ah well you know what they say about men with large feet

Say that again; H.S.

“So how did your date turn out the other night?” Harry appears into my side view, still buttoning up his crisp, ironed-by-me chemise as he walks to stop beside me. I turn on my heel, bumping my hip into the marble countertop as I let a humourless chuckle flow past my lips.

“Disastrous. Catastrophic. I-never-ran-so-fast-in-my-life-short.” I laugh loudly, handing Harry the utensils for his dinner in a few hours. I pull on his shirt near his shoulder to straighten it before I lightly push at Harry’s chest to get him up and going – there wasn’t much time left.

“Couldn’t be that bad,” Harry starts off but pauses ever-so-subtle, “or can it?” he disappears from my view – hopefully to his large dinner table in his living room – elevating his voice so we could continue our conversation.

“Believe me. It really can be. Not that you ever experienced a hell like that.” Again, a chuckle passes my lips while I shake my head. A friend of Harry’s had set me up on this date and the male in question wasn’t that horrible, but our mind sets were so different I don’t think that could have ever worked out. I cut the date short after a comment that resembled ‘all women belong in the kitchen’ and sent the lad on his way.

“As if girls throwing them at my feet is something that’s so thrilling. Can’t even have a proper conversation like that. They only have one thing on their mind.” Harry appears back into my view to grab a few napkins on the edge of the table, already turning on his heel again.

“Not to start anything – but uh – you sound like a woman. All men are the same kinda shit? But reversed.” I stop my motions as an amused grin crawls onto my features, dropping the dessert spoons back on the marble and discarding them all together.

“I’m offended. You’re implying that I whine. I don’t whine, I complain that I can’t get laid.” Harry’s voice is still humorous as he ducks beside me to grab the dessert spoons off of the table, bumping his hip with mine to get me out of the way. “I still need glasses.”

“Harry come on, if you wanted loose sex, you’d have it in an instant.” I ignore his comment about the glasses but turn for the cabinet either way. Harry wasn’t someone you could just approach like you’d do while out clubbing, but that didn’t mean the boy couldn’t get lucky from time to time.

“I couldn’t even fix myself a proper date? Let alone find myself a one night stand. They don’t see me like that.” Harry mopes somewhere on the premises of his loft, but nowhere in my line of sight. I visibly roll my eyes – although he obviously can’t see that – all the while a scoff leaves my lips.

“Ah come on, Styles. You’re fuckable. Don’t complain.” I discard his nonsense almost directly. Sometimes I wonder if Harry realized how attractive he even was. He could come off as strong and confident but he was just as insecure as the rest of us – maybe even more than the rest of us.

“What did you just say?” Harry’s voice lowered, his movements stilling as his whole body turned in my direction. “I – never mind.” I mumble, feeling a blush creep onto my features from Harry’s intense stare. The confidence I had once possessed around had completely drained because of his whole aura, the demanding stare accompanied by that lopsided smirk of his.

“Say it again,” Harry demanded quietly, already making his way back up to me, a smile beginning to grow on his lips.

“You’re – well. Desirable. You damn well know that H.” I groan, not quite sure why he suddenly desired a confirmation of his good looks – let alone from me. I’m not sure how long it takes for any sound to pass between us. Harry had always been someone for a dramatic pause now and then.

“I didn’t know you thought about me that way, Y/n.” Harry’s smirk continues to grow as he discards the cutlery completely, slowly trailing towards his open kitchen, where I’m still gathering other utensils needed for Harry’s family dinner.

“I didn’t say I did. I was stating a well-known fact.” I awkwardly throw back at him, trying to maintain a grin of my own as I feel the ground underneath my feet heating rapidly.

“You sure?” He toys with me, his eyes twinkling underneath the dim lighting of his kitchen. He twirls around me, collecting the glasses I had gotten out of the cabinet one by one.

“Yeah…” I trail off, wondering to myself if I was indeed sure of my words. I keep my gaze trained on the expensive crystal instead of my best mate fluttering around me as if this wasn’t a conversation we weren’t supposed to have.

“Too bad.” I still in my movements, one of my hands curled around the stem of a wine glass as I balance my whole weight on my tippy toes. I try to speed-rake my mind about what intentions could have been behind those two simple, plain words, but come up rather empty-handed. Well, I was never someone who could rapidly come up with solutions anyway.

“Too – what? Why?” I come out of my trance, landing back onto my feet as I turn around, glass dangling in my hand which Harry happily plucks from between my fingers.

“I’d – I wouldn’t mind.” He winks and within a split second my cheeks are a fire-blazing red and my eyes are as wide as they can possibly get without popping.  

I’m taking one step forward, towards Harry, but refrain from moving any further. I’m not sure if I’m reading his words as I’m supposed to, and I’m not ready to give into my urges if they are misplaced. Harry is a bit more confident than I am and closes the gap between us in just a matter of a few split seconds.

I’m pressed against the counter, my hands covering over Harry’s biceps as his own hands cup my face, keeping me in place. A little noise – what it was supposed to sound as, even I am not completely certain – leaves my lips and causes Harry to push himself even impossibly closer.

His hands wander, his lips staying locked with mine as my own mind seems to click. My hands rest on his firm biceps first, a few moments later letting them flow over his exposed arm towards his toned chest. I’m letting my fingers ghost up on his chest towards his neck when Harry’s hands cup my bum firmly, drawing a moan from my already parted lips.

“How much time do we still have?” Harry breathes against the skin of my neck. He technically forces me to open my eyes, which are immediately cast towards the clock on the far kitchen wall. “If we’re lucky, about forty-five minutes.”

“That’s all I need.” Harry chuckles as his arms snake around my body, hoisting me up into his arms. I just hope we’re not getting an unexpected visit.

Serial Killer Dadvid

“You want me to cut out your tongue? I said shut up.” David brought the knife to his throat in a silent warning. The man gulped, but shut his mouth obediently.

“Good boy.” David praised, bringing his other free, gloved hand to stroke the man’s cheek. The man shuddered, bile rising in his throat.

“Now, I know this might sound silly!” David laughed at a joke that was not unknown to the man.

“I heard, you stole from some good friends of mine! Silly, right?”

The man vigorously shook his head, “Nah, man, that ain’t true.”

David turned his head in a curious manner, his smile never leaving.

“Oh really? Than this must be a mistake. You’re clearly not a 6′1 male, white, age 30 to 32, with a small scar through his eyebrow, along with a tattoo of the name Martha on his neck.”

“And you clearly weren’t caught on camera carrying several large weapons that I know for a fact belonged to The Vagabond and the rest of Fake AH Crew!” David came closer to the man, who began to pull at the straps of leather that bound him too the chair.

David’s eyes narrowed, his large grin growing more and more sinister.

“Now, I’ll ask nicely only one time. Where are the weapons?” His playful tone had dropped, but the smile stayed.

The man whimpered, “I don’t know what your talking about, please!” David sighed, twirling the knife in his hand.

“You know, Geoff never said I had to get the whereabouts of the weapons. I could just kill you now, but he is such a dear friend of mine, and he’d be so grateful if you told us, it would definitely lighten the load.” David brought the knife to the man’s throat, applying the smallest amount of pressure to draw blood.

“Okay! Okay! It’s at…” The man stared past David and at the cement wall behind him, knowing what would happen to his crew if he said another word. David pressed harder and the man yelped.

“They’re at an abandoned airport outside of Los Santos.” David nodded, retracting the knife.

“That’s a very good boy! Now, one more question. What are you doing in Sleepy Peak?” David asked, voice filled with real curiosity.

“It’s, uh, It’s where Martha and the kids live. She moved from Los Santos.” He replied honestly, hoping that his answer would make the man feel some pity for him

David nodded absentmindedly, examining the blade closely, before bringing it high above his head.

“Okay! Thank you for your cooperation! Now let’s finish thi-”

The room was suddenly filled with the tune of “Oh Clementine,” and David looked as thoroughly confused as the man before him. David coughed awkwardly, his face growing slightly pink

David fished around the pocket of his apron, giving the man a patient smile.

He pulled out his phone and held up his finger, mouthing a quick apology.

He pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey Maxy! How was school?” David resumed his usual demeanor, shocking his victim with the sudden sweet tone.

“Really? Well, I hope Nikki didn’t drink anything else after that. Uncle Geoff should be coming to pick you up!” David made vague noises of affirmation as the rather loud voice on the phone asked several questions, then casted his eyes to his victim.

“Stole from Ryan’s warehouse if you can believe it.” The man began to shake under David’s eyes, David began to twirl his knife once more, his lips pulling into a wicked grin, but his tough demeanor melted once more in a snap of a finger.

“I love you too, Max! I’ll see you soon, bye-bye!” David made a loud smooching sound before pressing a button on his phone.

“Sorry, my boy was confused on why I wasn’t picking him up! Now where were we?” David drew close once more, the man screamed and pulled at the leather straps, but his fate was already sealed.

“Oh yeah, says who?”

Says me! Ryan would totally sweep the floor with Michael. Michael is fuckin’ good with close range combat, but Ryan outweighs him easy.”

Geoff considered this and nodded, “Okay, Okay, what about Jeremy and Gav?” Geoff opened the front door for him, allowing the ten year old to step past him.

Max scoffed, “They’d fucking knock each other out on accident and then they’d fight over who fell first! What about Jack and Ryan?”

Geoff laughed and patted his head, “Lets hope that never happens. They might turn on me mid fight and take me out.”

Max nodded in agreement and made his way to the kitchen, surprised to see David standing at the table bringing out plates for a pizza that laid on top of the counter.

“You took care of it?” Max asked, and David nodded happily, bending down to press a quick kiss to Max’s head. Max rolled his eyes at the touch and shrugged it off, but gave David an honest half hug in return.

“Yep! It’s being cleaned up by the Team Nice Dynamite Cleaning Crew.” David gave Max a sly wink, and Max smiled back while Geoff laughed. As if on cue the rest of the crew began to pile into the cabin, chatting and laughing as Gavin complained about the blood staining his new shirt.

