#he’s working on a play & we we’re chatting before the show started & I thought that might’ve been it
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why’s it so embarrassing when u start catching feelings for someone aaaaaahhhhhh
#he’s simply a Silly Goofy Guy#not beating the Goofy Bi Guy stereotype lol#I do feel quite silly waitin for his ig notifs since he started dming me tho#unfortunately I do be Experiencing Feelings 😔#but also fun vibes cause it’s been awhile since I Started Talking To someone irl (like not including dating app chats)#not that we’re Talking™. idk if we are. idk. social interactions are confusing lol#maybe we are maybe not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#we messaged a bit yesterday when he messaged first#then today I sent him a meme & we’ve been messaging for awhile#he’s working on a play & we we’re chatting before the show started & I thought that might’ve been it#but he messaged again after it finished & we’ve been talking a lil while now too :)#he’s rly friendly tho & we were kinda just becoming friends so it could well be just Next Stage Of Friendship#cause it’s not like either of us have said anything flirty or anything. just talkin & joking#plus he’s a few years younger than me- not in a creepy way. both legal adults in college-#I just usually have a weird thing with age gaps over like 2 years because of a personal negative experience#so it would just make me feel better if I don’t initiate anything first#I’ll let him do that if he wants to & then ask if he had any thoughts about the bit of age difference#if anything were to get that far. who’s to say. he’s a v chill platonic friend too if that’s where things go :)#need more funny goofy friends in my life :)#ok I’m done lmao#shroomie rambles#shroomie long tags
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"Don't Look At Anyone But Me" Collection Event
Nica Schwartz
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
On my way back after submitting a report, I heard someone call out to me.
Nica: The young lady over there.
Standing there was one of the twins from Vogel.
Kate: Can I help you?
Nica: Actually, I got lost.
Nica: Would you be kind enough to guide me?
I was puzzled by the sudden request, but I nodded and he narrowed his almond-shaped eyes.
Nica: Thanks.
Kate: Don’t mention it, where are you headed?
Nica: The room we’re staying in. Do you know where it is?
Kate: Yes, this way!
I pointed down the corridor and started walking with him following behind me chuckling.
Nica: Fancy running into you like this, I really am as lucky as ever.
(Harrison’s warning made me a little wary of Vogel’s members, but Nica is easy to talk to and doesn't seem like a bad person.)
Even though I knew he was lying about something, it wasn't clear whether it was out of malice.
(It’s not a good habit to judge someone you just met, right?)
I was deep in thought while walking, and we soon arrived at Vogel’s room.
Nica: Thanks for the help, “Spatzi ¹”.
Kate: “Spatzi”?
Nica: It’s German for “Robin”.
Nica: Crown calls you “Robin”, right?
Nica: So “Spatzi” it is.
¹ In the original text, Nica says ロビン which is basically hiragana for literally "Robin" and later explains that he actually said it in German. I previously made a post asking how I should translate this into a German word and the general consensus was "Spatzi" because I was told that's a term of endearment in German, so I decided to use this word. Do feel free to let me know in the notes if there's a better word, as I don't know the German language at all.
He sat down on the sofa and shifted his gaze to the seat across from him.
Nica: Won’t you have a seat?
Kate: Huh?
Nica: It's rare for us to meet like this, so let’s chat a little. I want to know more about your job and all sorts of other things.
While I was feeling tense because it was only the two of us in the room, he propped his chin on his hand.
Nica: Besides…
Nica: I’m interested in you.
Nica was smiling, but his eyes resembled those of a predator who had caught its prey.
He looked pleased when I hesitantly sat down, and he called a maid to prepare some tea.
Nica: Well then, shall we start by reintroducing ourselves?
Kate: Yes, please.
Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, a strategist for Vogel, an organisation under direct command of the Emperor of Germany.
Kate: What does the job of a strategist entail?
Nica: I gather information, act as the brains of the group, and support Dari in various ways.
Nica: The details are confidential.
Nica: Ah, right. Just call me Nica. No need to be formal with me.
Kate: Understood, Nica.
Nica’s smile widened when I called him by his name and he pointed at me.
Nica: Now it’s your turn.
Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There were all sorts of reasons that landed me in this job position, but I used to work as a mailwoman.
Nica: Hmm, you must know your way around pretty well, then?
Kate: Yes! I’ve delivered mail all over London, so I know it well enough to show people around.
Nica: That’s great, I’ll have you show me around next time.
As I reached for my teacup, Nica’s words interrupted.
Nica: What does the Fairytale Keeper do?
Kate: I accompany Crown in their activities and record anything that happens.
(There are actually various other things, but…)
I figured it wasn't wise to go into the details, so I decided not to elaborate.
Nica: But you’re only an ordinary person, right? Isn’t it dangerous?
Kate: Everyone at Crown made a promise to protect me.
Nica: Uh-huh…
Although he looked like he was listening, there was something about his tone that sounded as if he was getting ideas that made me a little uneasy.
But that feeling quickly went away when his expression suddenly brightened.
Nica: So you’re Crown’s super, super, cute little Spatzi.
Nica: You must be really important to them.
Kate: I- I wouldn't say that…
(While it’s true that they treat me with courtesy…)
It all started because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil.
(Me being where I am today is a result of my desperation to stay alive.)
Had I not spoken up back then, I might've left this world by now.
Nica: Dari might not like it, but I think it’d be fun to have a Fairytale Keeper in Vogel.
Nica: Ah, but it’d also be no good for Ring.
Kate: No good?
Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s not good with people.
(It’s true that Ring gave off a cold impression when we first met…)
As I thought back to our first meeting, Nica leaned in and peered into my face.
Nica: Goodness, are you interested in Ring?
Kate: No, it’s not like that…
Nica: You can’t do that, because— that is mine.
He placed a finger on my lips, narrowing his eyes and flashing me an awfully charming smile.
Afterwards, we chatted about some trivial everyday topics and the sky turned a crimson hue before we knew it.
(It’s already gotten this late…)
He widened his eyes in an exaggerated manner when he glanced at the clock.
Nica: Oops, it’s already this late. I suppose it’s about time we end our conversation.
Kate: You’re right. I enjoyed our conversation.
Nica: I could say the same. Let’s talk again another time.
I thanked him as he stood up to open the door for me, and I was about to leave the room when—
Kate: eh.
He held up a lock of my hair and placed a kiss on its ends.
Nica: For our next date.
His lips parted with a soft sound.
Nica: Oh, did you forget how to get home? Or do stay here and have me lock you up?
His provocative tone made it clear that he had been going easy on me.
(To Nica, that conversation was only a way for him to gauge his circumstances. If he were to get serious—)
— He could easily steal the whole of my heart.
Kate: Pardon me.
My cheeks turned hot and I hurried out of the room without caring about who might see me.
Nica: Bis dann / See you. Spatzi.
Before he stole my heart.
…
< Nica’s POV >
While I was laying on the sofa, my younger brother came back looking haggard.
Nica: What, did you get lost?
Ring: Yeah… the place’s so huge, I couldn't tell where I was.
Ring sat down on a chair with a sigh.
Ring: If only I could easily memorise the layout of buildings like you do, Nica…
I laughed at those words.
Nica: Sometimes I pretend to get lost on purpose.
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikevil translations#otome#ikevil collection event#nica schwartz
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look of love, rush of blood | chapter one
words: ~4.3k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her, afab reader
summary: What starts as a reluctant outing with friends takes a turn when you accidentally spill a stranger's drink at the bar.
notes: FIRST CHAPTER IS HERE WOOOO!!!! hope u guys enjoy this (not so) lil intro while i get into the good stuff... >:]
⭑
"Y/N! COME ON, THE UBER IS HERE!"
