeners ocs #digital drawing #digital sketch #character design #redacted darlin #redacted lovely #redacted treasure

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lizzybeth1986 · 16 days

Text

Laylat al-Henna

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kiara Theron x Hana Lee

Word Count: 1, 882 words

Summary: It's the night before Kiara and Hana's wedding! What fun things do Kiara's cousins from Fes have in store for their henna night?

A/N: You'll find details and visuals on the fashion and henna designs (as well as faceclaims for the OCs!) in this post.

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 1: Culture, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW/LGBTQ Archive, @choicespride as well even though it may be a bit early for the pride event.

It is tradition - Kiara has been told over and over, wedding after wedding, from the time she was twelve - for a woman to have her bridegroom's name hidden in the designs of her henna.

Their families back in Fes would make a game of it on their wedding night; the groom could touch his bride only when he found his name, tiny and dark and perfect - leaving the most beautiful stain on her palms.

At least four (well...three, really) of those cousins had giggled over how it all went down at their own wedding nights. Nour's henna had her husband's name written in extremely small print, squirreled away among a row of curls. Imane's flowed along the curves of a large, floral paisley. Nissrine's husband was rumoured to have taken hours searching for his name in her henna and poor Fatimazahra's collapsed into an eight-hour slumber before he could even truly try.

All four of them laughed even harder when they were told that Kiara would be marrying a woman.

At first Kiara assumed it had to be the fun of celebrating two brides rather than just one. Double the joy, double the dancing, double the bridal henna!

Should've known better, Kiara mutters to herself as her eyes search frantically for telltale signs of calligraphy along the darkened vines on Hana's palm.

She almost lets out a triumphant yell when she catches a lovingly inscribed kaaf, deceptively mirroring the vines. That's before she realises the other four letters are scattered in Arabic all over Hana's palm.

Kiara purses her lips, immensely annoyed. Why did she think this to be so romantic in the first place?

"Oh!" Hana whispers in delight, "Look! I've found mine." Her finger lightly traces the soft skin underneath Kiara's little finger, caressing the spot where her own name is inscribed, in Mandarin....as a whole word. Her eyes sparkle in childlike glee.

Kiara manages to catche an alif peeking out from behind a flower on the soft skin just below Hana's thumb. She lets out a small huff of laughter, shaking her head.

Perhaps she should thank every deity of every faith that her parents' gave her a name as short as Kiara. Imagine her plight if it had been as long as Fatimazahra's, zut alors.

"My darling cousins," she says, her eyes still roaming over Hana's palms. Now...now she understands all those hearty cackles Nour seemed to be making, at the idea of arranging a henna party for two women. "Elles me conduiront à ma tombe!"

Every woman at the henna party in Castelserraillan that night shared very knowing grins as Kiara and Hana entered - completely blissed out, skin dewy and aglow, a mixture of a french lavender scent and the earthy aroma of ghassoul clay emanating from their bodies.

They'd been brought into the hall like princesses of old, carried in jewelled palanquins, dressed in caftans and takchitas whose golden threads reflected the soft light of the hall, the candles that seemed to receive their own henna treatment in tones of pink, purple and rose gold, and their light glowed softly in trays of pure gold.

Having experienced the joys of the pre-henna night hammam baths themselves, most of Kiara's aunts and cousins could tell how good the treatments must have been within the first ten minutes of a bride entering the ceremony.

Beneath her golden veil, Kiara's eyes roamed around the hall, in awe of the sheer love and detail that must have gone into planning this party alone. Both women being daughters to a multitude of cultures meant that Kiara and Hana had to pay their respects to several of their homes - Bethulia. Castelserraillan. Udvada. Orleans. Fes. Shanghai. Cordonia. - in different ceremonies, and include a multitude of relatives.

Which meant that Kiara's aunts and cousins knew this night was their moment to shine.

Hana was whisked to another corner of the room before Kiara could even get a chance to speak to her - a bevy of ladies already surrounding her to fulfill requests, give her mint tea, admire the henna's artist's craft or just for a small chat. Anything and everything Hana wanted. Tonight (and this was exactly how Kiara wanted it) Hana was going to be treated like a queen.

From under her lashes, Kiara sneaked a look at Hana. The woman she would call her wife tomorrow. Listening, nodding, her silken brown hair catching the glow of the lights as she threw her head back at a joke her aunt Hala said.

"If you stare any harder you'll bore a hole in the wall behind her," Nissrine came to her, grinning as she followed Kiara's gaze. She looked around the hall, slightly doubtful. "How did we do?"

Kiara laughed, placing her free hand on her cousin's arm, reassuring her with the word they would all use to describe something as beautiful. "Zwina."

Fatimazahra - who had been minding the caterers this whole time - seemed to appear out of nowhere, chukling. "Tomorrow is her wedding night. Of course everything will be zwina. The macroute will be zwina, her henna will be zwina, her wife will be the most zwina."

Kiara moved her gaze from Hana to her own palms, admiring the naqasha's speed and precision. The henna felt cool on her left palm, the designs on her arms already beginning to dry a little and the paste itself smelling pleasant and earthy - the way real henna should.

The naqasha - an experienced henna artist from their hometown whose team had become popular among the family circles for their vast knowledge of different henna styles (Indian, Pakistani, Khaleeji, Fassi, Marrakechi, Meknessi, Saharawi - you name it) - had finished making a beautiful dome at the centre of Kiara's palm, and was now referring to a tiny piece of paper Imane seemed to have given her before carefully writing out Méihuā - the name Hana's paternal family often used for her - in Hànzì script.

Kiara smiles mistily as she watches Soraya, the naqasha, labour over each character of the script, making sure she never got a single line or slant wrong. Hana often told her that that name reminded her of happier times, far more than her own birth name did. It meant plum blossom - the flower that grew fragrant and resilient in the snow, China's national flower. Her Năinai's favourite flower.

And over the past year...she'd begun to answer to it a little more too.

Kiara mouthed a silent "thank you" to Imane as she sauntered to her side, looking very pleased with herself.

"Wonderful work, Soraya," she patted the naqasha lightly on her shoulder, "What oils did you add in the henna paste this time?"

"Tea tree, geranium and lavender," Soraya said, smiling, "She can hold her hands in front of some herbal incense later. A lovely rich colour and the scent will be incredible."

"Ohhh...what a deep stain it'll leave behind when the henna comes off!" Imane looked back at Kiara, winking. "Remember what our aunts used to tell us, Kiara? The darker the stain of the henna, the deeper the essence of his love. Or her's, in this case."

Kiara was grateful for her golden veil as heat creeped up her neck. Maman loved that adage, ever since her own wedding where - if Kiara's aunts were to be believed - her henna deepened to a dark, rich brown without even holding her hands to a brazier like everyone else did.

Kiara always liked to call herself a practical woman. But this didn't stop her from dreaming of showing Hana her palms, rich and deep brown from both henna and their love.

"Is Hana liking her designs?" Kiara asked Imane.

"Iyyeh," Imane nodded. "Soraya's girls have really outdone themselves. Indian designs are usually very elaborate, but Hana wanted something simple, a little floral."

She gave Kiara a wolfish grin, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I think you're going to love it."

Kiara narrowed her eyes at Imane. She knew that look. It was the kind she would give all her cousins when, as children, she was about to do skin her knees climbing the branches of a fig tree.

Kiara was going to open her mouth to ask what Imane had in mind, when the low, deep strains of the guembri rang throughout the room.

It was Nissrine's younger sister Nour, closing her eyes in reverence and plucking the strings of the family guembri - a legacy from her father, a renowned Gnawa master himself. The guembri had been in the family for generations, itself decorated with henna patterns so intricate it would amaze even the best of naqashas.

As the women in her family got up to dance to "Toura Toura", a song Kiara would listen to and relish in 12 hour lilas every year in Fes (singing in Bambara - a language neither she nor her cousins truly understood but loved to hear), she found herself somehow dancing next to the woman she had been craving to see for the last few hours.

"Well, hello there," Kiara said, sneaking a kiss to Hana's cheek.

Hana giggled. "Fancy running into you."

They danced until their feet were sore, until their eyes begged for sleep, until their henna dried - leaving behind a stain that was a deep, dark, rich brown.

"They did that on purpose!" Kiara huffs, ten minutes after she has triumphantly shown Hana the final letter - the rāy curling at the base of her wrist. "They were planning to annoy and vex me this entire time. If they were here right now I'd tell them to go cook themselves an egg."

For all her grumbling, however, Kiara was quite overjoyed. She had hoped that her extended family in Fes would adore Hana just as much as she did, that they would love her and pamper her silly. They went above and beyond; they made Hana's first real experience of Morocco practically unforgettable.

It was. In every sense of the word. Even if that involved secretly pulling Kiara's leg.

Hana pouts, her fingers still tracing the name on Kiara's palm. "I wish they scattered letters for me too. Seems like more of a challenge." She shifts a little more into Kiara's arms, turning her gaze to her own palms. "Not that I don't love your henna already. It's gorgeous; look at these curls in the center! They remind me of a compass rose."

Hana runs her fingers purposefully along the length of Kiara's body. She presses five tiny kisses along her face.

"A kiss for each letter," she hums happily against Kiara's skin, "A just reward for your hard work."

Laughter bubbles in Kiara's throat. "Only five?"

"Kiara Yasmine Thorne," Hana's voice takes on a raspy, sultry quality, "Don't be greedy."

"Ma moitie," she whispers back, "I believe tonight's the one night when greed is allowed."

Hana bites her lower lip to stem her own laughter, then lets her lips roam free over Kiara's face.

"Fine, then," Hana huffs in mock-petulance, only too happy to go along with the joke, "Eighteen kisses it is."

Kiara buries her hands in Hana's hair as she breathes in the fragrance from between her shoulder and neck. "I won't mind if you give me more...but alright. Eighteen's a start."

Translation -

Darija:

Kaaf (ك), yaa (ي), alif (ا)(twice), rāy (ر) are the isolated letters that - I think - will form Kiara's name in Arabic. I believe that it may look somewhat like this (كيارا) when written as one word, but the letters are meant to be scattered around Hana's henna just to tease Kiara.

Ghassoul/Rhassoul clay - a type of clay that some people use as a cosmetic product for their skin and hair. It’s a brown clay only found in a valley in the Atlas mountains of Morocco. The term “rhassoul” comes from an Arabic word that means “to wash.” Typically used in hammam baths.

Zwina - a compliment, literal meaning is beautiful or good.

Macroute - a diamond shaped sweet cookie filled with dates and nuts or almond paste.

Naqasha - Henna artist

Guembri - a three stringed skin-covered bass plucked lute used by the Gnawa people

Lila - a rich ceremony in the Gnawa community, of song, music, dance, costume, and incense that takes place over the course of an entire night, ending around dawn. Learn more here.

Toura Toura - Popular Gnawa song. Here is a version by Innov Gnawa.

French:

zut alors - an expression of annoyance, like saying "darn!" or "damn!", mostly used in non-serious instances.

Elles me conduiront à ma tombe! - They will lead me to my grave!

Va te faire cuire un œuf! - Literally, "go cook yourself an egg!". An expression of annoyance, similar to "go take a hike!" or "leave me alone!"

#kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #KTAW Day 1 #KTAW Day 1: Culture #content: fanfic #lizzybeth1986

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shegxox · 2 years

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the beauty of language: french lessons. | chamber

in which: you admire your colleagues' language and wanted to learn it.

c.w: not proofread, other than that it's a chill chapter wih a '👀' at the end.

w.c: 1,653

a.n: this will be a mini-series with a...plot?? i think.. idk I'm just planning everything otw 💀 also, reader will be based on my oc so that the reader will at least have a character built around them. enjoy! ++ oc visual here

next ♡

WHEN you first came into the valorant headquarters and met everyone, you were pleasantly surprised at how diverse its members were. You even thought that maybe Brim was going to pick one or two agents from every country that there was in the world. It pleased you that you didn't have to worry about whatever accent that comes with your English because almost everyone had their own, and that somehow made you have this appreciation and admiration for other foreign languages.

It started with Chamber, his accent is pretty evident, and still, he sounds so elegant and rich. It was probably the first thing that attracted you to him (in an admiring way, of course), and one afternoon on a day off you caught him in an almost rare sight of lounging around the common area for his afternoon coffee. The man's usually either in missions, cooped up in his workshop, or somewhere around the base where the two of you just couldn't cross paths.

"Ah, bonjour mademoiselle!" Chamber called out in delight as he saw you passing by, and you gasped in surprise.

"Chamber, hello!" You smiled, approaching the entrance to the balcony that was overseeing the sea. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?"

The man's chest flutters at the sound of your voice. You were one of the people who he enjoys being with. Other than you being able to go along with his 'personality', You weren't as wary of him like the rest of the protocol, and you've expressed your genuine trust in him. It may have been a risky decision on your part– and he himself thought that you were too trusting, but he greatly appreciates it. Whenever you're around, he feels comfortable and warm inside.

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself when he noticed at least five rose buds subtly growing around your head the moment you saw him. He finds it fascinating how your feelings are somehow connected to your radiant abilities.

"I'm perfectly alright, ma chérie." He replied, "Still handsome and well dressed, no?"

You let out a short giggle to his reply. "Who else other than you?"

Chamber presented the empty chair next to him.

"Please, sit. Have a cup with me."

"Oooh, my pleasure." You took the offer and sat by his side. Chamber gracefully poured you a cup, and the scent of the coffee almost instantly hits your nose.

You took in a deep breath, "Mmm, that smells wonderful."

"Indeed it is." The man agreed. "Care for some treats?" Chamber motioned his hand to the tiered stand of mini cakes and tarts.

"Oui, oui." You answered playfully, making the man chuckle in amusement.

"Impeccable french you have there." He comments, handing you strawberry tart.

Perfect, you were eyeing that one.

"Well, I learned from the best." You winked.

"You're welcome." He replies smugly, and you smirked.

"Oh, I meant from Ratatouille."

Chamber huffed a laugh. "Ah, forgive me. Of course, who am I compared to a chef rat?"

You squinted your eyes at him playfully. "His name is Remy, you uncultured swine."

The two of you shared a hearty laugh before finally taking a sip of your coffee. Tasting the right amount of bitterness and a hint of sweetness in the drink.

"Ah, speaking of french." You set your cup down. "I was actually planning to learn it."