“Hungry, Maxy?” David asked, drawing Max’s eyes away from the incoming swarm of people. Max nodded eagerly, approaching the counter before the other men could take the rest of the slices.

Before Max could grab a plate, he was quickly swept off his feet by a tall man sporting a leather skull mask, and Max smiled wide.

“Uncle Ryan!”

“What about Uncle Jeremy, huh?” The shorter male huffed, crossing his arms as he looked up at the boy who had his arms around Ryan’s neck in a tight hug.

“Do you ever come around to visit by yourself? Besides, I have no respect for those the size of a ten year old.” Max puffed out his chest a little as the others laughed.

Ryan carried Max to the living room and away from the others who were squabbling over a singular bread stick, as David made his son and himself a plate.

“You been good?” Ryan asked, removing his mask to reveal his painted face.

Max shrugged, “As good as a boy whose family is literal murderers can be.”

The Runaways - The Funny Twist of Fate (1/3)

As many of you might have guessed, I did not especially like the episode in Helwater. I certainly hated when Jamie and Geneva were together. You all know this and you know why. I won’t get into a debate about it here. What I will do, however, is write an alternate story! Because what else does a good fanfic writer do, but fix the things the authors mess up? So! This is my idea for what should have happened. It’s a canon departure and a few things had to change so that this story would work.

  • Jamie is quite a bit younger than he was in canon, early to mid 20′s, as is Claire. 
  • Lamb is Claire’s father, elder half brother to Lord Dunsany.
  • Lamb is a widower who travels all over the world with his daughter at his side, coming back to Helwater for Christmas.
  • Jamie is known around Helwater as Mac.

@outlandishchridhe was a massive help in getting this idea hammered out and down on (digital) paper. I kid you not, it’s 50 pages on our Google doc. @diversemediums helped polish it up and make it a strong, compelling story that I’m, quite frankly, in love with. So, buckle up! It’s a bit of a read.


Jamie carried the sack of grain into the barn, pausing when he heard wheels coming up the road. After setting the sack down, Jamie walked to the far corner of the barn where he could catch sight of the road. Sure enough, a small coach headed for the estate. Odd. It wasn’t a rig Jamie recognized.

Moving quickly, Jamie rushed to meet the coach, coming to a stop just before it did. The driver climbed down and opened the door, helping a tall, slender man out. Jamie recognized him as Lord Dunsany’s elder half brother Quentin Lambert Beauchamp.

Something about his arrival felt off, though. Any time he’d come to visit, he’d ridden his own horse, not hired a coach. Assuming the presence of a second passenger, Jamie rushed to the door and offered his hand.

A graceful, slender hand came out of the shadows to grip his. Holding himself up to his full height, he helped the young woman out of the coach. She appeared to be near to his own age, though he couldn’t be sure. The only thing he knew for certain was that she was beautiful.

Keep reading

Time To Teach You A Lesson (M) - Pt 1

Genre: smut~

Length: 2,200+ words 

Kink(s): slight degradation and exhibitionism, cuckolding 

Originally posted by wonhontology

Being an idol, well a trainee, was by no means easy. You were constantly training, and rarely spoke to anyone, except for family of course. 

Well, that is until you met Kihyun, you always had been a fan of his group Monsta X, and honestly never expected to meet him though you had a contract with the same company. 

Meeting him at first was incredibly awkward. Though you managed to be polite, calm, and collected the entire time; you still found yourself struggling to contain your inner fan girl. 
But as time went on, the two of you grew incredibly close- sometimes you felt closer to him than you did with your own family. 

The two of you would always go on little dates to cute hole in the wall cafes, or hidden little wooded areas he’d found when he was a trainee. Sometimes if you two were lucky, you’d be able to sneak out passed curfew and go star gazing. 
Needless to say, you always had the time of you life when you were with him.

One year later..

Kihyun hadn’t been paying to much attention to you as of recently, and though the two of you were just friends, for tons of reasons of course- it still bothered you.
It really sucked, if you were being honest, you were incredibly used to his attention and just going from getting it all the time to suddenly not was weird for you. But you knew it was because of his busy schedule, and you understood of course.
After all, you were practically going through the same thing, though you were still a trainee. 

Keep reading

The Right Way

When John opens his eyes, everything is white and silent.

His first feeling is shock.
Shock over this surreal environment. The sand, the heat, the tanks and the death have disappeared. No screams and no helicopter sounds can be heard. Instead, quiet, friendly voices around him. Birds singing somewhere. Well, outside. Outside where the sun shines. Where there is a daily life. Around him is the smell of disinfectants and mild detergent.

John blinks at the bright light in the room. He realizes he’s in a bed. No narrow, hard cot. It is a large, soft bed. A thick pillow under his head. A blanket pulled up to his chin. It’s warm.

He also notes that he can hardly move. It’s like a heavy weight is pushing him down.
John grunts, and wiggles tentatively with his toes under the blanket. This works very well. But as he tries to lift his head, an unpleasant, throbbing pain passes through his shoulder. At the same time, it occurres to him that he has been shot.
Shot. In Afghanistan.

John lets his head sink back into the pillow and breathes in the cool air in the room.
I was shot …
Pictures before his eyes make him swallow.
Running soldiers, screams, shots, an explosion. A hand on his arm, a whisper, a groan as eyes close forever …
And then the sharp pain as the bullet pierces him. Pain, so much pain, he falls into the sand and he can hear his name. Someones shouting his name …
A moment later it’s all gone.

John knows he’s been taken to a hospital. For the initial treatment. And then. Home.

Home, meaning this hospital.

He sighs, and licks his dry lips. Thirst.
His gaze falls to the side of the wall, where a call button is.
He presses it.
A few minutes later, a young nurse comes into the room. She smiles the certain standard smile, which is so common in a hospital.
“Ah, Dr. Watson, you are awake. Very good. The doctor will want to see your wound soon. Do you need something?”
“Water,” John can only croak with difficulty. And he points his finger vaguely at the bed. “Could you … raise it please?”
“Yes, of course.” The nurse pushes a button on the bed and it slowly lifts. “I’ll bring you water.”
Then she is gone again.

John can see the room better now. And when he looks aside, he sees that he is not alone.
Next to him is another bed. And there is a man in it.
The face half hidden by an oxygen mask.
John can see thick, dark locks. And pale, almost white skin. He judges the man to be in his mid-thirties. He stares at the completely motionless body and swallows. Something is drawing him to this unknown man … something he can not explain. John notes that he is fascinated. Fascinated without really having a reason for it. He shakes his head slightly.

The nurse comes back with a mug and a water bottle.
She pours him water into the mug and John takes it with a still unsteady hand. He drinks, relieved.
Then he says softly, “Who is that?”
The nurse follows his gaze and says with a sad undertone, “Oh, this is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. He’s been here for a long time. Almost half a year. He’s in a coma.”
“Ah,” John says, swallowing. Half a year. That’s a long time. “How …?”
“How it happened? He overdosed on cocain. We … well, we can’t ask him, but we think it was a suicide attempt.” She gently shakes her head and takes the empty mug from John. “It’s really a shame. He never gets any visitors. Never. The thought that no one in the world is there for him … Who knows if he will ever wake up again. Perhaps there is simply nothing worth it for … Oye, I talk too much.” She seems a little embarrassed and clears her throat. “If you need anything, just call, ok? The doctor should be here any minute.”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The nurse leaves. John does not look away from the sleeping man in the other bed.

Half a year. No visit.
Jesus.

*
The days pass at a quiet, slow pace, which both soothes and disturbs John.
He is not used to it.
He almost expects to be suddenly torn from the calm routine by a shrill siren. Or suddenly lie back in the hot, bloody sand of the desert.
But of course it doesn’t happen.
Instead, he wakes up around 9 in the morning, receives his breakfast and is examined. The doctor is friendly and passive. Nodding pleased at the sight of John’s wound, while John himself stares at the hole in his shoulder with a growing nausea.
After that, he can only watch TV, or watch Sherlock being fed.
It’s hard to watch.
No reaction comes from the comatose man, when the nurses lift his limbs off the bed to wash him. Turn him to his side. Dress him again.
The motionless body doesn’t resist. It reminds John of a doll. He does not like this thought.
At noon, they bring John food again.
For Sherlock, of course, nothing comes. He is fed artificially.
In the evening, more food. And more TV.
A lot of rest. A little too much, John thinks once, and feels strangely guilty at the thought.
On the third day of this routine, he talks to Sherlock for the first time.
It’s because a James Bond movie is on.
John always liked James Bond.
And that’s what he says.
“This is a good movie. A really good movie. Lots of action. And the women are pretty, the men too,” he says aloud in the room. And laughs. There’s no answer. And he feels a little stupid.

*

After a while, John realizes that he will not get any visitors either.
It’s not really that surprising.
Harry is … well, he doesn’t even know where his sister lives. His mother is dead. And he does not want to see his father. Not that he thinks, his father would want to see him …
Once, he receives a call from the leader of his unit. From Afghanistan. He says something like, “it’s a shame” and “get back on your feet soon”. John doesn’t say much. He only murmurs “Yes, sir” now and then.
His hand is trembling as he holds the phone. A tremor. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up.
He doesn’t get any visitors. Just like Sherlock.
Only the nurses and the doctor enter the room.
“Here we are, huh?” John says to Sherlock while eating his bland soup. “We’re alone together here.”

And then the nightmares start. About the war. About death and pain. About men he could not save. Distorted faces in the dark. Eyes full of despair.
He wakes up in the middle of the night. Heavily breathing. Bathed in sweat.
He moans and sits up with difficulty. Runs a hand over his face.
He looks at Sherlock. Sherlock, who is, as always, motionless in bed. A part of his face lit from the machine that measures his heartbeat.
John swallows. He must … He feels the overwhelming desire to talk to someone. It needs to stop. He can not … Oh, hell, he has no one and it’s not like Sherlock would complain, right?
He clears his throat and begins.