“Shit. Where the hell is it?” You think, frantically digging through your makeup bag for your favorite lipstick. You’re racing against the clock, determined to finish your look before your roommate decides to leave without you. “Sorry! I’m coming!” you call out, your voice tinged with urgency.
You sigh a breath of relief as you finally spot the lipstick, buried deep in the bag like it’s playing hide-and-seek. You apply it as quickly yet precisely as you can, topping it with the matching lip gloss. You step back and give yourself one more look over in the vanity mirror, mostly satisfied with your outfit, and give your hair one last tussle for good measure.
Just as you grab your bag and phone the door swings open, revealing your roommate Joelle, her expression a mix of excitement and mild panic. “Y/N, did you hear me? We’re late! The others are already waiting!” You barely have time to process her words before rushing out the door behind her. “Agh! I lost track of time!” you exclaim, locking the door to your apartment with a sense of urgency. “It’s fine! We just need to hurry before the bar gets too crowded,” Joelle replies, her smile reassuring you as you dash down the stairs, not having time to spare to wait for the elevator.
When you reach the bottom floor, you glance through the glass front doors of your apartment complex to see your Uber driver waiting at the curb. “Oh, thank god he waited,” you mutter, relief washing over you. You and Joelle hop in the back seat, your thoughts wandering while your roommate makes small talk with the driver.
Going out wasn’t really what you had in mind for tonight. After a grueling week at work, you envisioned a peaceful Friday evening at home, possibly even treating yourself to your favorite takeout. You had already changed into comfy sweatpants and settled in with your laptop when Joelle got home, practically bouncing with excitement. She eagerly proposed a night out for drinks with your mutual friends, Sage and Alana, at a bar and lounge you’d never been to before. The thought of braving a crowded bar was the last thing you wanted. But as she continued to plead her case, you found yourself wavering. With a resigned sigh, you finally agreed, knowing deep down that it wouldn’t be so bad. There was something therapeutic about getting pretty for a fun night out with your friends- the couch will always be there when you get back.
When the car finally pulled up to the bar, the vibrant energy spilled out onto the sidewalk. Music pulsed faintly through the air, and the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you as you stepped out. Taking a deep breath, you followed Joelle inside. As you stepped into the trendy lounge, the warm glow of hanging lights illuminated the room, buzzing with activity; people chatting at the high-top tables and booths, others leaned against the bar, drinks in hand. A disco ball hung from the ceiling above the small dance floor at the back of the room where a few brave souls were already swaying to the rhythm of the music spilling from the speaker system.
Joelle turned to you. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Sage and Alana are right over there.” She points you to a cozy corner where your friends were already gathered, their laughter standing out to you amongst the buzz of the room. As you approached, the couple's familiar faces filled you with warmth, easing the lingering reluctant nerves from earlier.
“Finally!” Sage called out, grinning. “We were starting to wonder if you guys were actually gonna show up.” You grinned, settling into the booth on the opposite side of your friends. “It took me a minute to get ready! I was already in my sweats when Joelle nearly started dragging me out of the apartment by my ankles.”
“Worth it, though, right?” she teased, raising her drink in a mock toast.
You chuckled, glancing around the bustling bar. The warm glow of the lights, combined with the upbeat music, started to lift your spirits. “I guess it’s not so bad.”
Just then, Joelle slid into the booth beside you, her smile wide and infectious. “A vodka-cran for the lady!” she declared in a mock-old-timey British accent, placing a glass in front of you. “Why, thank you, dear!” you replied in the same accent, laughing before shifting back to your normal tone. “I’ll get you back later?” Joelle just grinned. “Nah, consider that my thank you gift for changing out of those ratty-ass sweatpants.” You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “Excuse me? Those ‘ratty-ass sweatpants’ are my favorite comfy pants! A beloved staple of my wardrobe!” “Staple? More like a fashion crime,” Alana shot back, laughing. “But hey, the outfit you swapped them for is adorable!” You roll your eyes with a grin and take another sip of your drink. “You guys suck.”
The four of you sat and talked for a long while after that, sharing stories, teasing one another, and catching up on all the latest happenings in your lives. Sage had plenty of horrifying encounters to recall from her job as a daycare instructor, while Alana shared the latest drama on who was hooking up with who at her office staff parties. Joelle insisted on a second round of drinks, and before long, you felt that familiar warm buzz starting to settle in.
As you finished your second drink, Joelle leaned forward over the table, a playful grin on her face. “Okay, not to change the subject, but that dance floor is getting full and I think we need to go dance.”
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Joelle's sudden enthusiasm. “Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely! Come on, dance with me!” Joelle said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
You took another sip of your drink, weighing the idea. The music pulsed through the bar, calling to you. “Alright, let’s do it!” you said, feeling a surge of spontaneity.
Joelle shot up from her seat, her confidence contagious to not just you but to Sage and Alana as well. The three of you followed Joelle’s lead, and as you made your way toward the dance floor, you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration.
With the music thumping around you, you stepped onto the dance floor, letting the rhythm guide your movements. Joelle began to sway, her energy infectious. You couldn’t help but smile as you joined in, letting the music wash over you. As you lost yourself in the rhythm, the energy of the dance floor enveloped you. Your friends’ shouts mixed with the beats, and you could feel the weight of the world slip away. The crowd moved in sync, bodies swaying and spinning. You jumped to the beat with your friends, singing carelessly.
After god knows how many songs, you realized you needed two things: a moment to sit down and another drink. Your friends were still bouncing around, showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Leaning in toward the group, you raised your voice a bit over the music. “Hey, I’m heading to sit at the bar for a minute. Do you guys need anything?” Joelle flashed a wide smile, clearly a bit more buzzed than you. “We’re all good, babe!” With a playful wink, Joelle added, “There’s a really pretty guy I've got my eye on. Let us know if you need anything, okay?” You smiled back. “Of course, good luck! Love you!” you shouted as you turned toward the bar. “Love you more!” Sage called after you.
As you made your way across the lounge floor, you suddenly became aware of the slight sway in your step. You quickly settled onto the last empty barstool all the way at the very end of the bar, next to someone you didn’t pay much mind to.
As you sat for a moment waiting for the bartender, you turned in your stool to glance back at your friends. Sage and Alana were dancing together right in the middle of the dance floor, while Joelle had already moved off to the side, chatting with a tall brunette guy wearing glasses and a couple of chunky rings. They seemed to be hitting it off, and you couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s confidence. Damn, you thought. You’d be lying if you said your roommate had bad taste in men.
As you turned around, your hand collided with the bartender’s just as she was setting a drink down next to you, causing her to drop the glass and spill its contents across the bar- and into the lap of the man sitting next to you.. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, quickly facing her. She waved her hand dismissively. “No worries at all.” She looked at the man sitting next to you. “I’ll grab you some paper towels and make you another one. Just give me a sec.”
You put your head in your hand, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as she handed the man a roll of paper towels. You sighed to yourself, figuring you should apologize to the stranger next to you for being an idiot. As you shifted on your stool to face him completely, your breath caught in your throat.
Shit.
He glanced back at you, thick eyebrows arching over warm brown eyes framed by long lashes. Messy brown curls peeked out from under a Yankees baseball cap, and he sported well-groomed mutton chops and a mustache. The intensity of his gaze combined with his broad shoulders gave off an intimidating presence that made you feel another wave of shame for spilling his drink- but damn, was he handsome.