Chamber's left eyebrow quirked up in amusement, there was a glint of glee in his eyes.

"Oh, really now?"

"Yeah," you nod with a smile. "I'm intrigued by it. But mostly because whenever you talk in french, you sound so rich and lovely."

Chamber was slightly taken aback; that definitely fed his ego yet, at the same time, felt genuinely flattered. Don't get him wrong; this was not the first time someone complimented him (obviously), but he doesn't exactly know why he felt his heart skip a beat at your words. Maybe because you were so blunt about it most of the time that it catches him off guard.

"I wanna sound rich and lovely, too." You joked before taking a bite from your tart. "But seriously, your language is beautiful, and I would love to learn it."

Chamber gave you a charming smile. "Ma chèrie, you came to the right person!"

Your eyebrows shot upwards, giving him a look.

"Huh?"

". . .What do you mean, huh?"

Were you not practically asking him to teach you? Chamber thought, confused as well.

Your eyes widened, and a growing smile started to stretch the corners of your mouth.

"Wait... You can teach me??"

"Of course, I can." Chamber waved his hand mindlessly, furrowing his eyebrows. "Who else but me, no?"

"Oh," You laughed sheepishly. "I was thinking duolingo, but you'd be better!"

"Please," He scoffed a laugh. "The real deal is right here in front of you, give the owl a rest, yes?"

You gave him a chuckle, "I suppose you're right. But are you sure? I mean, I know you're a busy man and all, I don't want to take up your time and stuff."

Chamber shook his head

"Nonsense, ma chérie." He assured before saying in a flirty tone. "It would be nice to see your beauty more often, no?"

Your left eyebrow raised and you smirked. "Oh really now?"

"Do you not feel the same?" Chamber challenged, mirroring your expression, leaning over just a tad bit closer to you.

You hummed, looking straight into his eyes through his glasses before ever so bluntly saying,

"Well, I do miss seeing your face every now and then."

Chamber's jaw clenched, and his hand that was under the table gripped his knee hard, almost faltering. He pushed a smug smile on his face and forced out a laugh that almost seemed nervous.

"Well, there you have it then!" He could feel his cheeks getting hot. "When would you like to start?"

You smiled. "If you're not doing much today, would it be alright to start now?"

His gloved hand trailed over to yours, lifting it and gazing straight into your eyes.

"It'd be an honor to teach you, ma chérie."

Without breaking his gaze, he placed a kiss at the back of your hand.

You simply smiled in his direction, not at all fazed by his actions since you knew that's just how he is. Retracting your hand from his hold, you clapped once, feeling excited about your future lessons with the man.

"Wonderful! So how should we start?"

Chamber hummed thoughtfully, taking hold of a croissant on his plate.

"What are some words or phrases that you know so far?" He lifted his hand and pointed it in your direction, levelling the bread to your mouth. Subtly telling you to take a bite.

"Well, other than oui and bonjour I know. . ." You took a bite of the croissant, looking directly at the man.

"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?"

Chamber felt something crack within him as soon as he heard those words, the croissant in his hand fell on the table.

The poor man froze again for the second time.

Well, you definitely had the pronunciations right. . .but. . .

The man swallowed thickly.

". . . You do not know what that means do you?"

You let out a carefree laugh, completetlyignorant of its meaning.

"No idea. Just heard it from a song somewhere ."

Chamber mentally sighed in relief.

"Alright, well take that off your list for now." He cleared his throat, trying to regain his cool composure.

"What, why? What does it mean?"

"You will know soon."

"Just tell meee."

Chamber looked away, pushing his glasses up in position. "Learn it yourself on the way, ma chérie."

You gave him a confused look, taking note of his ears suddenly turning a shade of red. 'Is he okay?'

He suddenly turned and shot you a sharp look. "But don't go around saying those words to anyone, am I understood?"

"Oh, uh– yes. . . Sir?" Maybe the sentence that you said was something rude?

'Oh well.' You shrugged it off, you'll learn what it means soon anyway.

Chamber took a quick shot of his coffee before clearing his throat again.

"Now we'll start at the basics, you may learn on your own when I'm away but only with the material that I will give you, am I understood?"

"Oui!"

"That's a good girl."

- - - -

On the other side of headquarters, a team had just arrived from a two-week mission.

"Where's (y/n)?" A particular agent asked as soon as he stepped out of the Vulture. Both his arm and hands are full of souvenirs that he brought from the country where the mission took place. His left hand held a bag full of snacks and little trinkets, while his right arm cradled a big and round stuffed toy penguin.

"I believe she's in the common room," Sage replied to the man with a gentle smile.

The man returned a kind smile to Sage.

"Thank you."

The man didn't even bother putting his things down as he hurriedly went over to where you could be, gifts still tight in their hold.

He finally arrived at the door to the common area with the eagerness to see your face, but as he entered, he immediately catches your familiar form sitting and laughing.

Laughing with someone else– with Chamber.

"Gaia."

He calls out your agent name aloud and saw you whip your head in his direction. His chest tightened at the sight of your growing smile and delightfully took note of the roses that started to bloom on your head the moment you saw him.

"Sova!"

#valorant #valorant imagines #valorant x y/n #valorant x reader #valorant x you #valorant chamber #chamber x reader #vincent fabron #vincent fabron x reader #valorant chamber x reader #valorant sova #sova x reader #valorant sova x reader #valorant series #valorant gaia #gaia valorant

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penguinmaster9999 · 1 month

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Allright, it's about time I made one of these, huh?

howdy! I'm penguin, the mod of this blog. I got quite a few characters on this blog, but feel free to start any RPs you want with me. Just no sexual acts with my OCs, that's my only line.

speaking of, let's meet the crew!

Traveller

Traveller, or T, is my main OC I do RP with. he's a 5'4" man with a backpack, and severe trauma. he's 18, and he was originally a self insert! hes far from that nowadays, but there's still remnants of that!

Glitch

Glitch is Ts right hand man. he's not physical, hes a glitchy parasite made of black square particles. his outline is the same as Ts, since he doesn't really have a true form.

Hatred

Hatred is a pure manifestation of, you guessed it, Ts hatred. he likes entertaining, and is quite the actor! I won't reveal too much right now since I have plans for him~

Those are my main 3, but there's also the crew. as more of them get revealed, more entries will be added, in order of when they're revealed.

Engineer

Engie is Ts main researcher and arms dealer. he's a cyborg after an explosion that destroyed his main body. he's really smart, so don't piss him off!

Fallen

Not much is known about this goofball, but he has a fascination with knives, and is really fast.

Samurai

Purple armor, and a strange sword stronger than angelic steel. they show up sporadically, and are Ts best friend. they were killed during one of their adventures, and through a deal between T and his alastor, was resurrected. he's a bit psychotic becouse of that.

Sacrifice!Traveller

Given the name Zee, short for zelophehad, by noah, this one is a special story. he double died, sacrificing himself to kill Valentino, but after he died his soul went to husk. husk used some magic he learned from alastor to bring him back, but he can't speak, and doesn't remember much before his double death. he can turn himself into a naga like creature, becoming half snake, as well as full snake if he wishes, but other than that he's just a shadow child.

Penguin

This is literally just me, the mod. hi!

Mod Penguin

The one pulling the strings. I overlook my kingdom with glee at how much you care about my toys. it's a pleasure to be your storyteller.

PEOPLE I RP WITH: (Go check em out!)

Gabriel and Noah: @ask-the-archs

big bro asmodeus: @featheryhoe

Jewel, the one causing trouble: @blue-gem-overlord

Charlie, who desperately needs therapy: @charlie-morningstar666

big bro lucifer: @king--of--ducks

husk: @deadbeatbartender

gender neutral neice/nephew (aka nibling): @1asta1

the children (noxie is my fav): @velaz-kids

Leo, protector of noxie: @leo-velaz

Aspen, who needs a break desperately: @aspenvelaz

good friend and first man: @theoriginaldickmaster

Big bro's fiancé: @mcalastor

Big Sis Lute: @lute-head-exterminator

(if you don't want to be on this list, or aren't and want to be, just shoot me a DM! or an ask. Just find A way to grab my attention.)

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lawrites · 3 months

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Riddle to Solve

BTAS! Riddler x Named Female Reader

1.5k words: Reader hasn't seen Edward Nygma since they both lost their jobs at Competitron. Suddenly seeing him after two years forces a lot of unresolved feelings to come to the surface, for Eddie and Luna both. Did your feelings for each other matter then? Do they matter now?

This was made as a swap with an anonymous Discord friend <3. Their OC is named Luna, but this fic is first person and could be read as a "named" reader.

CW: suggestive thoughts from the rizzler, hurt/comfort, edward nygma being arrogant as per usual

“L-Luna?”

You turn, recognizing that voice almost instantly. “Eddie?”

The both of you stare at each other for a moment, almost making sure the other is real, before mirrored wide grins split your faces. The heart in your chest beats faster as you realize the expression is his genuine, real smile, the one only you could pull out of him. He's truly happy to see you.

Your bodies approach each other quickly, drawn like magnets. Your momentum almost makes you look like you are going in for a hug, your arms swinging forward…but you stop just shy of touching the other.

You both sit in silence for a moment, taking the other in up close. A slight blush makes its way onto your face, but you can't help it. He looks good. His ginger hair is more loose than it had been when she had last seen him at Competitron. Fluffier, more free…it makes your hands twitch with the want to bury themselves in the shining, copper locks. His face remains as handsome as ever, with his adorable button nose, but his clothes…

He always wore a striped shirt with suspenders when she had worked with him. Cute, but more apt for Wall Street than what you expected of him. This outfit…your mouth goes dry when you take it in.

A dark green sweater adorns his slight torso, loose on his body but tucked into tight grey slacks match his long overcoat. The lines of his clothes highlight his tall, lean body. He looks professional for the most part, aside from the purple driving gloves. You do your best to contain your thoughts about those before making eye contact with Ed once more. A feeling of satisfaction spreads through your body when you realize that his cheeks are reddening just as yours are.

Ed is embarrassed about his own blush, if he could be frank. It started when he caught you just as you were walking away, recognizing your shape from behind almost instantly and calling out to you. While he doesn't want to admit that that was his reasoning for recognizing you, can you blame him?

He had to wait behind you in enough queues, see you bent over enough desks in those tight skirts you wear, that he has an entire section of his mind dedicated to fantasies about your ass. Some days he had to actively keep himself from reaching out, winding his hands around you, and bringing you back against him just to feel that delicious curve. He kept it secret, of course, he did his best to keep things professional when you worked with each other.

But after the initial onslaught of familiar thoughts…Edward was blinded by the glow of your smiling face again as you turned, and that handily won out over anything else in his mind. Your gorgeous, dark hair was up in a ponytail today, shining in the sunlight and swinging behind you as you moved towards him.

He watched you adjust your glasses nervously with a blush after you stopped in front of him, and it filled his lonely heart with a glee he hasn't felt in more than a year. But he immediately chastises himself…he needs to do his best to keep distance from you. He still has plans he needs to fulfill, and he can't allow you to be involved. What if you were hurt, in the process? What if you saw what he's become in his exile?

The voice that you remember being full of mischief, arrogance, and, dare you say it, warmth suddenly sounds distant and aloof.

“Luna, it is…good to see you.”

Steadying yourself, you hold back your initial reaction to his presence and instead analyze his words, his tone, and his body language. If that's all he has to say to you, after years apart, after radio silence…then you refuse to give him any reaction he may want. Your tone mirrors his-professional.

“Yes, Mister Nygma, it is nice to see you again after so long.”

You see how he goes almost stiff when you call him Mister Nygma, his back straightening and his eyes turning dark before his face becomes impassive. But, instead of letting him respond, you continue after a beat of silence, curiosity at his presence winning out over pettiness.

“What brings you to Gotham?”

His previous demeanor relaxes a bit, and he almost looks…nervous.

“Oh! Well…I suppose I've always heard interesting whispers about this city. And with recent rumors I've been…drawn here for some reason. After everything that happened…”

He trails off, and you can tell his racing mind is reliving the trauma of losing it all in one day, just as you had. Competitron, as your former place of work, used to be everything to the both of you. Ed came up with all of the riddles, but you helped him with the art direction. Your mind would interpret his gorgeous thoughts into a visual reality, and the code you both worked on made it an actual reality, on screen at least.

But then the layoffs started. First it was a few lower level people…and then a few close coworkers. And then…suddenly, you walked in one day and were told to pack your bags. Years of working for them, for giving it all to make the Minotaur game, and they just brushed you away. You still find yourself frustrated and angry about it, even after getting a new job. The only credit you received was a footnote at the end of the game.

And Ed…well…it wasn't public news, but he gave Mockridge hell over both your sacking and the lack of royalties for your work. He was planning to sue them, for the both of you. And then…he was fired too.

You heard the news and tried to call him, but he was just gone. And you haven't seen him for two years until just now, when Competitron has been rumored to be moving to Gotham. The coincidence is too much to ignore.

“Edward…”

He seems to startle at your use of his full name, something that you usually only did during arguments or serious conversations.

“...I-I know that what Mockridge did to us hurt. I still have trouble getting over it, myself. But, don't let his heinous actions rule your life. I'm glad to see you, but if you're only here to harass our former boss-”

Ed stiffens again and cuts you off, “Well, I'm sorry that I can't get over that-that cretin taking credit for my work.” He spits out the words, moving closer to you almost in anger.

You glare up at him, furious, now, “You mean our work. If you try to take even that from me after I lost my job and my L-” you stop yourself from admitting the truth of what you had felt for him, then. He notices your slip, but doesn't comment. “-my best friend…” your eyes are full of tears now. Frustrated tears. Dejected tears. How could he not notice you when you are right in front of him? What has blinded him for two years so much that he hasn't even sent a letter?

“...then I don't think we have anything else to discuss. I wish you well, Edward Nygma. B-be kind to yourself.” And you turn, prepared to leave. Two years apparently haven't changed your feelings towards him, if your racing, broken heart is any indication, but you've now realized you wasted that time pining for him after seeing him now. He is only focused on himself and what he lost…and maybe he always was.

You are stopped, suddenly, from retreating by a gloved hand wrapping, gently, around your arm. “Luna…”

Chastising yourself for wasting even one more moment on someone who obviously won't even let you leave with your dignity, you freeze in place but don't turn. “I would prefer to go, Eddie.” You bite out the nickname that used to make him tease you, used to make him blush, even, just to get some petty revenge out of this horrid day.