“Well, uh, Sherlock. How do you feel? Um, I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry, haha, bad joke … I had a nightmare, which is quite obviously, right? Well, uhm, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I just talk a little. Yes. I’ll talk. So make yourself comfortable. Haha.
Sometimes I think I’ve gone the wrong way. I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. And the army … Well, it was just a whim. An idea that me and my friends had. One of them is dead, by the way. Mmh. I … it was not always bad. The training was exhausting though. Sometimes I thought I could not make it. My family was not much help either. My father is an asshole. There is no other word. My sister was thrown out. My mother died. It was all … a mess, you know? Anyway, I’ve been struggling. I wanted to do it. This one thing. And I did it. I’ve become a doctor. I went to Afghanistan and treated soldiers. I’ve seen things that would turn your stomach. Wounds that seemed like death sentences. I’ve looked into hopeless, desperate eyes. Sometimes I saved them. Sometimes I couldn’t.
And the faces of those I could not save, they haunt me now, you know? In my dreams. God. I’m so sorry. I really am … Do you see that? I’m crying. That hasn’t happened for a long time. It seems to make you sentimental when you get a bullet in your shoulder … " 

*

"Thank you for listening to me all the time, Sherlock. All this blabbering must be terrible. I thought about James today. Who that is? Well, good question. We were more than friends. But never more than … no idea. I kissed him. Well. In the desert, watching the sunset. Once. Just once. Do you think that is romantic? Shit, yes. Mabye it is. ”

*
“My middle name is Hamish. I hate it. I mean, who calls their child John Hamish? My father chose my name. There we have it again. This bastard. Hamish. I always avoid telling people that name. So, I guess that makes us mates? Hey, buddy, haha. No. That just sounds wrong. Sorry.”
*
"I can get up today. Great, huh? I feel like an old man. My damn shoulder, my trembling hand … a pretty sad picture I make, huh? ”

“It was not so bad. I mean, I for some reason I’m limping, quite badly, but the fresh air was great. I was down in the park. And imagine, a woman spoke to me. She’s called Mary. She said she’s working here. She is nice. And you know what, I asked her if we could go for a coffee. She said yes. Can I get a ‘well done’? No? All right. ”
*
“Do you know, that you’re pretty? Really, you are. I maybe would have asked you out, if I met you somewhere else before. Oh God, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I … Maybe I’m just afraid. Because … well. I’ll have to leave here soon, I guess. And I don’t know what to do then …”
*
“Well, that’s it. I … tomorrow I can go. I don’t know exactly where, but I can go. Mmh. I think I’m really scared. Mary said I should do therapy. No idea if that would help. I guess, I can try it. Maybe. Well, I’ll pack my things. You know … you really could wake up to say good-bye to me. It would be nice …”
*
“Surprise! Yes, here I am again. I … I missed you, Sherlock. You’re a good listener, you know? Better than my therapist … So, what happened since I left, tell me, haha.”
*
“I will marry Mary. That’s … yes, that’s good, right? She is … she gives me a certain hold in life. I would not know where else to go. What else could I do? So. We are getting married.”
*
“Oh God. Fuck Hey, Sherlock. I … She’s pregnant. She … she’s really pregnant. Did you hear that? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a father. I. Can you belive that? No, me neither. I … Oh my God, what am I doing?”
*
“This is not what I wanted, do you hear me Sherlock? That … my God, I can not do that. That’s … That’s not me. Fuck. ”
*
“I love her … Really, I do. I mean, I married her. But … I just do not know what I’m doing. I’m … This is not me. I don’t want a quiet family life in a terraced area. I want … I don’t even really know what I want … But, I hate all of this. I … I thought I was going the right way this time, but that … that’s not what I want. I’m not a family man, Sherlock. ”
*
“You know, Sherlock, you can just wake up once. So … so we could really talk. Because, well … You listen to me here as I talk every day. Aren’t you bored. Jesus. I know it would be a miracle if you woke up. I have … I’ve heard the nurses talking. They’ve given up on you. It would be a miracle. But … I don’t know, maybe you can just make the miracle happen for me? Simply … Oh God, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Good bye, Sherlock. Until tomorrow.”
*
6 weeks later.

“Hello, Dr. Watson. I’m sorry to call you so late, but he … he’s asking for you.”

“Who? Who is asking for me?”

“Sherlock Holmes. The coma patient you have been visiting. He woke up and now he’s asking for you. Very urgently.”

John hurried to the hospital. He doesn’t even notice that he left his cane at home. Until Sherlock points it out. Sherlock, sitting upright in bed, an exhausted, oblique smile on his face.
Sherlock, who says quietly, “Hello, John.”
Sherlock, who steals John’s heart within a second and opens the door to a whole new, completely different story. Who shows John a new way. Which is finally

           the right one. 



This was inspired by this beautiful post of @johnnlocked: AU in which Sherlock is in a coma and John is in the same room.

Corrected by my wonderful beta @bakerstreet-irregular <3

Tags are under the cut. As always, if I forgot you or you want to be tagged in future works, tell me :)

Keep reading

I'm still the captain

(A/N): bearded Steve has got me fucked up

Request: Can I request a story please where Steve is sick of being Cap and doesn’t want to come back to the Avengers until he comes to the base to talk to Tony and he sees the reader who is a new recruit. The reader is training with a total asshole at that point who just keeps shooting something (idk fire or stuff) at her and she starts arguing with him, walks out and runs into Steve? And Steve falls in love and joins again? (Steve please with beard and maybe a dog or something) You’re so awesome!

Warnings: some swearing


Originally posted by b-n-a-o

   "You sure you don’t wanna come back?“ Tony asks as he walks beside Steve and his rather large golden retriever named Buddy of all things. 

    "I’m tired of being cap,” Steve sighs as he looks at the floor, at the floor he once used to walk on daily. “I’ve been doing it for years and I guess I’ve just lost-" 

   "Lost faith in captain america?” Tony supplies the rest of his sentence. Steve nods, sighing again. 

   "Captain stood for justice, peace, freedom, I don’t know what he is now but it’s not that,“ 

   "You piece of shit!” A sudden voice cuts Steve’s conversation short. buddy’s ears perk up and he whines at the sound, his head already pointing to the direction of the training rooms.

    “New recruits,” Tony supplies with a smirk. “It hasn’t been going to well," 

   "Yeah,” Steve edges forward, taking a few steps towards the training rooms. “I can tell,”

    “I’m done trying to train you! Reschedule with Tony or Nat or someone else you little asshat-” The voice cuts shorts when whoever it belonged to ran straight into Steve’s chest, grumbling and trying to push away. “Watch where you’re going-” The person looks up, face immediately going slack as they look up at Steve. “Oh my god, you’re- you’re Steve Rogers,” Steve chuckles lightly, nodding his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

    “Indeed I am," 

   "I’m so sorry for running into you, I didn’t mean to-" 

   "Mr. Stark, I suggest you hire someone new because (Y/N) does a fucking terrible job,” A young trainee, only around the age of 19, comes walking out of the training rooms, looking rather rude and arrogant. (Y/N)- Steve assumed- gritted their teeth in restraint as they rolled their eyes, turning on the spot to face Tony. 

   "Tony, this little asswipe wouldn’t listen to me, he kept using those stupid fucking powers and-“ 

   "hey, hey, hey, both of you need to calm down, okay?” Tony looked between the two with a rather serious gaze. “Jason, Go hit the showers, (Y/N) go eat a carrot or some shit, I don’t care,”

    “But Mr. Stark-”

    “Now you two.” Tony rubs at his temples as the two walk away, glaring at each other darkly as they do. “I swear those two are going to be the death of me,”

    “When did you hire (Y/N)?" 

   "A week after you left,”

    “What do they specialize in?" 

   "A little bit of everything truthfully, they have quite the impressive resume,”

   "Hmm, any previous employers?“ 

   "They were an assassin for hire, they were their own employer,”

   "So, what’s their story? Villain suddenly becomes a hero? They accidentally lost a loved one in their line of work?“ 

  "They gave up the whole assassin thing after one customer wanted (Y/N) to take out a family, a pregnant woman, her husband, and their two other children," 

   "So, they have morals at least ," 

  "They do,” Tony smiles, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “You’d love them if you got to know them a bit, gives you the perfect reason to rejoin the team-" 

  "Steve’s rejoining the team?” Natasha smirks as she suddenly walks up to the two men. “Nice beard Steve, makes you look all rugged and stuff," 

    "He does live on a farm now Nat, he has to look rugged,” Nat hums as she nods, her eyes flitting from Steve’s bear down towards his feet where Buddy sat patiently, tail swishing from side to side gently.

    “And who’s this cutie?” Nat asks as she crouches down, scratching Buddy’s ears affectionately.

    “This is buddy, I found him snooping around my yard one day and I decodes to take him in," 

   "Well sounds like Captain America has been having fun up on his ranch,"  

   "Yeah,” Steve nods, smiling gently as he does.  "I have…I miss the compound though,“ 

   "Ah, did I just hear Captain America say he misses the compound,” Tony smiles excitedly, unable to hide just how elated he was.

   "I’m not saying I’ll come back, I’m just saying I’ll think about it,“ 

   "He’ll think about it!” Tony cried as he hugged Steve tightly. “He said he’ll think about it!”  


  “Remember how you said you’d think about it?” (Y/N) chuckles around a mouthful of ice cream, the chocolatey substance dribbling down their chin. “And cut to a year later you’re the team leader once again," 

   "Oh hush,” Steve muttered as he poked (Y/N) with his foot, too tired to even lift his arms. He’d been training all day with (Y/N) and needless to say they had kicked his ass, they were fucking amazing at fighting and Tony wasn’t exaggerating when he said (Y/N)’s resume was quite extensive. 

   "Tell me again why you came back,“ 

   ”(Y/N), I’ve told you a million times before-“ 

   "I know, but I love hearing why,” Steve sighs as he cracks an eye open to look at (Y/N) who was trying to look cute and innocent as they pulled the chocolate coated spoon out of their mouth.