“I’m so sorry about that. I was watching my friends, plus I’m a little buzzed— I just wasn’t thinking straight.” you stammer as he palms his thighs with the paper towels, feeling your nerves kick in. The man smiled slightly, placing the used paper towels down on the bar as he finished wiping off. “Don’t sweat it, ’s just a drink. I’ve had worse nights in bars.”
You mentally thank whatever higher power is watching over you for letting you spill a drink on someone easygoing instead of a hotheaded jerk. “I still feel bad." You smile nervously. You pause, a silence hanging heavy over the two of you. You glance at him, and the two of you lock eyes.
You can't tell if it's the liquor, the eye contact, or both- but something in you pushes to make small talk.
Shifting your weight in your seat, you raise an eyebrow. "Well, okay, how much worse of a night are we talking here?” He chuckled reluctantly, as if he were unsure about sharing the story. “Well, there was this one time I saw a girl getting hit on by some creep, she looked really uncomfortable. After a few drinks, I guess I tend to get a little bold, so I decided to tell him to back off.” He paused, shifting his weight leaning on the bar. “Turns out, he was her boyfriend.” You winced. “Oof…” “Yeah.” He nodded, laughing a bit. “He almost kicked my ass. I finished my drink and got the fuck outta there.” You smiled, thinking about how he went out of his way to make sure a girl he didn’t even know wasn’t in danger. “At least you tried to help her,” you said. “That counts for something, right?” He shrugged, a hint of humility in his smile. “I guess so. But it’s funny how quickly things can turn, y’know? One minute you think you're doin’ the right thing, and the next, you're just trying to dodge a punch. Literally or metaphorically.” You nod with a smile. “Yeah, I get that completely.” He nodded back, and the conversation faded for a moment.
You glanced at him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
He returned your gaze, a slight smile appearing on his face again. “Schlatt.”
As if on cue, the bartender brought over his replacement drink, and you reached into your pocket for some cash. “Here, let me pay for that.” you offered, and he waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, it’s okay. I already have quite the tab running with my buddies.” Before you can protest, he holds up a finger and grabs the glass, taking a sip of what was presumably whiskey. You watch his expression as he drinks, noting how his nose scrunched slightly as he downed the liquor. He places the glass back on the counter with a soft clink. “Agh, that’s some good shit.” he sighs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his curls before placing it back on. Your cheeks warm- you blame it on the alcohol.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Schlatt asked after taking another sip, and you laugh, shaking the heated feeling from your face. “Do you always buy a drink for someone when they spill liquor in your lap?” He shrugged with a smile, a playful glint in his eyes. “Only the ones who make a memorable first impression. You shoulda' seen your face when it spilled, you looked like you had just shot me or somethin'. It was fuckin’ hilarious.” You rolled your eyes, laughing along. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly aiming for comedy tonight. But I guess I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Hey, every night out on the town needs a lil’ bit of chaos,” he said, leaning his forearms against the bar again. “Makes for better stories later.” You grinned. “Yeah, you got me there.”
Schlatt tilted his head, gesturing towards the bar. “So, what’ll it be?” You laughed. “You really wanna buy me that drink, huh?” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I mean if you’re passin’ up on a free drink, be my guest.” You smirked, weighing your options. “Alright, alright. When you put it like that...” You pick up the cocktail menu, and Schlatt scoffs. “Oh, you’re one of those.” You cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing!” He grinned. “I just didn’t think you were the type to go for a thirty-dollar, ninety-percent-ice, hangover-waiting-to-happen kinda’ drink.” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Yeah, well,” You signal over the bartender. “Fine, asshole. We just met, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You feel Schlatt’s gaze linger on you as you order yourself an Old Fashioned, his look long and heavy. “I guess so.” He grins, and orders himself another whiskey.
⭑
“So, what do you do when you’re not out like this?” you ask, genuinely curious. He makes an indifferent face. “Honestly, not much. I work a lot, and when I’m not working, I don’t really go out unless I have a reason.” You nod. “What’s your reason tonight?”
Before he could continue, a loud voice booms from behind the two of you.
“SCHLATT! THERE YOU ARE, YA BASTARD!” Schlatt gives you a look, as if to say “there’s my reason”.
A tall man walks up and drapes an arm around Schlatt’s shoulders, clearly tipsy- then you recognize him. The guy Joelle was talking to.
Oh shit. Is he one of Schlatt’s friends?
“Get ‘offa me, dude.” Schlatt groans, his whole demeanor changing as he unravels the man’s arm from his shoulders. “What?” He questions. The other man laughs. “Nothin’ man. We were just wonderin’ where you were. We haven’t seen you in a while.” Schlatt rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause I don’t wanna be seen with you three making yourself look stupid on that dance floor.” The man chuckles, unfazed. “C’mon, you know you love it. We’ve got the moves!” He gestures dramatically, demonstrating some ridiculous dance move. “And, for the record, there’s a beautiful lady over there that’s been chattin’ me up for a while.”
“Yeah, okay. You’re drunk, Ted. ‘Ya sure that beautiful lady isn’t just Tucker?” Schlatt retorts, crossing his arms.
You can’t help but laugh at their banter, knowing he was talking about Joelle.
The tall guy, who you’ve come to learn is named Ted, turns to you, an amused expression on his face. “Oh, i see what’s goin’ on here.” Schlatt rolls his eyes again, somehow harder than the last time. “Dude, can you not?” Ted raises his hands in mock surrender (the same way Schlatt had earlier- the two seemed to share a handful of mannerisms), a grin spreading across his face. “Just making an observation! Looks like you’ve found yourself a partner in crime.”
“More like an accomplice to my embarrassment,” Schlatt mutters, shaking his head. You chuckle, still enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “I dunno, this is kinda funny.” “See? She gets it!” Ted interjects, grinning at you. “I’m Ted.” He extends his hand, and you shake it loosely. “Y/N,” you reply with a smile.
“Nice to meet you.” Ted continues as you break the handshake. “Anyways, Schlatt. C’mon man. You gotta come out there with us.” “Pass,” Schlatt says, shaking his head. “I’m good right here.”
“Suit yourself! You’ll regret it!” Ted shrugs, stepping back- he glances at you, then back at Schlatt.
“Regret? Not in this lifetime,” Schlatt takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Wrap it up. I wanna go to bed.” Ted rolls his eyes. “Alright Captain Buzzkill.” He claps Schlatt on the back. “Give us 10 minutes.” He turns to you “Nice to meet you, uh…” You smile. “Y/N.” “Right. Y/N. Sorry. Had a few drinks.” Ted returns your smile and heads back to join the crowd on the dancefloor, leaving you and Schlatt at the bar once again.
You shoot Schlatt a look, as if to say “Well that was something.”
“Welcome to my life,” he sighs, rolling his eyes playfully. “Always a spectacle.”
“Looks like you’ve got quite the crew,” you say, taking a sip of your drink.
“Tell me about it.” Schlatt shakes his head with a slight smile. “They’re here visiting. They’re a bit much sometimes, But they’re my guys.” The two of you turn and watch Ted blend back into the swaying mass of bodies, reconvening with Joelle and who you presumed to be another one of Schlatt's friends.
“Wanna know something funny?” you ask. Schlatt hums, intrigued. “That girl your friend has been talking to? She’s my roommate.” Schlatt laughs. “No fuckin’ shot.” You nod. “Yup. Her name’s Joelle. Sweetest girl on the planet.” He shakes his head. “What a coincidence, eh?” You stare into your drink. “Yeah, crazy.”