The hand on your arm trembles, and it makes you pause. You had planned to shake your arm out of his grasp and leave, quickly, to go cry in your apartment…but then you hear his voice once more. Quietly, almost whispering, Edward Nygma says, “Please.”

You almost collapse hearing the syllables leave his mouth, and turn to see the man that uttered them. In only the few moments between you turning to leave and his plea, Eddie was a changed man. His face is pale, and his expression looks pained. Green eyes that were closed off and arrogant are now surprisingly open, shining with an expression you can't name.

“You did not deserve that reaction from me after all that we meant to each other. I'm sorry.”

Frankly? You are gobsmacked. Edward Nygma just apologized to you. At least he acknowledged and validated your feelings about his treatment of you…but it still feels like it isn't enough. “Eddie, I appreciate your apology, but I hope you can see that your behavior was not something I expect of a friend.”

You do end up wrenching your arm away from his grasp, making him wince. “If you want to come back into my life, after leaving me for two years-” your voice chokes out the last words, the reality of everything crashing in around you, “-and treat me like I was just a coworker, and not someone who you trusted, as I did you?”

A sniffle leaves you, trying to hold back your tears, “Then I would rather you save the honeyed, practiced words and just leave. I can't take you playing with my good will towards you, again.”

And as you are about to embarrass yourself and sob in front of him, emotionally confused, partly, but mainly sad…his arms bring you to him. You are enveloped in them. He keeps you there, for a moment. His steady breathing and calming, familiar scent ground you. And then, one of his gloved hands moves to the side of your head, gently leading you to look up at him, “No playing. No games. No riddles.”

His green eyes are shining, “I am truly sorry. The moment you turned, I was reminded of the last time I had to see you go, the pain that came with it. I-I initially tried to push you away because I do have secrets, Luna.”

You try to talk, but he cuts you off, “I can't tell you about them…not now. But I can't let you walk away, again, either.” His expression is torn, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes full of desperation for some sort of answer to his quandary.

Both of you are dancing around your feelings, for now. But…you can tell he does feel the same, truly, he must. You can't leave the man you love so desperately confused. Your hand reaches up, mirroring his hold on you and gently making him look down, “Then…let's just get some coffee together.”

His eyes are full of hope, gleaming with affection at your answer, “Do you still like it the same way?”

You chuckle, “Of course, I haven't changed much since you last saw me.” You blush, again, worried that standing still would make him lose interest in you, somehow.

He releases you, and you do the same to him, but he stays close. His eyes trace up and down your body, sticking to your chest for just a moment before meeting yours once more. “Oh I don't know about that…”

He chuckles, holding out his hand for you to take, a smirk adorning his face, “...you seem changed. More sure, more independent.”

You take his hand, and you begin walking together to the nearest cafe. He winks, “A most brilliant riddle for me to solve.”

#lawrites #riddler x reader #x reader #riddler #edward nygma #btas riddler #btas riddler x reader #is this...my first non plus size reader fic????#omg baby's first!!!#though this is more body neutral???#But EYE know what Luna looks like lol #batman rogues x reader #the riddler x reader

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targcrazies · 10 months

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Moonless, Dark Night. Pt. 1

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC!Strong (half Targaryen) Words: 3.2k+ Warnings: Violence and Graphic Descriptions, Emotional Distress, Mature (ish) themes, Mentions of Self-Harm and Su*cide, Adult Language, Incest.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

NOTE: I have written parts of this story before. However, I faced difficulty with linear storytelling. So, I'm trying something different. It will be shorter than I had originally planned, but better, perhaps. Hope you enjoy this. Let me know of any criticism you may or may not have, and I will surely appreciate knowing if you enjoy it. My Master's degree starts in less than a month, so I'd love to be done with this before that, lmao.

Have fun reading and thanks if you are!!

"Drip, drop, drip, drop.

Sansa listened carefully to ensure that no one had been following her. Her limbs trembled beneath her cape, her fingers frantic in the gloves. She knew well that her hair posed no threat, for it was not the silver of her husband’s. Yet, she had picked up the habit from her cousins, who shielded their silver manes whenever they desired concealment. In her eighteen years, she had never felt more like a Targaryen than she did then.

Drip, drip, drop, drip, drip, drop.

Part of her was relieved that only the droplets of water made the noises. She knew that Aemond kept her under relative scrutiny, especially since she refused him intimacy following the death of Lucerys Velaryon. “If you won’t let me near you, one of my white knights shall be here at all times.” However, he had forgotten her skills with crushed herbs and sedatives. Criston Cole had fallen gently to the ground beneath him. He was curled into a peaceful slumber, his chest heaved against the white that shielded him.

Verasys, her dragon, was kind. He was not impulsive, hot-blooded, or rash. He fed on what was given to him and only blew fire only on command. The beautiful dragon, with scales as violet as Sansa's eyes, breathed heavily in sleep when Sansa found him. Her lip trembled as she took out the keys to his steel chains. When she was done unlocking the beast, quite large for his age of only fifty-nine, she cooed him awake. He put his beak-like mouth under her chin, nuzzling gently.

“Verasys, my dear, you have to leave me behind,” she muttered in High Valyrian, tears making their way down her face like sweat. The dragon roared gently, but she shushed him. “If you stay back, they will make us commit the most heinous of crimes. They will make us kill our kin, our blood.” The dragon breathed out in anger through his nose, turning his face away, refusing to look at her. She walked to the other side, holding his face to hers. “You were born from the same clutch of eggs Syrax had sprouted from. Do you really want to fight your own sister, my dear?”

The dragon groaned in exasperation as Sansa began to weep. She used to rarely weep. “They killed my nephew,” she cried, uttering the word in relation to Lucerys- for what could have been well recognized- for the first time since the boy was born. She and Rhaenyra had made insinuations; her older half-brother, Harwin, would beam in glee whenever she played with Jace, looked after Luke, and tried to lull Joffrey to sleep.

She remembered the one time Jace addressed the abominable rumors of their bastardy to his mother, “I am a Targaryen through and through, like Sansa. Sansa also has black hair; no one calls her a bastard!” Rhaenyra laughed as she realized the concept of illegitimacy was lost on her young sons. She had explained eloquently that the black hair of the brothers was due to their grandmother, Rhaenys, whose mother was a Baratheon. “Sansa,” she gently pulled the girl closer to her, gripping her shoulders, “Has the black hair of the Strongs. She, just like the three of you, did not inherit the silver hair of the Targaryens from her mother.” Sansa’s heart leaped with joy. Many refused to acknowledge her mother’s Targaryen status due to her being a mere accident, something Prince Baelon regretted until his passing. Her grandmother, Viserra Targaryen, had intoxicated the Prince and done her deed when prancing around naked in his bedchamber did not work. Soon enough, she gave birth to their bastard, a pale-haired little girl she affectionately named Visenya as she passed. Visenya grew up in court, her older half-brothers being her only company.

When little Visenya turned seventeen, Widower Lyonel Strong joined the Red Keep with his sons. The man was fifteen years her senior, yet she was besotted by him. On her eighteenth birthday, she threw herself at her brother, the King’s feet, begging him to allow their union. Lord Strong, despite much hesitation, acquiesced, and the two were wed in a homely ceremony. Sansa was born after a stillborn, in 110 AD, a day after the birth of her husband, Aemond. It is said that Lady Strong had held onto her belly with one hand and supported the then Queen with the other as her Grace screamed and cried during her third labor. The moment the little boy’s cries were heard and he was laid onto his mother’s bosom, Lady Strong’s water gave way, and Sansa was born after a long, strenuous labor herself.

Lyonel was overjoyed, to say the least. His dear wife had named the child Sansa, a true name taken from the First Men. The King’s joy, however, was only second to his Hand’s. He held both the children in his arms. “They have the same eyes; it is uncanny,” he mused. “Aemond and Sansa. Must we betroth them, Lyonel?”

“If you insist, your Grace.” If it were some other time, Lyonel would have argued the futility of the said betrothal, how it built no new connections and produced no allies. However, at that moment, he was overcome with joy.

“They will make me kill my dearest Jace and my loveliest Joff, too, if we do not part. One day, perhaps, you will find your way to me again. Only when this has been dealt with. Until then, Verasys, you must be away. Fly, my boy, fly away.”

Verasys was not only her dragon; he also belonged to her mother. Her mother had passed shortly after the burning of Harrenhal, her frail health unable to bear the loss of her stepson, who was a dear friend, and her husband. Verasys was also one of the few belongings of her mother that had found their way to her.

She walked backward from the dragon. “Leave, my boy, fly away. This is your chance. Aegon has lost Riverlands entirely. What will follow next is the dance of the dragons. I want no part in it, and neither do you.”

The dragon looked at Sansa, his eyes glossing over her form. She shushed him again as he walked toward her, his mouth against her cheek. Verasys wiped away her tears, backed away from her, and gently flapped his wings. He was so gentle, so quiet, so sweet. Sansa knew that there would never be a dragon so calm, so very docile. Verasys isn’t one for war anyway, she told herself as she broke the chains with the dragonbone dagger that she received as a present on her wedding day from Aemond, despite knowing that Verasys could be resourceful upon need, could decimate anyone who could pose a threat to him or his Sansa. His protectiveness of even Aemond drew short, fluttered fires from Vhagar. It was Sansa who was not built for war.

THE NEXT MORNING was torturous. Aemond’s voice blasted through the entire Red Keep, his anger having scared away even the faultless birds. She stayed rooted in her chair, refusing to respond to his outburst. She refused to dignify his anger, she had done it enough before and had tired of it then.

“WHERE IS VERASYS? WHERE IS MY WIFE’S DRAGON? WHAT KIND OF TREACHERY IS THIS?” He refused to believe that the dragon left on his own accord, convinced that someone wilfully let him escape. “Why ask me? I am heartbroken by Verasys’s absence. How am I to know where he’s gone without me?” She spoke whenever inquired about the dragon’s absence. The Dowager Queen’s eyes shone like steel as she stared Sansa down. “Sansa, my sweet child, you mustn’t do anything that may put us at grave risk.”

“Your Grace, I do not know what you mean. Rather, I believe that what happened was for the best. Verasys wasn’t one for war. He’d have forfeited the moment Syrax would have flown near him. It is for the best, your Grace, that he left on his own accord.”

Aemond waited for his mother to depart before locking the gate of the chamber from the inside. “I do not know where your loyalties lie, my dear.”

“You accuse me of treason, my dear husband. That is unseemly and harsh of you.” Sansa trained her eyes on his, refusing to yield for fear of showing some weakness.

“I shan’t use that word, for what I assume to be treason is what you might consider loyalty.” He said, “I know of your regular consumption, Sansa. Or, I knew, I suppose.”

She knew what he meant, “I have never made a point for it to be discreet, dear husband. I am not giving birth to a child until this war has been dealt with.”

“War,” he spat, “This isn’t war; this is a defense against treason.” He sat down, facing her, knowing that another debate would ensue.

Her lips lifted in what he often called a “bitter smile.” Her anger and her sardonicism reflected in her gaze at once. “What’s defense and what’s treason here varies on perspective.”

“Aegon is the first-born son of my Father, your own uncle; he is the rightful heir.”

“The boy Uncle never once even mentioned as his heir? I won’t argue with you on who the rightful heir is. I just want you to remember that no “faction” is truly in the right here. None.” She hated herself for the partial lie she told, but she had to stay safe. Rhaenyra was her rightful Queen; she will always be. Her nephews, acknowledged by Laenor Velaryon, are her trueborn sons and her rightful successors. Her heart broke at the memory of Lucerys, at the thought of his beautiful face eaten in half.

“Why must you speak like a…” he lowered his voice and leaned closer to her face, “…a traitor?”

“You accuse me of treason again, my husband.”

“I only note the precarious implication of your rebuttals. This is no game, Sansa; this is-”

“Oh, yes, this is war. What do I, a woman, know of war? What an irony, given it is a woman you all are fighting against!”

Aemond sat back, his lips sealed tight. “I never said that dirty thing; you know it was Cole who said so.”

“And you associate yourself so closely with him, disregarding the harmful notions he poses.” She posited, “Being a freethinker, as you claim to be–”

“Oh dear wife, I believe we both can agree that you and I do not see eye to eye on something this grave. Yet, we choose to stay together, love each other. He is only a servant, as his duty is to serve.” His hand on the table had closed in a tight fist, “Let’s not argue the futility of unmatched opinions when you and I have plenty.” He mentioned 'love' in hopes of seeing her eyes soften, in hopes of irking something in her heart that once held his gaze in utmost adoration. The warmth had gone, the love was nowhere. When he looked into her eyes, he only felt cold, so unloved that it scared him.

“We do not.” Sansa was gritting her teeth by then, “You had once told me that were you to become King, you would want your eldest child to inherit the throne, be it a girl or a boy. That is a belief that could threaten Aegon and his lackeys against your support toward the throne, against me. We were never as shortsighted as our family here.”

“Sansa, my dear, do you not realize that Rhaenyra is not one of us?”

“She was never meant to be the enemy,” Sansa spoke quietly, almost under her breath, her hand covering her mouth coyly, “This is pure conspiracy succeeding over conciliation.”

There was a time, Aemond thought, when debates would lead them to bed and they’d make love. Things had changed. Lucerys’s death had left her incapacitated to feel any love toward him, even though he had emphatically repeated– like a prayer– that he never meant to kill him.

Every time he recalled having, tearfully and apologetically, informed her of the accident at the Rook's Nest; his body broke down to his knees.

“It matters little what you intended. What does matter here is what you have caused. Husband, you have waged war against Rhaenyra, against Uncle Daemon. May the Seven protect us all.” She spoke through venomous, angry tears, spitting all over him, “Uncle will never forgive this.” She had shaken her head with untenable vigour, walking away from him in pure dread, “And why should he? Would YOU have forgiven this? We deserve to burn. Poor Luke, oh poor, poor Luke. My dear ne- my Luke!”

When Aemond stepped closer to her, despite her backing away, wringing his hands, “I did not kill any of his children; they’re untouched, unharmed.” Her laughter echoed as a shriek, “You know him so little, it is dangerous to not know the man you have waged war against. You foolish, foolish man.”