    “I came back because I had a crush on you, I wanted to see you more," 

   "Yeah?” (Y/N) smirks as they recline onto Steve’s chest, his arms already coming up to wrap around their form. 

   "Yep…and because of that decision I found the love of my life-“ 

   "Oh, you’re such a sap,” Steve smiled as he pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling back.

   "You know you wanted to hear it, don’t even deny it,“ (Y/N) hums as they nuzzle into Steve’s neck, sighing softly once they found they were perfectly comfortable.

   "I suppose you’re right…” The two fell silent for awhile after that, just laying together, holding each other, listening to the other’s breathing, their heartbeat, the way (Y/N)’s breaths became shallow whenever Steve gently kissed them, or the way Steve would nearly purr when (Y/N) raked their hands through his hair. The moment was peaceful, reflective, absolutely wonderful, that was until there was a loud bark and suddenly there was a large, rain soaked dog standing on both of their bodies. 

   "Buddy!“ Steve chastised, trying to push to large dog away from himself and (Y/N). "Personal space big guy,” But Buddy didn’t listen, instead he merely plopped down on their legs, head resting on Steve’s chest. (Y/N) chuckled as they reached down to pet Buddy, a light smile to their lips as they did.

    “He just wanted to cuddle too,” Steve groans and shakes his head as he lays back down, arms rewrapping around (Y/N). 

   "He’s fucking soaked (Y/N), your legs are going to be freezing when he gets off and then you’re gonna do that evil thing where you wrap your legs around me and try to freeze me to death,“

   "Hmm, damn right I am,”

   "I didn’t become team captain to have fucking freezing legs,“ 

Jealousy

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1950ish

Warnings: jealousy, sexism, self-doubt, sexual innuendos, light cursing

Summary: On a mission, you get too jealous when Steve starts flirting with another lady. When Natasha confronts you about it, you don’t realize that Steve is right behind you.

A/N: you know how I said this would be out Monday? Ha HAHA ah

Originally posted by yalica

The ballroom was extravagant to say the least. The room had a high ceiling, chandeliers made out of crystals that even one was probably worth more than your entire apartment complex. And then there was the floor length dress you were wearing. The dress’s open back and plunging neckline added with it’s shade of black that contradicted with the bright colors other women were in were sure to draw your target’s eyes. Which is exactly what you needed.

Keep reading

Liberty Pt.2

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe

Characters:  Bucky Barnes, Natalia Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Baron Zemo (mentiones briefly)

Warnings for this fic: Angst, eventual smut in future chapters (slow burn), running away, profanity, violence (futue chapters).

Word count for this chapter: 1113

gif isn’t mine!

Captain James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was a peculiar man, how he sailed the seas for most of his 27 years. He was born at sea, he would most likely die at sea. All pirates, including those in the farthest corners of the maps, had heard of the infamous Captain. You? You were the governor’s daughter, secretly hoping to be taken out to seas and to be set free.

~

“Please- Sir I’ll do anything, please just let me come with you.” You hoped he wouldn’t turn out too bad if he let you stay, but if he didn’t…

“Well, miss Y/L/N, welcome aboard the St. Brooklyn…”

~

Tell me, sweetheart… Why would a rich and beautiful girl like you, run away from a place like Port Royal, hm?” Bucky asked, you and him both were sitting in the Captain’s cabin, it was cosy, full of gold and silver alike, lavish furniture- this man was definitely not like most of the other pirates that your father had told you about; poor, dirty, unhygienic.  

You studied him for a moment, “I, er, I have been stuck in Port Royal since I was a babe, I haven’t gone further than 2 nautical miles outside the border, Sir, I have a thirst for freedom and to put it quite frankly, your boat called to me.” You fiddled with your fingers as you awaited his reply.

First of all, it is not a boat, my dear, secondly… there are plenty other ‘boats’ in that harbour-

Don’t ask me why I didn’t board the others- I would be… easily recognised. Everyone in Port Royal knows who I am, my friend Peter will be the only one to- wait… What did you do to the letter?

Bucky huffed. “What do you think I did with the blasted letter? I’m a wanted man. I’m not becoming wanted for kidnapping-

I’m 19- almost 20, well over a year over the legal I’m-allowed-to-make-my-own-decisions age, Sir, I assure you it won’t be kidnapping if I am the one who boarded your ship on my own will.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look then rolled his eyes.

As someone who had come across many a stupid person, he didn’t think you would be the type to run away- you had a perfect life- of course, he wasn’t in your boots, but you seemed intelligent, healthy, surrounded by protection and you most likely lived in a luxury mansion. What could possibly be wrong with your life?

Alas, he didn’t know a thing.

The need to be away from your home was clawing at your chest and it was annoying you to the point where you had tried to escape multiple times, only to be caught by your handmaiden- you had kept making up excuses to cover yourself.

Your father paid little to no attention to you once you had turned 18, he had arranged a marriage for you with Commodore Zemo, a man of fortune and wealth, he was 15 years your senior, though that was normal for any arranged marriage. The man was a weird one, to say the least.

If you’re going to stay on my ship, you’re going to have to know the way of the seas. You can’t just sit around and do nothing, as you would probably do back at Port Royal, you are the Governor’s daughter, after all.” There is a knock at the door, Bucky shouts a 'yes?’ and a handsome man with ebony hair and dark skin enters.

Y/N, this is my first mate, Sam Wilson, Sam… this is the stowaway I had to find.” You looked between both of them and shook Sam’s hand, he adorned a smile so sweet, but he had a firm grip to say the least.

Sam smiled and said a quiet hello. “Captain, we’re heading into rough waters, orders?

Hoist the sails, gain speed, it can’t be too bad,” Bucky smiled. “If anything gets a little rusty, we have Wanda.

Aye Cap.” Sam exited the cabin, as the door shut you could hear him yelling orders, and the scurrying of feet died down.

What is a ‘Wanda’, Sir?

Ha ha, Wanda is a witch we have onboard, a good friend of mine actually, ah, don’t look like that! She helps us keep the ship from capsizing when we head into the rough water.” Bucky grinned, he enjoyed seeing such a beautiful girl squirm hearing the word ‘witch’.

You had never been one to believe in magic, your father told you stories when he came back from his voyages to Tortuga, Brazil, Egypt, he would go for so long. You had skimmed the room once more to find a large globe in the corner.

May I?” you questioned, timidly. Bucky nodded in response, he furrowed his brow as your fingers danced along the curvature of the three-dimensional atlas, you had only come into contact with one of these in your 19 years, a much smaller one in your father’s office.

Tell me, Y/N, how educated are you on the modern charts?” You whipped your head around to see the cocky man leaning back in his chair, you could feel him eyeing you up and down as if he could read your body language. “I don’t have a Sea Artist, he pissed off a siren on the coast of Portugal, fell for their trap, he was a good man, though he never learned how to cut back on the humour when something serious was going on. Any chance you could help me out and be what I need most, and maybe more?

Sir, as a woman growing up with a Governor as a father, I have studied the maps since I was able to read and write. I know how to navigate throughout the entire world but-” You were cut off quickly when Bucky gave you a confused glare.

He intimidated you, only slightly, his tall manner and dark looks were different than the men you had encountered before. If you had to compare between you both, you would be the lamb and he the lion. His jaw was sharp and defined, as if carved by the sharpest of swords. His hair fell in bronze and brunette tresses across his forehead and you could swear you could see red in his cheeks, most likely sun stained from being at seas for so many years. It contrasted against his olive skin.

In all your mature years you had been exposed to drunken, ugly miscreants, he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon, and you felt an alien sensation fluttering in your lower part of your stomach as he lifted from his chair, in that moment you had yet to be exposed to the ways of the world, you knew what intercourse was, you had been shown plenty of scientific diagrams, though you had no idea what this pleasant feeling was.

~

As Bucky’s legs carried him closer to the damsel in his cabin, he could smell a change in the air; it was you, you see Bucky was not just any normal human being; he could feel and know what anyone else was feeling, a good trait to have as a pirate. He could feel the blush spread from your bust to the tips of your ears, he could feel your heart fluttering behind your ribs as he neared you. As he spoke his breath gently whisped across your forehead.

Yet.. an innocent soul like you has never traveled the seas? Oh, darling, you will be of great use to me, I will show you the world beyond this one, just you wait.

~


A/N. So! Part 2, I hope everyone likes it, and enjoys reading it. Like i said this fic is gonna be a slow burn on both ends. Bucky is intrigued by Y/N, he knows she is an innocent soul looking for new things so HES GONNA GIVE EM TO HER AYEEEE 


I had some help from the LOOOOOOOOVERLY  @papi-chulo-bucky thank you!!

- Chloe x

tag list:

@i-cannot-escape-this-fandom @imma-fcking–nerd @imamoose @sammirain @dannycristhy

Songbird

Ch.1 Mystic Messenger Mafia AU

ch2║║ch3║║ch4║║ch5║║ch6

Word Count: 1,609

[VIOLENCE/MURDER]


      It was what you had come to know as a typical night. The city was wet from the earlier rains, causing a moonlit highlight on the bricks and asphalt. It also kicked up an unpleasant stench, but one you had grown familiar with in all of your years of living here.

     “Alright, kiddies. Time to work,” a burly man clapped his gloved hands together before throwing open the back door of the truck.

     Barrels and barrels full of bootleg lined the inside. Thousands of dollars of product for the family to profit from, brought over on a meat truck they used frequently to disguise their hauls. But from where? The shipping yard, you guessed. Now if you could just figure out when it docked…

     “What are you thinking about?” the boy next to you asked.

     You hadn’t realized he’d been watching you. He scratched his hair underneath his cap before straightening it with a smile. Yoosung, or ‘Lucky’ as he was known, was always smiling. He seemed to practically skip instead of walk. Not the typical mafioso wannabe. But neither were you. In any case, he’s the closest thing you had to a friend right now. And you needed that.

     “That it’s cold as shit and I wanna get this over with,” you huffed.