The two of you chat for a bit longer and you discover that Schlatt makes a living through YouTube and streaming, which you think is incredibly cool. He mentions that a bunch of other content creators are currently in New York for a Twitch event, hence the reason Ted and Charlie were staying at his apartment. After asking him a million-and-a-half questions about it, you share that you’re a journalist, writing articles for local NYC art magazines. He asks you questions too, and you can’t quite tell if he’s genuinely interested or just really good at faking it, but either way, you feel heard. The conversation flows effortlessly, jumping from topic to topic like you’d known each other for years. It was comforting, in a way.
Ted reappears as you’re laughing at something Schlatt said, this time with two others behind him- the rest of Schlatt’s friends. Ted places a ringed hand on Schlatt’s shoulder. “Not tryin’ to break this up, just letting you know- we’re ready to go when you are.” Schlatt nods and downs the last of his whiskey, that familiar slight scrunch of his nose making an appearance again. You might’ve called it adorable if you hadn’t just met him.
He settles his tab and stands from his barstool with a sigh, looking at you. You smile. “It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink.” He returns your smile tiredly, as if the liquor had just hit him all at once. “Yeah, you too. No problem.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Ted’s eyes widen as he elbows one of his friends— maybe Tucker?— in the side.
“I’ll, uh… i'll see you around,” Schlatt says, nodding before heading off. You give him a slight wave, then wave at Ted as well.
As they’re walking away, you hear Schlatt mutter- “Finally ready to part with your sweet Joelle?” Ted shot him a look of pure confusion. “What the fuck? how do you know her name?” You laugh, still amused by their ridiculous interactions. Before long, the four of them are out the door.
You sit at the bar for a moment longer, finishing your drink. You decide to get up to find Joelle, along with Sage and Alana. You spot them standing near the booth the four of you shared at the beginning of the night. As you approach them, Joelle’s eyes light up. “Hey pretty lady! Havin’ a good night?” You smile. “Yeah, starting to get tired though. You guys ready to go?” Sage nods. “Yeah, i’m ready to call it a night. Maybe we can grab some food before we go home?” Alana chimes in. “Yummmm, A late-night snack sounds perfect right now.”
The four of you gather your things and split the tab from your drinks earlier. As you all head toward the exit, you can’t help but glance back at the bar, thinking about the guys you met earlier. You wondered if you might run into Schlatt and his friends again- the night still felt full of possibilities.
You and your friends discover a cozy little gelato shop a short walk down the road, where you all sit together and enjoy your treats. Eventually, it was time to call it a night, and you exchanged tipsy hugs and cheek kisses before you all ordered your Ubers, you and Joelle heading back to your apartment while Sage and Alana made their way to theirs.
⭑
As you unlocked the door to your apartment, Joelle walked in and flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh- she was definitely a bit closer to drunk than you were. You smiled and sat down next to her legs. “Was tonight everything you wanted it to be?” She turned to face you, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Hell yeah! I had such a blast! And did you see that guy I was talking to?! Oh my god.” You chuckled, recalling the conversation you had with Ted and Schlatt. “Oh, I definitely saw him.” Joelle giggled. “His name is Ted. He’s from Los Angeles, can you believe it? AND I got his number. Maybe if things work out I'll convince him to stay here.” You laughed, astonished at her already growing attachment to this stranger from the bar. “Maybe.” Joelle sat up, leaning her arm on your shoulder. “Hey, wait a second! Don’t act like you weren’t chatting someone up too! I saw you and Mr. tall-dark-and-broody at the bar.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. “Mr. tall-dark-and-broody? That’s quite the title.” Joelle nudged you playfully. “Come on! You know you were vibing with him. What was his name?”
You could feel Joelle’s gaze probing, urging you to say more about the guy you’d spent nearly two hours chatting with. Eventually, she cracked you, and a smile crept across your face. “Okay, fine. His name was Schlatt, and maybe he was really, really attractive. But I wasn’t talking to him, we were just… having a conversation, y’know?”
Joelle raised her eyebrows. “Schlatt? I think Ted said that was the name of his friend that he’s staying with.” You avoided eye contact, not sure what to say.
After a moment of silence, Joelle gasped. “Oh! Oh my god! He’s-, they’re-,” she grabs your shoulders. “Your guy is friends with my guy!” “He’s not my guy!” You interject, and Joelle waves her hand. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, ‘just having a conversation’, huh? You sure you weren’t flirting a little?” You roll your eyes. “No! I wasn’t! It all started in the first place because I wasn’t paying attention and knocked his whiskey into his lap.”
“Oooh, a whiskey guy. That’s hot.” Joelle giggled. “Okay, you’re definitely drunk and totally missing the point.” you said, laughing as you slung your arm around her shoulders. “That doesn’t matter! I don’t need to be sober to tell you that you should text him back the moment he reaches out. I could feel the chemistry from the dance floor.”
Suddenly, a realization hit you.
“Shit. He’s not going to text me. I didn’t give him my number.”
“WHAT?!”
⭑
After Joelle started to crash, you helped her change into pajamas and remove her makeup, and once she crawled into bed, you did the same for yourself. As you stared in the mirror at your bare face, your thoughts drifted back to Schlatt. You kicked yourself mentally for not offering him your number, but you told yourself it was fine. If fate wanted it to happen, it would. Sometimes, you meet a beautiful stranger and never see them again—that's just how life goes.
Then you remembered that your best friend and his best friend had really hit it off. Even though you didn’t give him your number tonight, it was bound to come up eventually if Joelle and Ted stuck it out. You started spiraling, envisioning yourself ten years down the line at Joelle and Ted’s wedding—locking eyes with Schlatt across the dance floor, remembering that one conversation the two of you shared ten years ago at some random bar before you left New York City and fell off the grid, and-
You stopped yourself. What the hell was that? You sigh and glance at yourself in the mirror again, thinking, “I’m still tipsy, and I really need to go to bed.”
As you settle beneath your covers and close your eyes, you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand—an unusual vibration pattern that signals it’s Joelle. “I thought she was asleep?” you wonder. But as you read her message, your heart skips a beat.
jelly<3: texting ted jelly<3: he said he had a lot of fun tonight jelly<3: and schlatt did too ;) jelly<3: bet ur glad u came out with us!!!!!!!!!! i love u
Your heart flutters thinking about Schlatt again. Unable to think of a better response, you quickly type one out and toss your phone back on the nightstand, switching it to Do Not Disturb mode this time.
you: go to bed!!!!!
You drift off to sleep, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.
Shit.
⭑ next chapter →
#jschlatt#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt x y/n#jschlatt x you#jschlatt fanfic#chuckle sandwich fanfic#chuckle sandwich x reader#ted nivison fanfic#look of love rush of blood#:3
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- - C A R A M E L - -
Before the melting
Genre: BTS, Idol AU, poly au, BTS x reader, OT7, OT7 x reader, Idol BTS, Dom BTS, sub reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut
Warnings: BTS x reader, very subby reader, innocent reader, power play, eventual smut, sexual and non sexual domination, a lot of skinship (but like lots) excessive pet names, sexism, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, maybe BTS x BTS etc…
…
“Sunbaes, did you hear about the new girl serving in the cafeteria?” Yeonjun asked them as he saw them all sitting in one of the lounges of Big Hit’s building. They had just gotten out of a gym session together, so they looked pretty much exhausted.
“A new girl? I didn’t know they had hired new staff” Namjoon answered without showing any interest, since he was looking at some new art collection magazine he had found laying around.