He tried to hold her, fall to her feet, cry his apologies if that could calm her. She refused to even touch him, almost throwing herself out the window to evade him. He had a feeling, an instinctual irk, that she would deal with the news worse than anybody at the Red Keep. The Dowager Queen and the Hand chastised him for having murdered kin; Aegon had little to say but how conflicts such as these- almost always and without fail- produced corpses, and Helaena had blamed Aemond for procuring the most ominous out of thin air. Sansa, however, was ardently, hopelessly, fiercely grieving.

She, unlike her husband, remembered their days during childhood as happier times. Joffrey was too little and Helaena was always consumed in her own interests. The five of them used to play, practice sword-fighting, and have lessons together. After Rhaenyra left for Dragonstone, Sansa visited them on dragonback, every once in a while. She attended tourneys and had been beside Rhaenyra in all her birthings, except for the one where she had lost her little girl, her little Visenya. Sansa had grieved the death of a child not even half alive, crying and praying for the wellbeing of the soul in silence. Luke was so real; he was fourteen, a boy with his own likes and dislikes, his own quirks.

Before he knew it, she had begun to yell out the window, “Verasys, Verasys, come to me, Verasys. Take me away from this warmongering, foolish beast!” Aemond could have ripped his heart open, and it would have hurt less.

“Sansa, my love, what are you doing-” he could hear the dragon flapping his wings hard against the air; the dragon had broken the chains off himself to fly to Sansa, to respond to her cries.

“If you step any closer, I will JUMP from here, I will.” The Dowager Queen and the Hand were banging on their gate, pleading Aemond and Sansa to let them in. “I want to see none of you. I want to apologize to Rhaenyra, if my DEATH shall appease her, I will let her have it. Don’t you dare come closer, for I WILL JUMP!” Aemond did not dare stop her when she mounted the dragon and took off, barely secured in her place. The thought of her jumping to her death at his touch made his skin crawl, he found himself within he could hurt himself so bad that she'd love him again.

She returned two days later, having calmed down significantly. She handed them a treaty Rhaenyra had sent with her. They had the following demands:

Aemond the Kinslayer shall be excommunicated to Essos. Whether his wife, Lady Sansa Strong, decides to stay at the Red Keep or leave with him is up to her.

Ser Otto Hightower, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, Prince Aegon, and Princess Helaena, alongside Lord Jaehaerys, Lord Maelor, and Lady Jaehaera, shall depart for Oldtown within a fortnight.

The Red Keep, the Crown of Iron and Rubies of Aegon the Conqueror, and Blackfyre should all be returned to the rightful Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.

Refusing any of these claims, the scroll dictated, would lead to war. Aegon laughed, instructing that the scroll be thrown in the hearth.

The Dowager Queen had turned red upon reading the clauses, the Hand looked betrayed. “Have they reduced you to a raven?” Aegon asked, staring at his sisters-in-law, his cousin, in sheer disbelief.

“I did what I could for a mother who has lost her son. This is the least I could do. I have not agreed to these clauses, I only brought the scroll here.”

“Were you aware of the content of the scroll?” The Hand enquired, his voice and face both frightfully calm and cold.

“No, I was not. I was merely requested to hand this scroll to the Hand of the King.” Her eyes were transfixed straight ahead, staring nowhere, yet focused.

“How did you spend the last two days on Dragonstone?” Aemond was sitting on one of the steps to the Iron Throne, closer to the ground. Aegon now sat on the throne, Sansa grimaced at the thought of it alone. Aemond, on the other hand, had worried himself to death, having been advised against flying to Dragonstone himself, especially after word arrived right away that she was alright and needed time to sort out the demise of Lucerys Velaryon. That his arrival at Dragonstone will be equivalent to his waging direct warfare. Thus, when he finally spoke, his question sounded more like concern than an interrogation, so unlike the rest.

“We grieved, your Grace.” Her lilac eyes stared dead into his, her face contorting, ever so slightly, in disgust. Anyone who doesn’t know her well would not even notice. He was not one of them, unfortunately. He could have wept; he almost did. He felt like he had lost her forever. However much love, respect, and admiration she once had for him was gone.

It had been a week since, and she had somehow regained normalcy. While she was still cold, biting, uninviting; she was calmer, considerate even. She allowed no intimacy– something he hadn’t let his mother and grandsire know– because if it weren’t for the origin of her birth and her status as his wife, she’d have long been beheaded as a traitor. Her dragon having left did little to acquit her to his family. It was odd that she barely attempted to clear herself of any suspicion. It was almost as if she took the special treatment for granted. He’d have to remind himself every time he felt angry at her indifference that she was only half a Strong. Her grandparents were children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, and she was just as much a Targaryen as he was, if only not for her hair. The futility of such comparison was jarring, for she looked like a Targaryen through and through. She and Rhaenys Targaryen were similar in that sense; both fiery dragonriders with hair as dark as a cloudy, moonless night and eyes startlingly lilac.

He snapped himself out of his derailed trail of thoughts to find his wife by the window, watering the plant that she had brought back with her from Dragonstone. “Will you never admit, out loud, that I accidentally killed your nephew?”

She did not pause, did not look back, “You will not entrap me in your web of deceits, husband.” She could have scratched his other eye out, to avenge her nephew, but she chose not to. Oftentimes, those days, she’d have the urge to tell him that he was a petty, shallow half-man for never having gotten over the loss of an eye. People get through so much worse. But, she stopped herself. Every single time.

#game of thrones #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x cousin!reader #aemond targaryen x strong!reader #aemond x reader

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pinkskytwst · 1 year

Text

Octavinelle

Octatrio/Prefect (Yuu,MC,OC) Romantic Poly

One-sided Riddle/Prefect

SCHOOL UNITY: Heartslabyul

“This is workplace harassment, you know.”

Azul let out one of his dramatic gasps, gloved hand placed over his heart as if the Prefect had landed a mortal blow.

“How could you say such a thing, my pearl?” he asked with a liberal tone of offense that he had to internally fight to keep when their beloved human’s expression remained a very unimpressed and very dry glare. “I am a merfolk of my word and I would certainly never break a term of contract, especially for my dearest employee!”

“I never agreed to this.” They said pointedly, crossing their arms over their chest and refusing to cooperate with how Jade was attempting to take their measurements.

“Aa, but you also didn’t NOT agree to it.” Azul said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. “You see, angelfish, your work contract includes the requirement for the approved uniform to be worn each shift that you are to be paid for.”

“This isn’t the uniform! I already HAVE my uniform and it’s not…THIS!” they threw their hands up into the air in frustration.

“You do have a set of our common uniform, yes, but I have come up with a brilliant idea that will help us improve attendance and sales. For these special promotions the uniforms will be…unique.” He said cheerfully, clapping his hands together and ignoring the snickering from Floyd behind them.

“Koebi-chan is going to be even more adorable than usual!” he cackled from his place on the couch where he was flicking through various catalogues and fabric books. “I’ll have to squeeze you even more than normal to handle it!”

“Jade!?” they complained, tugging their arm away from the calmer tweel as he tried to measure their wrist and fingers. “Why are you okay with this? Isn’t it going to be a lot of work for you to make these things?”

“Perhaps,” he replied smoothly, though his eyes couldn’t hide the dark glee he was enjoying from seeing the prefect so flustered and defiant. “But I have found that sewing, while not my favorite hobby, does have it’s own sort of charm. Especially when I will have such a cute model.”

Azul couldn’t hide his chuckle when their lover groaned, dropping their head into their hands and trying to hide the faint blush on their cheeks. They had gotten somewhat used to the tweel’s form of flirting, but thankfully not completely. Thankful for the Octavinelle trio at least. Their blush really was lovely.

“Do not fret, my pearl, you will be compensated handsomely for your part in my sche-plans. If my projections are correct, you will be receiving a ten percent increase for the promotional shifts you work and if the outcome is greater then I will raise it accordingly.” He promised, knowing instantly that he had won them over.

Oh the stubborn human refused outright to let him take care of their living expenses – spouting some nonsense about not wanting the three to think they were with them for financial gain, as if Azul wasn’t willing to do it even if they were – but they wouldn’t argue against pay raises that were fair for work done.

The prefect’s shoulders sagged and they let their hands fall away to turn a pouting but resigned look up at him.

“Thirty percent.” They shot back.

“Fifteen.”

“Twenty-five and not a madol lower. I can see some of the sketches from here and if I’m going to be wearing that in front of the whole school then I’m going to get what I deserve.” They said stubbornly, not realizing that Azul had actually planned for at least forty percent going to the Prefect if he had to.

“Then it’s a deal, my dear.” He nearly purred, almost being able to feel the stacks of madols in his hands that he would be earning with this idea.

He shook their hand before leaning down to place a teasing kiss on the back and then spinning to all but skip to his desk.

“Be sure to run the designs by Vil, won’t you, Jade? He has quite an eye for these things you know and I’m sure he’ll simply ADORE what we have cooked up.”

“And that stalker of his will get the word out quicker than anything!” Floyd cackled.

“Arms out, angelfish.” Jade grinned.

The prefect groaned but gave in.

“Cater, really, there’s no need to pull.” Riddle frowned in consternation, tugging his wrist away from the overexcited ginger who couldn’t stop babbling about this ‘special promotion’ thing that Mostro Lounge had started advertising.

“Ya don’t understand! If we’re not early we won’t be able to find a seat! I can’t miss this kind of photo op! My likes are gonna be through the roof! I wonder if the Prefect will let me get a picture with them.” He rambled with a wide smile as he typed away on his phone at a speed that made Riddle’s mind boggle.

“You’re going to have to have to get behind us!” Ace cackled. “We’re their besties, ya know!”

“We should definitely take pictures since Sebek and Jack couldn’t come.” Deuce agreed with a nod, Grim hanging off his shoulder.

“Well I’m gonna order the biggest tuna dish ever!” the monster said happily, dreaming of the delicious food that was waiting for him.

“I wonder what the theme is going to be.” Epel said thoughtfully from between the two card soldiers. “Vill-senpai has really gotten into the planning once Jade stopped by a few weeks ago. He won’t tell me anything about it though and Rook just giggles and starts spouting poetry no one can understand.”

“Well, we won’t be staying long.” Riddle said firmly. “Midterms are in a few days and all of you need to stay focused on not falling behind.” He ignored the groans from the first years and Cater.

Trey just laughed as they passed through the mirror into Octavinelle dorm grounds and patted his friend on the shoulder.

“I’m sure they will do fine. This will be a good stress relief for everyone.” He said, trying to ease some of the housewarden’s annoyance at being dragged along.

Of course, he gave the excuse of needing to ensure that the others didn’t go overboard, but it was impossible to miss how he caved once he heard it involved their Ramshackle Prefect.

“Perhaps but-“

The group paused when they saw the entrance to the restaurant was decorated with roses and various displays that definitely gave off a ‘Heartslabyul’ vibe but with a distinct elegance that spoke of Azul’s influence.

“What is this ‘theme’ supposed to be?” Riddle questioned as Cater gasped and rushed forward through the other students in line to enter and began taking pictures both of the entrance and himself as well with them in the background.

Epel blinked and looked around in confusion as they entered, the Queendom of Hearts décor continuing on farther.

“I don’t know, Vil just said something about ‘school spirit’ and ‘loyalty’.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, the fliers the twins were passing out just said Heartslabyul gets a ten percent discount tonight on top of the ticket promotion.” Ace said, grinning as he looked around at the rather packed lounge – mostly by familiar red, white, and black uniforms.

“Oh hey! Jade-senpai!” Deuce said suddenly, waving his arm at the tall vice-housewarden.

The eelmer’s calm smile widened just a bit as he walked in their direction, giving a polite bow.

“Welcome to Mostro Lounge, Housewarden Riddle. We were hoping you would be joining us this evening. Azul was quite positive that you would enjoy yourself. Might I show you all to a table?” He said, looking quite different in the black suit, black striped shirt, and blood red tie and gloves. There was a single white rose in his lapel pocket.

Riddle gave the tall – TOO TALL! – eelmer a distrusting glare but gave in finally at Cater’s very insistent begging.

“Very well.” He sighed, shooting a harsher glare at Ace when the boy gave a little cheer and pumped his fist.

“So what’s all this about!?” Cater asked excitedly, holding up his phone to record Jade’s answer.

Jade chuckled smoothly as he led the group through the crowd of students towards a large table near the center of the room that had obviously been reserved for the Heartslabyul housewarden. The décor was a bit more elaborate without being gaudy and everything was set up to the Heartslabyul rules.

“Why, Azul wishes to give back to the school, of course.” He said, even pulling the chair at the end out for Riddle. “After so much has happened he’s wanted to strengthen our bonds as NCR students and help to share the diverse cultures of our dorms with all on campus. It really is quite a shame, after all, that there is so many interesting traditions and styles that the other houses only barely get a peek at.”

Riddle glared again but did take the seat offered, looking around the room and noticing that while there WERE many Heartslabyul students there were quite a lot from the other dorms as well, even a couple from Ignihyde who were congregating in a corner. While it wasn’t like the houses completely segregated themselves from each other, friendships across dorms were less common than among dormmates and clubs. Now, though, there were more students intermingling, particularly with the Heartslabyul students than normal. Azul’s plan was obviously working.

“I suppose…if it means that more students will be able to experience a piece of our traditions…then it is fine.” He finally conceded. “But I will have none of our Queen’s etiquette broken! They may not be under my purview but-“

“Fret not, Housewarden Riddle.” Jade assured him before the red head could work himself up into a lecture. “Azul has scoured your exhaustive collection of rules and made adjustments to both cutlery and the menu accordingly.”

Riddle glared, still not trusting the octomer in the slightest but had to give in when it really did seem like everything was being handled well and with respect.

“Very well.” He finally agreed, making Jade’s grin widen to show the sharp, shark-like teeth.

“Then please, enjoy yourselves and I will send your server right over.”

Trey sent Riddle a comforting smile as the other boys all began looking through the menus and chattered away at the options available. All had a Heartslabyul flare but were different enough to be a special treat for even those of the dorm.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, Riddle. It’s just dinner. It’s not like Azul is tricking us into a contract. We’ll even get to see…the…oh, my.”

Riddle blinked when Trey’s gaze moved past and settled on something behind him.

Expecting a trap of some king, Riddle snapped his head around.

Instantly his face burst into a brilliant crimson.

“Welcome to Mostro Lounge, everyone! I’ll be your server today so please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” The Prefect chirped.

Riddle wasn’t even capable of forming thoughts let alone respond.