     Lucky and some of the other boys popped up into the truck. They all shifted the barrels in their spots as if to weigh the contents before proceeding to move them. They had to roll a few of them down before you could start to dolly the liquor inside the small storage warehouse.

     “Attaboy,” the driver said gruffly and condescendingly. His wide hand pat one of them on the back as they wheeled a barrel away.

     “Turn the lights off, you nitwit,” the beautiful brunette, your capo-Jaehee, seethed as her heels clicked around the side of the truck and stopped in front of the driver.

     “S-Sorry, right,” he nodded before scrambling to the front to turn the headlights dim.

     “This is the last job for tonight, so make it snappy,” she played with her gloved hands, seemingly annoyed, “well go on!” she urged you.

     You picked up the pace and wheeled the barrel Yoosung placed on the dolly for you. A single one wasn’t too heavy, but do 5 or 6 in a row and boy were you feeling it. Towards the end of the truck you felt beads of sweat on the back of your neck.

     “What’s her deal tonight?” one of the boys whispered as you all worked to shift the hooch inside the storage room.

     You glanced back to see Jaehee and the driver. It looked like she was scolding him, all while gesturing to the truck.

     “Probably in a rush to get to the club to see ‘Pretty Boy’ sing his little heart out so she can drop her panties,” one of the guys joked and pretended to sing into a mic dramatically.

     “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” another one smacked him in the back of the head, “if I have to listen to any more of your stupid jokes tonight I’m gunna stuff ya in one of these damn barrels.”

     “Alright, alright, lay off,” he rubbed his head with a sour face, “I was only tryin'a lighten the mood.”

     A flash of headlights washed over you before being turned off. You all stopped to watch a black car pull up by the truck. You and Yoosung both paused, gripping your dollies and watching as a man in a brown trench coat stepped out and straightened his collar. Bits of red hair peeked from his hat and a serious expression plagued his face.

     “Shit, what’s he doing here?” one of the guys whistled menacingly.

     Though you had only seen him a handful of times, you knew who it was. Saeyoung, the Underboss. Or as people liked to call him-‘The Mad Hatter.’ You believed him responsible for countless hits over the years. And now you all stood to watch, though some of the outfit stayed back in the warehouse, exchanging quiet glances and pretending to work.

     “It’s a wonderful night, isn’t it?” Saeyoung and his two body guards met Jaehee and the driver.

     “It’s a bit too cold if you ask me,” Jaehee replied.

     “Ah, but it’s a clear night,” he looked up to the sky, “star, after star, after star. An endless void. If you look long and hard enough you can get lost in it. How many do you think there are?”

     He returned his gaze to the two of them, his solemn face unchanging. Neither of them spoke.

     “I asked you a question,” he turned to the large man, “how many do you think there are?”

     “Stars? I-uh…” you could almost see the man begin to sweat.

     “You can count, can’t you?”

     “Well ya, but I-I don’t know-“

     “Of course you don’t. There are too many up there. Maybe a simpler question, then? Since you can count and all..how many barrels am I missing from this truck?” he gestured to the meat truck.

     “Missing?” his big belly heaved with his now labored breathing.

      Saeyoung’s fist swung into the mans gut and sent him coughing to his knees.

     “Now, now. You’re good with numbers, remember? I’ll give you a second to count them in your head before telling me. And you’d better tell me. Or things are only going to get worse for you.”

     The man started to sob at Saeyoung’s feet, “I don’t know nothin’ about missing barrels I swear on my kids life,” he pleaded.

     “I don’t like liars,” Saeyoung grabbed the mans hand and pulled the glove off, “shall we count together? Maybe that will help.”

     He singled out the mans pointer finger, while the driver looked up to Saeyoung’s face in terror. His wet eyes were pleading.

     “One…” Saeyoung bent the finger back in a swift motion. The snap of bone was like a dry twig breaking under your boot.

     The cry in pain filled the empty street and the body guards stuffed the man’s mouth with a cloth before holding him in place on his knees. He struggled for a moment but quickly admitted defeat.

     “Two,” another snap of his middle finger, “three…”

     Even with the cloth to muffle, you could hear the pain bellowing from his chest. Tears streamed down his stubble-heavy face and his brow pinched together in agony. It took everything in you not to stop him. The cold metal of the gun on your thigh had never been more apparent.

     “Four,” the pinky was the last one and it broke easily, “four barrels. Now do you remember?”

     He let the mans hand fall before stepping back. The cloth was pulled from his mouth before shoving him forward into the damp asphalt. Shaking and nodding at Saeyoung’s feet, his right hand was a mangled mess now.

     “Good, I thought so. Now you won’t forget that number,” he tossed the glove at the mans face, “get out of my sight.”

     With his good hand he palmed the glove and clambered to his feet all while stifling sobs. Wobbling slightly and almost running into Jaehee in the process he started to walk fast in the opposite direction down the silent street.

     “Hm…I changed my mind,” Saeyoung reached into his coat and pulled a pistol to aim at the man.

     The truck blocked your view but the sound of the shot and the thud that followed were telling enough. Your legs were suddenly jello and a pair of hands held you up.

     “Keep it together,” Yoosung whispered as he grabbed you. You were just noticing his eyes had glassed over slightly and there was an indent where he must have bitten his lip.

     All you could think about were flashes of Saeyoung’s face as he held a gun to your head. ‘Lemme show you what we do to rats and pigs,’ he’d say, his sadistic grin being the last thing you see before he squeezed on it.

     “Someone clean that up,” Saeyoung gestured to the body before turning to one of the men, “you, get this truck out of here.”

     He handed a wad of cash to Jaehee, explaining that she was to deliver it to the man’s wife. It was to help her get by, at least for a little while, without a husband.

     He took long striding steps back to the car. His gloved hand opened the door and he turned to you with a smile before getting in.

     “Hey, Lucky! Both’a you, be in the wind before the bull arrives, huh?” he waved and got into the back seat.

     The bit of food in your stomach was trying to make it’s way up but you took some sharp breaths to calm your nerves as the car drove away. No wonder there wasn’t a soul at the station willing to try and infiltrate this syndicate. They all either laughed at you or turned a cold shoulder when you brought it up. Not even the feds were willing to acknowledge this level of organized crime was going on. Businesses and citizens alike accepted that this was just the way things were. And here you were, a cop gone under cover. A rat. A bull. The regret was like a thick syrup that clung to you. This was the first time you realized you were probably going to die. But there was no turning back now.

     “Come on, there’s still a bit of work to do…” Yoosung pat you on the back with a solemn face. It was the first time you’d seen him not smiling.

Disposable pt2

Idk I was just thinking about this last night and thought I might write another part? But I’ll warn you now, if you like sad endings, stop reading after part one. I’m terrible at angst because I’m a sucker for happy endings. (Also @ anon who originally requested part 1, I’m sorry that this is about to turn into something not at all like what you asked for, forgive me)

You can read part 1, 3, 4 

Yoongi x Reader

Fake relationship

Warnings: Harsh language, mild nsfw, alcohol usage.


Yoongi waited two weeks for you to call. And he was sure that you would, because you always did. This had been a relatively normal thing for you for over a year now. Everything would seem like it was fine until one day you said you couldn’t do this anymore, then you would effectively dump him (although in order to dump him you would have had to have been in a relationship in the first place), and then a few days later you would call him again.

It was just the way it was. 

There was something different about this time, however. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, or even think about it at the time, but there was something in your eyes that night. Yoongi recognized hopelessness when he saw it.

He rubbed his eyes, reminding himself that he didn’t care. So what if you never called him? It wasn’t like he couldn’t find someone else. Though, it could be hard to find someone who didn’t ask questions. That was something he liked about you, you never asked questions about his personal life. You weren’t interested in his money, or his status. At first, you wanted the same thing that he did– a way to forget who you were for a while. 

No more stress, no more phone calls from angry bosses, no more parents who wanted to know why you weren’t married yet. It worked so well because the two of you were each others escape. 

For a few months, both of you kept feelings out of it. You were fuck buddies, no big deal. But at some point, something had shifted. He could still remember the first time he noticed it, when he had almost made the mistake of asking you to stay. He nearly didn’t catch himself in time, choking on his words and backtracking so fast that you had actually asked him if he was okay. 

He glared at his phone, waiting for something that he knew wasn’t going to happen.

Keep reading

Soothing

Hey everyone. This is my first story so please be gentle with me. I hope you like it. Also, I’m writing this on mobile so I’ll try to fix it later.
Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader
Requested: No
Warnings: Some mention of blood (not much)

You weren’t ready. You just absolutely weren’t ready. For what, one might ask? Newt Scamander, your long time friend and crush, to let out a short yipe like a dog whose tail had been closed in a door. Snapping your head towards the sound, you watched as Newt stumbled out of the swedish short-snout enclosure with a bloody arm. That, in and of itself, was fairly jarring, but the fact that it was five thirty in the morning made it worse. Forgetting about the potion you were brewing, you rushed over to him. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you searched him for more wounds. 

“Oh my god, are you alright? What happened?” You asked as you brought him back to the shed and set to work on putting him back together.You examined his arm carefully. The gash was fairly deep and bleeding pretty good, but there wasn’t anything sticking out, like a broken bone (it’s happened before), and he was reacting to things normally. Overall, you determined that it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Still, you were worried. 

“I’m fine, but, ah, (Y/N)?” He said. You look up at him with concerned (E/C) eyes.  

“Yes?” He rubbed his neck sheepishly as you cast a healing spell on it. 

“I’m afraid that Everett isn’t very fond of men and, I really do hate to ask this of you because I know you don’t feel as comfortable with larger creatures such as him, but,” He started.

“You want me to see if I can calm him down,” You said. It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement. He nodded, unsaid apologies swimming in his blue-green eyes. You smiled, sure you weren’t as comfortable with bigger beasts as you could be, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t handle yourself. 

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do,” You said with a soft smile. In all reality, you were only brave enough do it because it was Newt who asked you. 

