#i should socialize more on here ahh i never know who to tag ;;

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmrthomassmut #thomastmrsmut #thomas tmr

[tiny-tigers]

Ahh not to worry! I saw a few (didn't see him) but it didn't look like a proper graduation ball... 👀 there were girls in trainers?? 🥴😳

Ahh cute dogs!! Didn't know about the Papa Steward dog breeding thing! I do know they go shooting which is 🥴🥴🥴😢 (haven't seen Fred do that yet thankfully...)

You're right! Jack doesn't seem to do any big purchases (bar holidays) never noticed that! (clever x2) 😆 didn't notice the lisp either! 😅

This video thing is actually crazy now, I can't believe how long its taking! - but maybe its just something as simple as Jack not checking his work emails this summer???

You're right - the difference in dynamics is so interesting! Also I think DK and Fred (well the boys in general) are closer to George Martin than I previously thought?? Hearing how George was the one to comfort Fred after the red in Dublin, and now him and DK going on a couples holiday together - could also just be that Ralitsa and Natalie get on really well!

I knew they lived on the same estate but oooh I didn't know other Ollie was living with Fred and DK?! I know they lived together previously but had no idea he'd made the move to Wigston with them?? 🙈

I'm interested to see the new dynamics next season with the new players! Ollie Hassell-Collins and his gf seem lovely but very co-dependent so I wonder if he'll be out with the boys much! Also can't wait to see how their behaviour/play changes under a new head coach...👀

Yeah I've never understood people who do that with complete strangers and then publicise it online for everyone to see like its normal behaviour?? Yours is a fanpage, you support and highlight the boys, sexualising them just isn't necessary - can you imagine if it were the other way around? Gross 😖

It was so weird they danced while having headphones ?

Well he did some clay shooting with Jack and they surely do go hunting... I think it was one of the story that Fred deleted where all the puppies were on Fred :)) and there was the main mamma dog in a sort of coffin and red light to not be cold.

Omg you have to listen to it ??? I was with my headphones one day and at 17 min I was like AGAIN ? Because in some interviews you clearly hear it hehe and first time I heard it in interviews I was like no I imagined it but no hehehe chsschhhschhh https://youtu.be/7797ueo-Lrw for his first cap same you heart it also it is so cute. Depends on his anxiety but sometimes I only hear the lisp.

You gave me an idea and I messaged them asking them to try his other socials otherwise I will DM him on twitter at one point seriously I cannot wait until OCTOBER , should I ?

You are right about Martin , well I knew they were close with Fred but again I don't think George Martin and Jack are that close because of also how he described him as a nice guy on the guess who https://youtu.be/zP8XxPX1qQE (<- also the kid question hahahaa )

I'm not 10000000% sure but I thought Ollie moved with them ?? ?

I WANT NAILPOLISH ON JACK SO MUCH GIVE IT TO MEEEEEEE

I don't want to be hypocritical, I do sometimes write some cheeky comments over HERE and sexualize them from time to time but it's a bit of my editorial line HERE because this tumblr is a bit of my safe place and my open brain where I throw it all. This being said, believe me I would NEVER voice that publicly? Like this tumblr , people choose to follow it it's not as public as Instagram or twitter could be or TIKTOK ???? Like people are so thirsty on them it is INSANE. Let's face it if I'm supposed to be a marble stone when Jack goes commando (he did it twice already) 😭you are at the WRONG address (so sorry to disappoint you but he is my godlike boy I never seen someone more beautiful)

But people thirsting on Fred and Tagging him on insta ???????DUDES

[2jiung]

-ˏ͛ aesthetic tagˏ´- 

tagged by @jisusgf (thank you for tagging me baby! <3) tagging @junhee-s @nctyz (you don’t have to if you don’t want to ofc! & if anyone else wants to do this, just say i tagged you !!) rules bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

soft

baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night

dark academia

neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story

edgy

closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks

seventies

colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | diy-ing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding

preppy casual

collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

cinanamon

gold jewelry | slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover | sun on skin | red-tinted lip balm | lazy mornings | getting lost in foreign cities | scent of bakeries | high-waisted jeans | kissing someone’s neck | writing reminders on your wrist | sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning | growing an herb garden | gentle touches | sketches tucked between pages | flushed cheeks | tandem bikes | floating in a pool | vintage gold hand-mirror | deer grazing | softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea

oversized everything | painted nails | fairy lights | dozing off in the middle of class | tying hair up into a ponytail | round glasses | laughing so hard you can’t breathe | late night study sessions | tender hand holding | impromptu photoshoots | drowning in moondust | bathing in the light of the sunset | strawberry flavored lollipops | polaroid pictures | eagerly tugging someone down the street | handwritten love letters | smell of coffee | living with reckless abandon | crinkled pages of a journal | replaying the same part in a song over and over

naptimetea

everything black | rewearing your favorite outfit | drawing late into the night | rewatching favorite shows | the bread aisle | minty lip balm | falling asleep anywhere and everywhere | making green tea | useless questions when it’s 2 am | forehead kisses | sleeping in till the afternoon | love of pink | staying up to watch the sunrise | dancing in the bathroom | messy handwriting | pile of sketchbooks | talking for hours about interests | old sentimental stuffed animals | hanging out on the bed and doing nothing | thick fluffy blankets

jeonginks

the thrill of leaning your body way over a balcony’s edge | the suffocating feeling when the strong wind blows down your lungs | tip-toeing barefoot | hair ruffling and cheek pinching | hugging a body pillow at night | facing the sky with closed eyes | the whimsical silence when it’s past midnight and you’re the only person awake | when you can physically feel your eyes soften when you look at someone | dancing alone with only an oversized shirt | when your sweater falls over your thighs as you stand up | humming scary but memorable lullabies | vivid imagination | sitting with a mini skirt and thigh high socks | heated laptop on your lap | cereal at 3 am | gliding your fingers across your thighs | bittersweet melancholy | withdrawn and distant eyes | very tight belts | wanting love but not believing in it | not cruel but not kind

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha

split-dye hair | female rappers | staying up until 6am and sleeping until 1pm | taking notes on an ipad | middle school emo music | mini skirts | late night drives | rain on the ocean | flirting with people when you’re bored | doc martens | eating ramen in the pot | afraid of being looked at | fishnets | getting joy out of making people laugh | small tattoos | crying yourself to sleep | peppermint everything | desperate for freedom | chipped black nail polish

maaneskin

silver jewelry | knowing few words in different languages | loose pants with tight shirts | always different hand writing | drug store perfumes | big cups and mugs | loads of blankets | sweatshirts and hoodies | antique boutiques | dark clothing with colorful socks | having your window open 24/7 | always listening to music | dancing in the bathroom | putting stickers everywhere | cats | dandelions are flowers | can never have too many plants | a lot of lip balm | stacks of notebooks | bear hugs

cho1jisu — jani

speaking so softly you have to repeat yourself | heart shaped everything | fresh flowers in your room | pastel stationery | naming your plants | only double knotting the laces on your right shoe | midi skirts and small tops | random poems scrawled across old receipts and napkins | being late to work because you stopped to pet a cat | loving people from behind the scenes | uneven smiles | curled eyelashes | lots of anklets | making handmade gifts | paint covered jeans | keeping a journal | taking a picture of your mom everywhere you go | pressing flowers | cheek kisses | calling your friends by petnames

mirror-mv 

resting your head on someone’s shoulder | flower-shaped earrings | writing birthday letters for friends | tinted lip balm | shimmery eyeshadow | drawing little flowers on my papers during class | talking to your pets | spending hours walking around in fabric stores | letting your friends sit on your lap when there aren’t enough seats | rewatching childhood movies with your loved ones and reminiscing those times | picnic dates | paint/pencil stains on your hands and arms | sitting outside with your friends during a party and looking up at the nightsky | skipping and dancing around the house | cycling with one hand on the handlebar and the other one holding your friend’s hand

#i should socialize more on here ahh i never know who to tag ;; #this tag game is so lovely though #i loved reading everone's aesthetics #*everyone's #i really need to fix the y key on my laptop... #tag game #solcore

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

The Mercer Legacy - Part 4

Pairings: Luke x Reggie x reader, Julie x Flynn x Carrie

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of Reggie’s parents fighting in the edits

A/N: oh man I’m so excited for this chapter. I usually share a lot of bits and pieces with the Ghost Squad while I’m writing but I’ve kept this one under wraps as a surprise! I hope you like it! As always, let me know what you think and drop a comment/send me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Part 3 Masterlist TML Masterlist

___

“Oh, by the way, Julie said her girlfriends are coming to watch practice today,” Alex said, looking up from his phone and you narrowed your eyes at him.

He tucked his drum sticks into the water bottle pocket of his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you. 

“Girlfriends,” you repeated, drawing out the ‘s’ at the end. “As in multiple girlfriends?”

“Yeah, keep up Y/L/N,” Alex said teasingly before realizing why you had questioned it. “I told you you had no reason to be worried.” 

When you arrived you were excited to meet Julie’s significant others and also glad to not have to sit alone during practice. However, that excitement quickly turned to surprise when you stepped into the garage. 

“Carrie?”

“Oh hey Y/N,” she replied, sounding unphased but you noticed the light pink blush spreading across her cheeks. She hadn’t expected someone else she knew to be there just like you hadn’t/ “What’re you doing here?”

You tilted your head towards where Alex was settling in behind his drumset and Carrie nodded in understanding.

“I should’ve guessed,” she smiled and you were taken aback slightly at how genuine it was, used to her stage smile.

“He and I are going to have a long conversation about sharing information,” you said loud enough for Alex to hear on the other side of the studio, glaring at your best friend who just rolled his eyes in response.

“I know Reggie and Luke too.” You directed your words back to Carrie, glancing over to the two boys for the first time since you’d arrived to find them looking back at you and you tried to fight back the heat rushing to your cheeks. It didn’t seem to stop Carrie from noticing and she smirked knowingly.

“Ahh,” she hummed quietly to herself as if she’d just put something together but you had no idea what it could be.

“What?” You questioned a bit abrasively and you winced at your tone. You just didn’t like that she seemed to know something that you didn’t.

“Nothing, just— and you didn’t hear this from me— Julie said Reggie and Luke haven’t been able to shut up about a girl for weeks. I just didn’t expect it to be you.” Carrie shared in a hushed whisper and you flushed in earnest this time, your throat going dry at the information.

“Hey, Mercer are you gonna introduce me to your girl or?” The girl who you assumed was Julie’s other girlfriend called, thankfully interrupting your conversation with Carrie before you had to come up with a response. She slung her arm around your shoulder as she spoke.

Alex rolled his eyes but hollered back, “Flynn that’s Y/N, Y/N that’s Flynn.”

“I take it you’re the one nobody around here shuts up about?” Flynn asked as she stepped away from you.

“Flynn!” Carrie hissed, eyes flashing.

“What, is that supposed to be some secret?” Flynn replied and you laughed while Carrie rolled her eyes fondly.

“Apparently I am,” you shrugged with a shy chuckle.

Flynn nodded pensively, looking you up and down.

“I get it,” she said finally and you felt yourself blush for the umpteenth time since you arrived.

Carrie rolled her eyes, huffing out a quiet “oh my god.”

“Hey PeterPatter you better hurry up before I steal your girlfriend,” Flynn called to Luke and Reggie over her shoulder and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you right there. Luckily when you chanced a glance at the guys they seemed just as mortified as you, both of their faces beat red as they both pointedly avoided looking at each other or you.

“She’s not-”

“I’m not-”

The three of you blurted at the same time, your heads snapping up to stare at each other with wide eyes. Flynn cackled at that and Carrie smacked her arm, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch.

“Wow you guys make it too easy,” Flynn said when she finally stopped laughing, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes.

“Julie, can you please make your girlfriend stop flirting with my best friend,” Alex whined and Flynn flipped him off. “There’re already too many people here who do that,” he added, looking pointedly at Luke and Reggie and you turned to glare at him.

“Fuck you,” you mouthed but he just grinned cheekily.

“In your dreams,” he mouthed back and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“O-kay,” Julie said once she noticed Alex sticking his tongue out at you in response, interrupting the chaos that had consumed the studio. “Why don’t we start practicing.”

The boys nodded hurriedly, settling in behind their instruments while you, Carrie, and Flynn moved to make yourselves comfortable in the various chairs and couch.

“And Flynn? behave,” Julie called at her girlfriend’s back.

Flynn mumbling something petulant under her breath before plopping down on the couch next to Carrie, throwing her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder and pulling her into her. You did your best to stifle a laugh at the reluctant way that Carrie leaned into her girlfriend, arms crossed over her chest and what may look like an annoyed expression but you could see the fondness in her eyes.

The three of you chatted amicably throughout the band’s rehearsal, you getting to know Flynn and getting to know the “real” Carrie. It was nice, they were nice and you quietly wondered why you hadn’t formed a friendship with Carrie sooner. You’d always been amicable in school, but your social circles never really overlapped so you’d never had a reason to really talk to each other. You wished you had.

Practice flew by quicker than usual in the presence of both good music and good company and before you knew it the band was packing up their instruments and Carrie and Flynn were standing to go talk to their girlfriend. Before she got too far, Carrie nudged you in the direction of the two guitarists and Flynn sent you a sly wink.

You stumbled slightly from the force of Carrie’s push but continued to meander over to the band set up, intentionally avoiding the eyes of your best friend who you were certain was smirking knowingly at you.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Reggie said cheerfully when he glanced up from zipping up his guitar case to see you making your way over. “Luke and I were thinking maybe ice cream now that practice is done? Since you missed out the other day?”

You turned to find Luke nodding in agreement to Reggie’s statement and you smiled, heart warming at the gesture. You were certain that they’d be upset with you after you bailed on them with a shitty excuse the other day but it seemed they still wanted to spend time with you, and for that you were grateful.

“I’d love that,” you agreed, “Is Alex coming with?”

“Um, well, I was kinda hoping it could just be the three of us?” Luke spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you guys about…”

You nodded thoughtfully, trying to fight back the frown that threatened to take over your face as a pit of worry opened up in your stomach.

“It’s nothing bad! I swear!” Luke rushed to reassure you both as if sensing your worries.

“Okay.” You nodded again, this time more to yourself. “In that case, there’s a conversation I’ve been meaning to have with you both too.”

You weren’t sure why you’d volunteered that. Maybe you had been emboldened by Luke’s statement.

“I have something too but maybe we should wait and talk about it all over ice cream?” Reggie added hesitantly, sounding even more nervous than you felt.

You all agreed, deciding that whatever news you each needed to share with one another would be improved by the presence of ice cream. With your plans settled, Reggie and Luke finished putting away their equipment and you all said goodbye to the rest of the group before setting off.

It was a short walk from the Molina’s to Reggie’s favorite ice cream place and an even shorter trip with Reggie on his skateboard and you on Luke’s bike handles. Normally you’d spend a ride on Luke’s handlebars giggling loudly (or screaming whenever Luke would swerve suddenly in order to scare you) with Reggie skateboarding by your side. This time though you were all silent and you felt like you were buzzing with anxiety over the prospect of confessing your feelings to the two boys.

The three of you were uncharacteristically quiet as you got your ice cream, each of you paying separately rather than the usual fight over who got to pay this time. It made your gut twist, anxiety welling up once more at what Reggie and Luke had to say.

It wasn’t until you were sat around a table that anyone tried to speak up.

“Okay so-“

“Right, well-“

“I just want-“

The tree of you started at the same time before freezing abruptly. You couldn’t help the shocked laugh that bubbled out of you and you flushed at the inappropriateness of it. However, it seemed to break the tense atmosphere that had surrounded you all since you left the studio, Luke and Reggie breaking into laughter of their own.

“I’ll go first,” you volunteered, startled again when you heard the two boys speak in unison with you.

The three of you fell into short-lived laughter once more before you spoke up again, alone this time.

“Seriously, I’ll go first... if that’s alright?”

You thought back to the message you’d sent Alex weeks ago saying that you weren’t ready to have your heart broken like that. You certainly didn’t feel more ready now, but something in you needed to get this out. Heartbreak or not, at least you’d know for sure.

“Ladies first,” Luke acquiesced and you sent him a brief but grateful smile.

“Okay, um...wow this is a lot harder than I thought,” you muttered to yourself, stuttering over your words. “You guys are great guys and amazing friends but-“

“I have a crush on you!” Reggie blurted, cutting you off mid-sentence and you froze, unable to do more than blink at the boy.

“Both of you,” Reggie clarified after a moment before he began to ramble. “And I didn’t want it to change anything between us because you guys are so important to me and it’s totally okay if you don’t feel the same but...”

“But you just had to get it out there,” Luke finished, a knowing look on his face.

“Yeah, how’d you...?” Reggie trailed off, peering curiously at Luke.

“Because I have a crush on you too, you dork,” Luke confessed with a small laugh that sounded less like he thought the situation was funny and more like he was trying to hide how nervous he was. “Both of you.”

Luke and Reggie turned to look at you then, their nerves obvious in their facial expressions and suddenly the atmosphere was tense again.

“I... I-“ you tried to force out the words before cutting yourself off with a groan. “I can’t believe you guys!”

“What?”

“Here I am trying to get the words out and you- you guys cut me off and... and beat me to it! It’s- it’s not fair!”

“You... what?” Luke asked the question again, this time less out of confusion and more disbelief.

“I have a crush on you— both of you— too and I was trying to tell you but,” you gestured wildly about you as if to reference what had just happened. “I guess it doesn’t matter, huh?”

You were grinning by then, completely unbelieving of your luck. You felt breathless with it, the rush of the adrenaline from your confession combined with the euphoria of Luke and Reggie’s reciprocation was enough to make your head spin.

“So, what now?” Reggie asked, looking surprised that you’d made it to this point. You couldn’t blame him, you felt the same way.

“I vote we eat our ice cream before it’s entirely melted and call this our first date.”

You grinned as you watched Reggie and Luke blush but nod eagerly. You couldn’t help it that your cheeky grin slipped into something much sappier and fond as you watched the boys, your boys.

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayenneferburnham @n0wornever @bright-molina @reg-peters @calamitykaty @sunsetcurvecuddles @dream-a-little-bigger-x @bright-patterson

TML Taglist: @marinettepotterandplagg @everyonesannoyedwithme @percico-heronstairs @starjane312 @ifilwtmfc @jatphatones @cherrymaybank @sorrowfulfragmentation @stargazing-dreamer-girl @daisybutterlions @mynameisntluke @willex-owns-my-heart @theolivekiddo @90ssunsetcurve @avngrsinitiative @thatfandombitcch

#jatp #jatp fic #Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the phantoms fic #social media au #Alex mercer #Reggie peters #Luke patterson #Julie molina #Flynn jatp #flynn nolastname #Carrie wilson #peterpatter #peterpatter x reader #Luke x Reggie x reader #triple threat #Julie x Flynn x Carrie

[shinonometrash]

💕🍄The 12 Days of Ayumu 🍄💕

JULY 17TH!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY AYUMU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AYUMU 😭💕😭💕😭💕 Doing all this translating has done nothing except make me miss him even more 😭 But!!! Today is the big day!! And so we have the thing I’ve been saving for last!!!! The absolutely cutest Ayumu story I think I’ve ever read !!!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I wanted to cry when I read it it was so sweet I love him so much sdfgnkjkjnfg

I was a lot more creative with translating this story to make it sound more fun and natural, since I’m finally getting comfortable enough to start doing that, I really hope you guys enjoy it !!

it’s pretty long, so I’m putting it under a readmore

Ayumu Shinonome: Happy Birthday ♡

technically this story is about Ayumu celebrating our birthday, rather than about celebrating his, but...

In the S ward is one of the most popular downtown areas in Tokyo.

2PM —

Middle schooler: Hey, look at that guy over there

Middle schooler 2: Oh my gosh, yeah!

Middle schooler: He’s a host, don’t you think?

Middle schooler 2: He’s definitely a host!

(…No, you’re wrong.)

(I’m just wearing a formal suit.)

Middle schooler: Eek…this is the first time I’ve seen a host in real life!

Middle schooler 2: I guess that’s the norm around here, we are in Tokyo after all!

Thanks to the middle school students who seem to be in the middle of a field trip, I now see the passersby struggling to contain their laughter.

(This couldn’t get any worse. Ugh, this sucks.)

(Really. I was already reluctant enough to do this as is…)

Speaking of which—

MC: Ayumuuuu~!

At last, the reason for all of this torture has arrived.

MC: Sorry! Did I keep you waitin-…

MC: !!!

(Uh…is she okay?)

MC: Ayumu, you…you look…so hot…

MC: Ahh, you look amazing!!

Ayumu: Dummy!! Keep your voice down!

(If she says something like that too loudly…)

Middle schooler: Oh no, look! He’s got a customer…

Middle schooler 2: She must be a huge regular…

Ayumu: …gah, come on, let’s go.

MC: Huh? Already?

MC: I haven’t changed into my pumps yet…

Ayumu: It’s fine, come on! Hurry up!

MC: Ahh, hold up! I came all this way so at least let me put my arm around yours…

MC: Gahh, slow down! You’re walking way too fast!

MC: Ayuumuuuuuu!

This all started about two weeks ago.

MC: Ayumu! Look! This is what I was talking about!

Ayumu: Eh…? Scary…

Fresh out of the bath, my girlfriend suddenly plops down on the ground.

Ayumu: …What

Ayumu: Don’t tell me you broke my limited edition Tyrannosaurus mug…

MC: No, no, that’s not it!

MC: It has to do with this year’s KappaMC Birthday Celebration!

Ayumu: Gross

Ayumu: You’re creating your own birthday celebration…?

MC: It’s a great idea, isn’t it!

MC: I see this kind of thing a lot on social media!

Ayumu: Even so, you’re not supposed to post that about yourself

Ayumu: That sort of tag is made by enthusiastic fans…

MC: Well then, I’ll ask you to do it, Ayumu! Since you should be my biggest fan!

MC: Pleaaase do it with me~?

MC: Take me on a date in a formal suit please!

Nonsense, I thought. At the time.

However, at a later date…

Toru: Ahh~ This seems to be real popular these days! Suit men

Ayumu: …what?

Toru: If you search anywhere on social media sites, you’ll get tons of hits~

Toru: Guys uploading selfies in suits

…I don’t get it.

What’s so fun about showing off a suit?

(Although, she did say something the other day about wanting to go on a date with me in a formal suit..)

Ayumu: Frivolous. Completely.

Toru: Noo, you just need to choose the right place to go!

Toru: Shall the Great Toru offer you some guidance~?

Ayumu: No thanks. There’s no way that’s ever happening…

Toru: Hm, well I don’t know what kind of person your partner is, but—

Toru: Sometimes it’s important to spice things up a bit so that you don’t fall into a rut!

Ayumu: …

Toru: Again, I really have noo idea who your partner is buuuut

Toru: I think women who like that sort of thing would be really happy~

Ayumu: …

(…bah. He’s probably right.)

(She does seem like she’d like that sort of thing…)

That’s why I decided to title it “The Extraordinary Production”

I end up regretting this as soon as we start stage one—meeting up downtown.

(Ah, well, at least I won’t feel as out of place at the next stage.)

Yes, and the next stage is—

MC: Look! Look! Ayumu! The view outside is sooooooo pretty!!

Ayumu: Ah, I see.

(Naturally. We are on the 38th floor.)

By the way, the seats here are filled almost full.

Of them, about half are reservations.

MC: Whoaaa, did you see?? This afternoon tea set!!

MC: The tea stand! It has five tiers! Five!!

Ayumu: Ah, I see.

MC: Hey, at least act more surprised!

MC: Fives tiers? This is the first time, for me at least, that I’ve ever seen anything like this!

(…yeah, I suppose it would be)

I say this because—

Toru: How’s this place look?

Toru: “Enjoy some luxury afternoon tea on the top floor of a high rise tower”

Toru: Whoa, the tea stand, it’s got five tiers!

Ayumu: Ah, I see.

Toru: Ugh, what kind of response was that!

Toru: Are you even listening?? The tea stand has five tears!!

Toru: Isn’t that alone pretty much a win right there?

Ayumu: I don’t get it.

Toru: In a date, it’s either a win or a loss…

Soma: But doesn’t it seem likely that it would make his date happy?

Ayumu: !

Soma: Women who are particular about food will also care about how many tiers of sweets there are, will they not?

Soma: Glutto-no, women who eat everything with enthusiasm,

Soma: I think they would be very pleased with a five tiered tea stand.

Ayumu: Haa…

MC: What should I do?? My heart is beating so fast, I’m so excited…

MC: I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all five tiers…

Ayumu: If it’s you, you’ll be fine.

Ayumu: …since you’re a glutton.

MC: Huh? What did you just say right now…?

Ayumu: Nothing, don’t worry about it.

Seeing the waiter passing by, I raise my hand to get their attention.

Waiter: Did you decide what you would like to order?

Ayumu: The afternoon tea set for two people, please.

Ayumu: The original black tea blend.

Waiter: Understood, thank you.

As soon as the waiter walks away, I purposely sigh dramatically.

Ayumu: So noisy

MC: Wha-…I didn’t even sa-

Ayumu: Your stare

Ayumu: It feels like you’re trying to stare into my soul or something since a while ago.

MC: …hey, b-but that….

MC: I mean! I can’t help it…

MC: You just look way too amazing today, it’s like my eyes are being sucked in…

Ayumu: …

(…what is she even saying, this girl)

Ayumu: This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me like this though, is it? In a suit?

MC: That’s true, but…today is special…

MC: You wore the suit for me, didn’t you?

MC: That automatically makes you look, like, 30% hotter!

MC: I’m just so happy, I can’t stop looking at you

Ayumu: ….I see.

There was a strange pause before I replied.

Probably because I was remembering the advice that Toru gave me.

Toru:  You definitely need to be sure to always compliment your date’s outfit~

Ayumu: …wha?

Toru: Well, if you’re wearing a formal suit

Toru: Then your date should also be in formal wear, right?

Ayumu: that…well…

Toru: And so, you need to be sure to give your date lots of compliments!

Toru: Cause girls always put several times more effort into things like their makeup and hairstyle!

Ayumu: No, no, she doesn’t have me beat there

Ayumu: If we’re talking hairstyle, it’s definitely me…

Toru:  Bah, well, saying things like “that looks great on you” or “you look pretty” is always a safe bet

Toru: And then…

Ayumu: You don’t—

MC: “I don’t”?

—“you don’t look too bad yourself, either”

That’s it. All I have to do is use what she said as an opportunity to compliment her back.

(So, come on. Say it.)

(Just light and natural.)

(Sound genuine about it…)

Ayumu: You don’t—

MC: Ah!!

Suddenly, my girlfriend jumps out of her chair as if remembering something.

MC: Sorry, is it okay if I go to the restroom for real quick?

MC:  It’s…my shoes, I’m still wearing my sneakers

Ayumu: …

MC: No, I know already, you don’t have to tell me

MC: “You should’ve just worn your pumps from the beginning”

MC: That’s what you were about to say, right?

MC: But these shoes don’t quite fit right…

MC: “It’ll be fine if just change into them right before I meet up with Ayumu”…is what I had told myself

Ayumu: …

MC: I’ll just change into them real quick!!

Ayumu: …

(…This sucks.)

I just let a perfect chance that I’ll probably never see again slip by.

(No, it’s fine though.)

(It’s not like I absolutely HAVE to give her a compliment.)

That was just Toru’s opinion.

She didn’t specifically ask me to do it, or anything.

And so, from there, while I’m with my girl…

MC: Ahh, that was so delicious!

MC: The cake and the scones and the tea, they were all the best! Ayumu: …

MC: Oh, and the clotted cream too!

MC: It was the first time I’ve ever had it but it went surprisingly well with the scones~

MC: I wonder if they sell it at that other shop…

(…this is it.)

Her head is probably full of the afternoon tea we just had.

I want to make her happy…more than anything.

(But it’s impossible to compliment her when things are like this.)

I’ll just start by making a statement about what she’s wearing, but it’ll have a compliment at the end.

“I noticed your dress has lace on top of the turquoise fabric. It’s not bad.

“Those pumps must not be comfortable to wear. But they go nicely with the dress.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you wear this much makeup. It looks nice.”

(I’m psyching myself up too much, aren’t I?)

I guess it just goes to show how much I’ve been looking forward to this day, though.

MC: So where are we going next?

Ayumu: Anywhere is fine, as long as it only takes about an hour.

MC: Hm? What does that mean?

Ayumu: This.

I pull two tickets out of the breast pocket of my suit.

MC: Whaa…the opera??

Ayumu: It’s in about an hour from now. So we can’t go unless we go at that time.

(The idea wasn’t mine, though.)

Yes, this idea…

Toru: Hmm, what other places would be good to wear a formal suit to…

Toru: What about a luxury brand store?

Ayumu: Huh?

Toru: If you wear a businesswear vs a formal suit to a shop, the staff will treat you differently, right?

Toru: Because they’ll be acting even more polite to you

Toru: There’s no doubt that your date will feel like a celebrity!

Toru: Right, Goto?

Goto: Don’t touch me, I’m not responding to that.

Toru: And after you can take her to a fancy restaurant inside a hotel or a bar with a gorgeous night view!