“Hmm, Soobin told me the other day. Seems like she is quite eye catching. He thought you all may like her, but he doesn’t have the courage to tell you” He goes to continue speaking, but an alarm suddenly starts to go off on his phone, and his face changes quickly. “Oh no! I’m late for rehearsal! I’ll see you around sunbaes!” The boy runs off, and all bangtan members chuckle at him.
“Jimin, wanna go get some coffee?” Taehyung’s voice fills the air a couple seconds later, and the elder of them all laughs openly at him.
“You want to go check the new girl out, don’t you?” Seokjin shakes his head disapprovingly, but Taehyung just shoots him a boxy smile and shrugs innocently.
“What makes you think so? I’m suddenly craving for some coffe, you know, to keep me awake”
“You don’t even like coffee, you moron” Yoongi side-eyes him, and Taehyung visibly shivers, exaggerating the effects of his hyung’s cold stare. To everyone’s surprise, Yoongi stands from his place on the couch, and starts walking towards the elevators. All the members sent him surprised looks, and he scoffs with a very light blush on his ears. “What? I’m actually craving a cup”
“Of course you are, Hyung” Jungkook speaks, taking small little jumps towards the elevator while being followed by the other two members of the Maknae line and Jin. Namjoon and Hoseok choosing to stay behind, both attention caught on other stuff.
The elevator trip is short but lively, as they are all chatting and teasing each other. Soon enough they are all on the ground floor, we’re the cafeterias are located. There are a few of them on the same building, one being exclusive for the workers idols of Hybe. They walk in, noting something different in the atmosphere, and they see some of the members of Lesserafim standing at the counter with teasing smiles and chuckling to themselves.
“Chaewonnie, what’s going on here?” Jin is the first to approach them curiously and to question their doings.
“Oh! Sunbaes!” All the members do their respectful bows at the presence of the Bangtan members, but soon go back to their relaxed stance “We are waiting for our coffees, right girls?”
Both Yunjin and Sakura chuckle softly, and the Maknae line shared a confused look. What could be so funny about picking some coffee up?
Their answers come soon enough when the doors to the inside bakery of the café open, and a new face comes out of it with flushed cheeks and some flour staining your uniform. You trip with your own feet, but somehow manage not to drop their orders and regain your balance. Your flush only increases when you realize there’s more people than when you left. None other than some of the BTS members, one of your favorite groups, and they all saw you making a fool of yourself.
“I’m so so sorry for taking so long, the red velvet cookies were not ready so I had to make a new batch and there was no flour so I had to go fetch more and the ovens weren’t working correctly so I had to call for help and today I’m alone managing the café…” You apologize sincerely as you ramble, bowing repeated and anxiously at the girls who just look at you fondly.
“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart? Doing all that just so Sakura could have her cookies”
Your rambling gets interrupted by the way you start to stutter nervously and how your blush intensifies til it reaches your ears, and the girls giggle, affirming you are to easy to tease. They pay you and offer you some kind words as goodbyes, leaving you to it.
The boys were absolutely dazed by you.
Yoongi didn’t dare to make a move. You looked so…tiny and fragile, like even the smallest of movements would scare you away. But your eyes were beautiful, shiny like a doll’s, but yours were full of life. You reminded him of a puppy, with your big eyes waiting for a head pat, some praising words or a pretty collar. And he wanted to give all of them to you.
Jungkook wanted to tuck you in his pocket and bring you back to their shared apartment, where he would roll you in a blanket and hand feed you until you were chirping for him to stop. Maybe put his fingers inside your mouth and let you suckle on them until you fell sleep…or until he made you gag with them if the mood allowed it.
Taehyung…Taehyung just wanted to have you in his arms, mumbling soft words in your ear until you were writhing from the tickling it would cause on your sensitive skin. Because you seemed to have the most sensitive of skins, with the way the delicate flushed seemed to decorate it. How fun would it be to add some pretty marks to it…
Jimin was looking at your plump lips, and the way they were swelling a bit from how much you had been chewing on them. He wanted to bite them too, or maybe give them a better use. You also looked thin, a little too thin for his liking, so he wanted to make sure you were eating and sleeping properly. He couldn’t have such a pretty thing uncared for.
Jin was specially affected by you. All of them had a big weakness for small, cute, innocent things, but he considered himself the biggest fan of those characteristics. He wanted to dress you in the prettiest of lace clothing…yeah, lace would suit your fair and soft skin, maybe satin too. Undo your messy bun and help you do your hair so your pretty neck would be at his disposal and help massage the tension off your back…Oh he could already imagine your beautiful naked back and…
“W-w-would you like to order? Or you need more time? I-I can give you more time if you need…or I can just shut up…”
Oh, they were in for a ride.
And wait until Namjoon and Hoseok had their toll on you.
#ot7 x you#bts soulmate#ot7 x reader#bts#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts au#bts au fanfic#bts idol au#bts poly x reader#bts poly fic#bts poly au#bts x reader#caramel#sub reader#le sserafim#poly bts x reader#bts ot7 x reader#bts ot7#ot7 fanfic#ot7 series#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook smut#jiminbts#namjoon#yoongi#bts jin#hoseok#taehyung
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things we don’t say: part 2 (kth)
banner credit: @itaeewon
summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.
pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff
word count: 11.4k
chapter warnings: IN THE SOOP TAE, swearing, alcohol consumption, feelings?, implied sexual situations (not for oc), that chicken fight game you can play in a pool (definitely not the animal cruelty kind, just want to clarify), bartender jungkook (who is also an absolute MENACE), infidelity, namjoon’s chest
a/n: we’re heading into the thick of things now! thank you to everyone who has shown this series love thus far. and even to those who may be silently reading, i appreciate each and every one of you. these characters have been in my head for years, and it’s so incredible to finally get to share them!
PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST
Read on ao3
You’re starting to think you might be a terrible friend.
It's been a week and a half since Maya's art show when Jimin slides into the chair next to you in your office building's cafeteria. You've worked at the same company since graduation but in different departments, so while you don't see each other every day, you occasionally grab lunch together or pop over to each other's desk for a quick chat.
"Hey, stranger," he chirps, setting his food on the table before peering closely at your face. "Almost forgot what you looked like."
You roll your eyes at him. After the incident at the gallery sent your brain into an emotional spiral, you had decided to put some distance between you and Taehyung until you could figure out what the hell this all meant for your friendship. As a result, you hadn't been over to the guys' apartment since then—an unusually long amount of time for you to stay away.
Jimin frowns at your lack of a response, leaning forward until you look at him. "You avoiding us?"
"No," you say simply, busying yourself by taking a bite of your lunch.
"Sorry, let me rephrase. Are you avoiding Tae?"
You chew slowly, carefully considering your words before settling on, "Why would I be?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking. For a friend of course." Jimin shrugs. "He mentioned that you haven't really been talking to him—asked if I knew why. Plus, you missed two Sunday meal preps."
"I've missed them before—"
"Two!"
You purse your lips, guilt creeping in at the thought of Taehyung spending two nights cooking alone as you broke your tradition. "You can tell him what I told him—I've been busy."
Jimin frowns again, watching you stare at the table as you chew another bite. "Is something going on? Did he say something to you?"
"About what?" you ask, eyes snapping up to his.
"I..." he hesitates, suddenly uneasy. "I don't know. I just know that I've never seen you two like this."
"Like what?"
"Apart."
You give a dry laugh, more out of nerves than anything. "Chim, we're not literally attached at the hip, you know? We have our own lives."