The swedish short-snout stood tensely in his habitat, looking mildly afraid when you walked towards him. He picked his head up as you approached him. You could feel Newt’s eyes on your back the whole time, as if they were telling you to be careful.They were the only things keeping you from turning around and leaving at the moment. You smiled at Everett, stopping a few feet from him, as to keep out of his immediate territory. You weren’t exactly a dragon expert, you were an expert more on smaller creatures, but you figured that this was a pretty safe distance. Everett came towards you, planting himself directly in front of you, silvery blue skin shimmering in the soft light.

“So sorry to bother you this early, Everett,” You said, calmly. “I just wanted to talk to you, if that would be okay.” 

“You’re doing very well, (Y/N),” Newt called encouragingly from the edge of the habitat. You took a deep breath, keeping focused on the task at hand. Everett glanced at him warily before looking back at you. Newt was right, he really seemed uncomfortable with men.   

“I’m just here to tell you that Newt wants to help you. I know that you’ve had a rocky relationship with men in the past, but he won’t hurt you. I promise. Everett, he wants to help you and take you home,” You muttered. The dragon was zeroed in on you with his undivided attention. You shifted a little and Everett took a more defensive stance. You held your hands up in a nonthreatening manner and he backed down a little. 

“Relax, honey. I know it’s weird being here and I know it’s hard to trust us, but I swear that we want to help you. All I’m going to ask is that you give us a chance,” You said. You could feel Newt creeping closer to you as Everett calmed. 

“For not being an expert on large creatures, you are very talented when dealing with them,” Newt said, not looking at you. Your eyes bounced from the freckled magizoologist to the dragon, not sure what was going to happen. Everett made a low threatening sound and Newt backed up. 

“Hey, hey, Everett, it’s okay. Trust us, trust him, he’s going to help you get home. In the meantime, he’ll take good care of you,” You soothed. The dragon still looked unconvinced and beautifully dangerous. Another low noise and Newt put himself in front of you, acting as your shield. You pushed his arms down and went closer to the sacred creature. Newt tried to grab you, but missed. Taking a deep breath, you turned to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Come back here, (Y/N). I don’t want you to get hurt,” He said, looking like a worried mother. You faltered slightly at his concern for you before brushing it off as friendly.

“Theoretically, the more defensive we act, the more defensive he’ll act. It’s okay, Newt,” You said, turning back to Everett. The silvery creature looked down at you, eyes filled with fear and distrust. You put on your softest, most motherly smile and ventured a little closer. You kept a little distance so he didn’t feel cornered, but stayed just close enough for him to hear you if you spoke quietly.  

“I was like you once,” You whispered, “Scared and alone, really far away from home. Newt found me to, he rescued me and fixed me up. I know it’s hard to trust someone after going through some really awful things, but believe me, Newt will take care of you.” Everette looked at you with large, thoughtful eyes, his defensive position becoming more lax.

Finally, the silvery beast relaxed and strode towards you. You held out your hand to him. The two of you met in the middle as he rested his large head against your small hand. You beckoned Newt over and he approached cautiously. Everett took his head from your hand, watching him. 

“Mummy’s here, Everett. Mummy will take good care of you,” Newt said. You suppressed a giggle tugging at your vocal cords as he said this. It was so hard to take him seriously when he called himself ‘Mummy’ (but oh so adorable). The creature cast a look at you and you gave him an encouraging nod. Eventually, he leaned into Newt’s outstretched hand, nuzzling him as a sign of trust. Newt beamed, looking quickly between you and the beast. You smiled, bowing slightly as if you were in a play. 

Newt’s smile could outshine all the stars at night. God, his smile is what drew you to him in the first place and he kept you there with his love of animals so much like your own. Watching him slowly gain the trust of a dragon that had been so blatantly mistreated made your chest warm in ways you still hadn’t become accustomed to. As the two of you made your way from the enclosure after Newt finished what he had started earlier, he turned to you with that grin. 

“You were absolutely brilliant, (Y/N)!” You waved your hand, dismissing the comment; though you still blushed like a schoolgirl.

“Oh, it was nothing really. I’m glad I could help,” You tittered. His smile remained as he took you by your waist, hugging you tightly. It wasn’t forceful, but it was firm. Dimly, you mind told you that this was one of the rare times where Newt touched you. 

“Really, you were magnificent! And you say you aren’t any good with larger creatures,” He laughed. Your blushed deepened slightly. 

“Ah, well, I try.” Newt suddenly seemed to become aware of the fact that he had been holding you and pulled back. 

“T-terribly sorry, (Y/N). I j-just got a tad excited,” He said, blushing under his freckled dusted cheeks. Smiling shyly, you ran a hand through your hair.
“Don’t worry about it. I actually enjoy your hugs, like, a lot,” You said, embarrassed by your own confession.  

“Ah, did you know that a group of Bowtruckles is called a branch,” He spit out. Blinking, you tipped your head to the side. He was nervous or uncomfortable, maybe both. You immediately regretted saying anything. Newt’s face got redder, your own following suit as the silence stretched out between you. 

“Actually, I… I did know that. Please forget I said anything while I go throw myself into the sun,” You said, awkwardly. Turning slowly, you began to hurry away from the tall wizard. A choking noise behind you stopped you and you glanced back at him. 

“You don’t have to do that on my account,” He said, quickly. “That… that may not have come out right. W-what I mean to say is, um, well…” 

Another thing you’d become accustomed to was reading his mind when he couldn’t seem to get words out. Tentatively, you made your way back over until you stood just in front of him. He avoided your eyes just as you avoided his. How is it that we can both be this bloody awkward, you thought. He had begun to fiddle with his fingers and you finally looked up at him. Lord were you thankful you did. 

Newt’s curly, cinnamon colored hair fell over his forehead just so, making his blue- green eyes stand out. His eyes, though they slid away from your own, were so soft. They reminded you of the mermaid lagoon from the story Peter Pan, the way they drew you in, hypnotized you. The freckles dusting his quickly reddening skin created constellations that the sky only wished it could achieve. Every line and curve of his face added to his overall expression of complete and utter embarrassment. Something in you was thankful that he was generally so transparent when you could see everything he was thinking. 

“You mean, you’re okay with me wanting to hug you more?” You muttered. He nodded, swallowing thickly. 

“Yes,” He replied, “Among other things.” At this, both of you went redder than you thought you were capable of getting. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud. 

“Alright, you know what? Things are already awkward, so let’s just make it worse.” You took a deep breath, locking your eyes on his. “I really like you, Newt.” 

“Nifflers are capable of producing six to eight young in a litter,” Newt said, loudly; the tips of his ears flushing red. You smiled, awkwardly. 

“I knew that to,” You said, brushing you hair away from your face. He cleared his throat in an attempt to steady himself. 

“Sorry, I’m afraid I’m not very skilled when it comes to talking about these things. Allow me to try again; I care for you very much, (Y/N),” He said, giving you one of his famous sheepish smiles. You smiled shyly and took his larger hand in yours. 

“You did just fine, Newt.” You hugged him this time, pitching yourself into his arms a burrowing into his chest. He hugged you back; you could feel him smile against your hair. 

“If I knew it would only take a Swedish short-snout to get to this point, I think I would have found one much sooner,” He chuckled. You looked up at him with a content smile on your lips. 

“Ditto,” You giggled, “And, Newt?” 

“Yes, love?”

“If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll have to hurt you,” You joked.  

“Noted,” He replied, hugging you to his chest once more.

Livin The Dream

Summary: A slow day at work turns interesting when an unexpected customer needs some help, and the two of you hit it off right away.

Pairing: Soldier!Benny x Reader

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: Language, flirting, fluff, mention of deployment, minor altercation with a drunk man

A/N: My new baby is here: Soldier Benny! This fic is a companion to @deanssweetheart23‘s fic Cross My Heart - you don’t have to read it to understand this story but I’d highly recommend it because it’s beautiful. Thank you twin for asking me to write it, and for helping me struggle through, well, everything. This part’s a bit on the short side, but the rest (five parts total) will be longer! Let me know what you guys think of my first ever Benny AU! 

(Images are not mine, found on pinterest)

Keep reading

3

anon requested : I was wondering if maybe you could do some cute belle/esmeralda stuff? 

Looking into the mirror, Belle took a deep breath before adopting a stern gaze. “This is it. You are going to march out there and tell her how you feel!” With a sharp nod of her head, she straightened her dress and marched out, staunchly ignoring the slight tremble in her hands. She had watched the woman (Esmeralda, a voice whispered to her) dance for a couple weeks and each day had been working up the courage to introduce herself.  

Music reached her ears as she approached the square and she sighed as she tracked Esmeralda’s movements, allowing herself to imagine for a moment, that she was up there dancing too, smiling and laughing as they moved around each other. 

Belle was so caught up in her daydream that she almost failed to notice the Romani take off at a run, with shouting guard chasing after her. At first, she was unsure if she should follow them - after all, what could a tinker’s daughter do in the face of the law? But as she watched the guards gain on the dancer, Belle took a quick breath before falling to the ground with a piercing scream. 

The two men came to a sudden stop, trying to place where the cry had come from and as they turned back to see Belle splayed out on the ground, Esmeralda took advantage of their distraction and dashed into the nearest building. Having kept one eye on the woman she was trying to save, Belle gave a sigh of relief and stopped her relentless cry just as the guards approached her. 

Adopting her most innocent gaze, she thanked the guards for their worry but the spider that had crossed her path had already fled. As their expressions slowly changed from incredulity to anger, Belle did her best to assure them that, yes - it was a very large spider and that no - she wasn’t off her rocker. Beaming at them as they walked away muttering, what she was sure were insults about her intelligence, she continued her simpering routine until they turned the corner and could no longer see her mad dash to the library. 

Pushing the half-door open with her usual care, she gave a M. Robert a quiet smile before walking up behind the dark haired woman who, for all intents and purposes, looked extremely invested in the book she held. Belle paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before she reached out and tapped the woman ( Esmeralda, her mind reminded her again ) on the shoulder. 