Toru: Sure it might be a little cliche sounding, but it’ll certainly be something out of the ordinary that you won’t forget!

Toru: Hey, Gotooo!

Goto: Look, even if you touch me, I’m still not going to respo-

???: Aww, aren’t you guys sweet

Toru: …huh?

Tsugaru: Don’t you know this is the perfect time to go watch the opera?

Ayumu: ..……good afternoon. How long have you been there?

Tsugaru: Now that hardly matters, does it?

Tsugaru: More importantly, if you’re going to put all that effort into a date, you should go to the opera.

Tsugaru: It’s like a date specifically meant for formal wear, is it not~?

Tsugaru: Hmmm, but…

Tsugaru: It’s possible the person you’re planning to take on a date doesn’t understand the opera, though.

Ayumu: …I should first confirm whether that’s true or not, though

Ayumu: Hey, have you ever watched the opera?

MC: Uhhhh, that’s…

MC: Well, I’ve seen Phantom of the Opera…

Ayumu: That’s not the same thing

Ayumu: That’s just a musical.

MC: …well of course I know that much!

MC: So, this is a first

MC: It’ll be my “first time”!

Ayumu: Wait…do you hear that—

MC: I want my first time to be with you, Ayumu!

MC: So please, take my opera virginity—!

???: Ahhh!!

A sudden scream drowns out her playful chattering.

Woman: A purse snatcher…!!

Woman: Somebody, please! My bag!

(Seriously? A purse snatcher?)

Before I get a chance to confirm, she jumps into action.

She starts chasing the purse snatcher.

(Dummy! What is she doing??)

Purse snatcher: Damn it…!

The criminal escapes to the back alley at the end of the road. Of course, my girl isn’t the type to give up so easily.

MC: Stop right there!

While she chases after the purse snatcher, I enter the next alley. 

If the criminal turns the corner here, I’m pretty sure I can cut him off.

Sure enough—

(…he came.)

MC: Ayumu!

Purse snatcher: Shit…!

I’m in front of the criminal, blocking his path, while she’s at his back. He turns around and rushes at her.

Purse snatcher: Move it!

MC: Just who do you think you are!!

Her next move is quite something. As the criminal charges at her, she swiftly grabs his right hand, twisting it behind his back and shoving him to the ground, planting her body weight on his back.

Purse snatcher: Ouch! Ow ow ow!

From there, we hand over the criminal to the authorities and all live happily ever after—

Or not.

MC: The interrogation took longer than I expected…

Ayumu: Yeah, it did

MC: But if we leave now we should be able to just barely make it in time…

???: Oh my gosh, look at her

I hear a whisper from a woman passing by.

Woman: Yikes, look at her, did she get into a fight?

Woman 2: Maybe she fell? There’s a hole in her stockings

The innocent exchange seems to have reached her ears.

MC: Oh…

There’s no denying that she looks beat up right now.

Her dress is dirty and the knees of her stockings have holes in them. 

(Of course.)

(She had to straddle the criminal on the ground to secure him.)

However, her stockings aren’t the only thing that tore.

MC: I-I’m sorry, I’lll go change them right away…

Ayumu: The lace

MC: Huh?

Ayumu: The lace part on your dress, too

MC: !

Ayumu: Did it get caught on something? Like a nail?

Ayumu: When you were chasing after the purse snatcher

MC: …ah, yeah…

Seems I probably guessed right.

MC: I’m so sorry, I’ll go change into a new outfit…

MC: Ah…but, the time…

Ayumu: …

MC: Please just wait a second…I’ll figure it out someway or another…

MC: To change…I’ll just, I’ll go buy some new clothes…

Ayumu: It’s fine, the way it is now

Strangely, the words seem to just flow out of my mouth on their own accord

Ayumu: You don’t look bad

MC: Uhh…?

Ayumu: It doesn’t look bad, does it? How you look right now

It’s still the outfit she put so much effort into, just a bit worn out now.

Either way, it’s still very ‘KappaMC’-like.

(Really, it’s not bad.)

I run my hands through her messy hair to smooth it out.

She looks up at me, confused.

MC: Um…Ayumu…?

Ayumu: Let’s go

MC: Wait, I can’t go to the opera looking like this…

Ayumu: We’re not. Going to the opera, that is.

MC: What! No! Don’t say that!

MC: You already bought the tickets and everything…

Ayumu: Don’t worry about it, really, it’s okay.

Just a slight change in schedule.

Truthfully, I had planned on bringing her ‘here’ after the opera, anyway.

(Ah, but this timing actually isn’t bad at all, it works out well.)

Ayumu: Aren’t you coming?

MC: But…I look like a mess…

Ayumu: You look fine, don’t worry about it

Ayumu: I rented out the place

MC: Rented out??

MC: Here??

Startled, she looks around at the surroundings.

(Ah, well, it makes sense. Reacting that way.)

If I was in her position,  I’d probably react the same way,

Ayumu: Your hand.

MC: Sorry?

Ayumu: Your left hand. Give it to me.

MC: Oh, um, alright…

I grabbed her nervously outstretched hand and led her to middle of the stairs.

(Finally.)

Now we just need to stand here for five more seconds.

Honestly, this is the most nerve wracking part of the whole day.

(But, well, it’s her birthday.)

(And it’s special.)

Ayumu: 3…2…1…

At the exact moment I point, balloons float up into the sky.

MC: Balloons??!

She watches as the balloons float upwards, eyes wide in surprise.

I use her distraction as an opportunity to pick up the bouquet I had hidden.

Ayumu: Happy birthday

Her mouth falls open wide in shock.

Yeah. It really isn’t like me to do this sort of thing.

But, the one who thought of this surprise, make no mistake, was me. I came up with it.

(This is a once in a year occasion, after all.)

(And I thought she would like it, if I did this.)

Ayumu: So? What do you think?

MC: … Ayumu: MC?

No reply.

(Uhh, what’s the status here?)

(Maybe I messed up…)

MC: A-a…yu…

(Ah-yoo…?)

MC: A-yu-muuuuu…!!

(Whoa wait just a-)

Ayumu: Oof

Sniffling, she throws her arms around me.

MC: I-I…j-just…nnnf, I’m…I’m so, nnnnff, so happy…I, nnnf, love it…s..so much..!!

MC: T-th…! This…surprise, nnnf, it…it’s…!!!

Ayumu: …

MC: P-plea…zz…please sta…stay with, nnnf, with me…fore…forever, nnnf…!!

Ayumu: …dummy.

Ayumu: I can’t understand what you’re saying.

That’s a lie. 

Truthfully, I understand perfectly what she’s saying.

(“Stay with me.”)

I’ll stay with you, for the rest of our lives.

In return, don’t ever let go of me.

I did something today that I never would’ve even dreamed of doing before, all because you’ve changed me.

Ayumu: Happy birthday

MC: T-thank you…

Ayumu: So, what shall we do from here?

First, I have a room for us to stay at.

But after we check in, we can spend our time however we’d like until dinner time. 

(Ah, no, but before that we need to change.)

(As you’d imagine, going to the restaurant looking like this would be…)

MC: …iss…

Ayumu: Hm?

MC: Kiss…I want to kiss you…

MC: From here on…with you, forever…

Ayumu: …

Ayumu: …dummy

I was asking about later today, but…

Is she asking for a kiss with a runny nose and a tear soaked face?

There’s a lot of things I want to say to that, but—

(Ah, well, it’s her birthday…)

Her lips taste salty, as expected.

But…I don’t hate it. Maybe I’ve gone crazy too.

MC: Thank you…

As we pulled away from the kiss she sniffled loudly.

MC: I, um, I feel like I’m dreaming…

MC: My head feels all fuzzy…

Ah, I see.

MC: I’m gonna…just you wait…!

MC: Next time it’s your birthday, I’m gonna think of an amazing surprise…!

Ayumu: No need to.

I have nothing but a bad feeling about that.

Ayumu: Seriously, don’t. Hard pass.

MC: …hmph, meanie!

MC: If this is how you feel, now I’m DEFINITELY going to plan something!!!

MC: Like making dinosaur balloons, or dinosaur 3D pancakes, or…

MC: Maybe I’ll rent out a whole museum…

MC: Mmph, mmm…

It’s really not necessary. Coming up with some sort of surprise.

(If you’re here with me.)

As long as you stay here next to me—

If we can kiss like this, then that’s enough for me.

-The End-

Isn’t that CG gorgeous??? And wasn’t that story soooo frickin adorable??? sbkhgkjadbf I have so many feelings about this 😭💕😭💕

And thank you so so so so sooo much to @world-a-to-z​!! Like I’d mentioned at the start, I was never part of the Peach fanclub because I only started reading Ayumu’s stories almost exactly a year ago now. And so, I didn’t have access to this story. So what did this absolutely wonderful person do?? Transcribe this entire story in Japanese!!!! And then was kind enough to send it to me, along with the screenshots of the backgrounds (which were pretty necessary for all the scene changes, I think) and the CG, so that I could translate it. So please give her a HUGE HUGE thank you for making basically almost the entirety of this birthday celebration possible!!! 💕💕💕

Thank you guys so much for celebrating with me! I hope everyone had a lot of fun!!! I can’t wait to actually sleep again now...I spent sooo much time doing all these translations whoops ><

In case you missed a day, or want to reread anything, you’ll find links to all the posted content here!

#the 12 days of ayumu #ayumu's birthday celebration #happy birthday shinonome #ayumu shinonome #hlitf shinonome #hlitf ayumu #hlitf #her love in the force #my trash translations #love 365 #shinonome ayumu #voltage romance games #voltage otome #otome #東雲歩

[house-of-cakes]

Jamais Vu

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prev || Next

Chapter 14: Consider it Done 😇

Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 1505

Warnings: Swearing and Jungkook is the official president of the “I hate Y/N” Club 

Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

Author’s note: There’s a slight error in the dates for this chapter. All of the dates should read for the month of February and not January. I think my social media app had a meltdown and I realised too late 😅. 

If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊

Tagged list: @inspinkyring​ @betysotelo18​ @kardia-apo-marmelada​ @casspirit0705​ @preciouschimine​ @therealsugababe​  @lucedelsole97​ @deolly​ @lexy9716​​  @thesweetest-peas​ 

STORY CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT

Y/N climbed the stairs to the balcony and scanned the area for her intended target. She smirked to herself when she found the ash-blonde bombshell sitting by herself and made her way over to her.

She plopped herself beside the girl and let out an overexaggerated sigh of relief. She leaned her arm on the back of the couch and rested her face in her palm. Y/N positioned herself so that her body was turned towards the girl and waited for her to look up from her phone to notice her presence.

The girl grunted in annoyance at the disturbance and looked up from her phone, ready to tell off the stranger who had interrupted her peace.  The girl swallowed the dry lump that had formed in her throat once she realised who was sitting next to her.

She was in deep shit and she knew it.

It was common knowledge that Y/N never socialised outside of her friendship group and when she did it was never for a good reason.

“Hey! How’s your night going?” YN’s voice and smile was so sugary sweet which was a totally contradicted the dark and piercing look in her eyes. “You must be having a great time, I’ve been seeing you up top a lot lately.”

“U-u-h yeah.” She stammered as she racked her braining trying to recall what she had done wrong to get on Y/N’s bad side like this.

“I bet you thought you’d be able to come in here, bat those cute little doe eyes a few more times and soon enough you’d be securing a permanent spot on the balcony, right?” The girl sat up straighter and shook her head trying to deny the accusations.

“No tha-”

Y/N cut her off before she could explain

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for using your looks… I of all people know how far a pretty face gets you in a place like this” Y/N’s hand reached out to play with the ends of her short hair that perfectly framed her face. “But don’t think for a second your beauty act is convincing anyone that you’re anything more than a filthy thief.

“Is this because I like Tae?” the panic evident on the girls face “I promise I will leave him alone.”

YN realised why the blonde had chosen to sit where she did. From her spot she had a perfect line of sight of Taehyung where he sat with her friends and the rest of her brother’s crew.  

“Nah, that’s not it. Although it did piss me off to hear that you were harassing Sunnie again the other day for his number” Y/N shrugged it off nonchalantly even if she was filled with excitement, she was literally working a job that took care of a criminal and a thirsty-ass social climber.  “No that’s definitely not the reason why I’m coming after you…it sure does sweeten the deal though”

The girl started to sob, the jig was up. If Y/N exposed her for what she was she would be ruined.

If Y/N was aware about her sticky fingers she definitely knew about her other criminal activities. The girl knew that Y/N had her ways for digging up dirt on people and she was not afraid to expose them if it meant protecting her friends.  

She once heard a rumour that an older guy was bullying Jimin. When Y/N demanded he stay away from her friend he laughed in her face and said she wouldn’t dare touch him as he was the son of the local police chief. When the guy refused to listen to her warning, she got the guy expelled then exposed his father for his corrupt ways and got him fired.

“People are going to assume I’m exiling you because your one of Tae’s groupies and by all means feel free to continue that narrative...You’ll get to protect your innocent persona and people will continue to see how far I will go for my best friends.”

“You’re a crazy bitch! You know that right?!” she cried out

“Yes, I do and the more people who know that the better.” Y/N needed people to believe this take down was motivated by her dislike for groupies and not for the actual reason. She was very diligent in keeping the Magic Shop’s identity concealed and didn’t want her role as the Shop Keeper to be apparent.

“You can’t banish me!”

“Ahh you see, that’s where you’re wrong...I keep management very happy by keeping the Basement a trash free zone and they thank me by letting me do whatever the fuck I want.”

Y/N snapped her fingers in the air and pointed down to the girl next to her and immediately a security guard rushed over to throw the girl out.

“Thank you, Bounce.” Y/N offered her favourite bouncer a playful smile as she waved condescendingly to the disgraced girl.

From his spot next to Jin, Jungkook’s mouth fell open in shocked as he witnessed Y/N having an innocent girl thrown out. He thought whole scene was a disgusting display of an abuse of power.

“What the hell was that?!” Jungkook leaned over to whisper in Jin’s ear. He was very aware of the crowd he was sitting with and didn’t want to her brother or friends to overhear him.

“What was what?” Jin tore himself from the conversation he was having with Yoongi to answer him. Both of them turned their attention to him and waited for him to explain what he was going on about. When Jungkook didn’t answer immediately, Yoongi got the hint that the conversation was intended to be shared between the two cousins and turned to initiate conversation with Namjoon. Jungkook paused a moment longer, insuring the conversation was completely private before nodding his head in Y/N’s direction.

“Y/N just pointed at a girl and a bouncer came out of now where and threw her out!”

“Oh, that?” He replied nonchalantly, he hardly believed the question was so important that he needed to stop his conversation he was having with Yoongi. “You just saw your first Y/N take down.”

Jungkook’s face twisted in disgust at his cousin’s total lack of concern.

“How are you ok with that?!”

Jin shrugged in response.

“It’s not like she does it all the time or without reason. The people she kicks out are normally girls harassing Tae or Sunnie. She’s very protective and that’s what actually makes her a really good friend.”

Jungkook hated how quick Jin was to always defend this girl. From the moment she got him kicked out of the Basement to the time she kicked his ass at Reload, he saw no redeeming qualities in her. He thought the way she carried herself was rude and arrogant and the more he thought about how people let her get away with being a spoilt brat the more he grew irritated.

“Uh…what about the time she got me kicked out? What did I do to her then?!”

“I hate to break it to you kid but from what you told me…you bumped into her and Bounce kicked you out…she never asked him to do that”

“Everyone kisses the ground she walks on. She’s such a spoilt princess!”  Jin’s face hardened at the hostility in Jungkook’s voice. He noticed the ever-increasing negativity towards Y/N and it was begging to wear his patience thin.

Jin was aware that Jungkook was very popular at his old school and he believed that through his former popularity he had grown accustomed to the arrogance that came with being a part of the highest social standing.

Things worked differently here and although the scene was growing quite fond of him, there was a lot Jungkook needed to learn.

It was easy to misunderstand Y/N. It was even easier to believe this imagine that Basement portrayed of her. From the years that he had been Namjoon’s best friend he had come to see past the preconceptions that followed Y/N along.

Y/N didn’t need to be protected by anyone, much less Jin but he helped Jungkook get into the Basement and he, himself would gladly get his cousin kicked out if that’s what is needed for him to be humbled.

“Cut it out, Jungkook.” Jin’s voice was stern. It was very rare for Jungkook to see Jin call him by his name. The way he spoke to him was much like a parent scolding a child throwing a tantrum.

“But Hyung -” He went to continued however the sentence was lost when the group erupted in cheers as Y/N made her way to the group.

“Hey fam!” she greeted everyone then plopped herself into Taehyung lap. Jungkook watched as she threw her arm around his neck and beckoned her friends closer to her. She whispered to the group and when they pulled back their faces were plastered with smiles. 

Jungkook shook his head in disapproval. 

Everyone else may be able to be fooled by her pretty face but he would not.

#bts #Jeon Jungkook #BTS jungkook #Jungkook x you #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook x angst #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x you #bts angst #bts social media au #house of cakes writes #jamais vu #enemies to lovers #bts e2l

[servingy-nneeds]

PLEASE DON’T NOTICE ME

WHAT KIND OF YANDERE ARE THEY?: KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) PART 1

TRIGGER WARNING: MANIPULATIVE

COMBINATION: MONOPOLY and REMOVAL TYPE

Monopoly type of Yandere tries to monopolize their lover in any way or form. Trying to get you to distrust people, in worse case scenarios wouldn’t let you socialize with other people. Their reasoning that ‘they may harm you’ and that you are far too naive for it to notice. Is extremely inquisitive on who you hang out with and where you are at a particular time.

Removal type of Yandere go through great lengths in order to remove people whom they deemed isn’t worth your attention, everyone. This includes any forms of social interactions digital or physical. After all you have them in your life what more can you ask for.

Even after being hailed as pro Hero no.2 Hawks still couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness, having been used to isolation for almost his whole life. Don’t get him wrong, Hawks’ thought of himself as pretty chill and extroverted guy, Having friends here and there; both those belonging in the higher ups down to the shady ones. He is quite the charmer if he say’s so himself.

Maybe that’s what made you blind sighted when several red flags presented itself.

With your shitty luck you both first met when he saved you amongst other civilians during a bank robbery. Just a normal civilian with a rather bad luck. After successfully restraining the villains he tried to reassure the victims. That was his first intention. When he approached you ready to give another same old speech preaching on assuring peace and stuff like that.

“Thank you Hawks sir, but please take care of yourself too, you look pretty worn out” you asked sympathetically handing out your handkerchief with your initials embroidered on it.

Well that certainly caught him off guard. Normally he does the comforting part, not the other way around.

Albeit the hanky being shoved to his face, he didn’t accept it finding it quite annoying that you indeed saw past his cool facade.Deciding to humor your concern, he replied beaming with self-confidence “Hahaha don’t worry your pretty head for little ol’ me”

Upon turning his back ready to continue his patrol, he heard your words of concern again loud and clear despite the booming voices of cheers from his fans.

“Your eyes says otherwise though”

After that he couldn’t stop himself wanting to hear those same words of concern for him. And so, through connections, mainly re-reading police reports on the list of victims that he somehow got access to. He finally found what he was looking for, a detailed list of your personal information.

At first he thought it was only to satisfy his need curiosity for humanly affection. Wanting to re approach you with the intention of finding out if you truly did care for him just as you had previously stated or was it just a moment of sympathy.

At night while perched upon a tall building of a quaint city, guided with the information he gathered, he tried spotting you amongst the meager crowd. And with his luck, lo and behold there you were apparently being trailed upon by a drunk with a hedgehog like quirk mutation.

He stopped for a moment to observed, waiting for the perfect opportunity where you would feel cornered, hopeless, in need of a hero , in order to instill in your mind that he was your ONLY savior.

“Please someone help!”

Ah that was his cue for his grand entrance, while ascending to your side while quickly pining the offender, with his quirk, he was quick to offer you his back to hide on. The culprit tried trashing around, one of his quills accidentally grazing Hawks in his face. Just as he predicted. After which he directed the perpetrator back to the nearest police station carried by his feathers.

“Never knew you had such a bad luck lady” he said with a grazed cheek, trying to make fun of the situation despite seeing your form shaking like a leaf.

“Hawks sir you’re injured!” you said reaching up to him, wiping the blood from his cheeks with the sleeves of your white buttoned down uniform.

Then it happened again, the same nagging feeling bothered him again. He was supposedly someone who should be indestructible, someone the society can rely on. 

Somehow he thought that being fussed on was ‘mad annoying as hell’ but now on the receiving end of this affection you were willingly giving away to a complete stranger. He figured it was comparably bearable, he believes as long as it was coming from you.

Unconsciously he leaned to your hands, carefully cradling his face, while still aiding said injury. ‘Ahh’ he thought he could really get used to being pampered and cared for.

Succeeding in cleaning off the wound you retracted your hands back at your body, finding it weird when he the Pro Hero tried to lolled his head back towards your hands. Somehow like he was leaning back to it?

“Umm well then, sorry I got too personal with that” you said chuckling faintly still a bit shaken up with the events that transpired this evening “But really I owe you for saving me again Hawks sir”. Having given your thanks, you turned your back to him ready to relieve the night back in the safety of your apartment.

Snapping off from being dazed for a second he caught up to you. “Hey now don’t be stranger, here I’ll walk you home, lead the way” ever the chatterbox he was known for he said that so quickly you weren’t given a chance to decline his offer.

“Y’know now that I think about it do you think this scar would affect my modeling career?” he asked nonchalantly tracing his newly acquired scar. This was bullshit he knows, the modeling agencies he works for are aware that during his hero work he couldn’t help acquiring new scars here and there. That’s what makeups and editings are for.

“I’m truly am sorry Hawks sir. If you would like I can brew some coffee for you back at my place” you said hastily a bit guilty.

‘Score’ he thought, happily drinking up the on the idea of you brewing something just for him.

He believes if you were willing enough to let him walk you back, willing enough to let him inside in your apartment, and diligent enough to make him a cup of coffee, then you wouldn’t mind his presence tagging closely along by your side starting today.

Truly what a bad luck you have

#bnha x reader #imagines #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #reader insert #bnha imagines #servingy/nneeds

[jumpship90]

The Newlywed game!

Thanks for the tag @damejudyhench I really enjoyed writing this! tagging in @captastra @thisisrigged4 @ladyoriza and @galaxymermaid214

1. Who can outdrink the other?

Jaq: See, something about cryo-storage messed with my tolerance. Phin mentioned it was to do with bonds and molecules and something . . .

Phineas: I believe the scientific term for Jaq’s condition is “lightweight.”

2. Who says “I love you” more?

Jaq: I think we’re pretty even there? I just . . . if it comes to mind, it seems worth saying, you know?

Phineas: Jaq. I counted. And I never tire of hearing it.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

Jaq: I mean he actually goes to bed if I’m there rather than nodding off at his desk, so . . .

Phineas: I have . . . bad dreams, on occasion. Jaq’s presence helps considerably.

4. Who swears more?

Jaq: He’ll say it’s me but he can turn the air blue when he’s angry

Phineas: Jaq has the mouth of a spacer

5. Who does more of the housework?

Phineas: I do my part. If it’s clean, I really don’t see the issue. Besides, it’s not mess, it’s all part of my filing system

Jaq: We’ve come to a truce on this – I don’t stress about the bed being unmade if he remembers to pick clothes up off the floor, so we’re pretty even

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

Jaq: Neither of us!

Phineas: I would never! My notes are much too meticulous for that

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Phineas: It’s not stealing if they don’t need it.

Jaq: Phin. I run hot though so I don’t mind. Besides, he pretty much becomes my duvet

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Phineas: I’ve never been told I snore but then Jaq could sleep through a solar storm.

Jaq: Given how light of a sleeper Phin is, I’m sure he’d have told me by now if I snore

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Jaq: Does a collection of preserved specimens count? Then it’s Phin.

Phineas: Well Bubble’s was here first

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Phineas: Jaq can produce a meal from nothing. Dinner is safer in their hands

Jaq: He’d skip most meals if I didn’t remind him to eat.

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Phineas: Music is an act of rebellion! It should always be played loud!

Jaq: Phin sings – constantly. It’s cute

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

Phineas: Jaq. They’re quite particular about their hair

Jaq: He’s going to say it’s me but he’s the one that uses all the hot water

13. Who gives the most compliments?

Jaq: Phin. I’m not as good with words.

Phineas: Jaq deserves them

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

Phineas: The odd debate between partners is healthy

Jaq: Phin has strong opinions

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

Phineas: I don’t intend to but, well, I’m afraid thirty-five years of isolation can leave a man a little behind on social cues. Jaq is very patient with me

Jaq: Phin does have his quirks

16. Who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

Jaq: Oh boy, where to start with this . . .

Phineas: They have a very punny name! It can’t be helped!

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Phineas: Ha! Jaq is a complete baby about even a sniffle. I, on the other hand, am very resilient and Jaq worries far too much.

Jaq: He’ll say it’s me because I carried him away from his desk one time when he had the flu, but I’m not the one with a stack of medical charts listing every time their partner’s so much as sneezed

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

Phineas: Why waste precious time being angry at one another?

Jaq: *shrugs* can’t see the point in letting things linger The quicker you bust up the quicker you make up.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Phineas: Ahh, well, I suppose that would be me. It’s nice to have someone around in those moments

Jaq: No one likes to feel alone.

20. Who is more ‘physically passionate���? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

Phineas: I’d say we’re rather evenly matched there but Jaq is a wonderfully physical individual.

Jaq: *rubbing furiously at the back of their neck* I’m not answering that

#jaq/phin #newlywed game #captain jaq

[ateezmakemeweep]

could you please do a reaction to ateez finding out your tumblr profile? like it was supposed to be hidden but they snuck up or something and saw it? thank you!

❥ kim hongjoong

you had a tumblr before you started dating hongjoong and it was the only form of social media you kept after going public with your relationship. it was an account no one knew about, where you were still able to have close contact with your friends and have some form of entertainment. 

and if you just so happen to stumble upon gifs and videos of your boyfriend, then you’d give it a like or reblog. just for fun and to support the content creators, not because you throughly enjoyed them and thought he was-

“is that me?”

you jump at hearing your boyfriend’s voice, your eyes widening as you turn your phone into your chest; you hadn’t even heard it come in. 

“no!” you tried to deny but he’d already seen it, walking over and raising an eyebrow at you. he pecked your cheek and insisted that if you wanted pictures of him, he’d be more than happy to take some from you while he’s out at practice or in the studio. 

❥ park seonghwa

“let me see it, baby.”

“it’s nothing,” you whine, sitting under your phone with a rampant blush on your cheeks. you were just scrolling through your social media accounts before bed, craning your neck over your shoulder to check if seonghwa had come out of the bathroom; but you still heard the water running and deemed it safe to check, looking through the few ateez accounts you started following a few weeks ago. 

something about it felt weird but you liked seeing his face pop up on your dashboard, knowing that you had an extra outlet for information if you couldn’t get into direct contact with him. 

that was until he came up behind you and called your name softly, a gasp leaving you as your phone fell to the floor. you scrambled to pick it up and sat on it, the boy immediately raising his eyebrow at you. 

and it was with one stern look you let out a sigh, flipping your phone over to show case a gif of him dancing. he bit his lip to hide his smile, something soft and warm filling his chest as he places a kiss on top of your head.

you whine at him in embarrassment but he only presses a finger to your lips, admitting that he thinks it’s cute you look at those things. 

❥ jeong yunho

it was really your friend’s fault in the first place, a link she sent you with yunho and his “cute friend you just have to set her up with,” leading down the spiral of ateez tagged content. 

you had never had a tumblr and didn’t know how it worked but you quickly discovered it was a great place to see cute little pictures and videos of your boyfriend when he was away on tour or shows and you couldn’t see him. 

but when yunho surprised you a day early and walked in unannounced, he saw his face on your phone and a small smile immediately lit his face. “what is that?”  you squealed at the sound of his voice, your phone flying in the air and plopping on the couch as you turned around.

you didn’t even have the time to be embarrassed or mad at him for scaring you because you hadn’t seen him in weeks, rushing over to him and throwing yourself into him. he laughs against your head as he puts his arms around you, pulling back after a long-awaited hug with a small smile on his face. 

and that’s when the embarrassment floods through you, biting down on your lip because he just caught you looking at him on tumblr. “i…can explain, my friend showed me that at first because she has a crush on seonghwa and-“

he shakes his head as he places a kiss on your lips, mumbling that he missed you too.

❥ kang yeosang

“why does he do this? is he kidding me? i could seriously just-“

“what are you doing?”

and if you weren’t tipsy from your night out with him and the boys, you would’ve never outed yourself. would’ve never shoved your phone in his face with your tumblr profile displayed and asked your shy, reserved boyfriend why he does this for other people to see. 

he couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling out of him, taking you in his arms and guiding your stumbling frame to the bedroom. and it’s only the next morning, your head pounding the second your eyes open and you see yeosang looking down at you, that he smirks and pokes fun at you for last night.

“so…how long have you had that account?” 

you try to play dumb at first but then with morning hair and puffy eyes, he sticks his tongue out and brings his thumb to his mouth teasingly, a horrified gasp leaving you because you can recall that gif far too well.