"Yah, you know that's not what I mean." He sighs. "I can just tell he's missing you, that's all.”
If getting called out on missing meal prep nights made you feel guilty, then this is the true slap to the face. Taehyung may be mild and introspective by nature—a quiet force in his own right—but he holds close those who are dear to him, and you know he can't be pleased with your recent silence.
Still, any guilt tingling through your veins inevitably winds up outweighed by the memory of the flash of heartbreak that had crossed his face at the party, reinforcing your need for space.
"Well we'll see each other in a couple days," you murmur, a tiny burst of excitement breaking into your mind at the thought of your upcoming vacation.
Property of Jungkook's family, the beach house rarely used by his parents had become a staple for your friend group over the years as the go-to site for New Year’s parties and summer holidays. When Hoseok and Sunny had lamented the astronomical cost of the wedding and how they were going to opt out of having bachelor and bachelorette parties to help save money, Jungkook had offered up the house to do a combined pre-wedding bash to celebrate their upcoming nuptials.
Jimin taps his fingers on the table, looking at you quietly before accepting the change in topic. "It should be fun. Jace coming?"
"No, he has that conference."
"Damn," Jimin huffs. "Does that guy ever get a day off?"
"Guess he had to afford the ring somehow," you say, the corners of your mouth tilting up on impulse.
Jimin smiles back. "And here I was, wishfully thinking we might get a front row seat to a proposal this weekend."
“Not his vibe.” You scrunch your nose. “He never went to the house as frequently as everyone else. And I don’t know if he’d want a bunch of other people around. At least not people who know us.”
“Aww, why not?” Jimin whines. “We could all celebrate with you! And Maya could take pictures!”
“Or Tae.”
“Or—yeah, or Tae.”
You pretend not to have noticed his hesitation or the way he startled at that, and certainly not the way it made your pulse jump. Has everyone really been seeing this except you?
“Regardless,” you say, trying to ignore the sudden nausea rolling in your stomach, “I don’t think he’ll do it in front of you guys. And if he was going to ask Maya to take pictures, I think he would’ve done so by now if he was going to propose soon.”
When you had told Maya about the ring the afternoon after the gallery opening, she’d seemed genuinely surprised, clapping her hands together and immediately calling dibs on being maid of honor.
Go figure.
“Ah, well,” Jimin sighs. “There’s always the planning to help with.” He holds up a hand and begins ticking off his fingers. “And the bridal shower, the bachelorette party, rehersal dinner, eventual baby shower—“
“Woah, Park, getting a little ahead of yourself now, no?”
“Y/N, this is an exciting time for you! I’m excited for you!” He slurps down a mouthful of his noodle bowl. “And maybe I’m living a little vicariously through you. Maybe. A little.”
“Geez, Kook’s right, you are in a drought.”
“Oh, great. You too now?”
You giggle as he dramatically presses a hand to his forehead, food puffing out his cheeks.
“But really though,” he says, leaning forward again with concern in his eyes, “you are excited, right? After you told us about the ring, you seemed a bit off.”
Shit.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you get drunk that fast in a while.”
“I was happy for Maya and Tae.”
“And yourself?”
“Yeah, and myself.”
Jimin stares at you for a long few seconds, clearly not buying what you’re selling. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” He leans back in his chair in a way that says he’s letting you off the hook. “But you’d better figure out this weird thing with Tae before he corners you at the house. Good luck avoiding him then.”
Okay, maybe not entirely off the hook.
The rest of the short work week passes in a blink, and you quickly find yourself packing for your trip on Wednesday night, the plan being to leave Thursday morning and stay until Monday. Jace fiddles with his phone on the bed, occasionally glancing up to watch you flit around the room as you fill your travel bag with an excessive amount of clothes.
"Are you leaving for five days or a month?" he teases as you cram ten pairs of underwear into a side pocket.
"I like to keep my options open," you say. "Never know what could happen with the weather."
"Or your bladder, apparently."
"Hey, it's gonna be hot. I'll have to hydrate."
He laughs at that before his eyes settle on you with a warmth that has you shifting under his gaze.
“What?”
“I just love you, you know?” he hums.
Warmth blooms in your chest. “I love you, too.”
“It’s going to suck being apart.”
“I know,” you sigh. “I wish you could’ve come.”
At your words, you feel like you can literally see a light bulb turn on in his head as his expression brightens with an idea. “Do you want to take my jacket?”
He can only mean one jacket. You’d found it together a month after you started dating at a thrift shop downtown, and it’s been his signature piece of clothing ever since. Jace had pulled the bomber jacket and its bright green satin off the rack, and your first reaction had been to laugh. The thing practically glowed.
“You’ll look like a traffic light,” you’d giggled.
But Jace was already pulling the shimmering material over his shoulders. “Consider this your green light to jump my bones whenever you want,” he’d said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“I’d feel bad separating you from it, to be honest,” you say in the present. “I’m pretty sure a piece of your soul is tied to that jacket by now.”
He pouts. “You’ll be carrying a piece of my heart already; what’s a piece of my soul?”
“Smooth.” You poke at your bag. “I may not have any extra room in here though.”
“Fair enough, but if you change your mind, the offer still stands. What time are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Eleven. Should get us there a little before lunch."
"Us?" He pauses, setting down his phone. "You're driving with Tae?"
"No, Maya." A tinge of panic drops into your chest at the mention of Taehyung's name. Does he know? "Why?"
Jace shrugs, nonchalant. "No reason, just wondering. And you're back Monday?"
"Mhm, by dinnertime." You settle on the bed next to him, trailing your fingers along his forearm. "Do you want to maybe do a date night after work that day?"
He sighs deeply, tilting his head back against the headboard. "We have our conference debrief Monday, so who knows when I'll get home." You nod in understanding, but the disappointment must show on your face because then Jace is leaning forward to take your hand in his. "I'll tell you what, I know work has been keeping me from you lately, so let me make up for it.”
The pads of his fingers lightly dance along your jaw. "Fancy date night next Saturday? That upscale Italian place on Fifth that you love so much? I can make a reservation."
Your heart pounds as you will your eyes not to subconsciously drift to his desk, and you put on your best poker face. "It's a date."
The drive proves an easy one for you and Maya as sunny weather and a surprising lack of traffic has you at the house in under an hour. As you drive through the iron gates, a small mansion, white and pristine, spreads itself out before you, and you're once again reminded of just how wealthy a family Jungkook comes from.
You had grown up very well-off, sure, but Jungkook’s parents and their vast real estate portfolio are on an entirely different level of rich. And while your parents had immediately cut you off right after you left for college, Jungkook’s parents continue to supplement his bartending income with a monthly allowance to this day.
The word “spoiled” is a bit of an understatement when it comes to your friend.
"You sure you don't want anything more serious with Kook?" you tease Maya, who sits in the passenger seat with her dark sunglasses over her eyes. "All this could be yours."
"As if," she scoffs. "Not worth it to have to put up with his ass for the rest of eternity."
You key in the code for the front door and are greeted by a multitude of voices, the cavernous open-concept kitchen/dining room/living room only serving to amplify those inside. Hoseok and Sunny are quick to reel you in, introducing you to Sunny's three bridesmaid friends, Hoseok's brother (who you’ve met a few times before), and—
"Joonie!"
Namjoon swoops in to pull you into a bear hug while lamenting how long it's been since he last saw you. Hoseok's best friend since freshman year of college, the former pre-med major had been a core member of your group of friends, but med school combined with helping to manage his family's restaurant means that you rarely see him nowadays in spite of him sharing an apartment with Hoseok and Sunny.