“Whoa! What do they got you dressed up in?” Ace cackled, leaning around Deuce to take in their friend’s ‘uniform’.

“Whatever do you mean, Ace? This is the Queendom of Hearts, after all. Isn’t it only proper for the Queen to be served by his most loyal servant?” They smiled sweetly, one of the fluffy white rabbit ears peaking out of their hair flicking slightly.

Riddle almost swallowed his tongue.

“You’re the Queen’s right hand rabbit!” Cater cried in delight, jumping from his chair and zooming to their friend’s side to start taking pictures.

The Prefect only smiled and even did a few poses in the detailed uniform. Red and black puffed shorts that would have been utterly indecent in Riddle’s eyes if it wasn’t for the cream-colored tights pattered with dark red, lace detail along the thighs and card suit symbols trailing down the length of their legs to the black and gold heels. A cream, black and gold corset vest sat over a red silk shirt with a large cream bow around their neck. The tails of the shirt were cut specifically to frame the white bunny tail set at the base of their spine and twitched every now and then as the ears did – showing they were either magical or electronic.

And sitting in the middle of their bow was a rose that was brighter red than the rest of the outfit.

A red matching the exact shade of Riddle’s hair.

Riddle felt like his heart was going to break out of his chest when the Prefect turned their sparkling gaze and smile on him. WERE THEY WEARING LIPSTICK!?

“Since you are a VIP customer, Riddle-sama-“ Oh my sweet seven. “-I’ll be seeing to your every need. Please don’t hesitate to call on me whenever you like. I’m at your beck and call. Now, what would everyone like to start with for drinks?”

Riddle wasn’t going to survive this.

“You are an evil man, Azul.” The Prefect said when they dropped onto the couch in his office at the end of the night, throwing their legs into Jade’s lap with a groan. “And I want thirty-five percent.”

The octomer chuckled from his place at his desk, counting the stacks of madol that had flooded in that night with glee.

“Of course, my pearl. I should reward your acting skills, after all. You far exceeded my expectations.” He said, looking over to their lover as Jade gently removed the heels from their feet to set aside and began massaging their aching limbs.

The Prefect let out a soft moan that was far more distracting than they intended, and closed their eyes to relax and be pampered after their hard work. Jade’s fingers really were something else.

“Yeah, yeah, well don’t expect that level of schmoozing all the time.” They warned. “You’re just lucky that it’s fun to make Riddle-senpai blush so much.”

“Isn’t it!?” Floyd cackled as he skipped into the room, draping himself over the back of the couch and tugging their human up into an awkward but enthusiastic kiss before dropping them back on the pillows. “And don’t worry! I taught the catfish from Savanaclaw to keep his hands to himself.”

“Yes, I do apologize for that, my dear.” Jade said. “I knew that table was going to be difficult and I shouldn’t have sent you to them. It won’t happen again.”

The Prefect hoped that the guy still HAD hands.

“It’s fine.” They waved it off, repositioning themself better on the pillows. “I was expecting that to happen eventually.” They admitted.

There was a beat before Jade gave a low chuckle.

“Fufufu…I see, so that is why you requested the heals to be reinforced.”

“They are called ‘stiletto’ heels for a reason. No one enjoys having a shoe puncture through their foot.” They answered with a yawn.

Hearing the guy’s squeal had been pretty satisfying.

Jade must have thought so too with how his hands were wandering.

“Be that as it may, we will take steps for such incidents to be prevented in the future.” Azul assured them, his brow furrowing at the one memory of the night that was less than pleasing.

The Prefect just nodded with their eyes closed, knowing that their lovers would handle it even if they were perfectly capable of doing it themself.

“Just don’t forget my bonus.”

Azul couldn’t help but chuckle, watching as their human allowed Jade to maneuver them and divest them of the different pieces of the costume until they were only left in the silk shirt. He let his gaze trace over the lines and curves of their legs that still draped across Jade’s lap as the eelmer calmly folded each piece and set them aside.

Remembering how vicious their smile had been when they broke that brute’s foot.

Sometimes it was impossible for him not to imagine what their little angelfish would be like as a merfolk. How beautiful their fins would be…or tentacles. He loved them exactly as they were but it was such a shame that the chance for such a devastatingly being to be trapped on land.

But they wouldn’t be trapped forever.

Azul had plans for that as well.

Glancing down at the madol stacked around him and the piles of paperwork that he still needed to do, he allowed himself a chance to celebrate their success and swiftly gathered and locked everything in his vault before making his way over to the sofa and bending down to gather the Prefect in his arms.

They obligingly wrapped their arms around his neck, knowing that their weight was nothing to the octomer, and laid their head against his shoulder.

“If you’re scheming something, you’d better be ready to do all the work because I deserve a pillow princess night.” They said blandly, causing Floyd to cackle and jump to his feet.

“Koebi-chan is so cute when they get demanding.” He teased, grinning when the Prefect stuck their tongue out at him over Azul’s shoulder.

“Of course, dearest, anything you wish.” Azul smiled, not even bothering to act like they had to make deals anymore to get anything they wanted from him.

After all, there was only one contract that he was working to convince them to accepting in the future and there was still an empire he needed to build first.

Only the best for their angelfish.

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

Did Azul place Riddle's table in the middle of the Lounge so that it would maximize everyone's view of the Prefect?

Yes.

Is he jealous that practically the whole school has a crush on their Angelfish?

Also yes.

Will that stop him from taking advantage of that fact while also rubbing in how the Prefect was with them?

Not at all.

Hope you guys like it! Dedicated to my sis who thinks our octotrio works best with a little prefect right in the middle.

Once I get my AO3 page set up I'll cross post these so that they'll be easier to find.

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girlygguk · 1 year

Text

fame - jjk (one)

pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc.

a/n: first two chapters are 3rd person, rest of story will be first pov

story warnings ; smut, explicit language, violent & possibly triggering scenes.

chapter warnings ; explicit language

word count ; 1800+

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

📅 March 2016

📍 PARK ENTERTAINMENT Dance Practice Room

The hot and stuffy air clung to their sweat-covered skin, the large mirror that reflected their stressed and tired figures completely fogged. Ha-Joon fell to her knees when Han-na's phone finished spewing the rendition of Shinee's Replay the girls had recently recorded from its speaker. Looking down to her right, Aera fell to her butt, slinked her arms through Ha-Joon's, and wrapped them around her waist. Her head leaned against Joon's shoulder as they both caught their breath.

"You're doing so good, Joonie", Aera whispered, smushing a quick kiss against the younger's sweaty forehead.

The maknae was still shaking from fatigue, the five girls having practised non-stop in the humid room for almost four hours now. Aera's head never left her younger sister's shoulder, but her vision focused on their two eldest, Han-na and Asami.

Han-na was fidgeting with the settings on her portable speaker, trying hopelessly to fix it as it cut out during the first hour of practice. They then had to resort to just using the phone speaker and barely being able to hear the music over their loud footsteps and heavy breathing. Asami had her hoodie, which she hastily removed once the room's temperature became tepid, clutched in her hands, furiously wiping the large mirror displayed on the wall before them in an attempt to de-fog it.

"We need to eat, Unnie. The room will cool down while we're out of it. It's too fucking warm." Nali grumbled to Han-na from the corner of the room; her head slumped against the wall as she tried to use the tile to cool down her burning skin.

The four girls turned to stare at their leader while she angrily slammed her speaker down when her pursuit of fixing it failed. Using the tie she had on her wrist, she hastily threw her hair into a bun and clambered to her feet. "We've been invited to our first award show. This is important." The eldest blubbered with a shake of her head, her eyes foggy as she stood.

"A half-hour to regain our energy will do nothing but good, Unnie. We can't practice weakly, or we'll perform weakly." Aera chimed in, her hands squeezing tighter around Joon as she felt her tremble slightly in her arms.

"Half an hour." Han-na sighed, wiping the layer of sweat that gathered above her brows.

A quiet noise of glee echoed throughout the sweltering practice room, the members of Siren ascending to their feet and heading for the door. Aera released her hold on Joon and slowly rose to her feet. Grabbing the youngest's hands, she pulled her up with all the remaining strength she had, which was very minimal, and wrapped her arm around hers. The girls filed out of the room, leaving the door open to allow some cooled air to fill the space in their absence.

The chilly, fresh air smacked the members when they left the heat box, enveloping their skin and causing them to harmonise in ecstasy. As they made their way down the hallway of their company, they each stopped and parted ways momentarily to acquire their belongings from their dorms. Aera pulled Joon towards the end of the hall, getting to their dorm and releasing her from her hold to open the door. Walking over to their shared bed, Aera collapsed onto the mattress and stuffed her face into her pillow before releasing a shriek of distress.

Ha-Joon entered the room shortly after and delivered a soft whack to the elders behind. Shrieking for the second time, Aera whipped her head around to face Joon, eyes wide and foot ready to swing and retaliate.

"Get off our bed! You're sweaty, Unnie! So disgusting", Ha-Joon bellowed, quickly pulling her phone off the charger and grasping the half-empty water bottle on her bedside table before chugging the remaining liquid.

Aera rolled her eyes with a slight giggle, obliging and clambering off the bed. Doing the same, she grabbed her phone and the twenty-dollar bill she had shoved in a random trinket holder.

The girls left their dorm in snorts, Aera ruffling Ha-Joon's hair before hastily speeding up to their other members. "I have no energy; not fair!" So cried the maknae, slamming their doom door shut and jogging up to her sisters.

"The corner store is closed," Han-na huffed, phone in hand, as she scrolled through their area map to hunt for an open shop to find sustenance. They made their way to the company entrance, pushing through the heavy doors and into the cool night air.

"Hanjie's is open; they don't shut 'til late." Nali offered, basking in the refreshing temperature instead of the clammy practice room they escaped from.

"It'll take a while for our food to be prepared and then longer to eat. We still have to practice for a few more hours." Han-na cautioned, not bothering to disguise her worry about perfecting their performance.

"Unnie, if we don't eat, I. Will. Pass. Out." Ha-Joon wailed from the front of their group huddle. The elder girls were on the outer edges of the path; their maknae squished in the middle of the horde. Asami chuckled and brushed the stray strand of Joon's fringe that blew in the wind behind her ear as they walked.

"We're going to get laughed off that stage, and I don't want to hear a single peep out of any of you when we do." The leader retorted with a roll of her eyes, stuffing her phone in her pocket as the four younger women cheered in triumph.

Aera stole a glance at Han-na's phone before she tucked it away and discovered it was only half past 9. They had to be up and ready by 8 tomorrow morning for final show preparation, and knowing their leader, they would not be finishing practice until at least midnight. Aera wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was worried too. They had incorporated a dance break for her in their performance, and she was stressed.

Aera is confident in her abilities. She fell in love with dance at a young age, begging her parents to enroll her in dance classes and spending late nights in her bedroom learning the choreographies of her favourite artists' music for hours. In her teens, she had considered auditioning for multiple agencies as a backup dancer, thinking that's what she wanted to do with her life. However, it was the adrenaline she felt when the song hit the climax, and she felt the music seep into her bones that she knew she wanted to be more than a shadow in the back. She wanted to pursue the art and make a proper career out of it. She loves the attention, and she wants to succeed. She had concluded that her mind was simply fucking with her. If she loves the attention so much, why is the thought of her leading the dance break sending shivers down her sweat-covered back? Shaking the cloudy thoughts from her overthinking mind, Aera returned to earth and noticed they were arriving at Hanjie's SikDang.

The five girls flinched as they entered the restaurant, the warm heated air enveloping them as they filed through the door, almost as if the dance practice room had given them severe PTSD. "Annyeong-Haseyo!" They chimed in unison as they flocked to a large corner table, spreading out and scrambling for the menu.

Aera was seated on the double seater with Ha-Joon, their knees bumping in joy, their stomachs fluttering like they knew they were about to be filled. Leaning over Asami's shoulder, she glared at the menu she held like she had a vendetta against it.

"Why do you always look through the menu so fiercely, Era? You always get the same thing." Han-na cackled, doing the same action and reading over the food options.

Offended and appalled at being called out, Aera squinted daggers at the elder girl before huffing and leaning back against Ha-Joon's shoulder. "Spicy ramen hits every single time, and we're broke! I can't risk my happiness and what little money we have by trying a new dish and possibly not liking it." She grumbled, glancing up at Joon through her lashes from her position on her shoulder.

"Same thing, Joonie?" Aera queried at the youngest, that had her eyes shut and her head leaning against the wall behind them.

"Yes, please," Ha-Joon replied with a nod, her eyes closed, but her mouth still bore into a toothy smile to show her appreciation. Aera chuckled and tapped the maknae's belly before making a note to order the buy one get one half-priced special that included two bowls of spicy ramen.

After a few minutes, the girls finished placing their order with the woman who trotted to their table with a jug of water, glasses, and a pad to jot down their demands. Aera was on her second serving of drink before her phone vibrated on the chair she was sitting on. Reaching down, she unlocked the device and squinted at the notification blearing back at her. The icon of her brother illuminated the screen with a text saying how he hoped she was doing well and bidding her good night as he was probably about to turn in for the night. Smiling at her softie of a brother, she replied with an, "I miss you, I love you, and I'm okay. You better be studying hard", ending with a promise of video calling him soon.

She tucked her phone away, joining in the silly word game that her members were captivated by, her competitive side automatically taking over. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to win a pointless, rewardless word game. They played for a few rounds, Aera leading by two victories and Ha-Joon one, before they saw the woman who took their order waddling up with their meals. They all spewed thank-yous at the elder before taking their rightful plates. She placed the final two bowls onto the table before pointing at the dish on the left, saying it was the mildly spiced ramen and earning a thankful nod and praise from Aera.

Aera handed the less-spicy noodles to Joon, sliding the chopsticks to her along with some napkins. "Gamsahamnida, unnie." Ha-Joon cheered, wasting no time before digging into her meal with purpose. Aera smiled at her before doing the same and tucking into hers. The table was quiet, the hunger that the members were trying to exterminate getting rid of any want for conversation.

"So what I'm seeing is, the youngest are the smartest." Aera broke the silence, referring to their previous table game after finishing her mouthful of ramen. Siren erupted into laughter, Aera earning herself a slap on the arm from Asami, who almost spat her rice cake back into her bowl.

"Shut up and eat." Han-na laughed halfway through a mouthful of rice and kimchi.