❥ choi san

a tiny noise in the back of your throat alerts san immediately, eating his food with your feet in his lap. it was rather bold of you to start with, scrolling through tumblr right next to him when you know you see posts of him. 

but you hadn’t ever seen one like this, even given the... obvious duality to your boyfriend. because now, he’s turned and looking at with his mouth stuffed with noodles, his head turned to the side as he asks if you’re okay.

“ye-yeah, sorry,” you mumble out, heating rushing to your cheeks as you get out an excuse about something being stuck in your throat. but then he smirks after swallowing his food, raising an eyebrow that proves he just doesn’t quite believe you. 

and how could he, when the mirror behind you has been giving you away this whole time?

“you sure about that?” he asks with a small smile, ditching his food as he leans over and places a kiss on the tip of your nose. you scrunch it up as you hide your phone away from him, gasping when the boy nods his head behind you and you see your reflection staring back at you.

❥ song mingi

you tried to stay away from looking at your boyfriend’s presence on social media. something about it made you feel awkward, almost like you shouldn’t be looking at it as someone who knows him in real life.

but sometimes they just pop up and you can’t bring yourself to look away or not give it a like. you thought mingi was sleeping as you laid in bed and double clicked your screen, reminding yourself to find a video of that performance and watch it for science. 

“you’re not gonna reblog it?” 

a gasp leaves your mouth at your boyfriend’s deep teasing voice, turning over and smacking him in the arm roughly. “how did you…why do you…how do you even know about that!” a smirk makes its way on his face as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, telling you that if you’re good, he’ll let you wear that shirt one day. 

❥ jung wooyoung

wooyoung couldn’t help running over to tease you when he saw you scrolling, the familiar dance move and scene catching his eye on your phone immediately. 

“now who is that?” 

you let out a gasp as you hear wooyoung right behind you, a quiet “ahh,” leaving you that cause him to throw his head back in laughter. he had no idea you followed him or his group’s presence on social media but he can’t say he was mad about it, pressing a kiss on your cheek before rubbing at the warm skin with his finger. 

“what’s your account name? wooyoungswifey?” 

“you’re disgusting, of course not!” you squeal, hitting at your boyfriend who only continues to tease you relentlessly. 

“do you write fan fiction about me? no need to, babe, when you got the real thing right here.”

you hide your face in your pillow and resist the urge to scream, wooyoung’s laugh ringing in your ears only making your embarrassment worse. 

❥ choi jongho

you let out a giggle and eye roll scrolling on your tumblr account, shaking your head at the sight you’re all too familiar with. and jongho must notice because, without your knowledge, he peeks over and catches the sight of him on your phone screen.

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face as he continues to cook for you, not calling you out until he places your food down. you immediately feel your face flush, stammering and stuttering that you don’t go on a lot and only sometimes like pictures of him.

“sometimes?” he asks with a look of concern on his face. “why only sometimes? you should be liking them all the time.”

you roll your eyes at you throw a carrot at him, embarrassment still coursing through you but happy he didn’t tease you too bad about it.

#💌 #request #ateez reactions

[august-anon]

LERning New Things About Ourselves -- Pineapple’s Fics!

Note From August: With Pineapple taking a break from tumblr until she’s an adult, I will be hosting her fic on my blog for the time being. You can find them under tags like pineapple fics and pineapple writing. Once she is back, they will be deleted from my blog and reposted to her own. Thanks for being understanding to her during this time! Don’t forget to show her your love!

Word Count: 9111 words

Characters: lee!Virgil, ler!Roman

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

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the maliciously coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started on that fateful day when Virgil Anthony decided to post an ad for a new roommate. His previous roommates, Patton and Logan each got married and moved away, leaving Virgil with an empty apartment and no friends. 

 He was surprisingly content with that reality had it not been for a silly little thing called “rent” that incessantly found itself worming its way into Virgil’s life, and grew impressively large throughout the months. So, deciding he wished to eat this month, he begrudgingly settled on posting a chipper little advertisement on their community college’s website requesting a new roommate, provided they could come up with $450 a month. Weeks passed by and he was starting to lose hope until finally, he got a reply. After a quick online interview, he found himself with a new roommate. Before Virgil knew it, it was moving day.

 And that was when he met Roman Prince. Roman was… eccentric.. to say the least, but despite their slightly awkward interview, Virgil knew he was the one. And maybe it helped that he made twice what Virgil made in a week, and brought with him a flatscreen TV and a Switch. Just a little.

 “Ahh! Hello!” greeted the man as he set down his suitcase on the steps leading to the apartment. “You must be Virgil!” He stuck out the newly freed hand to shake Virgil’s. Virgil accepted.

 “Hey, dude. Yeah, and you must be Roman,” he acknowledged with a smile. “Do you need help with your stuff?” 

Roman waved his hand. “Nah, a couple of buddies of mine are coming by later to help me. For now, it’s just me and my suitcase,” he answered, pointing to the suitcase he left by the staircase. Virgil nodded. 

 “Okay, cool. Well, why don’t you come in, and we can chat.” Virgil wrung his hands slightly as he spoke, his nerves lit up from the social anxiety. He was trying his best to be friendly and not scare this guy off. Fortunately, Roman seemed to do most of the talking for the both of them. Only a couple hours in, the two found themselves seated on the sofa, sipping wine, and getting to know each other. Well, it was mostly Virgil getting to know Roman.

 “So, how long have you lived in Cheyenne?” Virgil asked him.

 “About three years now! We moved right after I graduated highschool, my parents grew up here, and I decided to go to college here too,” he answered, pointing to the east side of the apartment in the direction of the community college.

 Virgil smiled. “That’s nice you all can live in the same area. You get along with your family well, I take it?”

 Roman bobbed his head. “Oh yeah. I’m an only child, and it’s safe to say they spoiled me,” he chuckled, and Virgil joined him. Roman shrugged, smiling wryly. “I mean, I’m sure you figured that out considering no sibling should ever feel this confident,” he joked.

 Virgil snickered. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Coming from a kid with three older brothers, I know.” He poured some more red wine into both of their glasses. “So, where do you work?” he inquired, ignoring the urge to ask where he makes so much money,

 “I work at the bar across the street, Rattlesnake Juice Bar. I’m the manager,” Roman said, bringing the glass up to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. 

 “Wow, that’s impressive! Normally at twenty-one, employers don't offer management positions at bars,” commented Virgil, sipping his own drink. Roman swallowed his drink and shrugged.

 “I guess it was because I had some experience, you know? I’ve been in management since I was seventeen.” Virgil nodded his head with a smile. 

 “Yeah, that’d do it,” he chuckled. Virgil shifted so he sat on his knees. “So, are you going to do management for a major?” he asked. 

 Roman shook his head. “No, actually, although it’d probably be a better career plan. Instead, I’m majoring in Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing.” Virgil brought the glass up to his lips, preparing to drink again. 

 “Oh wow, that’s cool. What do you like to write?”

 “Tickle fanfiction.”

 Virgil coughed violently, and spit the wine he just had in his mouth onto his shirt. Roman’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, oh my gosh, are you alright?” he asked, hurriedly grabbing paper towels and handing them to the still sputtering man. Virgil snapped back to reality and finally noticed the spill.

 “Oh, for heavens’ sake-“ he muttered, graciously accepting the towels and dabbing at his shirt. Roman furrowed his eyebrows as he helped Virgil clean up.

 “Are you alright?” he asked again, his voice laced in genuine concern. Virgil looked up at him for a moment and examined his eyes for any signs of malfeasance. Nothing.

 “Um, yeah, I-“ he coughed again, his cheeks turning a light pink. “Yeah, I just, you know, went down the wrong pipe,” he stuttered, gesturing vaguely to his throat. Roman nodded in understanding.

 “Yeah, that happens to me all the time. Are you sure you’re good?”

 Virgil nodded a bit too earnestly as he got up to go throw away the wine-soaked paper towels. Once safely in the kitchen, he refocused his breathing and tried to calm his beating heart. It was a good thing too, because as soon as he returned, Roman continued the conversation right back up where it had left off.

 Virgil barely had time to sit down before Roman began speaking again. “Yeah, so anyways, back to our conversation, I write tickle fanfiction,” he explained with a smile. “It’s super fun. I have quite the following on Tumblr too! Over three hundred followers and they're growing by the minute!” Roman raved. Virgil just started in utter disbelief.

 “Oh, well. That’s, uh, cool.”

 Roman’s face lit up in excitement. “I take it you know what tickle fanfiction is?” he asked eagerly.

 Virgil’s face heated to a thousand degrees. “No! I-I mean, no, not really. I just, I was being supportive. Yeah.” Virgil cringed at how painfully obvious he was being. This guy had to know his slip up. At least he clearly didn’t have to worry about being judged with Roman. But alarmingly, Roman actually appeared to believe him.

 “Oh! Well, it’s the coolest thing. Basically-“ he paused for a moment. “Hm, actually, I guess the best way to explain is to start at the very beginning!”

 And there Virgil sat, for an entire hour, as he listened to Roman in great explicit detail explain every aspect of the fixation of tickling, the community he was in, and everything he wrote about without a single stutter or slip up. And Virgil listened the whole way through, flinching at the subconscious wiggling of fingers as Roman discussed teases, and thanking whoever the genius inventor of foundation was, for it was the only thing keeping him from blinding his new roommate with the power of his flush as Roman described lees and lers.

 Virgil also found out that apparently Roman was a ler. How…interesting.

 Finally, mercifully, Roman stopped talking. “Oh goodness,” he laughed. “I’ve been talking for almost an hour, haven’t I!”

 Exactly fifty-six minutes, thought Virgil. 

 “Sorry, I just get really excited and passionate about tickling and writing! Writing is my biggest hobby, and I love it so much. I try to be in touch with all my followers too, you know? I message back to anyone who messages me first, and reply to comments when I can.” 

 “Um, yeah. Well, I, uh, better throw this shirt in the wash,” Virgil interjected, leaping from the couch and scurrying out of the room.

 Roman stared, watching his roommate in confusion, but ultimately shrugged it off and went to go find his new room.

It had been a week since the incident, and frankly, Virgil had not fully recovered yet. He didn’t even know how to begin to process the fact that a proud, confident ler was now living with him. He desperately wanted to know what Roman’s Tumblr account was to see if he could follow him. But discreetly of course, because even though Roman may be secure and confident in his quirk, Virgil was not, and that was just how it was. It would be easy, right? Just ignore him when he talks about it. Virgil was sure Roman was probably used to it.

 Later that afternoon, Virgil was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and was intensely scrolling through Tumblr on his phone trying to find Roman’s blog, when the man in question walked into the room.

 Virgil all but threw his phone across the room in a panic when he heard the heavy footsteps behind him. He spun around. “Uh, y-yes?” he asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to slow his pounding heart rate. Roman didn’t seem to notice the odd behavior.

 “Hey, Virge! So, you’re an English major, right?” He pulled up a chair at the dining room table and sat down. Virgil nodded, happy for the change of conversation.

 “Yep. Whatcha need?” 

 Roman pulled out his phone and scrolled for a bit before handing it over to Virgil. “Do you mind proofreading this for any grammar or spelling errors?” 

 Virgil nodded and accepted the phone, squinting to try and read the tiny print. This wasn’t uncommon for Virgil. Many of his acquaintances often asked Virgil to proofread their emails and letters to bosses and businesses. It wasn’t until a few seconds of staring until he noticed.

 It was a tickle fic. Virgil’s face blossomed into a bright red, as he glanced up at Roman who was sitting stone faced and calm.

 “What-” he cleared his throat, “What is this?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

 Roman tilted his head. “One of my fics! I’m not the best with grammar, and I was really hoping you could help me edit. You know, as a writing major I really want to get better,” he responded with a smile. Virgil took a shaky breath. No, this was fine. Completely and totally fine. He was just reading a fic in the direct presence of a ler, and then giving him pointers on how to make it better. 

 “Well, um, you could, maybe, reword this better,” he finally said after a minute. 

 “What part?”

 Virgil pointed to a sentence on the screen. “That one.”

 Roman looked at him and giggled. “Virge, do you really think I can see that? Just read it to me, silly.”

  Virgil’s face felt like it was on fire. “Oh, um. Okay. So you w-wrote, ‘He laughed, squirming all over the bed, as Chuni followed him, massaging his r-ribs.’ Yeah?” He glanced up at Roman to see him listening intently. Oh, this was hard. “Um, so, to make it flow better you can reword it slightly by changing, changing the order.” He cleared his throat again. “For example, ‘He laughed and squirmed all over the bed and Chuni followed him, m-massaging his ribs.’ Does that, um, make sense?” he clarified.

 Roman smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it does! Thanks! Anything else?” Virgil shut his eyes in an attempt to control his breathing.

 “Well you, um, spelt t-tormenting wrong,” he grimaced. Roman leaned over. 

 “Oh did I?” Virgil nodded, propping his head up on his arm in a weak attempt to hide his face. “Can you go over the rest with me?”

 Virgil pinched his arm. “Yep, sure thing,” he squeaked.

 That was by the longest afternoon of his young adult life. But if he thought that was bad, nothing compared to what happened a month later. 

Virgil had still not yet found Roman’s blog, and he kicked himself for not checking to see what the title of the one fic he proofread was so he could search it up later. Regardless, he was still very closeted in his secret fantasy, and somehow managed to keep his cool throughout the many conversations where Roman brought up his ler moods, and writings, and such. 

 “Virgil!” exclaimed Roman, bursting into the room. Virgil jumped slightly from his seat on the couch, nearly dropping his phone. 

 “Um, yes?” He turned to see Roman holding a ukulele. “Why do you have a ukulele?” 

 Roman smiled excitedly. “Well, so you know how I talk about teases, right? How they’re essential to the wreckage of a lee?” Virgil forcefully shoved the embarrassment panic creeping up down his throat. “Well, I thought how cool it’d be, as a new type of tease, to write song parodies of nursery rhymes, but make them tickle related!”

 Virgil’s stomach twisted in a pleasant coil as he sat in complete shock. Surely not. “I, uh-“

 “You wanna hear some?” he asked, bouncing up and down excitedly on his toes. Virgil continued to ogle as he begged his 

voice to work.

 “Um, s-sure,” he stuttered out, his voice cracking at the end.

 Roman beamed. “Perfect! Okay, so you know the song Tiny Tim, right?”

 Virgil coughed. “T-the turtle song?” Roman nodded.

 “Yep! But I changed it.” He did a strum of the ukulele before beginning to play the catchy tune. “I have a little feather,” he sang out, his voice ringing out with the chords of the instrument. “His name is Tiny Tim, I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin!” Virgil blanched at the teasing lilt in his voice. “I drank up all his laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered, his smile oh so real!” 

 Roman finished the song and looked at Virgil expectantly. Unfortunately, at that moment Virgil’s voice decided to duck out and leave him. Roman giggled at him. “Are you speechless at my talent or something?”

 Virgil, horrified, frantically willed the embarrassment away as he finally found his voice. “Oh, no, sorry. Uh, yeah no. It was good. Good,” he took a breath while rubbing the back of his neck. “Job. Yeah,” he finished lamely.

 Roman pumped his fists in excitement. “Yessss! I was super proud of it! You wanna hear another one?” Rather than wait for a response, he strummed the ukulele again. “Oh, so this tease requires a specific name for it. Do you mind if I just use yours?”

 Virgil swore he was going to have a stroke.

 “Oh I know a little lee,” he sang, this time playing a new tune. “His name is Wiggle Virgey,” he paused his singing to look at him. “Adding y’s at the end of names makes it teasy,” he explained. 

 Virgil said nothing. 

 “He is so very nice, but oh he is so giggly, and so goes his arms, and his arms go like so, and his arms are always so-oh-oh!”

 Yep. Virgil was going to die. 

 After two more verses, Roman finally finished his song and Virgil was all but willing to sell both his kidneys to disappear from this conversation.  

 “So, what did you think? That one isn’t my best, but I liked it!” Roman commented nonchalantly.

 Virgil simply stared and nodded. Roman furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

 Virgil blinked. “YeAh, why?” His voice cracked as he tried to speak. He quickly coughed to cover it up.

 “I don’t know, you just seem sick or something. You’ve been coughing an awful lot. Your face is like bright red and you’ve been oddly quiet,” said Roman. That only made Virgil blush even more. 

 “No, yeah, no I’m fine,” he answered, waving him off. “Yeah, but I really gotta go work on, um that thing, for school, see ya around.” And with that, Virgil darted out of the room for the second time, leaving Roman standing alone in utter bewilderment.

Virgil had done his very best to avoid Roman after the whole tease incident, which was difficult considering they lived under the same roof. And even worse considering Roman was the most oblivious guy on the planet. 

 Virgil was in bed, scrolling through Tumblr on his phone, when he saw another post from his favorite writer, TheLeringPrince. He felt his lee mood spike as he saw it was a new tease post. Eagerly, he tapped the post and began to read. Slowly as he read though, something seemed off. The tease post was various nursery rhymes all modified to fit into the theme of tickling. And Tiny Tim was one of them.

 Virgil’s heart began to race and his mind started spinning as he hurriedly tried to calm himself down. “No, Virgil,” he breathed out. “No, it’s just a coincidence. Roman probably stole it from this guy or maybe just thought of the same idea.” Ironically, he found himself wishing his roommate was a thief who stole credit from his favorite Tumblr user’s work, rather than admit that Roman was said favorite Tumblr user.

 But right at the bottom of the post, there was a little bold sentence that truly made Virgil’s heart stop.

 ‘And many of you have been wondering about my sudden improvement in my grammar and spelling. Well, you can thank my brand new roommate for helping me proofread all my new fics and teases!’

 What was Virgil’s luck? Of all the people on this planet of seven billion, he gets a roommate who, not only is a confident and charismatic ler who happily reads his teases and fics to Virgil, but is also the specific ler that Virgil had been daydreaming about being destroyed by for years.

 Virgil wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug whoever ordained this or punch them.

 Virgil contemplated it for a while before finally deciding to tell his anxiety to hit the road, and take this glorious opportunity by the horns. So with a deep breath, he clicked on TheLeringPrince’s profile, then DM’s, then opened his keypad.

 Immenslee_Ticklish: Hey, just wanted to say that I really like your stuff, and that you seem like a pretty cool dude. Would you want to chat sometime?’

 Immediately, he received a reply.

 TheLeringPrince: Why thank you, Immenslee. And yes, I would love to chat ;)

Days went by, and Roman and Virgil were talking through their blogs constantly. Roman had taken to teasing Virgil quite thoroughly on the platform, and Virgil obviously ate it up. Roman even mentioned wanting to meet up sometime. Virgil would be lying if he said he didn't nearly pass out at that.

 Of course they still talked in real life, only Roman didn’t know who Virgil was. Oddly enough, Virgil almost felt safer talking to his Tumblr handle rather than to him in real life. He had to laugh at that. Six months ago, Virgil would have fainted at the idea of living with his favorite ler. And now, here he was, finally having something to satiate his ever present, insatiable lee mood! And he was hiding. 

 He just wasn’t sure how to tell him! Leave his Tumblr open? Text him? Tell him through Tumblr DMs? For goodness’ sake, what was he so afraid of? This guy was clearly accepting and non judgmental about the whole thing. Most people would kill to be in this position. Well, most lees anyways.

 Little did Virgil know, but Roman was already pretty suspicious. He didn’t have any evidence of the fact, but he was pretty certain that Virgil had to have some lee in him somewhere. His blush and stutters were getting increasingly obvious and even though Roman could be an idiot, he wasn’t stupid. It took him a while to figure it out, but once he did, there was nothing stopping him. Except of course, if Virgil for some reason just didn’t want to be tickled. That was fine too. But there was something in him that made Roman sincerely doubt that was the case.

 Roman had never had a problem about being open with his fixation. He figured that if people were going to judge him based on a silly little liking, then they weren’t worth being in his life. He could understand why some people hid it, sure. It was scary to be so open about something other people found weird. But Roman just never had that fear.

 But one day, Roman got a message. It was from a follower named Immenslee_Ticklish. Now Roman recognized this user, as they often commented, liked, and reblogged alot of his works. They were great fans, and apparently very much lee themselves. And all of a sudden, after two whole years of following Roman, they decide to message him. 

 Interesting.

 But Roman ultimately decided to keep quiet about his suspicions because if Virgil wasn’t saying anything, then he didn’t want Roman to know. And Roman respected that. Even if he really wanted to tickle him.

 Turns out he didn’t have to wait much longer.

Virgil had practiced it for weeks. He knew exactly what to say, and how he was going to say it. But that all flew out the window as he stared at Roman.

 “Virgil, buddy, you’ve been staring at me for three minutes now,” commented Roman, raising an eyebrow at the man in question. “You came to tell me something.” Virgil inhaled deeply and tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. Roman gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, it’s okay. No need to be scared.” Virgil just stared at him. Roman’s heart broke for this kid, who was obviously scared out of his mind. “I promise I’m not going to be upset, or judge you, or do whatever your pretty little head is thinking might happen.

 “I’mImenseleeTicklish!” he spat out suddenly. Roman jumped in surprise, but as soon as it hit him, he grinned.

 “Oh, are you now?” he hummed, a sly smile watching the flustered boy with great amusement.

 “Wait, no, I meant like the username. I’m the user Immenslee_Ticklish. I didn’t mean it like I’m immensely ticklish, well, I might be, but-“

 Roman’s amused look caused him to stop talking. “So, yes?”

 Virgil nodded. “I’m, uh, I’m a lee. Yeah.” The two of them stared at each other, neither one breaking the deafening silence or the intense eye contact.

 “Well that’s very valuable information,” Roman stated calmly, being the first to speak, and before walking away and into the kitchen.

 Wait?! Before walking away?!

 Virgil’s mouth dropped open as he watched Roman walk off. “Wait!” he called indignantly. Roman paused, smirking away from Virgil. 

 “Yes?”

 Virgil just stared for a minute, waving his arms dramatically as if it would help him speak. “Aren’t you going to, um, do something?”

 Roman turned around to face him, as Virgil paled at seeing Roman smile darkly at him. “Like what?”

 Realization hit him like a truck, and Virgil gaped in absolute horror. He was going to make him ask, wasn’t he? Oh, this was mean. So, so, so mean. 

 But at this point the lee mood was so bad that his dignity was going to have to leave him.

 “I- were you, um,” he covered his face with his hands. “Were you gonna tickle me?”

 He could hear Roman’s evil grin. “Do you want me to?”

 “Um, yes. Please.” He swallowed harshly.

 Roman clapped. “Why look at those manners!” he praised, gleaming at the whining boy in the living room. “I would love to. But to be clear, what exactly do you want to happen?”

 “W-What do you mean?” Virgil asked, peeking from behind his hands. 

 “Tell me exactly what you want for me to do. In explicit detail, or I won’t do any of it,” cooed Roman. 

 “You’re so mean,” Virgil whined into his hands again. Roman laughed at his expense.

 “I’m waiting~” 

 Virgil glared at him through his hands. “I want you to wreck me and tease me and destroy my resolve, and I want you to do it now! Please.” He added, lest he be made to repeat his request in a more polite manner. Roman reeled back, a tad surprised at the direct request.

 “Well, good for you. I’d be happy to,” he nodded, impressed. “Very well. Meet me in your room in ten minutes~” he teased with a wink. 

 After he left, Virgil let it sink in. He was about to be ruthlessly teased and broken by his ler idol in ten minutes.

 Oh he was going to die.

Virgil’s heart thudded out of his chest as he stared up at the malicious coy smile leaning over him. He had never been so excited yet so terrified in his life. “So, darling,” cooed his captor. “Shall we begin your destruction?” Roman’s voice lowered significantly into a husky tone that sent shivers down Virgil’s spine. He tugged on his restraints, waves of excitement and panic flooding his body, and feeding his lee mood from before. He had waited years. Years and years and years for this day. To be in this position, and about to get wrecked into oblivion. He had no idea what Roman was going to do, but he was excitedly terrified.

 Roman took a single finger and began aimlessly swirling around Virgil’s belly, going in zigzag patterns, curlicues, and idle shapes while he rested his head on Virgil’s chest. Virgil’s breath hitched, the gentle touches not quite tickling, but was setting an amazing precedent for what was about to take place. Roman let out a deep breath, purposely aiming it for Virgil’s neck, rewarding him with a satisfying squeal as the man scrunched up his shoulders as much as he could.

 “I have a dilemma, Virgil,” sighed Roman melodramatically. “I feel like, since you’ve waited all this time for some expert ler to completely wreck you, destroy you, and undo your very resolve, that you ought to have a good experience, hm?” he commented, glancing up to look at Virgil’s wobbly smile. “I mean you’ve been so patient! It’d feel criminal to deprive you of the best possible experience. Don’t you agree?” He paused, waiting for a reply while still mindlessly twisting his finger on the pale expanse of skin, but all Virgil did was squeak softly in embarrassment.

 Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers, causing Virgil to flinch slightly. “I’ve got it!” he announced, smiling darkly. “Let’s let you choose.” 

 Virgil’s eyes widened in pure horror. “What?” 

 “Why choose your own teases, of course! Who better knows exactly how to tease and fluster you, and turn you into a giggling blushy pile of goo then yourself?” Roman enunciated his point with a few teasing pokes to his chest. Virgil squirmed in an attempt to get the pokes to hit his stomach but he had no such luck. “So, Giggles, you want to try it?”

 Virgil bit his lip and bounced his legs anxiously. “No!” he whined, his wobbly smile growing by the minute.

 Roman grinned. “No? But it’s like a choose your own adventure! You choose your own teases and tools! Won’t that be fun?” Virgil shook his head violently. Roman mock pouted. “But I think it will be fun!”

 Virgil made a strangled guttural sound in reply. “I-“

 “Yes, dear,” he urged, resting his chin on Virgil’s chest once again.

 Virgil sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. “I-I can’t tease,” he mumbled under his breath. 

 “What was that?”

 “I can’t tease!” he repeated, only slightly louder this time. Fortunately, Roman heard him.

 “Oh well, that’s not a problem, silly. You aren’t saying the teases. I am!” he replied with a smirk. Virgil peaked one eye open.

 “But I thought you said-“

 “Oh, I know what I said,” he answered, cutting Virgil off. “No, I already know what teases you chose. You don’t have to say a word.” To Virgil's confusion, he pulled out his phone. It wasn’t until Roman started scrolling and grinning that Virgil’s eyes widened in panicked realization.

 “No, no, no, NO!” Virgil called out, bouncing in anticipation. He tried lunging for the phone but his bonds held him back.

 Roman pretended not to hear him. “Hm, let’s see. Posts, then notes, then-“ Roman grinned up at Virgil. “Ah yes, reblogged by Immenselee_ticklish! Oh, look there’s a comment too!”

 “No! No, don’t read the comment!”

 “It says, ‘Ahhhh!! Oh gosh, I’m blushing so hard!!’ Hold up.” Roman turned to look up at Virgil who was fire engine red. He smirked. “Would you look at that. Anyway, it continues to say, ‘I would die if anyone said this to me!’ And then there’s a blushing face.” 

 He smirked again as he faced Virgil. “So, would you say you’ve died?” Virgil whined longingly. Roman nodded while looking back at his phone. “I’d say yes.”

 Roman continued to scroll only for his eyes to light up in delight. “Oh looky here!” Virgil slammed his eyes shut, not daring to. 

 “No, no, no, no.”

 “Virgil look! It’s a gif! Oh wow.” 

 Oh yeah. Virgil definitely wasn’t going to look. He was strong, he was resilient, and nothing could break him!

 “Aww and they’re getting their bellybutton tickled! Isn’t that your most favorite spot in the whole wide world?”

 Um, yeah. It was easy, mind over matter. He wouldn’t look. Easy.

 “Hey! And it’s your best friend! Mr. Toothbrush!”

 Yeah, he... What was he saying?

 “Roman, please,” he begged, eyes still clamped shut. The endless teases were killing him. His ever present lee mood had grown into a ravenous monster that he thought would never be satiated. His body screamed for tickles. It was more than a want, or even a craving. It was a need at this point. And Roman knew that and it only fueled his evil ler facade all the more. 

  “Aw, poor baby. Don’t worry, we’ll start soon,” he cooed.

 Roman made Virgil lie there, flustered and helpless, and oh so terribly lee, and wait as he read out tease after tease that Virgil reblogged from his Tumblr, and even read the comments from the lee himself.  Virgil wished with every second of every minute spent lying on that bed he had never made that Tumblr account. 

 After ten or so teases, Roman finally, mercifully, put the phone away. Virgil sighed in relief. Finally! He was going to be tickled to his limits, then past them, then have them pushed even further. He didn’t just want to be broken. He didn’t just want to be destroyed. No, he wanted so much more.

 Roman marched up to the table and placed both hands on Virgil’s thighs. “So, a little birdie told me you like baby talk,” he teased. Virgil blushed, which Roman took for a yes. “So would a, oh I don’t know, little kitchy, kitchy, coo would get you all flustered, hm? A little-“ his voice dropped an octave. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~” his face morphed to a maniacal grin. 

 Virgil's face turned crimson as he wiggled around on the table. “Noho!” He barked out a laugh. Roman raised his eyebrows in surprise.