"How's the roomie search going?" you ask as Namjoon pulls Maya into an equally crushing hug.
"Mmph, still no luck. Though I may have an old friend from grade school moving into the city soon, so we'll see if that pans out." He throws a quirked brow at Hoseok. "But I haven't entirely given up on convincing these two to reconsider breaking up the dream team."
"Ah, Joon, you really wanna live with two newlyweds that badly?" Hoseok whines. "Just think about it for two seconds. Really think about it."
Namjoon clicks his tongue, cheeks now tinged with a dusting of pink. "Okay, maybe you have a point."
The light mingling continues as everyone settles in, and you find yourself taking stock of the kitchen and planning a grocery run with Sunny's friends when the last three members of your party come spilling through the door. Your companions head back to the entrance for introductions, but you stay firmly put, mindlessly busying yourself with plates and silverware, nerves alight at the thought of who just entered the house.
Voices still echoing from the living room, it's only a minute or so later when you sense the quiet presence of someone stepping into the kitchen, and, ever in sync, you don't need to turn around to know who.
"Hey, can I talk to you?"
You turn on instinct, your body responding to his voice before your brain can remind you of your avoidance. Taehyung leans against the kitchen island in a long-sleeved yellow shirt, baseball cap turned backwards on his head. Chin slightly tilted towards his chest, he's gazing at you from under his lashes, and you recognize it as nerves. "I, um, I'm about to go on a grocery run."
"I can come with?" he offers. "Keep you company, carry the heavy stuff—"
"I made plans to go with Sunny's friends, actually."
"Oh, okay." His shoulders drop ever so slightly, and you glance away at the shoreline crashing in the distance, anywhere but at your best friend looking like a kicked puppy in front of you because of your own cowardice.
"Listen, Y/N—"
"Later?" You quickly interrupt, not mentally prepared to have this conversation right now, especially with Jimin casting you looks from where he stands in the living room.
Taehyung licks his lips, seeming to scan your face for something before he swallows down words on the tip of his tongue, grimacing as if they're nails. "Yeah, okay. Later."
When you said later, you truly meant it. While you and Sunny’s friends (Taehyung thinks their names were Iseul, Hana, and Yumi) run out for groceries, the rest of the group bustles around the house, splitting up rooms, settling in, and eventually migrating to the pool. Taehyung tries to catch you again when you return, but you hurry past him with a box of liquor, mumbling something about helping Jungkook set up the bar out back. Sunny’s friends dump the rest of the groceries on the kitchen island before scurrying away to the back deck with everyone else, which is how Taehyung winds up unpacking the bags.
Alone.
Nice.
He’s pushing a box of ramyeon on top of the fridge when he hears the back door click and slide open behind him.
“Need a hand?”
Namjoon walks into the kitchen, fingers poking at one of the bags.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
They unload the groceries in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Namjoon says, “So how have things been?”
Taehyung shrugs a shoulder. “Ah, you know, the usual. You?”
“Same.”
Quiet takes over again, and Taehyung thinks the conversation has ended before it even really started as he moves to place a bottle of orange juice into the fridge. But then—
“I heard about Y/N and Jace.”
Taehyung freezes mid-motion, the cool air from the open fridge slipping out and chilling his skin. When he looks up at Namjoon, the other man is studying him with a calm intensity that raises goosebumps along his arms. It’s not his first time being under Namjoon’s microscope, but he’ll never get used to the feeling of being simultaneously picked apart and comforted. Because while his friend may exude a quiet warmth, he always gives the sense that there’s also a million calculations going on under the surface at any given time.
It’s easy to let one’s guard down around Namjoon.
With that in mind, Taehyung opts for the simplest answer, slowly closing the refrigerator and saying, “Yeah?”
Namjoon nods, equally slow. “Are you alright?”
“I’m great,” Taehyung says, breaking the eye contact and closing the refrigerator to reach for another bag. “She’s always wanted this. And Jace is…” He finds himself rooting around his brain trying to find a descriptor for the guy. For someone who he’s known for several years, it’s bizarre how he can’t find a single word for him.
Weird.
“She’s happy with him,” is what he eventually comes out with.
“But is he right for her?” Namjoon presses.
“You think he’s not?”
Namjoon reaches up to put a few bags of snacks into a cupboard. “I don’t know. It’s like he was always around in college, but he was never truly present, you know?”
“That’s a Joon-ism if I’ve ever heard one.”
Namjoon smiles, a dimple dotting his cheek. “You don’t get what I mean?”
“No, I do. But that’s not important, is it? It doesn’t matter if we think he’s the right guy; it matters if she thinks he’s the right guy. And if she does, then I support it. It’s not my place to do anything else.”
The words settle in the room, and he means every one.
“You know, I’ve always admired the two of you,” Namjoon says after a moment. “The way you care for each other is…extraordinary, to say the very least.”
The sincerity in his voice makes Taehyung blush. “Well, we only had each other growing up, you know? She saved my life when we were kids. I truly believe that.”
“I know, you’ve said that before. She gave you a way out.”
“A way out, a purpose, a friend.” He crumples a plastic bag into his hand. “She chose me when no one else did. Not even my own family.”
And you had, when no one else seemed to want anything to do with him, there you were, hanging by his side like his own personal guardian angel.
“She’s the most incredible person I know, and I would just…do anything for her.”
“Including watch her marry him, apparently.”
“Yes,” Taehyung says. Unhesitating. “If that’s what she wants.”
“And where does that leave you?”
Taehyung has nothing to answer that with—his worst fear laid bare in front of him. It’s the thought that keeps him up at night, plagues the very marrow of his bones every time someone mentions that tiny velvet box. Your childhood friendship may have allowed you to grow together as one through the years, but just as trees grow apart as they grow upwards, it feels like only a matter of time before your branches no longer intertwine, drawn apart by jobs and relationships, life and love.
How long until you’ve outgrown him? How long until you’ve started your own family and left him behind?
He has no right to you, and he knows that. The last thing he would ever want to do is hold you back, but perhaps a part of him thought he’d have more time. Now, with you suddenly not talking to him for reasons he can’t even begin to grasp, he feels like he may have already lost you.
Namjoon puts him out of his misery. “Do you know what Plutarch said about friendship?”
“Who?”
“I don’t need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better.”
Taehyung stares, stunned and confused. Because Namjoon couldn’t possibly be suggesting…
“You’re saying I should tell her to say no to him?”
“I’m saying it’s possible to be selfless to a fault.”
It doesn’t sound terribly different in Taehyung’s mind, but he tries to consider Namjoon’s words regardless. Your happiness has always been his utmost priority, but could his unconditional support really be doing more harm than good? He likes to believe that if he felt your well-being were truly at risk, he would speak up.
Then again, with the way his friend is looking at him, he also can’t help but feel like he’s missing something important.
“What are you trying to specialize in again?” he asks, deflecting.
“Psychiatry.”
“Of course.”
Namjoon chuckles. “It’ll all work out in the end.” He winks, moving to rejoin your friends outside. “Life finds a way.”
You’ve managed to evade Taehyung all day, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t felt his eyes on you.
The early hours had been easy, your supermarket run giving you an (albeit weak) excuse to put some physical distance between the two of you. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain, especially after your group gathered together to decide what to do tonight.