Aera shrugged with a smirk, shoving more food into her mouth and enjoying the moment of relaxation before they returned to the room that would give hell a run for its money and practised for the rest of the night.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #bts jk #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook imagine

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leoniestarlee · 4 months

Text

Illyrian Assassin (16)

Pairing: Azriel x OC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: past trauma, slow burn

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

(let me know under this if you want to be on the tag list! I do post at random times and sometimes spam a few chapters within an hour, btw.)

Word still hadn’t come from the Summer Court the following morning, so Rhysand made good on his decision to bring us to the mortal realm.

Daisy and Willa would stay here with Mor and Amren, being cared for in the townhouse. It was agreed last night that I would join Rhys, Feyre, Cass, and Az to the mortal realm. During my absence, Amren decided she’ll try to figure out why Willa is having these weird dreams that are continuing to drain her. My poor sister was barely sleeping, and when she did, it never lasted long.

“What does one wear, exactly, in the human lands?” Mor said from where she sprawled across the foot of Feyre’s bed while I sat up against the headboard.

“Layers,” Feyre said, riffling through the clothes in her armoire for something the both of us could wear. I tried looking for something through my own clothes earlier, but she’d said she would just find me something instead. “They…cover everything up. The décolletage might be a little daring depending on the event, but…everything else gets hidden beneath skirts and petticoats and nonsense.”

“Sounds like the women are used to not having to run—or fight,” I said, picking at my nails. “I don’t remember it being that way five hundred years ago.”

“Even with the wall, the threat of faeries remained, so…surely practical clothes would have been necessary to run, to fight any that crept through. I wonder what changed,” Feyre countered, pulling out an ensemble of turquoise with accents of gold—rich, bright, regal for our approval.

Mor and I merely nodded, and she went on, “Nowadays, most women wed, bear children, and then plan their children’s marriages. Some of the poor might work in the fields, and a rare few are mercenaries or hired soldiers, but…the wealthier they are, the more restricted their freedoms and roles become. You’d think that money would buy you the ability to do whatever you pleased.”

“Some of the High Fae,” Mor said, pulling at an embroidered thread in the blanket, “are the same.”

Feyre slipped behind the dressing screen as I laid on my stomach beside Mor.

“In the Court of Nightmares,” Mor went on, that voice falling soft and a bit cold once more, “females are…prized. Our virginity is guarded, then sold off to the highest bidder—whatever male will be of the most advantage to our families. I was born stronger than anyone in my family. Even the males. And I couldn’t hide it, because they could smell it—the same way you can smell a High Lord’s Heir before he comes to power. The power leaves a mark, an…echo. When I was twelve, before I bled, I prayed it meant no male would take me as a wife, that I would escape what my elder cousins had endured: loveless, sometimes brutal, marriages.”

I looked at my best friend with pity and sadness as parts on that year flooded back into my mind.

“But then I began bleeding a few days after I turned seventeen. And the moment my first blood came, my power awoke in full force, and even that gods-damned mountain trembled around us. But instead of being horrified, every single ruling family in the Hewn City saw me as a prize mare. Saw that power and wanted it bred into their bloodline, over and over again.”

“What about your parents?” Feyre managed to ask.

“My family was beside themselves with glee. They could have their pick of an alliance with any of the other ruling families. My pleas for choice in the matter went unheard.”

“A bunch of pricks,” I mumbled.

“The rest of the story,” Mor said as Feyre emerged, holding out a pastel blue gown toward me, “is long, and awful, and I’ll tell you some other time. I came here to say I’m not going with you—to the mortal realm.”

“Because of how they treat women?” Feyre questioned as I thanked her for the dress and slipped behind the dressing screen.

“If that was the case, then I can assure you that Rhys wouldn’t let Rory anywhere near the realm,” Mor snorted as I laughed, changing out of my tunic and pants. “When the queens come, I will be there. I wish to see if I recognize any of my long-dead friends in their faces. But…I don’t think I would be able to…behave with any others.”

“Did Rhys tell you not to go?” Feyre said tightly as I slipped into the gown with more skirts than I’d ever worn.

How do they manage to walk in this?

“No,” Mor said, snorting. “He tried to convince me to come, actually. He said I was being ridiculous. But Cassian…he gets it. The two of us wore him down last night.”

Feyre’s brows rose as I snorted, walking back over to the bed with the gown on and restricting more movement than I’d like.

Mor shrugged at the unasked question in Feyre’s eyes. “Cassian and Rory helped Rhys get me out. Before he had the real rank to do so. For Rhys, getting caught would have been a mild punishment, perhaps a bit of social shunning. But Cassian and Rory…” She looked at me, taking my hand in hers. “They risked everything to make sure I stayed out of that court, especially Cass. And he laughs about it, but he believes he’s a low-born bastard, not worthy of his rank or life here. He has no idea that he’s worth more than any other male I met in that court—and outside of it. Him and Azriel, that is.”

Feyre opened her mouth, but the cloak chimed ten, meaning it was time to go.

I stood up as Mor let go of my hand.

“I’d like my sisters to meet you. Maybe not today. But if you ever feel like it…” Feyre said to Mor as I softly smiled between the two of them.

Mor’s mouth tightened and she blinked a few times.

Feyre went for the door but paused with her hand on the knob. “I’m sorry if I was not as welcoming to you as you were to me when I arrived at the Night Court. I was…I’m trying to learn how to adjust.”

But Mor hopped off the bed, opened the door for her, and said, “There are good days and hard days for me—even now. Don’t let the hard days win.”

“I think I prefer you better when you aren’t wearing mortal clothes,” Cassian mused at me as I leaned against the wall, looking up and down at his fighting leathers.

“I think you don’t know how to compliment a female,” I shot back with a sweet smile while adjusting the white coat around my shoulders.

Azriel snorted across from me, his shadows swirling up his arms. “Even after five hundred years, you both still act like legitimate siblings.”

“I swear they came from the same mother sometimes,” Rhys chimed in with a smirk on his lips.

I flipped them both off as we fell to a silence, waiting for Feyre to say something as she glanced around at us.

I took a step toward Azriel, knowing Rhys would winnow us two off the coast, right to the invisible line where the wall bisected our world. There was a tear in its magic about half a mile offshore—which we’d fly though.

He gave me a small smile that I retuned, but it quickly wiped off my face and I snapped my head to Feyre as she said, “I’ll fly with Azriel.”

Slowly, slightly baffled, I looked back to Az who held an apology in his eyes as he looked at me before merely bowing his head to Feyre, and said, “Of course.”

Cassian cringed, glancing between me and Az. The three males knew if I’d ever need to fly somewhere, it would be Azriel who took me. But now, he’s taking Feyre and I’ve got to be fine with that. I mean, I was fine with it, but I also didn’t like it.

“You drop me, and I swear I’ll cut your balls off,” I warned Cass, walking toward him.

“If I drop you, then it’s Willa and Daisy who’ll attack me,” he grumbled, scooping me into his arms as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Rhys laughed, grabbing Cass and then we were surrounded by black wind and the townhouse was gone. Blinding sunlight, and roaring wind surrounded us as Cassian plunged down, down—Then we tilted, shooting straight.

“I missed this,” I said, looking at my bastard brother as he chuckled.

Below, ahead, behind, the vast, blue sea stretched. Above, fortresses of clouds plodded along. I felt the wall as we swept through. Felt it lunge for me and then we were out. Cassian banked, veering toward the coastline, where Rhys was now sweeping over the land.

I stood between Cassian and Azriel as we stood behind Feyre—glamoured. The glamour didn’t keep out the damn cold though. I desperately rubbed my arms, trying to warm myself as Cassian chuckled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his body heat.

The door opened, and a merry-faced round housekeeper squinted at Feyre. “May I help…” The words trailed off as she looked closer at Feyre’s face.

“Oh, she knows for sure,” I whispered, pressing myself more into Cassian’s side.

“I’m here to see my family,” Feyre choked out.

“Your—your father is away on business, but your sisters…” She didn’t move. Her eyes darted around Feyre. No carriage, no horse. No footprints in the snow.

“We should have planned this better,” Rhys said to us, knowing the glamour keeps our voices hidden.

The older lady’s face blanched and I looked at Rhys, raising a brow. “You think?” I sarcastically retorted.

“Mrs. Laurent?”

I felt everyone stiffen at the sudden voice from the hall. Hell, even I stiffened.

Feyre backed away a step, making Rhys step forward. But I grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him back between me and Azriel.

“Are you insane?” I whisper-shouted at him. “If you comfort her now, then you might as well waltz in there and announce your presence.”

“I could easily wipe away any memory of us,” he stated.

I slapped him on the back of the head, sending him a disapproving look.

A mortal female’s face appeared over Mrs. Laurent’s round shoulder. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. Her golden-brown hair was half up, her pale skin creamy and flushed with color.

The mortal lifted a slender hand to her mouth as her body shook with a sob.

“Elain,” Feyre said hoarsely.

Footsteps on the sweeping stairs behind them, then—“Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room.”

The women merely gave Feyre a look that promised death if she harmed her sisters as she turned into the house, leaving Feyre before Elain, still quietly crying.

But Feyre took a step over the threshold and closed the door. None of us said a word until a minute passed and I exhaled.

“This should be fun,” I groaned. “I’m freezing my damn ass off out here though.”

“You’re an Illyrian,” Rhys deadpanned. “How are you cold?”

“When was the last time you stayed in those mountains?” I raised a brow at him, and he rolled his eyes as Az and Cass quietly chuckled at us.

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kaepop-trash · 2 years

Text

Milanese Holiday

I guess the name gives away the partial inspiration for this fic. This is late but I finished it in time for Couture Week(what I really wished to centre this plot around). Yes, I'm aware that Jaehyun didn't go for Milan fashion week, just a ready-to-wear show, but this is fiction and I'm going for the idea that has the most potential. Also tweaked some general details of how fashion week works. If there are any readers here interested in fashion, just look the other way. This is just a fun little fic.

This is very fragmented and it's intentional. I'm trying something new so I'm sorry if it feels clumsy. I know I could have made him an idol instead of an actor, but I took a vow years ago to never write idol aus.

—

Summary: Inserting oneself back into society after a year’s absence was tough enough. Doing it when you despised everything about it made the challenge borderline herculean. With a past she wanted so desperately to erase, she perhaps had no intention of catching the eye of one of the many celebrities that littered the streets during fashion week. But things have a way of working out and sometimes the most unexpected bump-ins yield the most magnificent outcome.

Warnings: Smut, OC is rude, Jaehyun has a degradation kink if you squint so he likes it, Hints of loser Jaehyun, Fingering, Dirty talking, Hint of asphyxiation, Mentions of privilege, Name Dropping Luxury Brands.

WC: 7.3k

(Y/N) couldn't help her amusement as she walked up to the full breakfast table. "What?" She asked the girls who looked at each other with absolute bewilderment. "I thought you'd be happy to see me." She announced, taking off her sunglasses once a waiter arrived with an extra chair for her. She kept the air of indifference, the one she’d carefully prepared for this week. Her smile was relaxed and she painstakingly crafted a stance that was not defensive. It seemed to work, the most meddlesome of the girls looked at each other with confused looks.

"We are." Chaeyong, the worst of them, was quick to speak, "We just didn't expect you to be here." She looked to the others but none made the move to speak up for her.

"Yeah, but I missed New York last year, you know? If I didn't come to Milan I'd have nothing to wear for the rest of the season." She answered with ease, having come up with all her responses on the flight.

Yunjin, a new face in the crowd, was the first to lean in towards her once she sat down, "The more the merrier obviously." She spoke with glee, "We're going for Chanel after breakfast. You should come along!" She told her. "Jen will be there and she always gets first pick."

(Y/N) smiled at the table, "No thanks. Chanel hasn't been doing it for me these past few seasons."

"Since you have your own company now, you could use some of their pieces, don’t you think." One of Chaeyong's friends told her, "Jen claims the power suits really make a difference."

"Well, unlike Jen, I don't need to dress like a man to let employees my know who’s in charge." (Y/N) shrugged, failing to hide the quirk of her lips when the table went silent. "I'm here for Valentino tomorrow obviously, maybe Dior too right after if I haven't had too much fun at the parties tomorrow." She informed them of her plans, an afterthought making her turn to the younger girl from before. "You can come, if you like."

Yunjin looked understandably caught off-guard, turning to give the table a nervous look over. It was easy to tell that it was the girl's first time at fashion week. It made (Y/N) almost feel bad for how unprepared she was. If she was considering the feelings of any of the women on the table, she had far too much to learn. But her same naivety also made her the weakest link, (Y/N) needed to survive this week.

It was precisely because it was her first time that the girl predictably nodded, "I'd love that so much, (Y/N). Especially Dior." She said with giddy delight.

(Y/N) smiled at the genuine gratitude on the girl’s face. If it was fake then she was impressed by the convincing act. She looked the girl over once with expert eyes.

"You have the body for Dior." She hummed, coming to a decision. "I'll tell you what." She looked up with her own genuine smile, "If you will volunteer to keep me in check at tonight’s afterparty then we can do Dior too." This time she didn't look to the other girls before nodding.

With a satisfied smile, (Y/N) stood up from the table. "It was nice catching up. Have fun at the show, girls." She waved at them, walking away without eating anything.

After walking around to catch up on some of the places she hadn't seen in a while, (Y/N) finally gave into her stomach. Having skipped breakfast for the sake of making an exit left her famished and she found herself crawling into the first café she spotted.

To say she was in a bad mood was an understatement. When she had learned the ways of the world she inhabited, (Y/N) had learned that Paris was for haute couture while New York had the best ready-to-wear lines. Milan had never fit into her carefully planned equation, so when she decided to come this time she knew that she would not be in friendly company. But after a terrible year, showing her face in public was her own small rebellion. Milan just happened to be the first show of this season.

Her mood had not been helped at all when she saw Chaeyong first thing in the morning. The thought was enough to make her frown as she stood in line to place an order.

She had been busy checking her emails on her phone for a while, looking up only when she realised that the line had abruptly stopped. With earphones in to avoid having to listen to the loud chatter in the cafe, she didn't hear the commotion.

At first her eyes met the barista on the other side of the counter, the boy's entertained smile growing wider when she did. Then when he turned, she saw the source of his amusement.

The girl who was at the top of the line had turned around to speak to the man behind her. Speaking through a hand on her mouth, she looked to be in shock as she asked the man for a picture.