 “No? Hmm. What about nursery rhymes, huh? You sure liked the ones I sang to you earlier this month! Do you want to hear some of those?  ‘Cause I got some good ones~” Roman whipped out a feather seemingly out of nowhere and waved it teasingly in front of Virgil’s nose. Virgil yelped at the sensation.

 “I have a little feather,” sang out Roman, his voice rising and falling with the feather. “His name is Tiny Tim. I used him on my lee, to see if he would grin.” He winked at Virgil who just blushed deeper. “I drank up all the laughter, it made him buck and squeal, and now he’s nice and flustered,” Another wink. “His smile is so real.” 

 Virgil was already softly giggling at the song, and it only encouraged Roman to keep going. “You got a little giggle button, right? I have another fun song, just. for. him!” he cheered, punctuating each word with a poke to his bellybutton, making Virgil squeal each time. 

 He took the feather and ran it in a large teasy circle all around the vast expanse of vulnerable tummy. “Ring around the belly, a button full of jelly,” he heard Virgil snort when the feathers hit a particular spot on his waistline. “-tickle, tickle, they all fall down!” Roman ended the verse with several flicks of the fluffy feather to Virgil’s bellybutton, causing him to buck and laugh, but it was still technically soft tickles. Virgil didn’t want soft tickles right now.

 “Rohohoho,” he whined through the giggles. Roman ignored him. 

 “Let’s see. Oh, here’s another favorite of mine!” He cleared his throat and lifted the feather again. “Oh head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes! Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes~” He ran the feather all over the respective places, and it didn’t tickle much, but Roman’s plan was working. Virgil was getting more and more flustered, and more and more ticklish. 

 “Oh feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins. Feet, tummies, arms and chins, arms and chins~” Roman watched in glee as Virgil’s face turned darker and darker with each song, and how even though the tickling was so light, his giggles were still sharp.

 All of a sudden, with zero warning, Roman ditched the feather and attacked Virgil’s tummy with all ten fingers. “Oh, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes! She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes-“ Virgil fell into deep belly laughter as he thrashed and pulled desperately. “She’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless, she’ll be tickling Virgil senseless when she comes!” 

 Virgil had never felt more embarrassed in his life, but that made the tickling so much more fun. After two more verses, Roman stopped. Virgil whined again at the loss of contact. 

 Roman chuckled. “You really are a hopeless lee, aren’t you?”

 Virgil scrunched his nose. “Shut up.”

 Roman’s eyebrows raised in an accusatory way. “Do you want to say that again?”

 “What? Shut up?” snarked Virgil, trying to wind him up to get wrecked and forced to apologize, but unfortunately, Roman saw right through his plan.

 “Wow. You really are desperate. Stooping so low as to provoke me to lash out and wreck you right this minute?” Roman tisked lightly. “Imagine! You honestly think that I’m going to fall for the oldest trick in the book? I hate to break it to you, Stormcloud, but I’m far more experienced than you think I am,” he added, shaking his head in disapproval. “I ought to make you wait longer just for that.”

 Virgil gasped and shook his head desperately. “No, no, please no! I’m sorry!”

 Roman shook his head again. “Poor little lee. So desperate you’ve lost your dignity. Here you are, begging like this for me to so horribly wreck you until you can’t even remember your own name.” Despite his words of disapproval, he smiled. “Oh course, I don’t blame you. I am very talented so I understand your eagerness. For that reason, I will grant mercy and not punish you for your lousy attempts at brattiness.”

 Virgil let out the biggest sigh of relief imaginable. At last! He was going to be wrecked!

 “But I still have one more game before we start.”

 Virgil threw his head back onto the bed with such a force it almost hurt. “Oh my gosh, Roman please,” he begged, whining at a new frequency.

 Roman sighed. “One more! You can do it. I have to make sure your ticklish little body is at optimal sensitivity! So, here’s an easy game to finish you off.” He walked around to the side of the bed. “Just gotta warm you up,” he winked before wiggling his fingers menacingly above Virgil. Virgil asked, and sucked in his stomach, but Roman simply drew in closer. The fingers were so tantalizingly close to the tickle spot, and Virgil swore he felt them already. And in his mind, he pleaded and begged with Roman to hurry up and get on with it already, but on the outside he was completely stunned into silence. 

 Until Roman did a fake out.

 Roman launched his wiggling fingers at Virgil full speed without any sort of warning, and Virgil lost it. He laughed, he snorted, he cackled, and he squealed. He jerked and thrashed all over his limited free space for a whole minute until he realized. Roman’s hands were behind his back, as he watched Virgil with the most evil look you could imagine.

 “You're awful!” screeched Virgil, both mortified by his own reaction, and furious at Roman’s trick. Roman laughed out loud.

 “Hmm, okay, okay. I’ll wreck you now. Besides, I can’t just keep you here, endlessly teasing and torturing you forever?” He paused with a smirk. “Actually-“

 “Roman!” Virgil cried out, laughing in both frustration at his lee mood, and anticipation from what was coming.

 Roman laughed at his panic. “I’m just kidding, jeez. You poor lee. Alright, I’ll wreck you, on the one condition you tell me your worst spots.”

 Virgil’s eyes turned to saucers. “I-what?”

 “You heard me! Give me those death spots or else no tickles~” he sang, thinking the nerves were from his tease.

 But strangely, Virgil turned more bashful, rather than flustered. It was almost a sheepish look on his face that replaced the embarrassment. That certainly got Roman’s attention.

 “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern. Virgil scrunched his face up and looked down.

 “I-I well, I don’t know what my worst spots are,” he replied with a shy smile.

 Roman was confused for about two seconds before it dawned on him.  “You-“ he stared in utter wonderment. “You‘ve never tickled before, have you?”

 Virgil’s face flushed under the attention. “Well, yeah, no not really,” he mumbled sheepishly.

 Oh, this was a game changer. Roman beamed. “You mean to tell me, I’m your first time?” Virgil smiled again, and nodded hesitantly. Roman had never been so excited in his life. “Well then, I guess we have work to do!” he commented, a wicked grin and a twinkle shining in his eye.

 Roman turned and walked down to the end of the bed, clicking his tongue as he examined the body in front of him. “I suppose the best thing to do would be to either go bottom to top, or top to bottom.” He tilted his head up at Virgil while smiling. “Would you by any chance have a preference?”

 Virgil huffed. “I guess, I don’t know. Bottom to top?” he suggested, more or so not caring as he really just wanted to be wrecked already. Roman clapped.

 “Perfect! That means I get to play with your cute little feet!” he cheered. Virgil blushed. Roman held tight of the right foot’s ankle and took the same pointer finger and carefully slid it from the tippy top of the toes all the way down to the heel. Virgil immediately started his giggles anew, wiggling his upper body at the light touches. “Oh good! It seems you’re ticklish here! What else can we try?” 

 Roman soon added the other four fingers into the fray and began ruthlessly scratching up and down and all around the soft tender arches, making Virgil snort and fall into deeper laughter at the feeling. He tickled all around the foot, being very thorough and detailed in his methods, making sure not one inch of ticklish skin was left unscathed. Then, without warning, he moved up to the toes. He wiggled each little toe and scolded them if they curled up. Eventually, he pulled them back and gave them a good scratching underneath as punishment for their misbehavior. Virgil thrashed like nobody’s business, finally getting exactly what he wanted, and it was so much better then he had ever thought. And he certainly didn’t complain when Roman informed him that his other foot was getting left out, and needed the same tickly treatment.

 After both feet were thoroughly assaulted (Roman may have had to go back to the right foot again, it seemed to be getting lonely),  he spidered his fingers all the way up to Virgil’s knees. Virgil smiled in anticipation, bouncing his leg as he waited. 

 “Ah yes, the knees. Such an underrated tickle spot! Very few people think about the knees being so terribly ticklish, but they can be! It all starts with this little pressure point, riiiight here.” Roman began rapidly wheezing the muscle right above Virgil knee, making him fall into deep laughter. “Oh wonderful!” shouted Roman above the loud laughter. “It seems as if your knees are just as horridly sensitive as I thought!” His squeezing fingers quickly switched to spidering ones, and darted right on the underneath of his knees, sending Virgil snorting.

 Roman awed at the adorable sounds. “Aww, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Are my tickly, tickly tickles making you giggle, hm?” he cooed, relishing in the deep red color that was Virgil’s face and the tiny snorts mixed in with the hysterical giggles.

 “Nohohohoho!” Virgil giggled out, trying to kick his legs but the restraints keeping every inch of ticklish skin in place.

 “No?” questioned Roman. “Well, that’s a shame! Why don’t we try something else then,” he pondered and immediately grabbed the young man’s thighs, squeezing sporadically and rapidly every area of muscle. Virgil’s eyes bulged out as he flung himself to sit up right and cackle.

 Roman’s eyes lit up with mischief at the extremity of Virgil’s reaction. “Oh, what's this? Does this tickle? Are you ticklish here?” he asked, the teasing lilt in his voice making the ruthless squeezing at his thighs all the worse. Virgil fell back on to the bed to wheeze with laughter when Roman moved up closer to his hips. “Virgil!” scolded Roman. “Hello! I’m talking to you! Does this tickle?” he asked again, not for one second stopping the wretched attack on the loathsomely sensitive muscle.

 When Virgil still didn’t reply, Roman felt a spike of worry, and slowed his squeezing fingers just a little. Virgil’s wheezy laughter died down, until it was more or less hysterical giggles. 

 “Yes!” Virgil called out. Roman was confused for a minute until he remembered the question he had asked a few minutes earlier. He took his hands off his legs, leaving Virgil limp and giggly. 

 “Oh good! See I guessed it did, but I was just checking,” he winked. “Congratulations, Virgil. I think you might have your first death spot.” 

 Virgil weakly held up a thumbs up, his giddy smile bright enough to blind someone. Roman smiled at him softly. “How about we take a break?” So he sat next to Virgil on the bed, gently rubbing his shin comfortingly, waiting for Virgil to regain all the breath he’d lost until finally-

 “Um, I think I’m ready to go again,” piped up the younger man. Roman grinned. 

 “You sure?” Virgil nodded eagerly. Roman leaned next to Virgil’s ear, making him squeak. Oh he’d have to remember that. 

 “Well then,” he purred, his voice sending shivers down Virgil’s spine. “Allow me to continue your destruction.” He peered down the bed where Virgil was stretched out, and examined it carefully like a puzzle. He walked down the side to the right of his hips. “Now if my memory serves me, correct me-” Roman began, but Virgil barked out a laugh. Roman glared at him. “What?”

 “Dude, what did you say?” he asked, laughing again. Roman crossed his arms.

 “If my memory serves me, correct me. It’s a saying!” Virgil burst out laughing again. “What?!”

 “The saying is, ‘If my memory serves me, correctly,’ not correct me,” he teased, still laughing at Roman’s miss interpretation. 

 “Okay, yeah, laugh it up, Virgil,” he retorted, immediately squeezing his right thigh again. Promptly the teasing man burst into laughter at the feeling, and proceeded to howl on the bed. “Don’t correct me again!” he playfully scolded before ceasing the tickling. 

 Roman crawled up on the bed in between Virgil legs in hopes of being able to navigate better. “Now, I say we try hips next. Some people overlook it, but they look wonderfully ticklish to me~” he sang, already the tone giving Virgil the giggles. Roman grinned at the pink color once again rising to his cheeks. “Aww, does mentioning the tickly tickles making you a little neeeervous?” he sang again, whilst skimming the skin of his waist and pant line. Virgil’s giggles greatly increased from both the tickling and the teasing alike, as he began wiggling around in the bed.

 Roman’s scratching fingers followed the wiggly hips with great ease, smiling in adoration as he listened to the sweet soft giggles come from his captive. “You’re adorable,” he commented without really thinking. 

 “Nuhnuhnuhuhu uhuhuhuh!” the giggling man protested, yet his denial only further proved Roman’s point.

 “Yeah huh!” argued Roman. “Alright enough softness, I want to watch you scream.” He put on his best evil ler face as he watched Virgil turn a bright crimson at the threat.

 Roman crawled up further until he was practically sitting on Virgil’s hips. “So, let’s test the waters for what are the vast expanse that is Virgil’s tickle spots, shall we?” Virgil pulled up his legs out of reflex, but they were blocked by Roman’s back. He whined.

 “Oh, whatever is the matter, dear?” he cooed, leaning in so close Virgil could feel his breath on his neck and ear. The man made a strangled noise in reply. “I’m sorry, darling, I don’t speak lee. Would you mind rephrasing your statement?” 

 Virgil just shut his eyes, trying to smother the wobbly grin that was slowly creeping up onto his face. Roman took that as a sign to continue. 

 He spidered his fingers up to Virgil’s sides, and kept them there, smiling as Virgil shuffled all over the bed in anticipation. “Gohohoho ohohohon, alreheheady!” he giggled out.

 “Is that anyway to ask for something?” Roman playfully scolded moments before digging into the boy’s sides. Virgil bucked and burst into giggles, thrashing and pulling. Roman didn’t stop for even a second, mercilessly tickling, squeezing and scratching all over the sides and even migrating to the soft skin of the belly. Virgil was in proper hysterics and was loving every minute of it.

 “Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing! What? What’s the matter? Are you ticklish?” Roman teased, digging into the lower belly. Virgil squealed, and fell into even deeper laughter as Roman took to blowing raspberry after raspberry onto Virgil’s poor ticklish tummy. Virgil was in tickly heaven, for sure, but he still hadn’t been broken yet. And that was fine, but his growing hunger still hadn’t been filled, and he couldn’t help but wish deep down that there was somewhere to truly make him scream. He contemplated asking Roman to go for his thighs again.

 But then.

 As Roman paused the tickling on his sides and began to feel around, something happened. 

 Virgil could only possibly describe it as maybe a jolt of euphoric electricity that shocked him into the pit of his stomach. Something that found the roaring lion that was his lee mood and slapped it in the face. Something that sent shivers to his spine and butterflies to his stomach. Something that made him shriek at the mere feeling of Roman’s presence. If Roman’s dastardly laughter upon finding the spot was any indication, Virgil was screwed.

 “Well, looky here,” he noted, looking up at Virgil with a gleam in his eye, further confirming the reality that Virgil was about to experience. “It seems we’ve found something.” 

 Roman tested the spot again: a rib, nestled warmly in between a tiny layer of fat, and the beginning of his armpit. He sharply poked the rib, eliciting a similar shriek as before. Virgil’s eyes grew like saucers as he fought with his own mind on how he felt. Was he terrified? Was the overwhelming amount of ticklish sensations about to course through his body like an electric current terrifying? Or was he excited? That after all these years of begging and pleading for someone to come into his life and do this very thing to him? 

 Virgil didn’t have time to decide, as Roman promptly dug in.

 Virgil said he wanted to scream, and scream he did. His body was too overwhelmed to even thrash at this point, no, it merely fell limp and took every bit of torture Roman was giving to it. Roman took his pointer finger and thumb, making them into a claw motion, and pinching all over the bone. He pinched up and down, left to right, and repeated the sequence, soaking in every plea and beg and cry from Virgil. He wiggled in between the bone, and even took to scratching the armpits as well. Virgil was happily losing his mind. But it wasn’t over.

 No, because out of nowhere, Roman pulled from under the bed a bottle of oil, and immediately began pouring it into his hands. Virgil greedily sucked in the oxygen as he waited for Roman to start again. His eyes followed him, watching Roman complete his moves with an eagerness about him. He was ready.

 Virgil only had to wait a minute longer before Roman took his sweet time, slowly covering every inch of both armpits in the slippery liquid, purposely sliding his fingers and nails in such a way to make Virgil start to laugh. And then with both hands, he dug in again. 

 Oh, if he thought it was bad before, no, this was true torture. The oil made the fingers glide pristinely on the sensitive skin, and thereby ticking seemingly everywhere at once. Roman still concentrated on squeezing both top rib bones on either side at the same time, while allowing the nails to scratch along the armpits and other ribs as he did it. 

 And Virgil screamed. He screamed and screamed louder than he had ever before. He couldn’t even be concerned at the fact they were living in an apartment, and if they neighbors would be worried. Virgil screeched at the top of his lungs, his voice no longer even saying words or please at this point, just pure unshackled ecstasy in waves unmeasurable. He screamed and laughed his voice hoarse, kicking and tugging in desperation to escape the torture he was being subjected to.

 “So,” commented Roman nonchalantly, yet very loudly to be heard over the booming laughter. “I was wondering if you could give me a quick performance review. You know, it is my first time and all.”

 “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

 “Okay, so that’s not too bad. Anything else?”

 Virgil silently screamed as he felt Roman vibrate his fingers into both bones once more.

 “Oh good! Well, I appreciate your input, thank you.”

 Virgil was loving every solitary second of this, after all, this is what he had wanted. He wanted exactly this. But, unfortunately, he needed to breathe. So he called out.

 “YEL-“ he stopped mid screech, his own laughter cutting him off. Roman stopped immediately. 

 “Was that yellow?” he asked, face contorting with worry. Virgil didn’t answer at first, only focused on taking in as much oxygen as he could get. 

 “Yeheheah,” he replied, the leftover giggles still dying out.

 Roman’s evil ler face melted as a fond one replaced it. “Wow, I’m impressed. That’s definitely your death spot, and you only called out yellow. I could never last as long as you did,” he marveled. 

 Even with as winded as Virgil was, he was still trying to tease back. “Oho, so you have a death spot, then?” he teased with a smirk. Roman blushed.

 “Oh shut up. Just so you know, you still technically haven’t called red yet,” he retorted cockily. Virgil nodded before laying his head down for a minute to rest. “Do you want water?” Roman asked him. 

 Virgil shook his head. “No, I’m almost done. I’d rather not get up then get back down.” His insatiable lee mood was shrinking drastically. But, there was one more thing he wanted. “So, um,” he looked up at Roman sheepishly. “Can I do a request?” 

 Roman smiled fondly. “Of course. This is your session after all.” 

 Virgil fidgeted as much as he could despite his hands being tied. “So, I kind of have a favorite spot. Like, after you tickled me. I realized I might have a favorite.”

 Roman’s heart practically burst on the spot. “Oh yeah? Let me hear it.”

 Virgil wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, and stayed quiet for a minute. Roman chuckled. “Come on little lee, I can’t help you out if you don’t ask,” he cooed, gently spidering his fingers on the tops of his feet, making him let out a quick giggle at the touch. 

 “Ohohokay, okay. Um,” he looked away bashfully. “Can you go back to, back to my stomach? You, you can tease. Too. If you want, or whatever,” he added quickly, still refusing to look Roman in the eye. Roman beamed.

 “Why, I would love to.”

 Roman sat down next to Virgil, and actually undid his cuffs, much to Virgil’s surprise. “Alright, now keep your arms up,” he whispered, sending a pink flush to his cheeks. 

 “W-what?” he giggled shyly. Roman poked his tummy. 

 “You heard me. You gotta keep them up aaaaall by yourself.” 

 Virgil giggled again, and cautiously raised his arms above his head and gripped the headboard. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

 Roman nodded with a smile and began lightly skittering his fingernails all over Virgil’s quivering tummy. Virgil immediately burst into soft, sweet giggles, the ones he could probably stop if he tried, but definitely didn’t want to, and rocked back and forth onto the bed. Roman kept the fingers teasing his sides gently, then lifted up his shirt slightly and started peppering cute little kisses all over the pale skin. Virgil squealed lightly and giggled slightly harder at the wonderfully maddening feeling, drinking in every bit of feeling he could. 

 Finally after about ten minutes, Virgil slowly lowered his arms from the headboard and Roman stopped. Overwhelming exhausted overcame him like an ocean and he yawned. “Thank you, Roman. This was the best day of my life.” Roman smiled at the compliment.

 “Why I’m so happy it was, Virgil. We will certainly do it again.” He stood up to leave, but Virgil grabbed his arm. 

 “Stay with me?” he asked, pulling on his arm like a child. Roman chuckled.

 “Of course.”

 And the two of them napped together, each so peaceful and happy in that they found each other, and waking up wondering if it was all just a dream.

#tickle fic #pineapple anon #pineapple writing #pineapple fics #sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!roman #ticklish!virgil #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020 day 1 - stuck with you . title: Behind Your Curtains . summary: Feudal AU- She's the daughter of the Daimyou and he was design to be her personal guard. They had already accepted the obligations that came with their titles, but life had other plans for them.  . a/n: HAPPY SASUSAKU MONTH!! Ahh the best month of the year is finally here and not even the quarantine will ruin our party! I have a lot of nice things planned and I can't wait to see our tag flourishing! Well, enough of my rambling! I hope you enjoy this one (even though it's a little too long). I started this fic a couple of years ago and only now it felt right to continue! Let's see how it goes!! . Rated: K+ sudare:  are screens or blinds. They protect the inhabitants of the building not only from the elements, but also from the eyes of outsiders. In old tales, a court lady would conceal herself behind a screen when speaking with a man outside her immediate family. She could peep through it and see her interlocutor, but because he had to remain at a distance from it, he could not see her.

.

They were all gathered at the main room of the Haruno palace when he first laid his dark eyes on her delicate silhouette.

__

Times were difficult in Konohagakure. Due to the new political scenario unwrapping around the village, both he and his older brother had been called that morning by the Daimyou so they could be designated to their new positions within royal guard. Itachi, the smartest, had been promoted as chief of the royal family’s personal guard and Sasuke, the fastest, was now only responsible for the princess’ safety. Those were very honourable positions and only the best warriors could be selected to be so close to the most important family of the Fire country, and if anything, both the Uchiha brothers knew their parents would be proud of them if were they still alive.

The three men in the room were now discussing new strategies regarding the newly acquired positions, and every now and then, Sasuke caught himself sparing quick glances at the princess who sat obediently next to her father. For she was the newest object of his protection, his objective mind couldn’t help but try his best to find out whatever detail he could in order to succeed in his newest mission. Even if she was hidden behind her sudare, it was possible to tell that the rumours that travelled around the village regarding her secret and royal beauty were, somehow, true. Her figure was small and delicate; and if anything, he carefully observed how her body remained still and collected during the entire meeting.

She is a princess, he thought. In the same way he was trained to fight and kill, she was trained to obey and endure long hours without doing as much as take a deep, noisy breath. She could wear the most precious jewels of the entire country, and her ceremonial clothes could’ve been made with the most expensive silks her father could afford, but still, he knew better than to believe her life was only filled with luxuries and royal pleasures.

No, life wasn’t easy for her, he knew. However, the hardships that came with her social status meant nothing to him. Even if he was now bound to stay by her side during long periods of the day, right now, Sasuke had no desire in offering her his condolences or expressing any of his feelings in front of her. He would carry no pity in his eyes whenever he looked at her, for she is still graced with many things normal people can’t even dream of.

In his eyes, the only feeling prevailing was his sense of responsibility. He is a proud warrior, and his mission within those walls was solely to keep her safe given the new rebellious rumours that had been growing around the village.

His sword is loyal to the Daimyou, and he certainly had no time to waste on the princess’ emotions.

Whenever he looked at her through those bamboo curtains, he wondered if she also understood her part in that whole scenario. Sasuke couldn’t tell whether or not she could see what he was doing— what he was thinking— every time his dark pearls drifted to her, but there was an odd feeling growing inside his chest whenever he looked at her. He could sense her own stare on him, and for some reason he couldn’t quite name, he could feel a mutual agreement talked through hidden glances.

She is the princess and he is the warrior that is supposed to protect her.

There was no logical reason to cross that line given their positions, and certainly, there was no desire to disrupt the balance created by the rules of their respective duties within the Fire country.

“I’m counting on you to keep my daughter safe.” The Daimyou said, his dull, green eyes set on his dark ones as he spoke with all the authority given by his title and all the concern of a father.

Sasuke nodded, bowing his head down in respect. He looked at the princess one more time, and was surprised to see her own silhouette bowing down to him, too. “Thank you for serving my father. From now on, I’ll be at your care.”

Her voice was soft and delicate, catching him completely by surprise. There were people who said the princess’ voice was as serene as the prettiest of the melodies, but if anything, Sasuke believed her voice to be ordinarily enjoyable. The sound felt comfortable in his ear, and judging by her father’s expression, her words meant more than a simple courtesy.

There wasn’t much he could tell about the princess yet, but he had a feeling that, soon, he would eventually learn more about the secrets she hides behind her curtains.

His eyes didn’t leave her, and cordially, he bowed down in respect.

xxxx

It didn’t take long for him to get used to the softness of her voice.

–––

By the end of their second week together, Sasuke had already memorized her— and consequently, his— schedule. They would meet every day after her breakfast, and right after that, the maids would take her to first of many lessons of the day. At first, he believed he would eventually end up seeing the princess’ mysterious face while she was lectured, but soon, he learned that his eyes would be denied of such privilege, for he would always stay outside of whatever room she was in. Even if he had tried to enter a couple of times, saying he was only following orders, there was this old, crinkled lady that would always stop him in his tracks, telling him that his eyes were not worthy of seeing the princess during the practice of her feminine arts, whatever that could possibly mean.

He tried to argue a couple of times, but in the end, his will didn’t prevail against that woman’s strictness. Eventually, the Uchiha settled for sitting outside the door with his guard up, blocking the passage of anyone who tried to interrupt the princess or cause her any harm. His so observant eyes were denied the secret image of the Daimyou’s daughter, however, due to the thin paper that sealed the walls, his ears captured every word that left her lips.

It was not like he had planned on listening to their conversation or anything like that, but that was the only thing left for him to make sure the princess was, indeed, safe. After a while, he realized that he was able to tell a lot about her simply based on the tone of her voice whenever she answered a question. The changes were barely perceptible, but for a skilful warrior such as himself, her real emotions were hidden within every word she pronounced. He knew when she was sad or when she was angry, but he couldn’t really tell when she was happy or excited. Such feelings were harder to detect, he realized, mostly because they seemed to be rare in her life.

The princess wasn’t happy. He had never seen her face, but he could bet his own sword that tears were more common on her face than a sincere smile. He had never heard her laughing, let alone giggling, and if he were to be honest, the only time he had actually heard her voice holding some positiveness was when she ended up correcting her instructor after the older woman had mistaken the kanjis. On that day, not even he could suppress the smirk that grew on his lips, for that woman certainly deserved to be countered after the many times she yelled at both of them for stupid things.

For a reason he couldn’t quite understand, though, the Uchiha was tired of listening to her mean words towards the princess. No matter how hard she seemed to try to follow the lessons, it was never enough. 

That’s not how a princess must behave. You’ll never find yourself a husband if you keep up with such childish act. Your father would be ashamed of you.

Harsh words left those old, chapped lips every day, and if anything, the princess would always answer politely with a Forgive me, sensei or I’ll try harder next time. She didn’t deserve such things, but Sasuke figured he was not the one to judge. As a warrior, he had no idea of how she should actually behave or what abilities she was supposed to master. Her world was incredibly strange to him, who saw and heard things from a completely different point of view.

He couldn’t care less about things such as etiquette or the proper way of serving tea. Even if those were traits that probably impressed the royalty and the rich people, common men such as himself knew better than to believe women should be evaluated by the way they held a fan. Were the princess able to wield an axe or even heal the wounded, then he would certainly be impressed. 

However, he knew he would never have any say in what the Daimyou’s daughter should do or know in order to be worthy of her title. He was nothing but a mere warrior whose more valuable possession was his sword.

His opinion didn’t belong to her world.

Still, he couldn’t help but take the side of the stranger he was destined to protect.

“We should stop here, ohime-sama. The lesson is over.” Her instructor said, no sign of empathy detected in her words.

“Hai.”

The sadness in her voice was the last thing he noticed before standing up and straightening his clothes. Her next lesson was about to begin, and unconsciously, he just hoped for her day to end already.

xxxx

The first time she actually called him by the name caught him off guard.

––

After the many complaints received by the Daimyou regarding his daughter’s lack of compromise during the lessons in the past few months, the concerned father allowed the princess to take some time to decide on what should be done about that. Her father, for what Sasuke could tell, has always been a decent man, whose number one priority was her well-being. Of course, he also understood the implications of her position and the importance behind every skill taught to her by the old women of the palace; and he knew how that would affect her future in a couple of years. More than anyone, perhaps, that poor man knew how important those lessons were, especially because those women would be able to teach her certain things that, as a man, he could never truly understand.

Sakura needed those women in her life, even if she couldn’t really see the reason why, for she needed that kind of guidance in order to blossom into the perfect princess they all want her to be.

She needed to be more feminine. Even a stoic warrior such as himself could understand that. So, imagine his surprise when, on a summer morning, the servants brought her small, bamboo prison to watch the morning practice of the royal guard.

“The princess is watching you, little brother.” Itachi started, a smirk on his face as they spared together. “You better not lose in front of her.”

“Tch. You say that as if knowing that would make any difference.”

“Oh, come on…” He dodged an attack, his long, tied hair dancing in the air. "You have to be at least excited with your job. You are protecting the princess of the Fire Country. All the others are jealous of you.”

“If you all care so much about the princess, maybe you should spend more time training in order to take my position.”

“Oh, so are you saying it wouldn’t matter if someone else took your position away from you?"

At his older brother’s words, his glance quickly shifted to the princess. Just like before, he couldn’t see her face, but he knew her eyes were on him, and for a reason he could not quite name, knowing those hidden orbs of hers were watching his moves ignited a certain confidence inside him. It was not like it gave him more strength or a new reason to beat his brother, but it certainly made him want to show more of his own world to the imprisoned princess.