Well, anyone would have thought Belle had poked her with a hot iron the way the Romani whirled around, a fierce look on her face. Esmeralda relaxed a little when she realised that it wasn’t the two guards who’d come up behind her, but the screaming girl from the square. The surprisingly pretty girl, a small part of her added unhelpfully. “Are you alright?”she asked gently. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” For surely pain could have been the only cause of such a piercing noise. 

A small blush rose to the bookworm’s cheeks as she tried to think of an excuse. Somehow, ‘I’ve seen you dancing in the square for the past week and you’re beautiful and I think I’m in love even though this is the first time we’ve ever spoke’ didn’t sound quite right. In the end, Belle simply shook her head and used the same excuse she’d told the guards. “There was an extremely large spider. I don’t like spiders…or guards who chase innocent people.” 

Understanding flashed across Esmeralda’s face and a small grin spread across her face. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” She closed her book with a loud snap and glanced out the window. The guards would surely have moved on to tormenting other citizens, allowing her to make her way back to her corner.  “Thank you. Not everyone is so quick to help someone like me. I promise your kindness will not be forgotten.” Moving past the brunette, Esmeralda was already trying to remember where she’d dropped her tambourine when she felt her momentum stopped by a gentle hand on her elbow. 

It was now or never. Belle swears, even up to this day, that her hand had moved without any instruction on her part - her own subconscious seeming to rebel against the fear her mind held. “Ah, I was - that is - I was hoping…” This wasn’t like the outspoken bookworm at all, she was a woman who always seemed to be able to say what was in her heart, so why was it so hard for her to even string together two sentences? 

Esmeralda, for her part, remained where she was, a patient look upon her face. While she was a bit confused by the other woman’s scattered words, Esmeralda was sure eventually they would become clearer once she overcame whatever obstacle was in her way. Besides, the brunette was especially cute when she was so flustered - Esmeralda got the feeling she didn’t fall apart like this very often.

“Will you - that is, would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight? My father is at a fair for the week and I was wondering if you enjoyed roast hen?” 

Suddenly the woman’s nervousness made sense to Esmeralda and suddenly her amusement turned to uncertainty. For a moment she faltered, eyes widened momentarily with shock until her brain gave her a sharp kick and she realised she was being ridiculous. This woman had just saved a mornings worth of earnings and that alone put Esmeralda in her debt - besides, she was intrigued by the brunette and her quiet courage. “In fact I do - as long as I don’t cook it. I’m afraid kitchens and I don’t seem to get along.” 

Belle was stunned for just a moment - had she actually just said yes? And before she could gather herself and project a relaxed front, words burst forth from her mouth with all the excitement of a young child around the holidays. “Really? I mean - great! You should come over just before sunset - my house is the one just over that hill there.” 

Bemused, Esmeralda watched the brunette start down the street at a brisk pace once her directions were uttered. It crossed her mind that she didn’t even know the other woman’s name. As if she’d heard her thoughts, the brunette woman - now several feet away - waved a hand and called out a brief and rather unorthodoxt introduction

“Oh! My name is Belle by the way.” 

A gentle smile spread across ruby lips.

“Esmeralda.”

Let Me Be Your Light ~Phan~

Oneshot. A blind fan meets Dan and Phil and asks them to describe each other, and confessions are made.
Rating: T- quite a few swears oops sorry
Warnings: Mild self-hate. Brief mention of cancer

You are the loveliest people omg xxx reviews are the food of love and I am peckish, so please tell me what you thought!

Keep reading

Prince For Hire

Alfred would do anything to make his daughter happy, and by the looks of the cute prince there might be something in it for him as well. Usuk. //

Alfred always tried his best to be a good single father. Perhaps this was because of the opposition he faced, the court dates he had to go through, and the awful letters he’d received from his ex-wife’s family. He’d gotten most of the time with his daughter Amelia, against the odds. He had her all week, and she only spent weekends with her mother.

Still, he always felt like he was being judged on his parenting capabilities, so when Amelia requested to have Disney characters attend her birthday party, Alfred was quick to say yes. He’d themed her whole party around the arrival of the princess and prince, from choosing the color of the streamers to the flavor of the cake. The balloons had princesses on them too, and messages like ‘Happy Seventh Birthday!’ The event was held in the backyard, and Alfred had set up party games and played Disney songs from a CD player.

Amelia had lots of friends, she was an energetic and friendly little girl, so it was easy for her. The backyard was crowded with roughly twenty kids, boys and girls alike. There was a huge stack of presents next to the cake, the most colorful one being from Alfred himself.

At promptly two-thirty, The 'carriage’ pulled into the driveway. What it truly was was a large van with princesses painted on the sides, and a phone number underneath. The doors opened, and two people stepped out. One was a woman with styled, golden hair, and a shimmery pink dress that faded to blue on the bottom. She had a small, simple crown on her head and elegant makeup.

Amelia had looked on the website, and chosen Princess Aurora and Prince Philip duo. Speaking of which, 'Philip’ stepped out of the driver’s side, adjusting his red cap. He was short, and slender, with dyed brown hair curled a bit messily. He had quite a bit of makeup on himself, to resemble the character. His eyes weren’t the accurate brown, though, they were vivid and green, which in Alfred’s opinion was an improvement on the character’s design.

Alfred approached the two, shaking their hands and introducing himself. “Hey, right on time!” He smiled, and 'Philip’ nodded.

“We are always on time, sir, wouldn’t want to disappoint the birthday girl. Amelia, was it?” He answered.

Alfred nodded. “Yeah, yeah, Amelia- hey, your accent’s pretty good!” The prince for hire had a strong English accent, and although Alfred couldn’t remember whether Philip spoke like that or not, it was a nice touch. The Prince gave a half-amused snort but didn’t say anything more. He and the princess adjusted their makeup in the back of the van, then went into the backyard, smiling and waving happily.

The children were quick to flock to them, all chattering excitedly. Most of the attention was on the princess, which was to be expected. 'Philip’ kept his friendly demeanor, helping himself to a small paper cup of fruit punch, leaning back against the house.

Alfred watched him from a distance, stomach in knots. Costume or not, the prince for hire was cute, at least, he was cute in his makeup. Alfred was sure he was good looking with or without it, though, and after gathering a bit of confidence, he walked over.

“Hey there!” He greeted, the prince nodded his head in reply.

“Hello there sir. Your daughter looks like she’s having a good time, doesn’t she? I’m glad.” He smiled, but not the pretend prince smile. It was genuine, like he actually was happy for Amelia. Alfred leaned on the wall beside him, clearing his throat.

“So, uh, what’s your real name, anyway?”

“As long as I’m here, It’s Philip.” The prince replied, chuckling. “Sorry, but, I’ve gotten scolded by parents before, for 'shattering the illusion’ or something like that. Parents are sometimes quite…micromanaging. I mean, I understand that it’s your child’s birthday, but, if one more frantic mother tries to adjust my shirt..” He chuckled, and Alfred smiled, laughing under his breath.

“Ah, I mean, you don’t gotta worry about that with me, and um, you don’t have to keep up the act. Must be annoying to have to keep doing that accent.” Alfred nudged his shoulder.

“I’m afraid that’s how I actually talk, Mr. Jones.”

“Oh! Cool!”

——

Keep reading

Just Business

Honestly, I’m so freaked the fuck out to be even talking about this. I’m scared he’s going to come back. But I can’t shut up about it. My dad might be able to accept this as what it is, but I refuse, given what’s going to happen to me no matter what I do.

I work at my dad’s diner on a busy stretch of road. However, since my grandfather’s death, and with him the loss of the secret recipe for his famous meatloaf, business has taken a nose dive. Funeral costs had my dad considering bankruptcy, much to my gran’s horror. She and granddad build this place up from the foundation. People would pass by and come in from everywhere, and everyone, no matter what you looked like or who you were holding hands with, was welcome.

It was Wednesday when the black cars pulled up to the diner.

Keep reading

Method to the Madness ~ Part One

Originally posted by chimcheroo

Fairy-tale & AU Series Index

Previous Part || Next Part

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Mafia!au & Demon!au

Please excuse any errors! It’s a bit short, but it’ll get longer as time goes on!


Y/N:

I started at the schedule book, trying to understand where these words came from. I don’t remember writing this! But it looks like it’s written with my pen, and it’s my handwriting. I glared at the book, letting out a sigh of confusion. I closed the book before turning around in my spinning chair to my computer. I began to look through some files, doing the work which was set for me.

“Y/N.”

I looked up to see Bora approaching me. Her eyes were wandering around as if she was looking for something. I also looked around, curious as to what was going on.

“What is it?” I asked, looking at her for answers. It’s gonna be something stupid, I know it is. Bora works in the marketing department of the company. She only sees values in looks and money. She comes to visit when Mr. Kwon’s handsome and successful nephew comes to visit.

Though I’ve been here for a short time, I’ve figured out how things work. She must want someone’s attention.

“I heard from Yeji that some very handsome gentlemen came to visit Mr. Kwon.” She muttered. I stopped for a moment, also confused as to what she was saying.

“Ah! Yes, they said they had some business with Mr. Kwon.” I answered, trying to turn my attention back to the computer.

“Are they really that good looking? Yeji tends to exaggerate.”

I kept my eyes on the computer screen as I nodded, “Yes. They’re very good looking.”

A smirk pulled at lips, and she flipped her long black hair, pushing some behind her ear. I was expecting her to leave when another voice soon joined in.

“Are they still here?” This time softer. I inwardly groaned knowing that Yeji has now joined. They always gather around like this.

“Are you here to gawk over some men? Don’t you have things to do?” I muttered.

Keep reading

Epitome of Eighteen Histories: Kururi Orihara & Mairu Orihara Episode

This is a story from the past

A twisted story from the past.


A Few Years Ago   Raira Junior High

“Liike I saiid~, butler clothes fit Yuuhei Hanejima-san the best!”

“……Deny (No) …… Alcohol (bartender clothes) …… Fashionable (looks the best)…….”