The barista mumbled to the girl, even gesturing her to hurry but she was too enthralled to pick up on the sign. First giving the boy a confused look before turning to the man who (Y/N) still couldn't see.

"He's telling you to order or move out of the line." (Y/N) used her rudimentary understanding of Italian and related languages to make an educated guess. "We all have places to be." She tried not to sound too harsh, pointing behind her at all the people waiting.

The girl didn't move, pursing her lips and taking another infuriating moment before she pointed her phone at herself to take the picture with the guy.

The man turned to (Y/N) and she met his gaze, seeing his apologetic look only seemed to cement her irritation. So she did what she always did when her acquaintances started conversations she did not like— she dipped her head back down to her focus on her phone.

After several moments, she heard shuffling and looked up to see the girl finally gone. Once the man shuffled away, (Y/N) let out a sigh that made the barista laugh. It caught the man's attention as he retreated.

Once she finished placing her order she turned to look for a place to sit only to see the man waiting for his own order at the side.

He smiled at her politely, "I'm sorry about the hold up." He told her, looking away with a sheepish grimace.

"I'm not in a hurry to be anywhere and you weren't the person holding up the line." She responded, rather unwilling to have this conversation.

"Yes but I still feel responsible." He added with a little more insistence in his volume when she didn't turn to him.

On her part she just hummed, using this time to at least scan for a seat. "Why? Are you controlling her mind?" She asked absentmindedly. The man scoffed under his breath but didn’t answer the question.

"There is no place to sit. I already checked." He said instead, voice clipped. "Fashion week can get busy I guess."

This time she turned to look at him, her gaze immediately doing a valiant job at scanning this man. She eyed each item he wore, lips quirking in amusement.

"Yes it can." She told him, "Prada, I assume?" She questioned without any need for an answer. Even the little hat he wore on his head had the familiar triangle logo, it was like he had just walked off the ready-to-wear runway.

The thought made her look him over once again, this time looking at the man instead of his clothes. He could have easily walked off the runway, she concluded.

Meeting his gaze again, the man made no show of being discomfitted by her repeated scrutiny. She was almost impressed, then he opened his mouth.

"I'm Jaehyun, by the way." He told her, reaching a hand out.

"That's great." She told him, her foot itching to tap to channel her impatience— a habit even the most prestigious finishing school couldn't completely berate out of her. "If you don't mind, Mr. Jaehyun–" She said with a clumsy pause in between when she couldn’t decide what to call him.

"Just Jaehyun is fine." He interuppted with a leisurely smile.

She wasn't used to people just giving their first names. In her world, it was your family name that carried weight. The thought was enough to sour her already curdled mood a little further. But it almost made her put two and two together. The man must have been some kind of celebrity, those were the people who didn’t need their last name. He had the face for it for sure.

Her saving grace came in the form of her spotting a cup being placed on the counter.

"I think your order is done." She pointed, "And so is mine." She smiled when she saw the brioche she ordered arrive. Her stomach growled as if to remind her of why she needed to end this conversation.

So close to throwing all ounces of etiquette into the wind, she turned away from the man completely to reach for the steaming pastry wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

"It was nice meeting you," She said to be cordial, "Enjoy your first fashion week." She gave him a quick smile, turning with her coffee and bread to go enjoy it somewhere with a view.

"How do you know it's my first time?" He asked and this time she had to scoff audibly.

"Call it a hunch." She shrugged, unconsciously looking up to his hat one last time before making her way towards the exit with her smile still lingering.

(Y/N) had managed to spend all afternoon walking around the city. Milan, to her, was a fascinating place because it still held the quaint charm of a medium European town while also having a cosmopolitan flair. Fashion week meant the streets buzzed with tourists and locals alike. Like any city during fashion week, there was a tantalizing electricity in the air that never failed to enliven her. It was probably the same energy that kept her going all morning till the building heat of the afternoon forced her into Milan's famed shopping arcade.

As she left one of the many stores, she bumped into Yunjin after her Chanel show. When the girl asked (Y/N) if she wanted company shopping she accepted, happy to have some company on this dreadfully lonely trip. After shopping at a few stores, Yunjin suggested they go into the Prada store.

(Y/N) lingered on the ground floor while Yunjin went to look for clothes. While scanning the various sunglasses and other accessories, her gaze fell on a familiar hat. Mostly giving into curiosity, she walked towards the display. Eyeing all the variations of the same style, she concluded that the orange striped one was the least offensive out of them all. But her fingers inched towards the black one she'd already been acquainted with.

With an amused smile, she lifted the object of the wooden peg it hung on, turning to the nearest mirror and putting it on her head. That one particular hat seemed to be too large, falling over her eyes so she had to tilt her head back just to get a look.

"Ridiculous." She grinned at her reflection, finding humour in how out of place the accessory looked on her. Trying to adjust the angle did nothing and she had to laugh.

Being as silent as stores like this tended to be, (Y/N) jerked at the sound of a particularly loud gasp. When she turned to the source, who she saw instead made her fingers slip from the top of the hat so it came back down against her brows.

It was the man from the cafe earlier. She was sure because he was in the same outfit as before, including the ridiculous hat that was on his head— both their heads in this instance. A person walked up to him, once again asking for a picture. He smiled and nodded, saying something cordial. Briefly his gaze wandered only to look at her, eyes drawing up to her head as his lips split into a grin.

That was all she needed to nosedive towards the entrance, walking rapidly as her face seemed to be getting warmer and warmer.

"Miss!" An urgent voice made her stop, looking up to see the doorman give her a nervous look. She gave the man a questioning look and he turned to look at the top of her head.

"The hat, Miss." He pointed a gloved hand, looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Her face coloured a deeper shade of embarrassment, reaching up to take the thing off and hand it to the man. She was going to leave but another thought made her pause. "Could you please let the friend I came in with know that I left for the hotel? I'm not feeling too well." She told him and to her great relief he seemed to nod, not thinking of her to be a thief.

As she walked back to the hotel, she vowed that this would be her last fashion week in this city.

(Y/N) had walked into the after party the next evening after two good shows. Of course she saw things she liked for the coming season. But what was more important was that she achieved what she came here to do.

People saw her and they talked. Most, if not all, were probably speculative or unkind things that she was glad to not be in the earshot of. Irrespective, they knew that she wasn't hiding because she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Something she'd hopefully come to believe one of these days.

It was exhausting to have to put herself out there like this. Especially when these were the same people she felt the need to slink away from more than a year ago.

She had never liked this world. For all the perks of being wealthy, most other wealthy people had an innate need to be unpleasant. And after the year she had, she knew that they held no love for her either. Moments like this made her wish she could stay off the grid forever. But that wasn't one of the luxuries she could afford.

A tap on her shoulder distracted her from her thoughts. Before she could even turn around completely, she was embraced in a bone-crushing hug.

"You were the last person I expected to see here." Tiffany said with unprecedented glee in her voice. Pulling back she held (Y/N) at arm's length to look her over.

"Why is everyone acting like me, being in Italy is a crime?" She asked, too happy to see her childhood friend to have any real bite in her words.

Tiffany gave her a perplexed look before pursing her lips, "I don't really care about what your friends think." She stated, as straightforward as she had always been.

"They aren't my friends." (Y/N) added, practically snapping in defense at the word.

"But," She continued without care, "I just didn't think you'd be here after what happened." She winced, tiptoeing around the topic.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, "People get cheated on all the time. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but it can't be easy. Not when you had to find out through tabloids." She patted her arm. Tiffany was partially right, but not why she thought.

It wasn't easy to find out she was being cheated on so publically, it was the closest she'd ever come to killing a person in cold blood. It wasn't because she had ever really cared for Sehun, nonetheless loved him.

They were a couple of convenience. Sehun needed to prove to his grandfather that he was ready to be a man and take on responsibility for some aspects of their business. And (Y/N) needed to be accepted into the generational wealth circles so her family finally "made it".

When Sehun so publicly cheated on her, what he did was worse than breaking her heart. He tarnished her carefully curated reputation in minutes. And she could do nothing but fall off the face of the earth to recover.

"Anyway. I'm sorry for bringing this up. How have you been?" Tiffany cut through her thoughts.

"Same old. I'm slowly working on taking over the business, keeping busy. How are you? Still working at Max Mara?"

"Prada, for now. They wanted to reimagine their outerwear collection so I was offered the big bucks." She said with the pride of a self-made woman.

"So you're the reason they have so much leather in their collection this time." (Y/N) hummed, recalling the brief glance she caught at the store yesterday. The memory made her shift and adjust her posture, still a little mortified.

"Among other things. I assume you had a busy day today." Tiffany smiled, well acquainted with her adamant preferences. "Leaving tomorrow?"

"No, I'm not going home yet. I'm going to Sestri Levante from here, I could use the vacation."

"You do need the vacation." Tiffany agreed, "You have a resting scowl face now." She snorted when (Y/N) shoved at her lightly for the slight.

"That's how I get shit done at work. Nothing works better than a solid look of disapproval." She grinned when Tiffany laughed.

"I feel like you've been talking to my boss. Speaking of," She raised herself on her tiptoes to scan the room. "I need to go find him, he asked me to get him sparkling water half an hour ago. He says he feels left out when the people around him have glasses in their hands." She grimaced, dropping back to her height.

(Y/N) found the idea novel, "Sparkling water?" She looked around the room and laughed. "Your going to make the bartender do a double turn. Your boss doesn't drink?" She asked mostly because of how ludicrous the idea was to her.

Tiffany raised a brow, tapping her index finger against her nose with a knowing look.

"Oh, right. Of course." (Y/N) scoffed, "Well in that case don't keep the man waiting."

(Y/N) bumped into a few other people as she walked around the room, all of them people she only knew in passing. She tried to look for Tiffany a few times but the dim lights and crowd made it an impossible challenge.

She was almost relieved when she bumped into Yunjin, and to her credit the girl looked happy to see her. She was one of the better ones, (Y/N) had concluded after the past two days. She offered to introduce her to some of her friends who were around.

While grateful, (Y/N) quickly felt her age among the young people. While listening to their excited chatter and party plans after the week was over, (Y/N) thought she saw a familiar face in the crowd.

The second time she had the opening to look away from the circle, she was sure it was the actor from yesterday. He was at the party and talking to the PR director of Zegna. The director who looked pleased to be speaking to him.

(Y/N) knew her gaze was beginning to overstay its welcome, but it was hard to look away from him. It was like she was seeing the man with a renewed clarity when she observed him from the safety of a distance. The way his hair was styled, with a deliberate strand loose from his pushed back locks, and the lopsided grin that showed off his dimples, were all things she was suddenly taking a moment to appreciate. She blamed the champagne bubbling in her stomach.

The nail on her index finger tapped against her glass, eyes still in no hurry to look away. Then he turned to look and suddenly her gaze did find a semblance of shame, snapping back to the conversation to feign interest.

She ignored the burn that flushed down her neck to her chest upon being caught, blaming it on the champagne as well. The flimsy excuse did not ease her very real embarrassment though. She had to excuse herself to get a well-earned drink of water.

While gulping down the water with her elbow still leaned against the bar, the sound of approaching footsteps didn't escape her notice. Once her bottle was empty, she lowered her head, having nowhere to hide.

"I never caught your name." The actor asked with an affable smile.

"I never gave it to you." She spoke, one foot pointed to an escape already.

"I'm Jaehyun." He said with a grin that made her stop to really see his face. It was tragic. He was even more attractive when his attention was on her.

"You mentioned that the other day." She responded.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember."

"I didn't." She smiled, almost indulging in the way his smile faltered momentarily.

Jaehyun took a step closer, the proximity intimate enough for her to get a whiff of his perfume, like linen and ripe lemons. "I think your friend there is looking at you." He pointed his gaze behind her.

She took the opportunity to turn away from him, seeing Yunjin looking towards them. (Y/N) smiled, "I'll wager that she's actually looking at you." She stated, tilting her head to observe him from the corner of his gaze.

Irrespective of who she was looking at, the act reminded (Y/N) that she could not be seen with this man. She could already hear the whispers that would go around. How people would assume that her fraternising with some celebrity was revenge for her ex doing the same a year ago. (Y/N) had cultivated a thick skin over the years, but being called a hypocrite was something she could not bear.

"I should go see in case she wants something." She explained, telling herself that leaving unannounced would have been the better choice.

She stepped away quickly, breath catching in her throat when his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Wait–" He said urgently. She turned around, brows furrowed in a way that made her look irate. "Sorry." He dropped her hand immediately like it burned him. "I just wanted to know your name." He fumbled over his words, looking away from her gaze to the floor.

She had met celebrities of all ranges of importance before. But never one that was hesitant, not in the genuine way that the one in front of her seemed to be.

"(Y/N)." She caved, too distracted by the flush in his cheeks to realise that she probably shouldn't have. To avoid mulling over it, she made a swift escape. Only at a distance did she exhale.

Despite the curiosity in Yunjin's eyes, she didn't ask (Y/N) anything about Jaehyun. A part of her wanted her to, just so she could squash any rumours at their roots. The other part, the one reaching for another glass of champagne, wanted to hold off. Just in case.

She had managed to engage Yunjin in a conversation about the skiing trip with her family that she had lined up right after this week. In between the conversation, one of the boys Yunjin had introduced earlier came up to join in. His first few interruptions of the girl's excited narration of her plans could be brushed off as wanting to be included. The seventh time he interrupted Yunjin, (Y/N) felt her patience frizzle away.

"Do you part-time as a ski instructor?" She asked, her frown in full display. The boy smirked in a way that only furthered her irritation.

"I've just been skiing on those slopes every summer since I was born. It's just some friendly advice." He shrugged.

"What a sight that must have been. An infant on ski blades just cruising down." (Y/N) shrugged back, using the same tone he did when speaking to her. Yunjin snorted, bringing her glass up to drink in an effort to distract from it.

The boy frowned, "No, that wasn't what I meant." He huffed under his breath, his pedigree fighting hard to maintain his facade.

"Yunjin has been skiing since she was a toddler, weren't you?" She looked away from the guy before he could clarify himself further. "You can do it with your eyes closed, if I recall correctly." She pointed her glass at her.

Yunjin didn't say anything, but her smile was a grateful one for the compliment.

"All I meant to say was–" He tried to add. (Y/N) put all of her acquired pedigree into not rolling her eyes, instead compromising by just making an excuse to free both of them from any further of the boy's words.