Call it possessiveness or even an exaggerated sense of care, but deep inside, Sasuke didn’t want someone else doing his job. It wasn’t because he had grown fond of the princess or anything like that, but the delicacy of their situation had created an unspoken bond between the two of them. In the same way she understood his position, he also understood hers, and in silence, both of them created an intimacy neither of them ever believed to be possible. He was there for her when everyone else judged her, and she was there for him when the world seemed to be comparing him to his older brother.

It was hard to explain for it made no sense, but it was real, nonetheless. 

So real that it made him unconsciously want to show her how strong he actually was. And even if he wasn’t truly aware of such will, that was exactly what he did.

In a matter of seconds, his attacks grew more precise and aggressive, catching his older brother by surprise. The impact created by their wooden swords created an echo that spread throughout the training grounds, making everyone stop to look at the them. Even with all those amazed eyes on them, Sasuke could only care about hers at that moment. His heart was beating faster, his muscles were perfectly responding to his commands, and for the first time, it became easy to detect Itachi’s own openings during his counter attacks.

He was going to beat his brother. He was going to win and show everyone he was the only one fit for his position by her side.

One, final and precise blow was the last thing that took him to defeat his brother. He didn’t really know how or when it happened, but soon, Itachi’s eyes were looking at him from the ground. There was a surprised look on his face, and dust stuck to his cheeks due to sweat. His wooden sword laid far from his grip, and when a smile crossed his brother’s face, Sasuke realized he had, indeed, won.

“You sure didn’t let the princes down, little brother.”

“Tch, stop with this nonsense. I didn’t know the sword had hit your head.”

A small wave of happiness took over the younger Uchiha. As he panted, a smirk crossed his lips before he used his free hand to brush away the strands of hair from his face. For the first time in what felt like years, he was the winner of their sparing session, and that felt oddly right considering the unexpected guest that had her royal eyes on him. The princess was there, still hidden behind her curtains, but her presence alone was strong enough to shift the entire atmosphere around them. Sparing in front of her made things more exciting, and even if he would never admit his selfish feelings out loud, having her there made him want to win like never before. She gave him a new sense of duty— a new sense of power— that was, at the same time, fierce and pure.

So, this is how it feels to fight for someone, he thought. So, this is how it feels to fight for the princess.

From that moment on, Sasuke understood the real meaning behind their silent bond. He would fight for her and she would watch over him. He would protect her and she would offer him a reason to win.

All of his victories now belonged to her in the same way her eyes and her attention now belonged to him.

With a new fulfilling sensation taking over his proud heart, Sasuke spared her a respectful glance before turning his attention back to his brother. He helped Itachi get back on his feet, ignoring whatever he was saying regarding his connection with the princess, as he took a deep, relaxing breath. There was a soft breeze brushing his face, and even if he was expecting more sneering words from his older sibling, Sasuke was surprised at the supportive squeeze of Itachi’s hand on his shoulder. 

“You did really well, Sasuke. You’ve grown a lot.” He smiled, dropping his hand to his side and resting it on his hip. “Maybe I should take our training more seriously from now on.”

“Hn, maybe you should or else I’ll steal your spot, captain.”

The way that last word rolled out of his younger brother’s tongue made Itachi turn his attention back to the others around them. The warriors seemed to be dividing their attention between the siblings and the princess, clearly forgetting about their own sparing partners. For the moment, the training session seemed to have reached its end, as the warriors were only waiting for their captain’s words to make it official. And at last, that was exactly what he did.

“That’s it for today. Good job, everyone.” Itachi said, clapping his hands and looking around at his men. “Take a break now and start your own patrolling shifts. A-squad, you’ll take the front gate tonight and the others will surround the palace.”

“Hai" The dirty men said in unison, politely saluting their captain.

“Oh, and Sasuke…” He started, his voice now slower in somewhat of a mockery tone. “I believe the princess is waiting for you.”

All the men with swords, including his brother, started to walk away, heading out to their own dorms. In theory, Sasuke was supposed to follow them, but since the princess herself was mere feet away, the younger Uchiha decided to let her know he was only going to retrieve his sword before starting his real job.

Quickly, he crossed the training grounds and soon found himself bowing down in front of the princess’ sudare. Once again, he could feel her eyes on him, feeling proud of the first victory he had dedicated to her. Unlike her handmaidens that looked at him with shallow interest, he could feel that the princess herself was ecstatic to be there.

At least, that was what his heart was telling him.

“Good morning, Ohime-sama. I shall retrieve my sword before I can escort you to your next appointment.”

“The princess will be waiting for you.” One of the handmaidens spoke, catching him by surprise for he could swear the princess was about to answer him herself. He closed his eyes, then, and started to collect himself in order to walk away. Sasuke turned around, and when he was about to take his first step away from her, his ears captured the ordinary and comfortable sound of her voice.

“You were incredible today, Sasuke-san.”

The sound of his name rolling out of her tongue caught him by surprise, making him stop in his tracks. He knew he should just turn around and bow respectfully, but somewhere in the middle of his bewildered thoughts, the Uchiha forgot his manners. Once again, he turned to face her curtains, and apart from the surprised expression he wore, Sasuke couldn’t control his own mouth.

“Sasuke…san?” His lips were parted and there was a tender look on his eyes. He was confused, for sure, since he had no idea that she had memorized his name, but somehow, he also felt honoured.

“I-I… Forgive me for my manners.” She started rambling, clearly caught off guard by his words. “I took the liberty of calling you by your first name since both you and your brother are Uchiha and… Please, forgive me.”

Through the bamboo curtains, he could only see as she messily shook her hands as she spoke, and the clumsy way her words came out brought a soft smile to his lips. For the first time since he started working with the princess, Sasuke could tell she was feeling comfortable around him. She seemed to be happy and excited, and it was not like being called by his first name would be enough of a reason to demand a royal apology from her. If anything, being called like that by her felt quite nice.

“You don’t need my forgiveness, ohime-sama.”

“O-Of course I do. I—“

“Just Sasuke is fine.” He said, softly, making her stop in her tracks at the same time. He offered her a comforting expression, and waited for her to settle for their decision regarding his name. 

“Hai. As you wish, Sasuke.”

A sudden, easeful sensation took over him, making his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft voice. He bowed down his head once more, and with that light feeling surrounding them, the Uchiha finally made his way back towards his companions.

xxxxxxx

The first time he sees the colour of her hair, he understood the reason behind her name

––

It was still early in the morning when his ears captured a ruckus that suddenly shook the great walls of the palace and scared the birds that were still comfortably asleep in their nests.

He had just finished his daily rounds and was on his way to meeting the princess when the pristine silence was broken by an exasperated and loud voice coming from the chamber where the princess was supposed to be meeting her tutors. By the time he reached the sealed doors, he could hear a certain commotion going on inside, and even if he was quick to identify that it was only that old woman’s cranky voice lecturing her again, the Uchiha couldn’t help but notice there was something odd going on in there. 

“What did you do, ohime-sama!? This is not unacceptable! A disgrace! How could you!?”

His eyes widened in surprise at such harsh words, and he wondered what on earth could have happened. Though he sensed no imminent threat in her voice, he couldn’t help but feel his overprotective instincts taking over his body. His hands clenched, he bit his lower lip, his eyes held a glare and even if he had no idea of what the princess might have done, it only felt natural for him to take her side. 

He wasn’t going to let that woman speak to her like that, no. No matter what might have driven such words towards the young girl, people shouldn’t be treated like that. 

He took a deep breath, then, and quickly, he opened the door, his skilful eyes surveying the place. The princess was behind her curtains, scrolls were spread across the floor and the filthy woman stood right above them, an irritated demeanour taking over her features. She was mad— really mad— as her glaring eyes were still set on the princess. 

“What is happening here?” He asked, the tone in his voice as stoic as ever. “Is the princess in trouble?”

Her head turned so she could face him, and the Uchiha couldn’t help but feel goose bumps running down his spine. “The princess is fine.” She stated, lifting her chin as if trying to recompose herself. “Or, perhaps, she has lost her mind completely."

“And what makes you think like that?”

“See for yourself! Or, even better, ask her since she seems to be having a string of arguments lately!” She said, and at that moment, Sasuke could tell she had lost it. Never before had he seen that woman losing her balance, but apparently, the princess had driven her to the limit. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to neither judge nor blame her just yet.

“Whatever might have happened, there’s no excuse for the way you’ve spoken to the princess.”

“You're but a simple warrior, raised to fight. Who do you think you are to speak to me about manners?”

“I am a subordinate of the royal family, just like you. I am making sure no one speaks ill of the ohime-same, therefore, be sure I’ll inform the king about your words.”

“You little—” Her face grew madder at his words, and if she didn’t hate him before, she certainly did now. “Don't waste your precious time. I will go inform the king myself and I will tell him to find his precious daughter a new tutor. I hope the next one can make a real woman out of this child before she embarrasses the whole country. Before she—”

“I will not tolerate another word against the princess.” His voice came out strong and without hesitance, cutting the older woman before she had the chance to conclude her speech. His eyes were intensely glaring at her as he held eye contact, but she didn’t seem intimidated by his imposing presence.

“You should know your place. Just a lowlife who’ll never—“

“That’s enough!” Her voice— usually so soft and polite— sounded mature and powerful as it echoed across the big chamber. Two hearts were caught by surprise and eyes widened as all the attentions were now set on the girl behind the curtains. “Not another word about my protector. Leave, at once.”

A deafening silence took over the room after her words, and his heart skipped a beat. The princess made herself heard, and for the first time, she had decided not to stay silent and simply accept such harsh words. Sakura was not going to just listen as she said those words about him, and even if he was more than capable of defending himself against a woman, it felt good to see her fighting for both of them.

She was standing her ground, like a princess should. She should be proud of herself.

A scoff left the older woman's lips before she looked away from the Uchiha, finally deciding to leave the room. Her heels clicked across the floor as she made her way out, and even if he didn’t turn to see her leaving, the door loudly shutting behind them indicated she was gone. They were both left alone in a large chamber, and even if it was normally considered to be an inappropriate situation for a princess, neither of them could deny that the atmosphere felt lighter than ever before.

There was no telling what kind of consequences her actions would have, and chances were her father would scold her for driving that woman away, but the warrior figured that was not the right time to worry about that. His brother has always told him to be proud of his choices, and even if he couldn’t see her face, something told him she was aware of that.

The raven-haired warrior, then, took a deep breath and took a few steps until he was standing closer to her, just next to the scattered scrolls. He still didn’t know what had started that whole thing, but he figured it was none of his business and decided that gathering those things would, at least, help them move forward with their day.

He kneeled down on the ground, his hands carefully took the scrolls. For what he could see, they were all about medicine and medicinal herbs, and he thought that, maybe, that was one of the reasons why that old lady was so mad. Based on all the times he had heard her scolding during their classes, the Uchiha could imagine she didn’t like seeing the princess reading about such things. Women don’t need to know about those things, she probably said, and it was as if he could hear her voice saying such things while taking them away from the young girl. She should be allowed to read whatever she wanted to without being scolded, and if anything, he believed everyone should know a thing or two about herbs and medicine.

Life is really unpredictable, he knew, and he believed she knew it, too.

There was nothing wrong about learning new things and—

His eyes widened once he reached out for the last scroll and saw all that hair on the floor. The colour tinging that long, pink ponytail resembled the Daimyou, but it was prettier and more filled with life—probably due to years of brushing and soaking it in bath oils. It reminded him of the cherry blossoms that flourish on the spring, and perhaps, that was the reason behind her name. Apparently, it had been cut by a clean blade, and now, well, he thought he really understood what went on between those two.

A princess with short hair and peculiar interests. Such an unusual girl, he thought, a soft expression taking over his face.

“Sasuke-san…” She started, making him shift his attention. His eyes were now on her silhouette, and even if it was hard to see, he couldn’t help but imagine those pastel-pink strands now falling just above her shoulders. “Thank you for those words. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“Hn, it was not your fault, Ohime-sama.” He finally took all the scrolls, standing up so he could assume his position next to her sudare. “I should be thanking you, as well, for defending me.”

“Oh, save your modesty. We both know she wouldn’t stand a chance against your sword.”

“Your majesty is probably right.” His lips lifted upwards at her words. Judging by the tone of her voice, her heart didn’t seem troubled anymore, and such thing also brought him some unexpected peace. He placed the scrolls in front of her, so she could retrieve her belongings. “Also, if I may intrude, I think short hair is more practical for a princess.”

A warming silence spread around the room, as she slowly took the scrolls with her tiny, delicate hands. Since she was clearly not having any more classes any moment soon, he figured she could resume her reading while they continued sharing that comfortable moment. “Thank you, Sasuke-san.”

xxxxx

The first time he heard her laugh made him realize she was no longer that princess he had met 5 months before.

–––

After spending so much time following her routine, it was inevitable for the Uchiha to feel bothered by certain obligations forced on her by of her position. At first, he had decided that nothing could be worse than the hours spent on marital lessons, but now, he realized that enduring actual marriage proposals were a lot worse than that. 

Whenever the Daimyou received an offer from one of his allied landlords to marry their children, the promised finance ended up traveling all the way to the palace so the princess could somehow interview the candidate. They would spend hours listening to the first-born-sons of whatever land they came from, as they would talk unstoppably about how much of a great candidate they were. They would brag about their lineage, their conquers; and more importantly, they would brag about how much money and gold they could offer her if she accepted the proposal.

Not once had the Uchiha heard any of them actually asking things about the princess. They didn’t seem to care about her interest or her qualities, focusing only on trying to buy her with their fathers’ fortune. It disgusted him to listen to all futility, especially when it came from a person who had the power and position to make her happy. Those men had the chance and the status to actually offer her some company worthy of a princess, and they could show her a life different from the one she has at the palace. 

They could give her a reason to smile and be free— or as free as a princess could be. 

But they were no good. None of them could actually understand the woman she is, and because of that, Sasuke knew she would probably grow even sadder were she to marry any of them.

Those men were all useless.

And he saw no good reason to believe the newest candidate that had arrived from the Wind country would be any different.

His hair was dark brown, his eyes were blue and he had spent the last hour or so bragging about his ability to hunt desert frogs. The Uchiha believed he had explained anything interesting about the animals at the beginning of their conversation, but in the end, he had just resumed to talking about himself. 

What a waste of time, Sasuke thought. Just another noble and egocentric man. The Uchiha would love to see his reaction when he eventually realized the princess was probably more interested on the frog than in him. 

Perhaps they should’ve just sent her the rare creature instead.

“Oh, but enough talking about me!” He said, though neither Sasuke nor the princess believed he was, indeed, tired of talking about himself. “I’ve also brought you a gift, Ohime-sama!” The man stated, looking at his servant that was holding a small chest. The other man approached them, offering the said chest so his master could take it.

The Uchiha’s dark eyes followed the chest, his instincts now telling him to keep his guard up in case that gift could offer the princess any harm. He took a step forward, then, making sure that his presence served as a warning to their visitants.

“Worry not, my dearest guard. I mean no harm to your princess, believe me. My gift is but a mere plant that grows in my country.” The man said, opening the chest to revel, indeed, a small, green plant. Her leaves were incredibly thin and pointy, her veins drawing a peculiar pattern the Uchiha just happened to know quite well. During his missions, many times has he seen those leaves, and many times has he seen some fools touching them and suffering the consequences.

That plant was an urtiga. And though it seemed harmless, there was no way he was going to let the princess anywhere near that thing.

“This is a very rare medicinal plant from my country, Ohime-sama. I’ve brought it to you as a proof of my feelings. This plant is said to cure the wounded and it does wonders to the skin! I myself can’t spend a day without them in my bath!”

That fool had absolutely no idea of what he was talking about. He was obviously lying as if to try to impress her, and at that moment, he just feared the princess was actually believing that nonsense. The urtiga wasn’t an uncommon plant outdoors, but for someone who’s spent her entire life surrounded by walls, maybe it was quite easy to believe such lie. 

Maybe she would actually be fooled by that man and be charmed by the idea of a plant with such miraculous properties. Maybe she would even accept—

"What a delightful plant you’ve brought me, Ōji-sama.” She started, and for the first time, her voice actually seemed thrilled about something. “I've heard stories about this plant a couple of times by my tutors, but I had never really seen them with my own eyes. I thank you for that.”

“There is no need to thank me, Ohime-sama. This is just one of the many wonders of my land that I would love to show you, were you to accept my proposal.”

“How extremely kind of you. I’m certain your land has many wonders like this, but for now, let’s focus on this plant. What’s the name of it?”

“The name?” He repeated, caught off guard by her sudden interest. At that moment, the Uchiha couldn’t quite understand her intentions anymore, and he could feel his curiosity growing on him.

“Oh, yes. Such a wonderful plant must have a name, I presume.”

“Yes! A name! It’s called… Uhm… Divine Branch, right?!” He looked at his servant, and the other man barely managed to nod in agreement. "Yes, this is the name. Divine Branch”

“… Such a wonderful name for such a wonderful plant.” She said, her voice soft as silk. There was a mix of bewilderment and joy, and if he didn’t know any better, Sasuke would have believed that voice to be mirroring her feelings. After spending months by her side, he unconsciously knew how read her emotions through her voice, and at that moment, he knew she wasn’t been honest with that foolish prince.

Those emotions were untrue, he was sure. She was faking them elegantly, and he almost fell for her lie. Almost.

The princess knew about the plant. She knew he was lying, but instead of exposing him, she had decided to mock that man who believed her to be yet another naive girl. 

That poor man, he thought, suppressing a smirk that tried to make its way to his lips. He really had no idea of what that girl was capable of.

“Yes, it is, indeed! And now I’m giving it to—“

“Oh, but please, before you give it to me, would you mind showing me how to use it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don't be so modest, Ōji-sama! It’s just us, here. Please, show me how to apply it on the skin.”

“D-Do you… Do you want me to rub it on my skin?”

“Yes, of course. You’ve ignited my curiosity now. I want to see the effects of such miraculous plant with my own eyes. Unless there’s a problem with that, of course.”

“Ōji-sama, I don’t think—“ His servant started, but the prince didn’t listen, determinedly reaching out for the plant with his bare hand. Then, he lifted his sleeve, rubbing the plant up and down his arm. His servant’s face showed a mix of horror and concern, and the prince, being fully aware of what he had just done, did his best to maintain a straight face.

“T-This is how the plant must be used, Ohime-sama.” He started, then, his arm growing redder. “Just rub it and wait for its miraculous effects.”

“O-Oh… I see.” She started, and Sasuke could swear she had just suppressed a laughter. “And this redness is normal, I presume?”

“Well, indeed.” He said, his voice crackling as he began scratching the red area. “Y-You may also feel a bit itchy, but it’s also normal.”

“How wonderful, indeed.” She started. “Thank you for showing me such wonderful plant. I shall try it myself one day.” 

“Y-You really should, O-Ohime-sama.”

The young prince tried to be short with words as he scratched his arm more vigorously. His expression seemed very troubled and his now red arm seemed to be growing as red as a tomato. The Uchiha has never seen that plant causing anything other than an immense discomfort, so they figured there was no real danger to the foolish prince. 

He was certainly going to learn his lesson. In the worst possible way.

“You seem troubled, Ōji-sama.” She asked, knowing very well what was happening to him. “Is there anything wrong?"

“Ohime-sama, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I need to be going now.” He said, quickly standing up, trembling as he held himself not to scratch himself like a stray dog with fleas.  "I’m afraid we’re going to settle our matters in another occasion."

“Certainly. I wish you a safe trip back home, then. And thank you for showing me how to use the… Divine Branch.”

“I-It was my pleasure. Excuse me.”

After clumsily bowing down his head, the man rushed out of the room, his servant running after him so they could try to help him somehow. The large doors were closed once they were out, and as soon as they were out of their sights, the Uchiha allowed himself to relax. There was a sly smile on his face, now, and were he not by her side, he would be laughing out loud at that moment. 

He couldn’t lose his composure in front of her, no. However, as the princess, she couldn’t seem to care about that at that moment.

The silence of the room was ruined by a wave of laughter that escaped her lips. It was silly and pure laughter— much similar to a child— and it was undeniable that she was having a great time. The was probably the best reaction he had ever seen from her, and at that moment, he just wished to hear her laughing more often. She had been a great actress during the whole thing, and right now, she just couldn’t hold back the satisfaction of a well-done job.

“I can’t believe he actually rubbed the urtiga all over his arm!” She said, still laughing to her heart’s content. “Divine Branch!? What did he take me for? That fool!”

“Your majesty!” Her handmaiden said, surprised to actually see such reaction coming from her.

“Oh, please, every person in the room knew what that plant was.”

“Still, this is no way for a princess to behave. I shall inform your father immediately.”

The maid spoke, firmly, quickly leaving the room so she could go inform the Daimyou of what had happened. That woman was supposed to have stayed by the princess’ side, and yet, she was just another one who didn’t really care about the young girl.

How sad, the Uchiha thought. Such a woman with no sense of loyalty to her princess. He just hoped the princess wouldn’t let those words discourage her laughter.

“Tch.” The princess sighed, taking a deep breath and recomposing herself. Silence took over the room for a couple of seconds, until she decided to speak once more. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone rubbing an urtiga so vigorously against their skin. He’s going to keep scratching for at least two days, don’t you think, Sasuke-san?”

“At least three, your Majesty.”

“Yeah… I believe he won’t forget me anytime soon.”

“Certainly not, your Majesty.”

“And my father will also be quite mad, too.” She said, but her voice was still filled with joy.

“I'm afraid he will.”

“Did you think it was too much? Be honest with me.”

“If I may, Ohime-sama… I don’t think you should worry about of anything that has happened in this room. You were simply curious about the Divine Branch. We all were, so I believe your majesty was great today.”

Another silence took over the room, and though he couldn’t see, he knew she was smiling. She shouldn’t blame herself for making a fool of that man, especially when he was the one trying to impress her with that lie.

She really was great that day.

She had played the prince’s own game and won in all the best ways possible. He didn’t even know what hit him, but the princess—oh— she knew exactly what she was doing. Her father would be furious once he heard about what she had done in order to get rid of yet another suitor, but it had certainly been a pretty fantastic trick.

Fantastic enough to make her laugh.

xxxxx

The first time he saw her tears, he knew he could never let her go.

––

And though the rumours had stopped and peace seemed to have prevailed, the castle was soon attacked. 

It happened at night, when most people were asleep and no one was expecting an attack. Over 300 men carrying swords and spears invaded through the gates, killing everyone that stood between them and the Daimyou. Royal guards were down, maids were slaughtered, and in the middle of that bloody mess, the rebels set the palace on fire. Screams composed a symphony of despair, and at that moment, both of the Uchiha brothers knew what they had to do.

They had to save the royal family. While the rest of the guards took care of the masses, they had to take the king and his daughter out before it was too late. They were asleep in their rooms when they heard the commotion, and they had barely any time to say goodbye before heading out and mixing themselves amongst those warriors. Itachi went after the Daimyou and Sasuke went after the princess, and even if they had been together for a long time, eventually, the two brothers were separated.

Each of them had their own orders to follow. Each of them was bound to their own person. And though they didn’t want to part, the Uchiha brothers knew what they had to do.

In order to reach the princess’ chambers, Sasuke had to fight his way through a lot of men that were trying to kill him. He swung his sword, landing precise hits and dirtying himself with the blood of his enemies. Eventually, he got cut on the arm by a spear that came from behind, but thankfully, it was really just a scratch. He kicked that man backwards before stabbing his stomach, trying his best not to take too long to reach her.

He had to be fast. At that moment, when the moon seemed to be tinged by the blood of innocent people, he could just hope for her to be alive. She still had her whole life ahead of hers, and the gods would be unfair if they allowed her to die before even living. There were still scrolls she had to read, stories she had to tell and places she had to meet.

No, the princess could not die that night. He wasn’t going to allow that.

His tired feet had finally arrived at the corridor that lead to her room, and much to his apprehensive heart, there was an assassin trying to force his way inside. Though the door seemed to be holding up for now, Sasuke knew it would be just a matter of time before that man could get to the princess. His bloodshot eyes were seeking to spill her blood with his blade, and he knew there would be no stopping that man without taking away his life.  

A man who’s driven by hatred will stop for nothing, his brother would say, and at that moment, Sasuke really understood the meaning behind those words.

“Open the door, princess! It useless to run away! Come outside and take responsibility for all the things your father has done to us!”

“Stand back from this door!” The Uchiha screamed, right before storming towards the bandit. It didn't take long before they engaged in a sword fight, and though he was not as fast as his brother, it was undeniable that his opponent knew what he was doing.

Their blades clashed multiple times, and even if the enemy was trying to distract him by badmouthing the royal family, Sasuke gave him no ears. Both the Daimyou and the princess were good people, and whatever it was that those bandits were trying to obtain, murdering a father and his daughter was not going to get them anywhere. 

They weren’t going to get what they wanted. He was not going to let them.

In a swift move, then, the Uchiha purposefully offered his enemy an opening, and when that dirty man decided to take advantage of that and pierce his left arm, Sasuke took the opportunity and stabbed him in the heart. His left arm was bleeding now and it certainly hurt, but at that moment, as his enemy fell onto the ground, he knew there was no time to worry about himself.

He had to save the princess. He had to get her out of there.

“Ohim-sama, open the door! I need to get you somewhere safe!” He said, banging against the door, his teeth gritted in pain.

“Sasuke-san!?” Her voice sounded exasperated, and at that moment, he was glad to know she recognized his voice.

“It's me. Hurry, you’re not safe here!”

In a blink of an eye, the door was opened, and even if he had expected things not to be as calm and serene as they usually are, he couldn’t help. but be taken aback by the sight of her.

The princess was right there, standing in front of him, and for the first time, there were no curtains hiding her features. His dark eyes widened at the scene, and though he had many times wondered how she looked like, not even in his sweetest dreams would he have pictured such a beautiful woman.

At last, he saw her face.

Her skin was pale and delicate like porcelain, her short hair covered her ears, and her eyes— her emerald-green eyes that have observed him so many times— though clouded by tears, were probably the prettiest things he had ever seen in his life. They shone brighter than her father’s and it was as if they were incapable of holding any secret behind them. They clashed against his dark orbs, looking relieved and scared at the same time. 

They were begging him for help. And he would gladly risk his life for those eyes.

“Sasuke-san! Y-You’re bleeding!” She said, immediately reaching out to inspect his arm. Her touch was warm and soft, and even if his arm was sensitive, her touch didn’t hurt him.

“Don't worry about me, Ohime-sama. We need to get you out of here.”

“What about my father? What about your brother and the others?”

“My brother went after the Daimyou. You are my priority now.”

“But if you come with me, they will go after you, too! Sasuke-san, get out of here!”

“What are you talking about, Ohime-sam—“

“Stop calling me that!” She screamed, leaving him speechless. “If my father’s lucky, his title as the Daimyou will be the only thing he’ll lose! I’m not a princess anymore and you are no longer a royal guard! You’re free!”

As she spoke those words, his eyes could see the way her hands were trembling. The young girl was scared— of course she was— and yet, she was doing her best to protect him. She knew he would have better chances if he didn’t have to protect her, and if that meant he could live or just focus on helping his brother, then she wouldn’t mind staying behind. Sakura was looking after him, like a princess looks after her people. If not for that rebellion, perhaps, she would’ve become a terrific leader.

“Sakura.” He said, firmly, his eyes looking directly into hers. She was certainly caught by surprise by the way her name had rolled out of his tongue, and her green eyes widened at that. “I'm not leaving you behind.”

“B-But why? I’ve told you that I’m not—“

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you’re no longer a princess, I want to save you. So, please, come with me, Sakura.”

His eyes were still on her as he spoke those words, and he reached out with his right hand so she could take it. At that moment, the world she knew was turning into ashes and the people she knew were losing their lives. The former princess was about to begin a new life and he was the only one who would be by her side. They have gone a long way together already, and as she took his hand, they both realized that they still had a long way to go.

Together. The former princess and her former guard.

As they escaped through the narrow corridors of the burning palace, they were leaving behind everything they knew. A new life was about to begin and they didn’t know if her father and his brother would be able to join them one day.

From that moment on, they only had each other.

And that would have to be enough.

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2020 #ssm20 #ssm20d1 #sasusaku fanfiction #myssfics

[1zashreena1]

Quarantine- New Ranch Flavor! -5

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess is stranded in NYC with her Murder Panther for the duration of the quarantine. As a high risk patient she has no choice but to isolate as much as possible. Simulated domesticity ensues. Princess texts a running commentary to her bff Lisa.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

No actual smut, nasty ass snack foods, plus size insecurity, unprotected sex, feels are icky, plus size woman+fit man, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings… I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

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Thursday 11:22am

From Princess

Day 1 and I literally have an ice pack on my pussy and

Hold on he’s not wearing pants again gtg

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Friday 9:49am

From Princess

Video chatting with sister when Diego walks past in the background… shirtless.