“Noo, stupid, stupid Kuru-nee! You can drown in a cocktail shaker for all I care!”

During break the first year sisters Kururi and Mairu were fighting over an extremely meaningless topic.

“Both of them are similar though, right?”

The boy who stated that not reading the mood was glared at by the two of them with a look that said “this guy doesn’t even know anything…..”, and although receiving a shock he has doubt over his own disposition with his heart throbbing at the strangeness of those cold gazes, but that is an entirely another matter.

“But Yuuhei Hanejima would like both of them, right?”

When a girl nearby said that, the two of them nodded at the exact same timing.

“Of course!”

“…..Of course….”

Hearing that, their classmates laugh in amazement.

“Really, you two get along well, don’t you.”

Keep reading

the town of olddell | do kyungsoo

pairing: kyungsoo x reader

genre: fluff, angst, some kissing

word count: 1,745

summary: street singer kyungsoo gets invited to perform at the prince’s birthday, but he sees that the beautiful princess is in danger.

Do Kyungsoo never considered himself to be ‘famous’. He was popular, yes, but he never thought of the word ‘famous’. He knew that moving from town to town made him one of the more well known singers around the country, but when he was requested by King Kim to sing at his son’s, Prince Junmyeon, birthday party, he was completely shocked.

Olddell was always one of his favorite towns to be in. It was full of happy townspeople and none of the guards ever mistreated anyone. Everything was fair and just.

Kyungsoo usually would set up his small tent near the town’s shopping space so he’d get extra tips by passersbys. He had his guitarist, Park Chanyeol, travel with him everywhere. He considered them a team and he always refused playing a show without him.

During his fourth visit to Olddell, while him and Chanyeol were setting up their tent, three guards approached him and gave him a bow, the one in the middle that had distracting lip corners smiled and said , “Sirs Do Kyungsoo and Park Chanyeol, for the past few months, we, the entertainment unit of the town of Olddell, have been watching your performances. We have realized that both of you have been gaining a high satisfactory rate from the people that listen to your music. The Prince Junmyeon is turning 21 soon and it is a very important age here in Olddell… for it represents the complete transition to becoming a man and the throne will be passed down to him. King Kim has requested for us to find the perfect performances to create the perfect party. Several people of high positions including the royal family will be in attendance. Please, accept our offer and perform at future King Junmyeon’s 21st birthday!”

Chanyeol dropped his guitar and immediately said, “Yes, it would be our honor! Thank you so much for choosing us.” Kyungsoo could only stare and nod. The guards handed them two envelops, one for each. “These are the hand-written invitations. Let my men take care of your things and come with me to the castle, the prince wishes to meet you!”

Chanyeol handed the men the rest of their things while Kyungsoo asked the leader a few questions about the party. They were escorted to a carriage painted black, “I feel like a prince, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo whispered to him. Chanyel simply laughed and replied, “Who says you aren’t?”

This was the first time the two boys had seen the entire town and it was bigger than they had expected, “This truly is a gorgeous place.” Kyungsoo said to the leader, smiling at him. “We try our best to keep it that way. The royal family today truly is one of the finer generations that have passed this town. Our past Kings and Queens weren’t this interested in what was happening outside their castle walls.” The leader seemed to have a sad expression on his face while recalling the past leaders.

After a few more minutes in the carriage, they began to pull up to a large white castle. Stepping out, both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s jaws dropped open. “I behold to you, your home away from home for the next few days!”

The castle stood hundreds of feet tall. It was surrounded by green fields, stables, and farms. It was made up of a main house and several towers. This castle was the largest they had ever seen… and they were invited to it to do what they loved the most.

“We will now show you to your guest room, it contains two beds but if you wish to have your own room each, it can be arranged!” the leader said to them. “Good sir, thank you for all of this, but you’ve yet to tell us your name.” Kyungsoo replied. “Oh, I truly apologize. My name is Jongdae. Kim Jongdae.” Chanyeol grinned, “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, Jongdae.” Jongdae shook his head and placed his hand on his chest, “No, no! It is my own honor to meet you two! Please let me take you to your room. It isn’t my personal job but I would love to.” The boys nodded and they began walking.

The castle was humungous on the inside as well. The ceilings were extremely high and had carvings in them. The walls were filled with paintings and pictures.

As the three boys were walking they heard a faint voice. “You’re majesty! You must be very excited for your party today, correct?” Two boys appeared, one short with a crown on his head and another who was slightly taller with a dimple. “Aha! The man of the hour! Hello, Prince Junmyeon.”

“Drop the formalities, Jongdae. Yixing and I were going golfing- Ah! How rude of me… I didn’t notice our two guests, and who may the two of you be?” Prince Junmyeon had a wide smile on his face. “I’m Do Kyungsoo, the singer, and this is Park Chanyeol, the guitarist. It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty.” The two boys bowed to him before Junmyeon said, “Ah! Don’t bow, please. I don’t feel like acting happy go lucky before my party. Address me like you would any of your friends, please.” Chanyeol let out a laugh and nodded.

“Join us, boys?” Yixing piped up from behind him. “We’d love to… but we must get some rest before our performance tonight, we don’t wish to disappoint.” Kyungsoo said and Chanyeol agreed. “You’re playing at my party? I can’t wait to see how you do. Good luck, men.” Junmyeon patted each of them on their backs and walked away with Yixing who gave them an acknowledging nod.

They walked for a few minutes before arriving at a large room which Jongdae told them was their room and left them to settle in. The first thing each of them did was jump on the bed to get their naps.

Before the party, Kyungsoo stood in front of the mirror of their rented shack, fixing his attire. He applied his hair gel and sighed. “Chanyeol, I’m nervous.” Kyungsoo had performed in front of crowds of hundreds, but never in front of royalty. “Kyungsoo! Don’t make me nervous too.  You shouldn’t be nervous… your voice is amazing mixed with my tunes. You’ll do amazing like you always have.” Chanyeol’s words put the shaking boy at ease.

Chanyeol moved from where he was sitting to begin dressing up. He added a gold chain around him and enhanced his large eyes using dark eyeliner and added a diamond earring. Kyungsoo observed him and said, “Chanyeol, could you make me up? I know I usually don’t do this type of thing but I wanna look good.” Chanyeol looked at the eyeliner pen in his hand and giggled, “Of course.” He applied the makeup to Kyungsoo’s face and finished the look with a chain earring.

“Ready, Soo?” Chanyeol asked Kyungsoo. He nodded and they began walking to the ballroom. While they were going to the ballroom, Kyungsoo heard a female voice whining. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, but saw no one. “Chanyeol, you go ahead. I’ll follow you.” Chanyeol nodded and kept going. Kyungsoo began walking in the direction of the noise until he could finally hear it clearly, “I refuse. I refuse to get married to someone I haven’t even met, so don’t try to convince me!”

It was a female’s voice. “I am the King and I give the orders!” Kyungsoo heard footsteps coming his way and hid behind the corner of a wall before he saw the King’s figure walking away. He began making his way towards the girl’s voice when he entered a huge pink room. The first thing that caught his eye was a girl in a blue dress, climbing out a window. “Yah!” he yelled before running over to her and grabbing her.

“Hey! Fuck off!” She yelled, pushing his hands off her before she could stop herself from swearing. “Watch your hands.” She looked up at Kyungsoo and her jaw dropped. “I-I’m sorry. Excuse my language, sir. But may I ask what you’re doing in my room?” He looked around, suddenly flustered by the gorgeous girl’s question, “I heard yelling and saw you climbing out a window.” He said.

“Please, let me go. Please don’t tell anyone you saw me. I need to leave. Please.” She clasped her hands together and held them in front of her, begging me. “What’s going on?” He said, moving her hands away. “They want me to marry someone I don’t love. They expect me to start a life with a man I don’t want. They said that if I haven’t found anyone before 18, I’ll have to marry the prince from Rosewell. I don’t want him. Please let me run away in peace.”

“I don’t want to be a part of this. Good bye princess.” Kyungsoo began walking away before she grabbed his arm. “Please, I’ll give you whatever you want. Help me run away.” He shook his head, “And what makes you think I want anything?” She pulled down on his arm harder, “I’ll give you my virginity.” He burst out laughing and she let his hand go, “Are you serious? I’m not like that.”  

“What if I want to?” She stood on her tip toes and gave him a peck on the lips, “Princess… you shouldn’t have done that.” He brought her closer by the back of her head and kissed her again. He opened his mouth to slide his tongue into hers and she gasped. He pulled away to look at her, “Was that your first?” She nodded and he went in for another kiss, making it longer and wetter. “By the way, I’m Do Kyungsoo.”

“I’m Kim Y/N.” He laughed, “I know that.”

“Please, don’t tell anyone that I ran away, okay?” She repeated. “No. Listen. Stay here and attend the party. I’ll sneak you away when my partner and I have to move to another town, okay?” She nodded, “Wait, are you a member of that singer and guitarist duo playing tonight?” He nodded and she smiled, “I’ve heard so much.” He felt his cheeks heat up and he was flattered at her comment. “Let’s head to the ballroom, Princess. We’ll run away together soon.” She nodded.

They linked hands and began heading towards the ballroom to have the last bit of fun they ever will again at Olddell.

A Dangerous Game (Suho Mafia!au fic) Chapter 2 - Run

Originally posted by lawlliets

Warnings: mentions of abuse, gambling, follows ‘Lotto’ in some spots

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15(M), Ch. 16, Ch. 17(M), Ch. 18, Ch. 19, Ch. 20, Ch. 21Ch. 22, Bonus Chapter


I stood in the massive closet of my new room looking through the many cocktail dresses that now belonged to me. 

“As Junmyeon’s fiancé you will end up going with him to many parties and…well…gatherings of sorts. It’s only fair that you wear the best clothes to those events…” Minseok had said, showing me to the closet, “The rest of the time you’ll probably be here in the penthouse doing what every you want, wearing whatever you like…however, those dresses over there are what would be more suitable for tonight.”

Keep reading