Her social sabbatical had made her forget how despicable some of these people could be. Coming back to this world felt less like riding a bike and more like being strapped to the hood of a car going at maximum speed.

The whiplash made her take a step aside, weaving through the crowds to find a moment to take a much needed breath. She tried looking for Tiffany to have an excuse to go to the after-afterparties the staff usually had. They were much more fun and with more strangers who didn't know her. But after a quick round she surmised that her friend had probably already left.

Considering it to be a sign from the heavens, (Y/N) thought it was a good time for her to go back to the hotel. Her feet ached in her new heels and she decided to stick to the very periphery of the room to make her walk across to the entrance as quickly as possible.

While crossing a line of low sofas, she noticed Jung Jaehyun again.

"No more autographs to sign?" She spoke before she could really think about it. The words were probably sounded ruder than she wanted them to be, and she wondered why she desired his attention at all. Especially because she was ready to finally finish this awful trip.

Jaehyun looked up and even in the dim lights, she could see the flush on his cheeks and the daze in his eyes.

He gave her a tipsy smile, "I've clocked out for the day. Thankfully, everybody here is too famous or affluent to really ask." He didn't sound at all sarcastic, truly grateful in fact.

"You're the first celebrity I've met who doesn't like attention." She scoffed.

"Of course I like attention." He gave her a deeply earnest look, something she had no experience to be prepared for. "I'm an actor. We all love attention, otherwise we wouldn't put ourselves out there for an applause. I just don't need other people to tell me my worth."

When he finally looked away, she felt herself let out her bated breath. His words were just so honest, without motive or pretense. It left her feeling out of depth and made her oncoming words downright stupid.

"So you're still in the 'firsts' category celebrities for me." She scoffed, trying to mask how deeply uncomfortable she felt by making a joke at his expense.

"I'm honoured." The words were clipped, "But I'm not a celebrity. I'm just an actor. At least I hope so." He looked to his shoes— Prada, like the rest of his outfit.

"Do they make you dress like a display mannequin or is that a choice?" She asked, "Don't mind me asking."

Jaehyun grinned and the gesture filled her with culpable relief. Whatever moment she'd caught him in seemed to be passing.

"It's an implied condition mostly. They need to show off their collection." He tugged at the turtleneck collar, the thing in no way comfortable in the middle of a continent wide heatwave.

"So a mannequin." She crossed her arms, turning to face him but still keeping her distance out of decency. And because seeing him from a distance was the easiest way to appreciate his features.

"Yes, I guess that's what it is." He nodded, a small laugh of surrender leaving his lips.

"It's a nice sweater." She added. Her hand raised, stopping when she realised it was to run her fingers over the material, a conditioned habit when she looked at clothes. Jaehyun caught the way she closed her fist, retreating her hands back to her side.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked, looking up with steely resolve.

The way he looked at her made her throat go dry. Or maybe it was the champagne. She wasn't sure, but it wasn't like it mattered. Whether she needed to get away from him or needed a glass of water, she knew she had to walk away.

"Going to Sestri Levante." She gave him a clipped smile, "It's a small town outsi–"

"I know what it is, (Y/N)." He interjected, standing up.

She should have wondered if she'd offended the man. Instead she replayed the way her name sounded on his tongue.

"Right." She nodded, looking away from his intense gaze, her voice losing any bite in the face of confrontation. "I'm well overdue on a vacation."

He didn't speak and though the silence barely stretched, she looked up to him. He flexed his jaw when she did, clearly a little offended. "I hope you have fun."

"I'll try my best."

"What are you doing now?" He asked next, a loaded question with layers of possibilities. Maybe it was the champagne, or the way he looked at her, but she decided to pick the possibility that was perhaps the most risky.

"Why don't you tell me?"

(Y/N) bit down on her bottom lip when he pressed her back against the marble wall, the low back of her dress only making the cold stone feel worse. He pressed himself closer to her next.

The cloakroom, as she had expected, was unmanned and empty in peak summer. It was decidedly the perfect place to take in the way Jaehyun currently looked at her.

Close up, he was somehow more gorgeous than she previously allowed herself to believe. The pursed smile on his lips kept the ghost of his dimples embedded in his cheeks, his eyes dreamy yet still vigilant as they observed her right back.

"I thought the hat from the afternoon was a bad personal decision." She tried to curb her smile, looking up at the smug grin that was forming on his lips, "But now I know that the mistake actually happened whenever you decide this haircut was right for you." She dared to card her fingers into his hair, holding the strands in between with a playful smile on her lips.

He said nothing in response at first, hand coming up to place over hers. His thumb brushed over her knuckles gently before he wrapped his fingers over her entire hand.

"So honest, (Y/N). Tell me, are you the shy kind or are you just waiting for me to do something?" His words snapped her out of her thoughts. When she looked to him, he wasn't looking at her eyes but mirroring her gaze instead. Her gaze that was, she only just realised, focused on her lips.

"Do what?" She couldn't help the way her lips twitched, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he looked up with a raise of his brow that dared her to laugh.

"You haven't shied away from most of the things you say with so much disregard. So I assume you're telling yourself that it'll be easier for you to rationalise this later if you don't say it."

This time (Y/N) wasn't smiling, a little too caught off-guard by the surgical accuracy of his assessment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I thought you were interested in knowing more about Sestri Levante." She bit back a smile, "It's a quiet and quaint town."

Jaehyun smiled and this time she let herself admit without condition that he was an irresistibly attractive man.

"Sounds like a boring place for a city girl like you." He mused, "But I'm sure you will have company to entertain you."

(Y/N)'s head rested against the wall when Jaehyun began to trace his fingers up her thigh. Each inch higher made her breath hitch higher too, the reaction no doubt being the thing that made him grin with so much pleasure.

"I'm the best company I can have." She answered, "No need to pretend to be anything else when I'm not around her." Her words, despite being honest, were out of focus.

"That's something you and I have in common, then." His lips brushed over her cheeks.

(Y/N) thought she felt the room spinning as Jaehyun lifted her onto the table beside them. She gasped at the sudden action, a giggle leaving her the next moment from her shock.

"Is that why you were trying it on at the store?" He raised a brow. The words were unexpected and he seemed to catch her confusion. "The bucket hat. I saw you try it on. Just wondering if you're looking to make a bad personal decision, too." His fingers slid up her knees.

"I was being adventurous." She huffed, already being too breathless to be proper. "Something you should hurry up with. I'm a very impatient woman." She looked at him through dropping lids.

"I've heard that most rich girls like you are." He scoffed. She wanted to respond immediately but she was distracted by his fingers. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder as he began to pull her dress higher.

"Rich girls like me usually don't have to cajole men, you see. So we can say what we really want to." She lied, not really focused on her own words. Not when she felt his nails brush against the thin lace of her panties.

That was enough to shut her up, no longer interested in keeping up any charade or invisible dance. His fingers teased her with practised proficiency, something that became easy to give into. Slowly her mind sank into a thick feeling like she'd been dipped into honey. With each stroke her jaw only fell lower, lips parting further.

She became so enraptured that when he slowed down, an involuntary whine of protest left her. It made her eyes shoot open, meeting Jaehyun's wide-eyed shock that turned into smug victory shortly after.

"Are you usually this quiet when someone is finger banging you or are you that afraid of being seen with me?" He asked, pressing his thumb against her clit like he was on a path of vengeance. "Just imagine the headlines, (Y/N)." A particularly devious curl of his fingers made her groan, head falling back as her teeth clenched down tighter on her lips. "Spoiled little heiress spotted with some actor."

The words made her spine flinch in indignation, eyes forcing open to look at him. With a searing glare, she dragged her thumb down from his shoulder, pressing the pad down on the hollow of his throat till he choked on his own breath.

"I'm a lot of things," She gasped as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her, "But I'm not spoiled." She spoke through gritted teeth, letting out her breath when he was out till his nails, the blunt tips scratching right at her entrance. "My parents had nothing till I was twelve. Something my peers won't ever let me forget. So I'm not going to sit here and listen to some pretty face no-name actor tell me about privilege. Not while he's getting his Prada sleeves soaked with my cunt." She looked down, eyeing the dark patch on the material that had been rubbing against her all this time.

When she looked up, he was watching her with a furrow in her brows. A part of her was suddenly nervous that he'd stop and despite all the efforts she made to remind herself that she needed to walk out with her dignity, that part seemed to be getting louder.

"I want to fuck you so bad." He groaned, his cheeks turning pink from his own admission. Her chest erupted into a fit, not prepared for the dichotomy between his audacious confession and his shy blush.

Before she could look away, he slammed her fingers right back into her. The unexpected jolt made a wretched moan reverberate off her tongue. She leaned over to bite down on his shoulder, resorting to clench harder and harder as she felt her orgasm building with each stroke against her walls.

"I want to fuck you till you're screaming." He groaned into her ear, the tell tale strain of pain in his voice from her bite. "Till you've worn your vocal chords into the shape of my name. So you always remember it." He seemed to be spurring himself on, doing far worse to her. The groan of his words against the shell of her ear was enough to send her reeling into an unexpected orgasm. She tasted the salty tang of what she could only assume was his sweat, keeping her grip as her tongue formed a silent call of exactly what he wanted.

But she held onto the word harder than her teeth did his flesh, and soon enough she was put out of her agony. The high wore off and her jaw went slack, an immensely satisfying wince coming from him.

"That's too bad," She spoke between laboured gasps, "Because it's time for me to leave." Her fingers circled his wrist, pulling him out herself. She let the whimper fall from his lips as a consolation prize. "I have somewhere I need to be." She added, quickly regretting it. But she didn't need to explain herself to him, so he didn’t clarify that her pressing commitment was to her bed.

Jaehyun just looked at her with the same furrowed brows from before, ones that she almost mistook for anger. Then he nodded, taking a step back to retreat from between her thighs, letting her close her legs.

The quick retreat made her jaw clench but she let that ridiculous reaction pass with the excuse of her ego.

"Another party?" He tried to be coy with the veiled inquiry. She didn't answer him, instead jumping off her perch and pulling her dress back down.

"Enjoy your week." She spoke to the floor, not looking at him once she felt put together again. "This was fun." She felt the need to add, catching a glimpse of his shoulders slumping. She walked away before she gave into any other compulsion, making a streamlined exit right before the party got wild.

(Y/N) hadn't slept properly all night. At one point she left a hasty text to Tiffany between tossing and turning and promptly fell asleep at the crack of dawn.

Her deafening ringtone dragged her out of her pleasant dreams. Reaching for her phone, she first noted that it was noon, and then that Tiffany was calling her.

"Of course I can get you a seat at the show!" Her friend's chirpy voice after undoubtedly her third coffee of the morning, made (Y/N) wince.

Her elbows wobbled from holding her weight up and she rolled over. "What are you talking about?" She questioned, eyes still squinted and adjusting to the midday sun coming through the window.

Tiffany laughed like she'd just heard an incredible joke. "Oh come on, there's no need to be shy, I got your text last night. You know I've got your back. You can come for the show today. If I can't squeeze you in, you can be backstage with me."

While Tiffany spoke, (Y/N) switched to speaker so she could dig through her phone. Eventually she found the message in question, a simple and short 'I want to come for Prada show.', sounding almost like a childish tantrum. She groaned, trying to recall what her thought process had been when she sent that text.

"If you're backstage, I can introduce you to some models." Tiffany spoke with a suggestive sing-song, the implication making (Y/N) scoff.

"What time should I be there?" She sighed, putting her arm over her eyes.

She walked into the venue feeling a little uneasy. The moment she spotted Jaehyun, her first instinct was to apologise. But it felt so silly to do so that the words never formed on her tongue. Instead she watched him conduct a gallant performance. He posed for photographs with some of the other front row attendees, answered questions and in general looked very much pleased and amiable.

It made her think of one of the offhanded comments he made last evening. It explained how he never seemed to take anything she said to him to heart, instead taking it in stride.

Not letting other people define your worth seemed to be the best advice she'd gotten in a while, intentional or not.

Once she saw the sliver of an opening, right after the show ended, (Y/N) found her feet leading to him. The hasty decision to come to the event hours before her departure was to see him after all.

"Do I need to stand in line and take a picture?" She questioned. Jaehyun turned to her, truly looking like she was the last person he expected to see. She understood the shock, this was the last place she expected to be. But as his shock dissipated into a warm smile, she reminded herself that it was expected decisions that had yielded the worst outcomes for her. It was time for a change.

"If you want. I also give autographs." He grinned, taking a small step closer to her.

"I don't have paper. Want to sign my tit with lipstick like a rockstar?" Her brows lifted, teasing him with the proposition.

Jaehyun laughed, a deep sound with a lovely melody. "Only if you buy me dinner first."

"I can do that. How about tonight? There's a restaurant right on the beach that makes gnocchi that melts in your mouth."

"Beach?" His brows dipped in mild confusion, smile still unfaltering.

"Sestri Levante is a beach town, I thought you knew."

"I do."

Her heart hammered a little from the sheer embarrassment of forming her next words, "Come with me." Her lips parted to take in a bated breath, light headed from her massive leap of faith. "You can refuse, but you'll be missing the best gnocchi you'll ever have." She tried, the joke failing to ease either of their state— his brows remained furrowed and her heart continued to sprint. "Or if you have prior commitments of course. Not everyone can just up and leave their jobs, I know." She began to ramble, she noted. A nervous habit that still reared its head once in a while despite all her efforts to quell it.

"I couldn't imagine living with that regret." He spoke after several excruciating moments, "You've managed to make a solid case." His entire face turned pink, an almost endearing sight after the past few days.

"It's something I'm known to do." She shrugged.

"Tonight?" He asked, she nodded with a tug to her bottom lip. He grinned, "(Y/N)?" He questioned, lips lifting higher when she swallowed nervously and hummed. "What are you doing till then?"

"Starting our vacation, I hope." Her eyes glint with mischief, mirroring his grin. "My room has a tub with a view."

Jaehyun's brows lifted for a moment, cheeks turning deep red this time from her bold proposition.

Cute cute cute cute cute. So cute.

The passing concern in his gaze brought her attention back to the present. He put on a smile but this time it didn't reach his eyes.

"Why don't you go on now, I'll catch up with you later. There are cameras everywhere." He spoke with a faltering smile and a sense of duty.

"I don't care, Jaehyun. Come with me now." She sounded sure of her words.

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