She put her phone down (my entire screen was just ceiling) and I could hear her crying. Hung up after 10 min

~~~

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Friday 10:14pm

From Princess

He sucks ass at Jenga and its adorable

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Saturday 11:49am

From Princess

I was provided a to-do list for the day.

It's just his name

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Sunday 1:32pm

From Princess

We have sorted every liquid in the penthouse into 2 categories:

Potential Lube

Definitely Not Lube

Except we’re arguing about ranch dressing

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Sunday 2:17pm

From Princess

Update: Ranch went into the Not Lube category because it “smells nasty when it gets warm” This fact was previously unknown to me and I was afraid to ask for more details

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Monday 8:40am

From Princess

Morning announcements include the fact that 8:37 is the earliest he has ever gotten up

I’m worried about losing my job. Diego advises me to apply to Dyson because I “never lose suction”

Am I offended or proud of myself?  It’s not even 9am

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Tuesday 1:12am

From Princess

This is the most weed I have ever consumed in my life (I know, not a high bar) Why is he hanging upside down off the couch making motorboat noises??

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Tuesday 1:14am

From Princess

Ahh. He was composing a poem about my tits

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Tuesday 2:49am

From Princess

The railing up the stairs to the bedroom does not in fact support my weight. Pole dance competition is OFF

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Tuesday 2:57am

From Princess

You know that thing you do with my bras? Where you put it on like a headband and it makes mickey mouse ears?

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Wednesday 11:17am

From Princess

Julio required to give 10 min warning prior to arrival so Diego can take off his pants

Yes you read that right

Freak

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Wednesday 11:19am

From Princess

Yes you do so know who Julio is. Big, round, only wears ivory/eggshell/off white/ThisIsMy 2ndWedding  colored blazers. Jeez Lisa you're not old enough for dementia yet girl

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Wednesday 12:52pm

From Princess

I have played myself. Just ate an entire cheesesteak while being a cockwarmer

Turns out I’m the freak

Julio present and accounted for

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Thursday 9:37am

From Princess

He’s crunching  a bowl of something via spoon. I ask what it is. Crushed cheez-its and mayonnaise. What in the actual fuck this man is a literal monster

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

Edible body paint works on windows. Had to sit on his shoulders but this is the largest ‘FUCK’ I have ever written. Very proud

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Thursday 12:22pm

From Princess

Bottom half of the ‘C’ has transferred onto my ass. But 7 orgasms. Pick your battles

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Thursday 11:47pm

From Princess

Tried a pickled habanero. He’s still face down in the rug crying with laughter. It’s been 10 min dude come on

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Friday 10:12am

From Princess

Me: Why are you so heavy?

Diego: I keep eating you

Me: High five

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Friday 3:17pm

From Princess

He’s trying to “conduct business” via 3 cellphones. Would offer my tablet but I’m too pretty for prison. Gonna take a nap

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Friday 4:41pm

From Princess

Pants are forbidden in the bedroom. We’re just making the rules up as we go I see

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Saturday 9:59am

From Princess

He’s sitting in the corner of the window walls staring dejectedly outside. I hear the tiniest forlorn whisper “THOSE people are outside”

Too cute--must blow---BRB

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Saturday 1:32pm

From Princess

Angry texting. Muttering “No I can’t go outside and no you can’t come in here. Bitch…. No no, delete delete delete”

Me:  Where is your sister anyway? LA?

Him: Very Squinty Eyes

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Saturday 9:22pm

From Princess

My ass is stuck in the kitchen sink. While he was very helpful getting me in here he is of no assistance getting me out.

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Saturday 11:46pm

From Princess

Apparently ‘douchecanoe twatwaffle jerkface’ is the most hilarious insult he has ever heard. My brilliance is unparalleled

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Sunday 5:51am

From Princess

Me: Hey what’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?

Him outrageously offended: I’m not answering that!

Him:  ... you first

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Sunday 7:12pm

From Princess

Is it a legit massage if he has to pause in the middle to jack off?

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Monday 11:06am

From Princess

Ordered groceries via Amazon Prime drone delivery. Sitting on the rooftop patio wrapped up together in a ginormous blankie waiting.

Does this count as a date?

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Monday 1:13pm

From Princess

Drone arrived. I lost my shit. Coolest thing ever. He’s frantically ordering more stuff because I haven’t looked this ecstatic since the time he rubbed my feet then went down on me for 2 hrs

Hold up change of plans

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

stubble burn on bottom of feet :-/

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Monday 6:44pm

From Princess

We can both fit in the jacuzzi tub. Almost drowned when his phone rang and we both spazzed out

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Tuesday 10:10am

From Princess

Today’s formal edict: He will only be referring to himself in the 3rd person. I am required to do as told. Should not be this turned on

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Tuesday 11:58am

From Princess

Watching him try to answer calls like this is a level of hilarity I could not have predicted

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Tuesday 1:53pm

From Princess

He gave me a crash course in chem. Still don’t know anything but it was hot as hell

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Tuesday 2:57pm

From Princess

Despite all evidence to the contrary I’m a Good Girl. Did as I was told. Got rewarded. 13 times

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Tuesday 5:33pm

From Princess

Unlocked a tiny piece of tragic backstory*™: He’s never been to a zoo   :-(

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Wednesday 11:24am

From Princess

Julio and Bastian brought 4 pizzas. Currently eating them individually sitting in a giant square in the living room SOCIAL DISTANCING

Like he wasn’t inside me 10 min ago wtf

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Wednesday 11:25am

From Princess

Yes cute driver Bastian. Btw you are barking up the wrong tree girl. His favorite animal is bears lol

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Wednesday 12:39pm

From Princess

Garlic butter: lube or no? Round table discussion happening.

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Wednesday 1:19pm

From Princess

I won in favor of No

Me: slams hands down on table

Me: HAVE YOU EVER HAD A YEAST INFECTION???

All men present:   :-[

                             :-[

                             :-[

~~~

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Wednesday 1:32pm

From Princess

Diego: puts garlic butter cup in the empty box and slides the whole mess off table to the floor without breaking eye contact. My sugar daddy is truly a murder panther

~~~

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Wednesday 3:49pm

From Princess

Flipping channels (he only has 5000) when he comes downstairs from the bedroom wearing Ginormous Blankie as cape.

Him: Can we do the thing again?

Me: Gotta be way more specific babe

Him: Flaps blankie like wings and gives me puppy dog eyes

Him: You know. Thing. On the roof. ...please?

Did

Did he just ask me to cuddle???

~~~

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Wednesday 5:58pm

From Princess

Can confirm roof cuddles.  He fell asleep with his face mashed into my neck-shoulder after watching sunset. Every time I move he whimpers and squeezes tighter. I don't know what is happening but it kinda hurts in my chest

~~~

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Wednesday 9:12pm

From Princess

Me: You know those girls you send away when I come up? There's one that sorta begrudgingly likes me?

Him, stuffing a 2nd Oreo into his mouth(there's already a whole 1 in there)

Him: Frahnthessga?

Me: Yeah! Can I fuck her?

….I should worry about my job again pretty sure Murder Panther Sugar Daddy is dead

~~~

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Wednesday 10:48pm

From Princess

We splintered the plexiglass-divider-shower-wall thingy. His solution was to just hold all 215lbs of me up in the air and finish. I have no words

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Thursday 4:12am

From Princess

I can hear him on the phone downstairs listing names. I don't know these people. I'm going in the bathroom to run water so I can't hear anything else

~~~

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Thursday 9:02am

From Princess

I slept thru a breakfast meeting. There's a laptop  and a box of 1 doz Boston cream donuts labeled PRINCESS on the bar counter. He's watching news with Julio + Bastian on the couch. Odd but ok I got fave donuts so whatevs

~~~

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Thursday 9:17am

From Princess

On 3rd donut when I catch him staring. Can only see from eyes up bc he's peering at me over back of the couch. Have inadvertently activated Horny Murder Panther mode via accidental slutty licking of cream filling. 

~~~

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Thursday 11:40am

From Princess

Me: I don't like avocado

Diego: bitch what the fuck 

~~~

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

He asked what the deal was with white people and meatloaf. I requested clarification on food or music. He's confused it's fucking adorable

BUT NOW I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE ENTIRE GENRE OF CLASSIC ROCK

~~~

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Thursday 2:14pm

From Princess

I'm making a meatloaf for dinner. Also brownies. TV is still on???

~~~

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Thursday 4:24pm

From Princess

Found a big round can of guava paste in the back of the fridge. He's spoon feeding it to me while watching me make meatloaf

Diego: I did not realize you were so… domesticated

Me, no brain to mouth filter: Yeah well gettin dicked down 3x a day will do that to a girl

Please send hitman asap 

~~~

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Thursday 5:10pm

From Princess

He just turned TV off. Local news was listing all major crimes in NYC today. Last story was 6 bodies found inside meat plant freezer, execution style kills with "on-site" equipment. When I whisper Dafuq??  he distractedly mutters 'captive bolt pistol'  

He's texting again

~~~

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Thursday 5:39pm

From Princess

I kinda wanna come home now

~~~

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Thursday 7:48pm

From Princess

I have converted another person to meatloaf lover (food not music)

On 3rd brownie when he declares: I am never letting you leave again. Mine now

Look up from rolling my eyes to receive Super Intense I Can See Into Your Soul Diego Stare

~~~

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Thursday 9:50pm

From Princess

He's looking for a scary movie via voice command on remote. Other hand is on my foot. I can't even see my foot. What is the actual purpose of hands that big?? What is the evolutionary goal to this endgame? ?? Why am I wet just thinking about a    h a n d    ?????

~~~

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Friday 12:34am

From Princess

Con: This asshole is delighted to learn that I don't like scary movies

Pro: Hiding my face in his chest means I fucking feel the rumble when he laughs at me. I think I'm developing a heart condition. Hurts again.

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Friday 1:40am

From Princess

He's rubbing his face all over my stomach. I don't like this. Sir why. Please it's literally the least attractive part of me

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Friday 2:11am

From Princess

He likes it…? I don't see. How does. But it's.

No

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Friday 3:47am

From Princess

He's asleep on my stomach after spending 40 min declaring his love for belly

I'm crying and I can't stop. My whole chest hurts. What is this. Is this the most long game prank ever. There's no way he's for real. I'm afraid. Do you think I should try to escape?? Please you know I'm not easily frightened but I just. Please text back I need my BFF

~~~

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Friday 7:18am

From Princess

Woke up in bed alone and naked. Gonna grab a shirt and handle this. I can't just ignore it. This is probably a bad idea but I can't just let it go. If you don't hear back from me by noon call my parents. I love you

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Friday 11:38am

From Princess

Halfway down the stairs 3 dudes I don't know come out of the office, Diego and Julio follow. They take 1 look at me and launch into laughter and some rude fucking spanish. I'm rusty but I know fucking "fat bitch" tyvm. Diego picks this mf up by the throat and throws him into the elevator. Drags the other 2 in and... no one has come back since

Been locked in the bathroom. I'm afraid to hear anything

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Friday 1:48pm

From Princess

Relocated to closet earlier. Reading. I'm 2 chapters in and I don't even remember the title. Gonna take an ativan. Hands are shaking

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Friday 2:27pm

From Princess

You know what? I don't even care. Like as long as it's never directed at me I just don't care.

It's too late I'm in too deep. I don't know if I can even come home after this. I'm not who everyone thinks I am. I don't know who I am. I'm turning the phone off now I'm sorry but I just need everything to stop for a while

~~~

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Friday 7:48pm

From Princess

I'm ok, sorry for the dramatics. Woke up still in the closet corner but under Ginormous Blankie and can hear shower running. Decide it's time to put my big girl panties on and march in there. No I did not learn from the last time. Standby

~~~

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Friday 9:22pm

From Princess

We're good.

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Friday 11:49pm

From Princess

Ok. Marched into bathroom, launched into speech: I'm sorry but I did not know anyone was here. You have to leave me a note or something. Please tell me I did not ruin anything

Him, still in shower: Get your ass in here.

It was a literal growl

~~~

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Friday 11:50pm

From Princess

Apparently that guy had been fucking up small time and Diego was waiting for him to fuck up big time. I will never see all 3 of them again (No do not ask)Yes it was frustrating but not mad at me. Ok a little because his sister hired that guy and now he has to explain the dude's ...disappearance. Without mentioning me. No one can know about me I am a "liability"

Um ouch..? I think?? Chest pain again

~~~

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Friday 11:51pm

From Princess

He's been asleep, I'm just staring at the ceiling. Demanded I let him prove that he would never put hands on me that I don't want. I thought he was gonna cry. I did start crying but said yes. Not gentle per se, but definitely ...emotional? Like soft sex. Slow soft sex but with emotions?? I'm lost

~~~

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Friday 11:54pm

From Princess

Please tell me no. Talk me out of this. Tell me I'm fucknuts and I need to just come home and be reasonable and sensible. You know when you stand at a ledge and a little voice tells you Just jump. Do it. Go

Do I want all in? Can I do this? I should not do this. I should not care about him. Especially like this. I just. When I'm not here this is all I think about. No one else makes me feel this way

~~~

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Friday 11:56pm

From Princess

I'm hysterical right? This will go away if I just sleep. I can't stop looking at him. Touching his face, hair. Ever since the Kitchen Blowup (after the first fight??is it a fight if you're not technically in a relationship?) he's been different. Careful?? Like he really listened to me and heard. I can see him trying. Like reining in his knee jerk reactions and stopping to think before he says stuff to me. What am I supposed to do?

~~~

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Friday 11:59pm

From Princess

I want to trust him. I want to be spoiled and fucked senseless and all the giggles and private planes and shopping sprees and sleeping in til noon. But what about the other side? Constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that he might not come home from whatever the fuck he's out doing? The other actual supermodel hot women??? I'm not naive.

~~~

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Saturday 12:10am

From Princess

I just need to turn this off. Shut it down. Cut off emotions and just fuck. I can't do this and I can't have him for keeps. So it's time to be realistic. After this shitty quarantine ends I'll take whatever cash he wants to give me and go home. I can move if I have to. It's not hard to change your name these days. This whole nightmare will be the hilarious rumors in my future nursing home

~~~

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Saturday 4:44am

From Princess

Got up at like 350 for the bathroom. When I crawled back into bed he yanked me backwards to be smashed into/under him. Buried face into my hair and ordered:

Stop

Leaving

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Saturday 9:10am

From Princess

Woke up alone. Gathered shirt. Did surveillance from top of stairs. Music blasting. Bastian and Diego are working out. I had to sit down for a while

~~~

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Saturday 9:40am

From Princess

Finally made it down the stairs. Eating donuts while watching live action porn

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Saturday 10:27am

From Princess

Show's over. Diego announces he is going to shower with a wink. I am staying on this barstool with my donuts. I am determined

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Saturday 10:38am

From Princess

Sharing donuts with Bastian. He is staring at me

Me: ...wut?

Bastian: You know I haven't driven Franchesca anywhere in 4 months

I don't know how long I've been sitting here staring at this half eaten donut but Bastian is gone

Shower still running

~~~

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Saturday 1:36pm

From Princess

Slut level 7: Shower blowjob

Realized I have to wash my hair now. He demands to do it??

Diego: How much fucking conditioner is this going to take?

Me drooling blissfully: Uhhh... please not that word right now

...I literally heard Horny Murder Panther transition happen.

He did not touch anything but my head. Came via voice command. How the fuck

~~~

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Saturday 1:39pm

From Princess

Then it was Round 2 still dripping wet in the bed. No idea how he recovered that fast not looking gift horse in the mouth.  Haha   Horse

Also slow soft again? Does this mean something?? I feel like I'm missing some key piece of info. Never had a dude like kiss all over my face and stroke my hair. What is this gentle?? Don't like the whole looking into my eyes thing

~~~

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Saturday 3:02pm

From Princess

Received an assignment. Was trying to budget for next month (on my new laptop! Whole Microsoft office package!! SPREADSHEETS!!!)

Instructed to help fix what I fucked up…?

It's resumes. He wants me to look at resumes.   Um

~~~

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Saturday 4:12pm

From Princess

We traded laptops. I picked 3 resumes for 'warehouse labor'  This is fucking surreal

Got my laptop back and… all the internet tabs were closed?? I was paying all my bills dude wtf. His phone rings but before he walks off tells me the title will be mailed to me. ?????

~~~

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Saturday 4:47pm

From Princess

He's still in the office on the phone. I'm in the closet in shock. He paid my loans. He paid my Loans. He Paid My Fucking Loans OFF

CAR

STUDENT LOANS

$$$$$   30,000  $$$$$

THIRTY GRAND

~~~

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Saturday 4:52pm

From Princess

No you can't have him if I don't want him!! Fuck you

~~~

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Saturday 5:32pm

From Princess

Bastian came back, left a big box on the counter, said "This is for you honey" and left again. Diego still in the office.

...should I open it or wait for him to come out??

~~~

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Saturday 5:36pm

From Princess

Fuck it. I'm opening this shit

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Saturday 5:42pm

From Princess

It's a very large Brahmin bag.

Holy fuck its gorgeous 

~~~

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Saturday 5:47pm

From Princess

You know what? You Know What?

IT'S KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0 TIME

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Sunday 8:42am

From Princess

I think we're ok? I actually uh, accidentally recorded um… everything-ish. And I might send it to you later. But right now things are kinda wobbly and I just wanna enjoy everything while I can. I'll check back in later. We're going to bed now

~~

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Sunday 1:58pm

From Princess

Woke up to 1 gigantic hand stroking down my back. 2nd hand stuffed up my pussy to the knuckle. Villain voice directly into left ear. Memory hazy after that

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Sunday 3:01pm

From Princess

Do Oreos in bed at 3pm count as breakfast? My hips hurt

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Sunday 6:40pm

From Princess

Ok we all know I'm very much A Freak. Trysexual if you will. Only way to know you don't like it is to try it right? So anal. Never really worked. Great in theory really unpleasant in practice.

Turns out others were trying to insert the wrong appendage. Related: I fucking love beards

e v e r y w h e r e

~~

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Sunday 10:40pm

From Princess

Yes I know you wanna know about KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0, someday I'll tell you about v.1. It's complicated. There are feels. I can't take the vague, wishy washy, up in the air status. So it went kinda like this

Me: You want to "keep" me? Wtf does that even mean?? And how, via purchasing me??? Don't get me wrong, I like being spoiled. I'm not an idiot. But you don't even know me

He looked like I stabbed him. It was horrible

~~

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Sunday 10:42pm

From Princess

So I laid it all out: I lived in my car for a while in my 20s. Escaped an abusive ex after 8 yrs. Survived cancer at 26. Did 2 rounds of trade school just to be scraping by at like $15 an hour. That you just paid off like it was nothing. You try to protect me from you and your life. But you have no idea what I've already survived.

So here's the deal: You wanna keep me?? Then I get to keep you.

But it's everything. If I can't have everything then I don't want anything. And if it can't be ONLY me then I gotta go. I'm not a back up plan or a convenience.

~~

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Sunday 10:50pm

From Princess

At this point I'm scream-crying, gesticulating like I'm hysterical. He's collapsed on the floor at my feet looking like I just killed his dog. Only makes me worse. I'm demanding an answer right fucking now. This is a disaster.

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Sunday 10:54pm

From Princess

He starts yelling about how he can't keep me if I'm dead. This isn't a fucking game and I'm just like Do I look like I'm playing right now?!?

Lisa, he was crying. Just kept repeating "She's right. She's fucking right. That bitch is right."

Head in his hands sobbing.

I couldn't. 

~~

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Sunday 10:59pm

From Princess

So I got down on my knees in front of him and reached for his hands. Just like the first blowup. I was terrified because he's obviously not in control and like I don't know the things he does but I Know. And the PTSD from ex… but I finally got him to look at me and asked him to just Tell Me.

And he did.

~~~

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Monday 12:04am

From Princess

If you had told me that night in the club that any of this would happen. That this man was capable of everything these past 10 months have brought. I would've taken you to the hospital myself.

He collapsed on me and was just begging me "Don't go don't go. Please stay. Stay just for now. Please. No one else no one."  I have a lot to consider. Probably gonna be quiet for a few days. I'll text you when things calm down. He's asleep on my chest right now

~~~

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Monday 12:10am

From Princess

I mean 10 months...how many weekends have I been up here? 12? 16? And only twice did I reach out first and ask. I have stuff here. You saw the closet section. Every time I arrive there's coke and ketchup in the fridge. My face wash and toothbrush and a huge bottle of gel in the bathroom. Last time here he gave me the safe combo???

~~~

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Monday 12:14am

From Princess

YES THE SODA JFC

I mean, I've never seen ...other… in the fridge. I don't think it needs to be refrigerated???

I Don't Know Okay

~~~

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Monday 6:40am

From Princess

Woke up around 5 and he was just staring at me from like 2 inches away. He left once he realized I was awake. I didn't follow. He still hasn't come back to bed yet. Should I go find him?

~~~

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Monday 11:38am

From Princess

Found him on the couch. Coffee table covered in vast array of firearms. Did not realize there were so many in this penthouse. Little uncomfortable. But I'm a fast learner with good mechanical skills so now I can do gun stuff. Please don't ask me about it

~~~

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Monday 11:41am

From Princess

Ok yesss. We had the stupid movie cliche moment of big tough guy stands behind damsel to teach some physical skill. Gawd.

...yeah doing it feels better than watching. You happy now???

~~~

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

Mood swing. He declared vengeance on behalf of his closet. I have worn too many shirts. This cannot continue. ????? Stay tuned

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 2:59pm

From Princess

This man runs the largest distribution enterprise in the western hemisphere.

Currently stuck in one of my $6 tank tops from Target. 

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 4:17pm

From Princess

I'm out a tank top. And a thong. Go ahead and just think about that

...But I'm still wearing one of his shirts :-D

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 5:48pm

From Princess

Instead of admitting defeat he decided to forcibly remove the shirt from me. Since I have to be difficult, I ran. If this place wasn't soundproof there would be so many police here.

What level of fucked up is it to enjoy screaming No!, while struggling, not less than 3 sec prior to orgasm??

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 5:52pm

From Princess

The scale only goes to 10. You don't gotta be a bitch. Damn

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 8:17pm

From Princess

14 days will be up this Thursday. But they're talking about extending it, really bad here. I'm scared. Gonna try a drink, maybe ativan because I'm starting to freak out.

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 9:57pm

From Princess

Watching the news and I just sorta came unglued.  Diego not really a soft/gentle guy (obvs) but once I got thru a blubber-cry explanation of immuno-compromised and cancer treatment I got full lap cuddles. I want this every time I'm upset. Warm and solid and big hands and soft nuzzles and scratchy velvet cheek kisses. Feel so tiny and safe

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:40pm

From Princess

Think I'm fukced up. Everything feels good. Petting all the things

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:44pm

From Princess

I'm fiiiiine. One drink. Once ativan. Thats it

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:49pm

From Princess

Omgod ill be fine it's good donot call me

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:55pm

From Princess

What are fiddlesticks? Like the worrd not a instrument accessory?why do we say that

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 7:42am

From Princess

Holy shit I slept so good. I looked back thru the texts. Wtf was I doing?? I don't remember any of this

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 8:32am

From Princess

He's giving me that all teeth smile. I'm very suspicious. And surprisingly not horny?? Am I dying?

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 9:46am

From Princess

Have been informed that I was very adorable last night. I'm afraid to learn his definition of adorable

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:12am

From Princess

Omg he has 3 hours of video

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 11:17am

From Princess

I spent 45 min yelling about Pluto planet status being revoked and the kilogram definition being forever altered. He was very invested in the 2nd part. Legit academic discussion

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 11:49am

From Princess

Next part: I decided to make a fried egg sandwich. He started recording like a cooking show. I almost lit my hair on fire.

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 11:57am

From Princess

Oh I see where everything went wrong. I had 1 drink and 1 ativan. Then I finished his drink. Then I drank his replacement. Why tf did he let me do that??

"You were so cute! How could I say no to this face, bonita?"

...I will remember that

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:13pm

From Princess

Apparently we exchanged playlists. This is not good

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:28pm

From Princess

Omg I revealed the Murder Panther Sugar Daddy title. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:42pm

From Princess

I spent 40 min petting him all over while listing everything I liked and why. He is going to be insufferable for forever after this

~~~

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Tuesday 1:22pm

From Princess

Lisa. Lisa. Holy shit. He said we made a porno. I laughed. He fucking narrated an opening to it. I am dying  I am going to die   I am dead

Him, offscreen: Diego and Bicki make a Porno!

Me, onscreen, twerking on the bed in lace bra

Me: eeeeeeeeeeeeeee ASS AND TITTIES!!!

Diego pops into shot, giggling: Pretty Princess Pussy!!

The whole thing just dissolved into shaky blur and us laughing hysterically

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 1:24pm

From Princess

No I'm not sharing it. What is wrONG WITH YOU??????

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 3:44pm

From Princess

It… did not go the way I thought it would. And apparently he had not watched it either because we were both surprised.

That. Was not sex. Seeing the soft slow with emotions from the outside was pretty damning.

That was lovemaking

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:32pm

From Princess

I'm locked in the bathroom. Everything is fucked.

I just… I just hid my face and said "I want to go home." Like a fucking coward hiding behind my hair, I took off upstairs and now I'm here. It's been a long time. I'm still alone

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:39pm

From Princess

No shit Sherlock, I know I have intimacy issues.

Men don't love me. Sure I'm fun to fuck for a while. But they don't take a poor fat girl home. Come on, you've seen it firsthand. Clearly, since here I still am by myself

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:42pm

From Princess

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't belong here. Guess I'll just ride out the last 2 days then come home

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:45pm

From Princess

I think Julio is here. I can hear their voices but can't make out the words

Oh no his sister is here. They're yelling in Spanish, I can't catch any of it

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:14pm

From Princess

They screamed for a while, then she finally left. Been silent ever since. I don't know if he's still here

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:40pm

From Princess

He's definitely still here. There's a tantrum going on

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 12:32am

From Princess

Fell asleep in the closet corner again. Except when I woke up he was wedged in there with me

Me: … um

Diego: I think I see why you do this

Then he went to sleep on me

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 5:48am

From Princess

Have been talking since 3. Still in the closet.

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:10am

From Princess

I'm coming home when this is over. I need some time and space to think. 

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:12am

From Princess

Is that even the right term? Do you 'break up' with a sugar daddy???? 

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:13am

From Princess

NO I WANT TO KEEP HIM

BITCH I WILL STAB YOU

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:16am

From Princess

Gonna shower and go to bed. You mention that last text and I literally will stab you. BFF or not

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 4:40pm

From Princess

Just listened to an hour of descriptions of Mexico.

I am… tempted

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 6:54pm

From Princess

I'm flying home Friday, they just lifted the travel ban here.

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 6:59pm

From Princess

No, no one is happy here. We're both clingy disasters today

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:17pm

From Princess

Went downstairs. It's a war zone. We came back upstairs 

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:19am

From Princess

Couldn't sleep so I'm packing. Diego is watching me from the bed with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes in existence.

Effect kinda ruined because I can see his bare ass

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:22am

From Princess

Why would you ask me that? You know he's an exhibitionist 

~~~

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Thursday 6:23am

From Princess

I can't decide if you're the Best or the Worst BFF ever. Gawd

~~~

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Thursday 6:25am

From Princess

...IMAGE LOADING…

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:27am

From Princess

Yeah. You see my dilemma now???

~~~

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Thursday 6:28am

From Princess

Yes I bite it! What is wrong with you today???

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:43pm

From Princess

He spent entire day attached to me. I..??? What do I do with a clingy cartel boss drug lord?? Its too much

~~~

Incoming Text

Friday 8:52am

From Princess

I'm on the plane. He rode here with me. Looked so… broken. Feel like a monster. But I'm scared

~~~

Incoming Text

Friday 1:45pm

From Princess

Lisa. LISA. LISA.

I'm home but but he. Omg

~~~

Incoming Text

Friday 2:38pm

From Princess

There's a tiny stuffed panther in my bag with a note:  I just want to be with you

My very own Tiny Murder Panther 

#damnit diego #murder panther #zash writes #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #rough me up then dick me down #so many feels #literally filth #nasty ass food

[tarontherocketman]

Mr Madden | Madderton Teacher AU | Chapter 1

Ok SO, here’s the first chapter, I know it’s boring and short but just bear with me I didn’t want to jump straight into the action and drama because I genuinely haven’t written fanfiction since I was a teenager (I’m 22!) so I needed to familiarise myself with writing again and re-establish my writing style it’s a little bit choppy right now but I’ll get there over the next few chapters! Anyway, here goes! lowkey nervous that it’s been too long since I wrote and everyone will hate it

Taron sat in an empty classroom chewing mindlessly on the end of a pen, a stack of unmarked homework in front of him that he was already 95% sure he would be taking home with him tonight if this day didn’t get any better. Why did Drama students even need to do homework like this? They have enough homework from all the other classes, Drama should be their slice of freedom and self expression for the week, that’s how Taron saw it anyway. Of course, he could never say this aloud, he had to follow the system regardless of whether he liked it or not. After a small argument in his head about staying focused, Taron finally put pen to paper and began to write, not even writing one single letter before-

“For fuck sake,” he groaned quietly, forcing himself out of the chair and kicking it back behind him as he got up and walked to the door and around the building to the window he had just spotted it out of, another fight.

“Ok break it up lads come on,” he said sternly, not even needing to fully intervene with the wannabe hard nut year 7s. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry Sir!” they both said hurriedly as they scuttled off around the corner, afraid of receiving a detention. Taron rolled his eyes and sauntered back to his classroom, not even reaching the door before deciding he needs a coffee before he can even think of marking more homework. At this thought, he veers away from the door to the drama block to head toward the main building to the teachers lounge, muttering a polite “alright” accompanied with a small nod to the students greeting him as he walked down the hallway. Said students, of course, being girls. The girls all had a thing for him and he knew it, he saw the way they all gushed at him. Little did they know. 

“Have you seen the new History teacher?” a girl in the hallway squealed to her friend as she stood leaning against the wall, phone in one hand, bright pink bedazzled water bottle in the other. Taron’s ears pricked up, new History teacher? he thought, picking up the pace to the staff room to find out what was going on. Once he arrived, he pushed the door handle and poked his head round the door before fully entering. That’s when he saw him.

New History teacher, indeed..

In front of his eyes was the most gorgeous blue eyed man he had ever seen, thick lush brown hair with just the right amount of curl, perfect body, nice legs-

“Ah, Mr Egerton! Meet Mr Madden, he’s just joined today to replace Mr Little in the History department!” the excessively perky Head Teacher exclaimed, waving rather over enthusiastically towards the blue eyed beauty.

“Richard,” he introduced, extending his hand to Taron.

Scottish, as if he wasn’t dreamy enough.

“I- nice to meet you, I’m Taron, Drama,” Taron just about spluttered out, going in for the handshake offered, looking to the floor for lack of a better place to look without dying inside a little. Taron mentally pinched himself, he knew he needed to stop feeling like this. He vowed to himself as soon as he got this job that he’d keep out of anything of this sort, the last thing he needs is the entire school finding out he’s gay, so with this in mind he generally keeps his head down and lays low. Does his job, goes home. He can’t get soft for a teacher now after he’s come this far without screwing up and letting his guard down.

“Drama? I admire your confidence,” Richard commented with a smile. Taron chuckled softly.

“Not your thing?” he asked.

“Nah, just getting in to teaching was far enough out of my confidence zone! It’s done me a lot of good though- sorry I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Richard stopped himself suddenly, a bit flustered.

“No no don’t worry,” Taron assured, “coffee?” he offered, gesturing as he walked over to the small staff coffee machine to make his own.

“Yeah would love one, thanks” Richard replied. Taron grabbed an extra mug for Richard, pouring two coffees from the pot that had already been prepared by the other staff who were coming and going from the cosy staff room. Taron handed Richard a coffee and the two naturally gravitated to a pair of chairs sat by the window.

“So, History?” Taron sparked up a conversation.

“Yeah!” Richard laughed softly, habitually rubbing the back of his neck. “I just got interested in it I guess, not sure I remember how..” he began to trail off, taking a long sip of coffee, “I actually used to be interested in acting.”

“Ahh my speciality,” Taron smirked, “what happened to that?” Richard sighed heavily, taking another sip of coffee.

“Ah I just don’t have the confidence,” he admitted.

“That’s fair enough mate, takes a lot of that I have to admit,” Taron nodded slowly, “never know, maybe one day!” Richard looked down and made a small ‘hmm’ sound with a smile. The pair sat in peace finishing their coffee before Richard placed his hands on his legs and sighed, signalling that it was time for him to get going.

“First class?” Taron asked gently.

“Yeah..I’m really nervous not gonna lie,” Richard confessed, feeling his cheeks go slightly pink.

“Aw don’t worry mate you’ll be absolutely fine, first one’s the worst. Do you have another teacher there observing you?”

“I do, and I’m not sure if that’s making me feel better or worse,” Richard replied, Taron laughed and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk you there if you like?” he offered.

“I would actually love that I’m still finding my way around,” Richard replied gratefully, standing up to put his coffee cup in the sink and walk to his new classroom with Taron, making small talk on the way there such as ‘what are the students like?’ or ‘are the other teachers nice?’ questions which Taron had elaborate answers for but not enough time to tell all his stories about, which resulted in him awkwardly asking Richard if he would maybe want to meet up for a drink at some point so he can “tell him his many stories”. Richard quickly agreed, which actually surprised Taron.

“Great, yeah, cool, I’ll talk to you soon then and we can..you know, arrange..something,” Taron stumbled very ungracefully and not near as smoothly as he thought that would sound in his head before he said it, inwardly facepalming.

“Yeah yeah good shout, see you later,” Richard smiled warmly, disappearing into his new classroom, pretending not to be trembling ever so slightly.

Later that night

Taron was curled up at the end of his sofa, iPad in his lap ready to open Facebook to try and find Richard and have a small social media stalk just to see his face again, those big blue eyes were calling him. He racked his brain for his surname, what was he introduced as? It definitely began with an M. He began typing ‘Richard M’ hoping facebook would magically know who he was searching for, but Richard was too common of a name. 

“Mm…M…Mmm, ma?” he thought aloud before pausing suddenly, “Madden!” he sighed, rolling his eyes at his own forgetfulness. He typed in the name and found him pretty easily. Excitedly clicking on his profile and doing the obligatory flick through the profile pictures, short scroll down the feed, clicking on some pictures he’d been tagged in, asking himself if this was creepy or if everyone did it. Or both. He also mentally noted to himself to remind Richard that now he’s a teacher, changing his privacy settings would be a very smart idea, some of those students are crazy, especially for young male teachers like Richard and Taron.

Cute Taron thought to himself, zooming in on a group photo when he spotted Richard chilling in the far left of it. He came out of the picture and hovered his finger over the  ‘add friend’ button, wondering if it was too soon. At that moment, as if in some sort of cartoon or movie, the bread he had put in the toaster a few minutes ago suddenly popped up, making him jump and press the button by accident. How does that even happen? He definitely looked too eager adding him already but it was done now, no point cancelling the request in case Richard already had his phone in his hand, that would be even more weird. Taron put his iPad to the side to grab his toast, buttering it and bringing it back to the sofa, noticing his iPad light up with a message. He hurriedly sat down and ignored the toast he had just made, picking the iPad up hastily and opening the message.

1 new message: Richard Madden Richard: hey, again x

“Heh,” Taron chuckled, loving a guy that puts a single kiss at the end of a message, deciding he should reflect his message the same way.

Taron: hey you x

Taron flinched after hitting send, realising suddenly how weird that sounded.

Richard: ha, ‘you’ love that x

Taron: yea sorry wasn’t thinking haha x

Richard: no you’re fine it’s sweet! when are we going for that drink then? x

Taron: well when are you free?x

Richard’s typing bubble appeared, disappeared and reappeared quite a few times suggesting he was on the fence about his answer, a quirk which Taron found quite cute. 

Richard: ...tomorrow night?x

Taron: yep definitely up for that! How did your first day go by the way? Didn’t end up seeing you for the rest of the day x

Richard: yeah was all good definitely didn’t need to be as nervous as I was x

Taron: nice one knew you’d smash it mate! Anyway I better eat the toast that I forgot about and get to bed, bright and early for school tomorrow!x

Richard: I know right feels weird saying school tomorrow again but as a teacher now not a student, sure I’ll get used to it, night T x

“T, I like that..” Taron thought, should he nickname Richard too? It only seemed fair..

Taron: night Rich x

Taron lay his iPad down on the table for the last time that day, shovelling toast in his mouth before taking his plate to the kitchen to wash up and get settled for bed, trying to ignore the slight feeling of butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about his drink with Rich the following night, this might be a doorway into the exact thing he promised himself not to do when he started this job, but he couldn’t resist. 

________________________________________________________

Tag list: @taron-eggmcmuffin

#madderton #madderton fanfiction #richard madden #taron egerton #taron x richard #richard x taron #fanfiction #teacher #madderton teacher au #alternate universe #teacher au #rocketman

[doctorgerth]

Sorry I like to read people's tags and I just wanted to say I'm also super bad at conversations and I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you were being annoying while talking to me you definitely were not I just also have the same problem when it comes to talking to people (where I feel like I'm being annoying and should just go away) and also sometimes have limited capacity for conversation which makes it extra fun lmao but you're a lovely person and you're so not alone with this 😅💕💕

Ahh, thanks for reaching out, Leyna! And you don’t have to apologize. Most (if not all) people are never rude to me, which is why I really hate my brain bc it always ruins good things by telling me that ppl only talk to me to be nice. And another problem of mine is I place a lot (if not too much) importance on people and conversations and I get a bit...I dunno clingy or dependent in a way? And when someone takes a while to respond, my brain automatically assumes that I’ve done something to annoy or piss them off. Basically, my brain functions very similarly to @varia-venus in her post here.

And it’s so unfair for me to beat myself up like that because I am the one who is shit at holding conversations. I’m lucky if I find someone who can keep up with me and encourages me to talk more bc I tend to shrivel up and either A) think that this person doesn’t really want to talk to me or B) life gets in the way and I’m not able to respond for hours or days and I feel like this person has given up on me and I don’t deserve to waste any more of their time. Sometimes both?

And with discords, I’ve been invited to some in the past and idk I just don’t feel as involved as I would like. And that’s of course no one’s fault but my own bc my dumb brain makes me hesitate and before I know it, I’m just scrolling thru long ass threads of conversations held without me and I don’t think I deserve to join in. So I either remain a ghost on there, lurking and reading every now and then, or I just end up abandoning the discord all together.

I just feel like ppl build up expectations for me when they try to chat with me. Whether that’s thru my ask box or private message or whatever. Ppl treat me like I’m something special on here sometimes, and though I do appreciate that, it’s not very accurate. Because I always let them down bc I am boring and whiny as hell lmao I tend to think people don’t care much for me outside of writing. Which is also stupid bc I have friends who either regularly talk to me or check on me every now and then. But my anxiety just spits negative thoughts at me constantly.

TLDR; My brain is really stupid and has convinced me that I’m no good at socializing, so I just don’t really do it lol

#vent #sry for the sad talk #it be like that tho #leynadoodles

[yakocchi]

Be My Princess Social // Yakov Chernenkov, Season 1, Episodes 2&3

The Job of the Exclusive Designer // Prince Yakov’s Dance Partner

1・2/3・

yeahhh boi 2 eps in one post, trying to do the zoomies with progress so i can get to the better parts in terms of being less judged by ikemen elsa sorry for potentially clogging the tag with this stuff. i’ll see if i can do larger chunks as this goes along to prevent that... but i also don’t really want to make these posts too large tho... i’m noticing with the new dash it just extends the post on the dash directly when you click the read more break, which...........huh

on an unrelated note - tbh there’s not that... much “actual” content going on in the other otome mobage i’m playing rn so i’m more inclined to move this along. sorry for those who follow me for other stuff, but we’re at the boring july lull where it’s just swimsuit/beach stuff. zzz maybe in a week or two i can wake up

Image-heavy!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

blog link of this post here, if you’d rather read this on my blog directly than on dash. otherwise:

Episode 2 // The Job of the Exclusive Designer

➤ as an aside, i’m going to start using italics on dialogue for emphasis more often. takes less brain power than having to restructure the sentence and the like just to utilize emphasis based on word use and/or adding words or phrases........ i’m not a trained editor ok orz i’ll try not to overkill with it tho.... otherwise it’ll be italics overkill with the (internal thoughts italics)

I had received an invitation from Lord Nobel himself to become the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil― And earlier, I wholeheartedly decided to accept that offer.

However, I know for sure that the Prince is someone I’ve encountered before. (I would’ve never considered that these two were the prince and steward of Sanct Sybil...) The Prince takes a seat on the couch, and Zain presents a few documents to him.

[Zain]: “Here is Miss Kara’s resume, along with her past design sketches.” [Prince Yakov]: “...I shall take a look.” Taking the documents, he sets the design sketches aside on the table. The face and overall mood the Prince wears as he scans the papers are unreadable. (Ahh...I’m so nervous...) I shift my eyes away from the Prince, breathing out a soft sigh. In doing so, my line of sight stops right at the butler standing next to him. (If I’m remembering correctly, I’m pretty sure his name is Yuri.) (Prince Yakov certainly is terrifying, with an intimidating aura to boot – but... This guy’s scary in a whole different way.) With a sidelong glance at Yuri, the smile he’s been wearing this whole time doesn’t even crack in the slightest. Though it was visually the same smile as the one he wore while pinning down that man in the courtyard,  the Yuri before my eyes only has the vibe of a mild-mannered steward today. (Neither of them have said anything out loud regarding that past incident... but, without a doubt, they definitely remember me from that time.)

My body buckled down thinking about it when Prince Yakov then looked up from the papers in his hands. [Prince Yakov]: "I understand that she hails from the offices of the famed Jean Pierre.” [Prince Yakov]: “However... from these documents, it appears that there are no records of previous accolades of any kind – but?” His brows cross slightly as he inquires Lord Nobel about it. With a nod, His Grace turns his gaze to the design sketches on the tabletop.

[Nobel]: “It’s true that given her very brief time under those offices, she has yet to gain any formal accolades for herself.” [Nobel]: “But, you should take a look at these designs. Surely then you can notice her capabilities.” [Prince Yakov]: “...I see.” Paying no heed to the design sketches, the Prince places the resume over the table.

(The work of a designer with no actual accomplishments – it’s something he’d have no interest for, I would think.) (Even though the likes of Lord Nobel and Jean Pierre have especially recommended me... I’m pretty sure I’m going to get rejected.) Feeling uneasy as I look over his expression, the Prince slowly exhales. As if contemplating something, he makes a bit of a troubled face while meeting Lord Nobel’s gaze. [Prince Yakov]: “―If someone like Your Grace is sponsoring her, I suppose that the lack of past achievements will not be a problem.”

[Prince Yakov]: “I shall invite her to be the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil castle.” (Huh...?) [Nobel]: “I see. Well, when can Kara come to Sanct Sybil?” [Prince Yakov]: “About that... As soon as the formalities have been taken care of, we shall arrange to let her live in the castle at once.” [Prince Yakov]: “―Yuri, proceed with the proper formalities.” [Yuri]: “Understood.” [Yuri]: “With that, Miss Kara, here are the documents detailing the contents of the position.” Yuri, disregarding my surprised state, hands me some papers. (Without looking at even a single one of my designs, he’s decided to accept me as the castle’s designer...) (Is this really okay?)

With my apprehensive thoughts, I...

➢ Question Prince Yakov. ❆  ➢ Question Yuri.

  ➢ Question Prince Yakov. [Kara]: “P-Please wait...!” I call out to the Prince, who looked like he was about to take his leave. [Kara]: “Um... is this really all right?” [Prince Yakov]: “What of it?” [Kara]: "Without even reviewing my designs, you’ve accepted me as the castle’s designer.” Questioning the Prince, his eyebrows slightly knit. [Prince Yakov]: “The appointment of high-level positions has been entrusted to me by the King himself. There is no problem.” [Prince Yakov]: “―This discussion is over for now. Finish looking over those documents as soon as possible.”  ➼

  ➢ Question Yuri. Seeing at the Prince engaged in conversation with Lord Nobel, I look at Yuri next to me. [Kara]: “Um... Yuri. Am I really the right one for the job?” (Even if Jean Pierre and Lord Nobel have recommended me, this still seems like too much for a fresh newcomer...) [Yuri]: “His Highness made his decision, so there is no need to worry.” With a smile etched over his face, he presses the documents towards me once more.  ➼ 

   ➼ [Yuri]: “Thus, please do review these documents.” [Yuri]: “First– On the contract, can you sign here?” [Yuri]: “If His Highness ends up also signing this, your position will become official.” [Kara]: “...Understood.” Dissatisfaction wallowing within me, I receive the papers.

Kara, visibly perplexed about something, proceeds with the contract formalities. Lord Nobel, who watched this state of affairs from a distance, then turns to face Yakov.

[Nobel]: “Kara, make no mistake, will be an essential figure for Sanct Sybil.” [Nobel]: “And then I believe that the day you, Prince Yakov, will become a great power will surely come.” [Prince Yakov]: “...Your Grace, you hold her in high regard.” [Nobel]: “I sense this great enthusiasm and potential within her.” Lord Nobel beams, and speaks as if to emphasize its importance. [Nobel]: “I’m earnestly entrusting her with you, all right?” [Prince Yakov]: “...Duly noted, Your Grace.” The Prince nods at Lord Nobel’s words, his expression unchanging.

➤ ok from this moment forward i’m only labeling him as [Yakov] bc i don’t like how it doesn’t line up with the other names when it’s long. the prince title is still there and all ye

(At long last, I've come...) Stepping out of the arranged car, I stop in my tracks and look up at Sybil Castle. The castle differed from that of Nobel Castle in that I was quite overwhelmed by its solemn appearance― When Yakov’s personal steward, Yuri, greets me with a smile on his face.

[Yuri]: “―Miss Kara, we have been awaiting your arrival. Welcome to Sanct Sybil.” [Kara]: “Thank you for everything so far.” While exchanging fellow greetings, I shiver from the chilly air. Yuri then guides me towards the entrance of the castle. [Yuri]: “Your luggage will be brought in by personnel. Over here, come in.” [Kara]: “Ah-...Thank you.” Nervous, I follow Yuri and head into the castle.

[Yuri]: “The climate of Sanct Sybil and Charles are significantly different from each other. It must have given you quite the shock.” [Kara]: “Yes. ...I’m glad that you told me about it in advance.” On those work documents I had received in Nobel Castle, it included an explanation that informed me of the country’s climate. [Kara]: “But I didn’t think it would be this cold.” [Kara]: “If I hadn’t been told, I would’ve came here without preparing for anything like it.” [Yuri]: “It is because we are expecting snowfall very soon around here.” [Yuri]: “Everyone who comes to this country for the first time always is astonished by the cold, too.” Smiling, he urges me to walk ahead of him. [Yuri]: “So to start off, I shall show you around the castle.” [Yuri]: “We will stop by the studio first and then Our Lady’s room right after.” [Kara]: “...Thank you very much.” [Kara]: “Um, Yuri. As we’re both just employees working under the same castle, I’d like it if you didn’t call me ‘Miss’, but...” Expressing my thoughts, Yuri nods, smiling. [Yuri]: “Understood.” [Yuri]: “Then, Kara, let us head to the studio.” [Kara]: “Okay.” (A studio, huh... I wonder what kind of place it is.) 

[Yuri]: “This here will be your personal studio.” [Yuri]: “You can use anything in here to produce to your heart’s desire.” [Yuri]: “If you ever need more of anything, I can make the proper arrangements for you – So please, tell me when that is the case.” [Kara]: “Y-Yes...” (...You wouldn’t expect anything less from the castle of a royal family; the facilities here are just superb.) Surveying the studio, I sigh in admiration of the room. I had been also shown the more important areas of the castle– and the dignified atmosphere of it all just easily overpowered me entirely. (With this level of equipment prepared, it’ll be even more inappropriate to make anything half-baked.) Feeling the pressure once more, Yuri then grins. [Yuri]: “There’s no need to be so anxious.” [Yuri]: “–I suppose it would have been better if I had handed these to you beforehand.” Yuri pulls out a stack of papers from the studio shelves. [Kara]: “And this is...?” [Yuri]: “These are the documents that you will be taking up from the previous designer.” Accepting the documents, I flip through the pages. (This, is...) On the sheets were essential notes regarding designs used for Prince Yakov in terms of public business, ceremonies and similar matters, along with a compilation of things like patterns that had been used in the past. [Yuri]: “His Highness is not the type to fuss over design details and the like,” [Yuri]: “so it will not be necessary to make any major alterations on the designs we have used so far.” [Yuri]: "Since you just have to follow these references to produce the garments, I do not think it is a difficult task.” (That’s... something that doesn’t require my capability as a designer...) [Kara]: “Um... These documents passed down to me – the previous designer was the one who drew them up, right?” [Yuri]: “Indeed. Because of the replacements we have made nowadays, they have already been forced to resign from this castle, but.” [Kara]: “Uh... Why did that happen?” (If I’m being made to produce solely based on their previous work, the past designer must have been at least recognized for their skill.) (So, given that, why would they be made to retire...?) Thinking how strange that was, I ask Yuri and he gives further explanation. [Yuri]: "It was so they could be replaced with the fresh, new talent that you yourself are included in.” [Yuri]: "Various departments in this castle have undergone massive layoffs.” [Yuri]: "And because of that, several individuals in the castle right now, including yourself, are newly hired.” [Kara]: “Layoffs...” As far as I can see with these old documents, it looks like the previous designer was definitely competent. So, with that– why would they think it was necessary to go out of their way and replace them? (Not only that, but replacing the majority of the castle faculty as well...) Completely stunned by the reality of this place, Yuri clarifies this in an indifferent tone. [Yuri]: ”Those who had been laid off were simply the type of talent the Sybil of today is not looking for.”

[Yuri]: ”...I had been thinking that you were going to learn about such things sooner or later.” He said this to me with that unbreakable smile of his,  and I was at a loss for words.

[Yuri]: “―Kara, this will be your room.” [Yuri]: "As soon as His Highness’s conference concludes, I will be coming back to pick you up. Until then, please feel free to spend your time however you wish.” [Kara]: “Got it.” (For now, I might as well unpack...) When Yuri took his leave, I began to organize my luggage; but with my grim mood, it was considerably hard to make any progress with it. [Kara]: “Make the clothes according to the provided diagrams, huh...” Don’t “design”― In other words I was practically told to be a designer, but not to actually work as a designer for the most part. (Something like that is going to be my real job here in this castle...) The documents that had detailed the job read the same as any other designer position, but the actual work ended up being completely different than from what I had initially pictured. (And to think, both Pierre and Lord Nobel took effort to recommend me for this...)

(Well, if they were truly willing to hire someone with no experience... anyone would’ve sufficed, then.) I hung my head with a sigh, when my hand slips and drops the bag I was holding. [Kara]: “Ah-...” My work tools and design sketches scatter all over the floor. (Jeez... What am I doing...) Gathering up my sketches in a fluster, one of the designs then incidentally catches my eye.

It was a sheet of one of the most particularly memorable designs I had made since I became a part of the Jean Pierre offices.  (This... Pierre scolded me about it, and then I reworked it several times...) [Kara]: “...Takes me back a bit.” (The first time I received praise for my work, I was so happy that I even forwarded the message to my parents too, I recall.) Going through page by page of my saved designs, they were filled with my personal tender thoughts from those times. The shabbier designs too― every single one was a precious treasure to me. (If I make designs by just following those old documents to a T, I’m certain... that the resulting designs wouldn’t make me feel this same way.) (Besides...)

[Jean Pierre]: “From your designs, I feel this power to them.”  [Jean Pierre]: “There are some parts that are rough around the edges, but there’s this energy, one that can completely transform people, hidden within!” [Jean Pierre]: “Lord Nobel definitely sensed that too, I bet.”    [Jean Pierre]: “Please believe in yourself.” [Jean Pierre]: “I, as well as His Grace, would never recommend someone who we’d feel couldn’t do the job.” [Jean Pierre]: “I believe in your potential, ma petite.”

(That’s right – I’ve... been recommended by the likes of Jean Pierre and Lord Nobel.) (I want to do work – work that can actually be called that of a designer!) Determined, I hastily round up the design sketches.

[Yuri]: “ ―Pardon me.” [Yuri]: “I have brought the designer, Kara.” At Yuri’s cue, I come into the office and see Prince Yakov surrounded by a great mass of documents. One after another, he scans through each page before giving it his signature – and while in surprise at his current state, I bow my head.

[Kara]: “Starting today, I, Kara Go, will be at your service.  ―Pleased to work with you.” [Yakov]: “Mhm.” His eyes continued to focus on the documents as he replied, never looking away.

[Yakov]: “Getting straight to the point― I am calling on you to produce apparel for a party that we are hosting two weeks from now.” [Yakov]: “As it has been planned that you will also attend this party as the castle’s designer, make sure to prepare your own dress.” (Two weeks from now... that sudden?) [Kara]: “Um... Do you have any requests regarding the garments themselves?” [Kara]: “I’d like to hear if you have any preferences concerning things like design, color, material, but...” [Yakov]: “You can design your own dress however you want – however,” [Yakov]: “provided that you do not make anything disgraceful as the exclusive designer of this castle.” Along with these severe demands, he somehow has even more to say. [Yakov]: ”Regarding my own attire, you may refer to the prior templates.” [Yakov]: “After this, you will have to produce clothing meant for official business; but as long as you do not deviate from those templates, that will be adequate.” [Yakov]: “―That is all to be discussed, so you may leave now.”  Without looking in my direction, he declared these matters bluntly. Apparently consenting to his demands, Yuri bows with that same perpetual smile. [Yuri]: “Then, please excuse us. Let us depart, Kara.” [Kara]: “...” [Yuri]: “...Kara?” When Yuri had turned to the door to leave, he then tilts his head as he saw me still frozen in place. (If I back down now, I won’t be able to show my face to Jean Pierre and the others who bothered to recommend me...) With that in mind, I...

➢ "I can’t do that.” ➢ “Give me some more of your time.” ❆  

➢ "I can’t do that.”  [Kara]: “...I cannot.” [Yuri]: “Kara, what are you saying?” [Kara]: “I cannot... produce clothing according to the prior templates.” ➼  

➢ “Give me some more of your time.” I take a single step toward the Prince and say this directly to him― [Kara]: “I must deeply apologize for such, but I would like some more of your time.” [Kara]: “There are some things that I would like Your Highness to take a look at.” [Yakov]: “But I do believe that I had said that this discussion is over?”  [Kara]: “There are still things I’d like to hear from you about. Please, just give me a little more of your time...!” ➼

➼ With these words, I put the file I was holding onto over his office desk. [Kara]: “These here are some of my best designs.” Opening the file, I spread the design sketches over the desk space. They were a variety of designs I’ve drawn so far. [Kara]: "I’m still lacking a bit, but I shall study more starting today. With that, I'll be able to create a great multitude of clothing.” [Kara]: “So, given that – please tell me about the types of designs that Your Highness likes.” [Yakov]: “...Did you not hear what I had just said?” [Yakov]: “My own preferences are irrelevant. As I said before, you may use a design from the notes of the previous designer.” He finally takes his eyes off the documents and looks at me for the first time. Though I felt like cowering beneath that chilly gaze, I attempt to convey my intentions to him. [Kara]: “So as to not destroy the current image of Sanct Sybil, I will also refer to the previous notes at times.” [Kara]: ”However, I’m thinking that Your Highness would just prefer to continue wearing the designs that have been used until now.” [Kara]: “Is that your preferred fashion style, sir?”  

[Yakov]: “...What is your point?” [Kara]: “If that’s indeed the case, then as a designer I will make such designs accordingly.” [Kara]: “But if I’ve gotten the wrong idea, can you please tell me what you actually prefer?” [Kara]: “From now on, rather than to simply just make clothes for Your Highness – I want to know what types of designs you like.” [Kara]: “I’m a designer, so my job is to make clothes that people actually want to wear...!” [Yakov]: “...” At the end of my explanation, the office was greeted by silence. The tension engulfs my body, the prickly sensation almost piercing my skin, when the Prince rises from his chair and approaches me. [Yakov]: “...Giving my opinion here―“

[Yakov]: “In terms of that encounter back at Nobel Castle, and of now… You’re quite the spirited woman.” [Kara]: “Ah…” (As I had previously suspected – he did remember me from the actual first time we met.)

[Yakov]: “To start, I will say this to you.” [Yakov]: “I only desire one, and just one thing from you.”  [Yakov]: “―It is the very fact that you are a designer that Lord Nobel himself has recommended, and that is all there is to it.” [Kara]: “...So, concerning myself– anything other than that fact is of no value to you, is what you’re saying?” [Yakov]: “Correct. It would have been better if you had prior achievements, but I shall compromise on that.” He takes yet another step closer and levels a sharp gaze at me. [Yakov]: “Of course, you are not the only one under these circumstances. In this castle, all of the human capital assembled here are renowned in their respective fields...” [Yakov]: “By hiring these types of individuals, the reputation of Sanct Sybil will increase dramatically.”

(I was called to this castle for such a reason…) (And this must be why the previous designer, as well as some other employees, had been laid off.)

➤ haha did u think this was gonna be a route where she actually got hired out of genuine appreciation of her work

While I was struck silent in shock, Prince Yakov extends his hand towards me. Tucking his fingers under my chin, he lifts my head so I directly face him.

[Yakov]: “―There is also one more thing.”

[Yakov]: “If you wish to hear of my tastes - you will have to ask me more alluringly.” His blue irises, like brilliant sapphires - narrowed mockingly. Being stared at such a close range made my cheeks flare in an instant. [Kara]: “Th-That’s not what I had meant, so… please excuse me!”  (How mortifying... He’s just totally messing with me...!) I swiftly detach from him before hurriedly bowing my head and rushing out of the office.

[Yakov]: “Kara Go, hm…?” With a low murmur, he turns through the pages of design sketches over his office desk. A moment later, having finished looking through them, the memory of his conversation with Lord Nobel a few days ago drifts into his head.

[Nobel]: “Kara, make no mistake, will be an essential figure for Sanct Sybil.” [Nobel]: “And I believe that the day you, Prince Yakov, will become a great power will surely come.” [Prince Yakov]: “...Your Grace, you hold her in high regard.” [Nobel]: “I sense this great enthusiasm and potential within her.”

[Yakov]: “...Someone based on Lord Nobel’s hopes alone is like this, hm?”

Having observed his master’s countenance, Yuri speaks his inner thoughts. [Yuri]: ”When I had first met her, I had thought that she appeared to be the timid type with no self-confidence – but...” [Yuri]: “She seems like quite the intriguing individual, instead.” [Yuri]: “I did not think that she would have that sort of conviction to her character.” [Yakov]: “…” Not responding to Yuri’s comments, Yakov signs a single sheet from the pile of documents on his desk. [Yakov]: “I have finished confirming this. Take it away.” [Yuri]: “Of course.” When Yuri removed the sheet, atop the stack of remaining sheets sat Kara’s official employment documents. On it, was the Prince’s signature of approval― 

To be continued...  

(Letter)

From: Yuri Title: The Unexpected

You appear to be quite firm in your own beliefs. We do not often come across those who are able to plainly express their own opinions in front of His Highness. ...I am, just a touch, interested to see what comes in the future. From here on out– I look forward to working with you.

Episode 3 // Prince Yakov’s Dance Partner

Two weeks after coming to Sanct Sybil to serve as the royal castle’s exclusive designer― Coming to the party hall, I’m overwhelmed by its extravagance and grand scale. (Such a massive amount of people have gathered here tonight...)

[Guest A]: “It seems that Sanct Sybil has finally started to seriously put their plan to join the Alliance of the Six Kingdoms in motion.” [Guest B]: “Mhm. This time, it looks like they’re holding this party for the announcement, but... famous figures around the world have come here to see.” (Really?... This is a spectacular party, huh.) Along with famous figures from every country, several media outlets have come as well, and once again I sense the sheer level of attention focused on this country right now. (Ah-... If I’m not mistaken, that person’s a famous pâtissier.)  In this party, those who had been brought here for this castle, like me, have also been chosen to attend. Within that group of those serving under this castle, several of them are internationally renowned, and each of them respond to the media reporters and journalists in kind. As I watched the crowds at a distance, I overhear them talking about having been hired at around the same time frame as me. [Guest A]: “Since that pastry chef over there was the sole winner of that championship, it’s no surprise they’re getting a lot of attention from the press.” [Guest B]: “Same as the rest of us, the main task they have here is to respond to the media.” [Guest B]: “Well, if I do my work exactly the way the documents told me to, that’s good enough.” [Guest B]: “The rest is just 'fun’ work where we just have to smile in front of the cameras.”  (Like I thought, others in the castle have been made to work in the same fashion as I had been directed.) (It’s been the same for me, too... Ever since I came to this castle, I’ve been receiving a lot of media coverage about me.)

It had been decided that my position as Sybil Castle’s designer is to be permanent, and in the studio I promptly flip open my sketchbook. (The deadline is in two weeks... There’s not that much time for me to think up ideas for my own dress.) For the party they’re hosting two weeks from now, I must make both a uniform for Prince Yakov and a dress for myself. Just as I immediately began to start on my designs, Yuri appeared.

[Yuri]: “Please excuse me. Kara, can you come into another room as soon as possible?” [Kara]: “Um... Is there something?” [Yuri]: “Starting today, those who have been brought to this castle are to receive the presence of news reporters and similar outlets.” [Kara]: “News reporters...?”   [Yuri]: “Yes. His Highness had also told you about it the other day, I recall.” [Yuri]: “Those appointed to work here as a result of the immense scale of the layoffs have been brought here for the purpose of attracting the media’s attention and to increase our reputation.” (Since that’s yet another part of this job that I was specifically sought out to do, I don’t have a choice here...) [Kara]: ”...I understand.” [Yuri]: "It will be all right. As most of the media’s questions have been chosen in advance, we have also prepared answers for you to use.” And so during the days preceding the party, I had countless interviews with the press.

(With stuff like this, I can’t really call myself a designer, now can I?...) I did somehow manage to sew together the requested garments in-between interviews, but other than that, for the most part, I haven’t done anything that can be considered the work of a designer. Letting a sigh leave me as I stood in the corner of the party hall, the press took notice of this and began to come over in my direction. (...Must be another interview, huh.) I think over the words I had decided on for these sort of media interactions in my head, when Prince Yakov then appeared atop the stage platform. That was enough for the eyes of the everyone in the venue to then gather over in his direction.

[Yakov]: “―Today, I would like to make an announcement to those who have congregated here.” [Yakov]: “Sanctis, Sybil, Versurk...”  [Yakov]: “From the unification of these three lands, they were reborn as a brand new nation, the country of Sanct Sybil. [Yakov]: "Of course, not much time has passed since our new country has been founded. However, as of recently, this country has assembled a great number of talented people with promising futures.” The figure of the Prince as he surveyed the large crowd of guests was so gallant and majestic that I was completely entranced.

However, seeing the Prince clad in a uniform that strictly followed the templates that the previous designer had left behind stabbed my chest with a dull pain. (I wanted to make a design that was based on the Prince’s preferred colors and designs, after all.) Since his formal request, I didn’t have much time until the party to begin with, and then there were other things like those interviews― So ultimately, I ended up producing a uniform according to those old notes from the previous designer. (...It’s clothing that I made, but it doesn’t have that sort of feeling to it at all.)

[Yakov]: "Henceforth, Sanct Sybil will now direct its attention towards the early stages of joining the Nobel Michel Alliance.” [Yakov]: "As one nation united, we shall surely endeavor to accomplish joining the Alliance.” Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd of guests. (I have no real connection to this... It’s like I’m listening to a speech for the events occurring in a faraway country...) While further applause was granted to the Prince, the reporters from before begin to move closer again. (I’m not confident that I’ll put out a good interview right now...) As if to escape from this place, I head to the balcony.

(Like you’d think – Even with a dress made for winter, it’s cold out here...) Even wearing a dress and capelet made of thick fabric, the Sybil night still carries a chill of stinging cold. While shivering, I gaze up at the sky above, and there were stars twinkling over the clear horizon.  (Prince Yakov’s speech was absolutely magnificent.) (But...) A little before that speech, I realized that I don’t truly feel like I’m the designer of Sanct Sybil Castle. [Kara]: “...With the way things are now, I wonder if the day I can be honestly called the exclusive designer of this castle will actually come,” I murmured as I vacantly stared deep into the sky, when―

[Yakov]: “―It appears that the party is not to your liking.”

(Huh…?) Turning my head at hearing a voice behind me, I see Prince Yakov walking over in my direction. [Kara]: “Your Highness…” [Kara]: “Is it all right for an honored prince to sneak out of the party?” [Yakov]: “This is merely a small break. I cannot endure such things without at least resting for a moment.” Replying with an indignant look on his face, he comes up to my side. Leaning against the railing to gaze over the courtyard, a small sigh escapes him. [Yakov]: “Every time I pass by someone, I get asked the same things, and then I’m made to answer with the same things over and over again like some sort of cockatoo.” [Kara]: “That... I feel the same about that.” [Kara]: “Every time I have an interview I get asked the same things, and then I just answer with the replies Yuri had prepared for me, over and over again.” Looking over the courtyard like the Prince was, I think back to the things that have happened since I’ve come to this castle. Even though I should be called a “designer”, it’s just pitiful that I can’t receive the essential work for it. [Kara]: “But... that’s the sort of thing I was brought here to do.” [Yakov]: “Are you contempt with that?” [Kara]: “Ah―“

At the Prince’s question, I reply with...

➢ “It’s more a feeling of helplessness.” ❆ ➢ “It’s frustrating, yes.”

➤ for some reason i don’t have the text for the latter choice, rip. maybe i can try coming across it (and the other missing answers) on my bmp2 alt later idk

➢ “It’s more a feeling of helplessness.” ❆

[Kara]: “Rather than feeling contempt... it’s more that I feel helpless about it.” [Yakov]: “’Helpless’?” [Kara]: “Yes. I can’t express anything in my own words― and while it doesn’t mean I haven’t accomplished absolutely anything here...” [Kara]: “At the very least, if I was able to accomplish just one thing by myself, that’d be all right... but I can’t even manage that and I’m just useless.” [Yakov]: “...I see.” I heard a sense of immediate realization in his voice. (I say all of this, but you didn’t ask for such things.) (After all, you said if Lord Nobel was the one recommending me, then that would be enough...)

Thinking such things, I stay silent, when the Prince gives a trace of a wry smile.

[Yakov]: “Certainly... considering someone like yourself, that is simply absurdity.” (Huh...?) With his unexpected reply, I instinctively turn my head in his direction. Meeting my eyes, the Prince continues to speak in a tone... where I could not tell if it was of admiration or of exasperation. 

[Yakov]: “I realized it from before when we had conversed in the office―” [Yakov]: “You are the type of person who thinks for oneself, and acts according to their own beliefs and convictions.” [Yakov]: “You do not intend to gain recognition as a designer by adopting someone else’s brilliance and being a mere imitation of them.” [Kara]: “Th-That’s...” The Prince saw right through the misery I’ve been harboring ever since I came to Sybil, and my eyes widen in surprise. His eyebrows knit in apparent suspicion as he stares straight at me.

[Yakov]: “You look as if you want to say something.” [Kara]: “N-No... Your response was just different from what I had expected, so I was surprised.” (―As I didn’t realize that His Highness, in reality, actually understood me a lot...) [Yakov]: “...It is not like I have been at peace with things either.”

[Yakov]: “As the prince of a country, I believe that I have a good judge of character.” [Yakov]: “From your words and actions up to this point... and also from looking at your designs, anyone would have a firm grasp of your character.” [Kara]: “The design sketches... you looked at them?” [Yakov]: “Incidentally, while confirming your documents.” Asserting haughtily, the Prince’s blue irises subtly glint.

[Yakov]: “I know what must be going on in your head. However, even recognizing that – I cannot afford to end this farce.” [Kara]: “Why... is that so?” [Yakov]: “...Things are not limited to only when the country’s desires and my own thoughts are similar.” (That’s...) Opening my mouth, I was about to ask him what he meant by that― But before I could, a voice speaks up from behind me.

[???]: “―Yakov. So you were over here, in a place like this.” [Yakov]: “The King...” (Eh-...the King?!) Turning around, standing over there was the King and Queen. Prince Yakov’s face stiffens and he suddenly bows his head. I follow his lead and bow as well when the Prince’s voice resounds with a rigid tone. [Yakov]: “My sincere apologies. I was getting a bit of fresh air.” [King]: “Is that right...” The King’s direct line of sight casually falls onto me. The Prince takes note of this and he gives a brief introduction. [Yakov]: “The subject before you is the designer I had hired recently.” [King]: “Ah, the one recommended by Lord Nobel, is it?” [King]: “Having secured a connection with Nobel Castle, we are making more and more progress in opening the path towards becoming an ally.” [Yakov]: “...Yes.” At the Prince’s answer, as if remembering something the King continues to speak. [King]: “By the way, what of the new Minister of Foreign Affairs? I heard that the previous Minister on that seat showed considerable resistance upon the notion of dismissal, but...” [Yakov]: “The newly-appointed Minister is doing a favorable job.” [Yakov]: “As he is well-known in other countries, he performs all according to plan.” [Yakov]: “There is no need for concern.” [King]: “I see. Strive to maintain these conditions.” [Yakov]: “Understood.” Satisfied with the Prince’s words, the King takes his leave with the Queen. (...Even though they’re father and son, it’s much more like a chief and his subordinate.) (The life of royalty is like that, huh...?)  From the beginning to the end of their businesslike conversation, the Prince and King did not smile at each other. As I recall the uncomfortable feeling that hung over their entire exchange, Prince Yakov speaks with derision towards some part of himself.

[Yakov]: “...Right now, what this country needs is status – One could also call it ‘brand power’.” [Kara]: “’Brand power’...” [Yakov]: “For this country of mine, a country that only recently came into existence, to be on par with a developed country,” [Yakov]: “brand power that can be boasted among the other countries is necessary... That is the current way of thinking for Sanct Sybil.” (But, it doesn’t seem that His Highness himself wants that...) The “farce” he had mentioned earlier, along with the unspoken words he had purposefully left out, appeared to be of Prince Yakov’s true opinions on the matter. (But... Given his position as a prince, I wonder if he just can’t set things in motion based on his true feelings alone?)

➤ ok i get that it’s supposed to be his future job and all but why does it feel like yakov is doing all the legwork for this alliance while the king is sitting in the back eating some doritos. excuse me u seem pretty alive and well portraitless king what are u doing with everyones taxpayer money

Pondering these complicated thoughts, I look up at the Prince – and noticing me, the corners of his lips quirk up.

[Yakov]: “What’s the discontent face for?” [Yakov]: “If I rejoin the party, bringing in a woman that’s sulking like that – I’ll be quite troubled.” [Kara]: “It’s not that... I’m sulking, precisely...” I was about to refute his statement when he takes my hand to cut me off. [Kara]: “P...Prince Yakov...?” [Yakov]: “The piece has changed.”  ➤ musical piece fyi [Yakov]: “Let’s go.” [Kara]: “Huh....?!”

Prince Yakov returns to the party venue, and makes his way to the center of the dance hall. [Guest A]: “My, it seems that Prince Yakov is going to dance!” [Guest B]: “I’m so envious of his partner~!”

➤ mmm idk about that one friend really ot but thinking abt it... i shouldve used that one dance cg as the one for this header bc spoilers, there’s no more formal dancing after this....... fuc i assure u this is very important bc there’s only like negative 7 yakov cgs i can use that aren’t riddled with unrelated clothing (weird knight uniform, yukata, apron, no clothes at all, etc.)

(We’re attracting a significant amount of attention... with me, someone who can’t dance at all...) Feeling under pressure from the eyes of the crowd, I inadvertently hang my head. In doing so, Prince Yakov whispers to me at a volume that the surrounding guests would be unable to hear.

[Yakov]: “Even if it is just for this moment – As my partner, you must face up.” [Kara]: “’Partner’…” [Kara]: “I can’t really dance for the most part... Surely, I will humiliate Your Highness.” Even at this point, I want him to stop. I was about to call for his sympathy when I lifted my head up at him,  and unexpectedly see his face so close to mine. (Ah…) Illuminated by the glittering chandelier above, Prince Yakov was the most captivating figure out of everyone in the entire hall. His dignified appearance, along with an expression that was brimming with self-confidence― easily stole away my gaze from looking anywhere, anything else.

[Yakov]: “I already know that you cannot dance and the like.” [Yakov]: “Without thinking about unnecessary matters― if you simply look only at me, and leave your body to me – you will be fine.”

[Yakov]: “―So, do not resist me?” Taking my hand, he drops a kiss along my fingertips. His eyes gazed provocatively up at me, and my heart skipped a beat. [Yakov]: “Your face is red, you know.” [Kara]: “Th-That’s, Prince Yakov’s…” [Yakov]: “With that attitude, it shall be all right.” 

The piece began to play, and Prince Yakov pulls my waist towards him before slowly stepping in time to the rhythm.  In contrast to his high-handed words and demeanor, he leads me gently. (Amazing… even though I honestly believed that I couldn’t dance…) Just by entrusting myself to him, I’ve somehow transformed into the visage of a dancer. (Something about this is really fun…) Having fun at this party for the very first time tonight, a smile begins to naturally bloom on my face, and I nearly tread on Prince Yakov’s foot. However, the Prince elegantly evades my step before knitting his brows, muttering in a low voice.

[Yakov]: “…You truly cannot dance whatsoever.” [Kara]: “D-Didn’t I tell you that before?” [Yakov]: “But, you have the feel for it.” [Yakov]: “After tonight, be sure to practice your dancing.” [Yakov]: “―As there will be more parties akin to this one from this point forward.” (“From this point forward”…?)

At the prince’s words, I…

➢ “I must refuse.” ➢ “Understood.” ❆

 ➢ “I must refuse.” [Kara]: “I must refuse.” [Kara]: “The level of anxiety I just experienced was already too much to handle.” [Yakov]: “While dancing with me, the look on your face seemed to be as if you were enjoying yourself– so I am not so convinced.” (Ugh... I definitely was having fun dancing with him, thinking about it...) [Yakov]: “Besides- it has also been a long time for me too, enjoying myself while dancing.” ➼

 ➢ “Understood.” [Kara]: “…Understood. In-between design work, I’ll be sure to practice.” [Kara]: “Dancing is unexpectedly pretty fun.” We conversed quietly as we danced, and it somehow became even more enjoyable like that. The Prince smiles, and pulls me closer with a single sweep. [Yakov]: “Glad to hear that.” [Yakov]: “If you continued sulking about,  there would be no point in you taking the time to dress up beautifully.” ➼

➼ (Huh…?) I was surprised by his unexpected words when the piece concluded. With the end of the dance, a large applause was bestowed to the Prince. (I didn’t mishear what he just said, right...?) As I feel my cheeks heating up, the Prince leaves the dance floor. At that same moment, as if on cue – all of the princes of the other nations come and approach me.

[Roberto]: “Your dancing was soo cute!” [Keith]: “Well, for a commoner it was pretty good, huh?” [Keith]: “But if you took a better look, you could see that Prince Yakov taking the lead salvaged the entire thing.” [Edward]: “Not only the dancing - but the dress is quite stunning too.” [Edward]: “It was just as if a snow fairy came to descend from the clouds.” [Kara]: “Th…Thank you.” The Princes of the Six Kingdoms line side-by-side around me, and the atmosphere becomes especially cheerful. (Everyone– for you to treat me, someone who is just barely associated with you all, so kindly and warmly... I’m happy.) Cherishing this joy of getting to meet with the Princes again, Prince Wilfred then raises his voice.

[Wilfred]: “Now, I only heard this... But apparently, you officially became the exclusive designer for Sanct Sybil Castle.” [Glenn]: “Even though you’re still a rookie, to be suddenly put in a position like that of an exclusive designer– You’re amazing, you know.” [Wilfred]: “I think there will be things that you won’t be familiar with, but I’ll be cheering you on. Do your best.” [Kara]: “…Okay!” (There’s someone out there who’s supporting me like this...)

➤ i love.... wilfred...... this is why wil used to be numba won. his POWER so strong they had to create claude to ruin his love life. to weaken that perfection!!

 (Let’s do our best while doing things you can manage, bit by bit, in this country.) The Princes spoke to me warmly, and I strengthen my resolve once more. Prince Roberto then strikes up a conversation with Prince Yakov. [Roberto]: “By the way, I heard that Sanct Sybil will be joining the Alliance, hmm?” [Roberto]: “The Alliance hasn’t had any later additions until now, so I’m really looking forward to it.” [Yakov]: “…Mhm. I think the day Sanct Sybil will be on par with your fellow countries is soon approaching.” With Prince Yakov’s statement, the other Princes show their excitement. [Keith]: “If that happens, we’ll definitely have to celebrate, yeah?” [Roberto]: “We’re suuuper happy that we’re gaining new companions.” [Yakov]: “I am grateful for such words, but the first step is going through the discussion regarding the deliberation.” Prince Yakov’s face hardens. Seeing this, Prince Glenn then brings up something he seemed to have remembered. [Glenn]: “Speaking of which, being a member of the Alliance has all sorts of conditions to meet, right?”

[Joshua]: “That’s right.” [Joshua]: “The terms - like the stability of the economy and of public safety - are fully detailed in the treaty.”

➤ i was this close to just not giving joshua his screencap time bc this boi.... bloody useless this episode- we still stan u riceball king.... but still

[Wilfred]: “First, the most important requisite is that the country must be stable; if a major incident or form of discord comes up, it seems that one will lose their qualification to join.” [Wilfred]: “Well, there hasn’t been a case like that so far, but.” [Joshua]: “I would think that things along the lines of an ‘incident’, and prominent matters that arise, just do not happen, alas.” (Joining the Alliance is a difficult thing, huh...) I think for that reason alone, Prince Yakov thus has no choice but to act in accordance with the country’s policies. I think about that, when I hear Prince Roberto pipe up in a bright tone. [Roberto]: “Well, regardless~ I was really surprised by the cold of Sanct Sybil, but…” [Roberto]: “I was also surprised by how lively the town by this castle was.” [Joshua]: “He’s right. You can feel the passion of the country from it.” [Glenn]: “I think it might be because it hasn’t been that much time since the country unified, but it has an ambiance to it that the other six countries don’t have.” [Keith]: “The people working in this castle too only consist of those who’ve made a name for themselves. It’s to the point where I want that sorta thing for my place.”   [Edward]: “I’m looking forward to the day Sanct Sybil joins us.” [Yakov]: “…Mhm.” Prince Yakov nods, and the other Princes encourage him with their smiles. Then, Prince Roberto, looking out the window, cries loudly. 

[Roberto]: “Snow…! Everyone, look! There’s snow falling.” (Huh…?) Spurred on by Prince Roberto I shift my eyes to look out the window, and within the darkness, I see snowflakes fluttering about in their descent. [Wilfred]: “I think it only makes sense that it would get this cold. It seems Sanct Sybil has the earliest winter season out of all the other countries.” [Roberto]: “It’ll pile up ‘til tomorrow, right? If so, I wanna have a snowball fight~!” [Glenn]: “I’m not a child, so…”

  While the Princes get noisy in their lively chatter – Coming over to my side, Prince Yakov smiles with a light huff. [Yakov]: “As one would expect, it will not accumulate up until tomorrow, but over the next few days, it will all become a snowy landscape.” [Kara]: “How pretty…” [Yakov]: “I am used to such a sight, so I do not feel particularly moved by it in any way.” [Yakov]: “As you live in this country, soon you too will get used to seeing it.” [Kara]: “Is that right… I think I’ll definitely get used to it, soon enough.” (When I had listened to Prince Yakov’s speech, I felt that I was listening to the words regarding a faraway country, but...) Listening to the princes’ conversations and words of encouragement, I now truly feel that I am indeed here to be the designer of Sanct Sybil. Smiling at Prince Yakov,  I get to enjoy the first snow with the Princes for this brief moment―

To be continued...

(Letter)

From: Yakov Title: Go Practice

While dancing, I was astonished when it seemed very likely that my feet were going to be trampled on– but you appear to have some sort of potential. Dancing with you was not bad, no. Additionally... your dress was also not too bad. As the designer of Sybil Castle... you have passed.

―Yakov

Next Episode...

“But, why are you in a place like this?”

....how does yuri bother to dye those brows red every time. dedication to the craft i suppose

lol sorry about this one. i feel that ep 3 is even shoddier than what i usually put out, but when i finished ep 2 i already had a good chunk of ep 3 done so i wanted to get it over with bc this ep is mostly bad/awkward vibes ehehe

i think the next chunk will maybe be just ep 4 + special story 1. i want to include each ver of the special story (so 3 versions) so........ might take a good minute to do but idk we’ll see tbh i wanted to put ep 4 in this chunk so special story 1 could be by itself but i figured some of u would prefer to have more frequent updates. it’s been over a week since the last one so i felt like that was a bit long of a wait after just episode 1

Again, thanks for reading!

#bmpYCS1 #bmp #be my princess #yakov chernenkov

[blackandblueandstars]

Goodnight Little Firefly

A/N: This is the fourth of my follower appreciation posts for @idkbutkamilah. Hope you like it!!

Adrian had asked Amy to attend the event with him. He said he needed her to be his eyes and ears, but since they'd arrived it was clear he just wanted a pretty piece of arm candy to impress potential clients.

She would've been offended, but she was getting paid and the drinks were limitless and free.

She sat in the corner, waiting for Adrian to beckon for her again. But in the meantime, she sipped her drink and watched New York's richest interact with each other. It felt so foreign to her, to be amongst this social class. She'd had to rent a dress that Adrian insisted on paying for. It looked lovely, but it was decidedly not her.

She felt very out of her depth here, but the warm, familiar burning of her scotch put her at ease.

"Hello," a voice came from behind her. She glanced back to see Kamilah Sayeed, the CEO of Ahmanet Financial, and one of Adrian's closest friends.

"Ms. Sayeed," she said with a courteous smile.

"Please," said Kamilah. "Call me Kamilah."

"Very well," said Amy. "Kamilah. Why aren't you out there schmoozing?"

Kamilah's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, surprised at Amy's brazenness.

"Well," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't much care for socializing. And anyone that wishes to partner with me seeks me out, so I don't really see the point."

"Then why come?" asked Amy, leaning forward. "I mean, surely you have better things to do."

Kamilah quirked her head to the side. "Yes," she said slowly. "Well, Adrian is a friend, and he organized the event."

"Ahh," said Amy. "So you're here out of obligation."

Kamilah rose an eyebrow. "I prefer loyalty, but to each their own, I suppose," she replied.

"Fair enough," said Amy shrugging. She took another sip of her scotch.

Kamilah smiled slightly. "You're very forthright tonight," she observed. "It's refreshing."

Amy looked at her drink. "Maybe you're just paying more attention tonight," she replied.

That caught Kamilah off guard. It was true, she hadn't paid much attention to Adrian's newest pet. But Amy almost seemed disappointed that Kamilah hadn't given her more attention.

"Mm," said Kamilah. "I don't think you want the kind of attention I have to offer."

Amy looked up at her then, an entire galaxy swirling in her eyes. "And what if I do?" she asked.

Kamilah felt an unfamiliar stirring in her stomach, Amy's eyes drawing her in. What was it about this girl?

She took a sip of her drink, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Amy stared at her, pinning her in place, desperate for an answer.

"You're really drunk right now," Kamilah said. "I don't think you're going to remember any of this."

"No, I'm not drunk," Amy retorted. "You're just blurry."

Kamilah laughed, light and breezy. God-damn was that a beautiful laugh. Amy had never seen her so much as crack a smile, so she felt pretty accomplished making her laugh. Kamilah was right, she'd definitely had too much to drink, but she memorized every note of that laugh.

"Maybe we should get you home?" asked Kamilah.

Amy smirked at her. "Nice," she said. "Smooth."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Kamilah.

"Oh, I know what you're doing," said Amy. "You play the concerned, responsible guest and Adrian lets you leave early to see to me. Not bad, Sayeed."

Kamilah blushed, another first for Amy. It looked like the sun was setting across her face, taking Amy's breath away.

"That's not what I was thinking," she said, but it was clear that Amy had caught her.

"Well," said Amy. "I'm okay with being your escape plan on one condition."

"Oh?" asked Kamilah, intrigued.

"You come home with me," Amy said with a smile.

"Absolutely not," Kamilah replied. "I don't go home with anyone."

"Oh?" asked Amy, a devious sparkle in her eye. "Is that your way of asking me to come home with you?"

Kamilah balked at her suggestion.

"That doesn't seem very professional, now does it?" she replied.

Amy smiled. "Well," she said, "I don't know about you, but I've had enough 'professional' for one night." She motioned around the room.

This woman was quick-witted, thought Kamilah. She might have underestimated her.

"You're drunk," she said softly. "I won't take advantage of you."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "Kamilah Sayeed," she said slowly. She loved the way her name felt on her tongue. "Are you suggesting that you would take advantage of me when sober?"

Kamilah's eyes widened. "I--no, of course not," she fumbled, shaking her head.

Amy smiled. "Well that's a damn shame," she sighed. "You're the kind of woman a girl wants to take advantage of her."

Kamilah was utterly awestruck with this force of a woman before her. She went blow for blow with her, cunning and bold and powerful. She'd never met anyone like her, and Kamilah had thought she'd met every kind of person.

"I've had a nice evening with you, Ms. Sayeed," said Amy. "But I think it's my time. I'll get an Uber, so you can stay and enjoy the party."

Amy smiled at her, eyes sparkling.

"It is really unfair that there are two of you," said Amy. "You're too pretty for that."

"Alright," said Kamilah, standing. "I'm taking you home." She helped Amy stand, trying to hide the smile on her face.

"You know," said Amy as Kamilah walked her to the car. "You're not as mean as everyone says."

Kamilah chuckled. "I am," she said. "You just make me want to be nice."

Kamilah buckled Amy into the front seat, driving her to her apartment with Lily.

"I like you," said Amy. "When you're nice. Hell, I even like you when you're mean."

"Oh?" asked Kamilah, smiling at the girl's drunken haze.

"Sometimes I like you even more," she said giggling.

"Well," said Kamilah, parking the car. "I think I like you too."

Amy's bloodshot eyes met hers, wide with surprise.

"You do?" she gasped.

Kamilah helped her up the stairs.

"I thought you hated me," said Amy.

Kamilah stopped her outside the door to her apartment. She looked into her eyes, her stomach fluttering, heart racing, blood boiling.

"I don't think I could ever hate you," she said, pulling Amy in for a deep, passionate kiss.

Amy reciprocated, pulling Kamilah to her desperately, their bodies hot against each other. Kamilah's tongue slid gently into Amy's mouth, and Amy sucked on it slowly. Amy pulled her lip into her mouth, nibbling, before finally pulling away, gasping for breath.

"Wow," she said, chest heaving.

Kamilah smiled, just as Lily opened the door.

"Ames! You look trashed--oh! Who is this?"

Kamilah smiled at Lily. "I just wanted to see that Amy got home safe," she said. "I'll be leaving."

"Goodnight, Ms. Sayeed," Amy said flirtatiously.

"Goodnight, little firefly."

Final word count: 1134

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