When you’d entered the living room, Taehyung had already been seated at the end of the couch, a free spot open on his left; with the way that his hand had been resting, it was almost as if he was saving it for you. Instead, you’d chosen an armchair diagonally across from him, squirming more and more the longer he looked at you. Throughout the entire conversation, as the group decided upon going to the beach bar down the street to kick off your first night at the house, you don’t think his eyes left you even once.
You’re being a coward, and you know it.
Now, you sit at the vanity in your room, struggling with your necklace and just about ready to give up on the damn thing so you don’t hold everyone else up. The clasp doesn't want to cooperate, your fingers can't seem to get purchase on the thin metal, and really, who are you trying to look good for anyway?
Right as you prepare to abandon the cause and stuff the offending item back in your bag, someone knocks on the door and you yell for them to come in.
Taehyung saunters into the room, now wearing a black t-shirt and shorts, his hair pushed back in such a way that you can tell he's been running his hands through it. His eyes skim your figure as he softly closes the door behind him, and you feel your pulse double in pace. "Need help?"
"It's okay—I, um—" but before you can stutter out an excuse, he's already taking the thin chain from your hands, and all you can do is try not to focus on how his fingers feel brushing the back of your neck.
"There. Easy peasy." He eyes you up and down again before clearing his throat. "Looks good on you."
"I, uh, thanks." Your voice is practically a whisper, and you busy yourself with your make-up case...which may have been an adequate distraction if not for the fact that you've already done your make-up and so your hands are only left to wander aimlessly. Glancing up, you catch Taehyung gazing at you over your shoulder in the mirror, and the intensity of his stare has you dropping the case back to the table. "What?"
"You're avoiding me." He states it as a fact, eyes unwavering, and you turn to face him.
"I'm not."
"You are." He searches your face as if to find the answer written there in big, bold letters. "Why?"
A tiny spider makes its way across the corner of the ceiling, and you find yourself staring at it as you chew on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say.
"Hey," Taehyung murmurs, pulling your attention back to him. "It's me, yeah? We don't keep secrets."
But still you hesitate. "You won't get mad?"
He reaches out to hook his pinky with yours. "Of course not."
Letting out a shaky breath, you ask, "Are you okay with Jace proposing?" The question hangs between you for a second, the air thickening with apprehension.
His eyebrows press together, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, it's just..." You pause to collect your thoughts. "When I told you about the ring at the gallery opening, there was a second where you appeared to be…bothered."
"Ahh, well..." He pushes his hands through his hair, mulling over his next words. "Do you want me to be honest?"
"Please."
"I know we're friendly, but I've just never been his biggest fan, even in college." Taehyung shrugs. "You know I want the best for you, and he seems like a good guy and all, I just—I don't know." Another run of his hand through his hair. "I just get a weird vibe from him sometimes."
You smirk at that. "A weird vibe?"
"Yeah, like," he licks his lips, still fidgeting. "I can't put my finger on anything in particular, just something about him rubs me the wrong way sometimes." You open your mouth to respond and he quickly cuts in, "But I will 100% support you! If he's who you want and he makes you happy and treats you well, then I will cheer you on the whole way. Hell, I'll even walk you down the aisle if you want me to." That draws a small laugh from you, and he smiles. "If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. That's all I care about."
You take in his beaming figure and are reminded of how thankful you are to have this man in your life. But the voice in the back of your head is still not entirely placated and before you can stop yourself, you're blurting, "And that's really it?"
Taehyung's smile fades, lips slowly turning downward into a frown, and you silently curse yourself. After seventeen years of friendship, the man can practically read your mind and you know it. "What aren't you telling me?"
You sigh. Seems like there's no way getting around it at this point, and so you decide you may as well dive in. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you quietly ask, "You don’t…have feelings for me?”
Taehyung's eyes blow wide, and you're surprised his jaw isn't touching the floor. After several moments of stunned silence, he lets out a strangled, "What?"
"No, I just—" you stutter. "Look, someone said you did, and after you seemed upset about Jace proposing, I thought maybe..."
He's deeply scowling now, the crease back between his eyebrows, and a flare of his nostrils indicates that he's pissed. "Who?" he asks.
"Who what?"
"Who said that?"
"Tae—"
"No, Y/N, if people want to talk about me behind my back and screw with my private life, I have a right to know who."
He stares you down until you purse your lips and break. "Maya."
"Fucking hell," he says under his breath as he rubs at the lines in his forehead, and his lack of a denial has your head spinning.
"So it's true?"
"Y/N—"
"You haven't answered the question—"
"No!" He almost shouts it. "I don't."
"Because if you did have feelings for me, you could tell me. No secrets, right?"
He lets out a huff and stuffs his hands in his pockets, leveling his gaze back at you. "No," he says. Firmly. Definitively. "No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you."
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. But something in your blood continues to tingle.
"Okay."
And really? You should've known. Should've trusted to get the truth from him and not secondhand from your friends who, though they mean well, have been known to meddle and gossip (and sure, maybe that includes yourself at times).
The heightened tension has dissipated from the room, but the two of you are still left looking awkwardly at each other. After a stretch of time, Taehyung shifts on his feet and asks, "Y/N, are we good?"
There's a hint of fear in his eyes, and it has any residual worry you're feeling melting away. This is still Tae. Your Tae.
"Of course we are." You link your pinky with his. "Always."
The beach bar is relatively crowded for a Thursday night, the warm summer air and mix of bodies driving your group to disperse around the venue. Some migrate towards the live band, while others choose to mingle (and flirt) with the other patrons.
Noticing the way one guy at the bar has been eyeing you since you got here, Taehyung sticks close to your side, just in case. That is, until Namjoon finds his way back to the two of you looking harried, drawing you in so he can gently rest his hands on your elbows.
“Y/N, can I borrow you?” His light smile and the way he leans in close are clearly meant to project the image of intimacy, but his eyes are desperately screaming for help. “There’s an intoxicated woman who seems determined to motorboat me, and I don’t know where Maya is. I need a fake girlfriend.”
You pretend to swoon. “Joonie, with a chest like that, I’d be honored to be your fake girlfriend.”
Something aches behind Taehyung’s ribs as he watches you walk away on Namjoon’s arm when he just got you talking to him again. Still, a bit of breathing room is probably for the best. His conversation with you has him rattled; he doesn’t think his pulse has fully returned to normal since you suggested he has feelings for you. At the very least, he was able to smooth things out, which has noticeably eased the weight he’s been carrying the past couple of weeks.
But speaking of your conversation, you being summoned away by Namjoon gives him the opportunity to address the other elephant in the room.
He scans the crowd, determinedly ignoring the woman who’s been trying to catch his eye from a few tables over. (She pouts in his peripheral vision, shifting the neckline of her shirt to sit lower on her chest.) Finally spotting his target making her way back from the bathroom, he quickly moves to intercept her before she can join you and Namjoon at the bar.
Maya startles as he tugs lightly on her arm, leading her to a quieter spot towards the edge of the beach before abruptly spinning to face her.
"What the fuck?"
"What?" she quirks an eyebrow as if in askance but her overall countenance says that she knows exactly what this conversation is going to be about.
"You know what."
"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it."
Taehyung takes a deep breath. He loves Maya like a sister, but that sibling relationship means that she often gets under his skin like one, too. "You told Y/N that I'm in love with her?"
Her other eyebrow joins the first one in climbing her forehead. "Are you?"
"No."
Maya scoffs. "I'm going to give you another chance to say that, but try to sound like you actually believe it this time."
"You had no right—"
"So you're not denying it now?"
"I said no."
"Okay, that time was better, but it could still use some work—"
"Maya, fuck!" He scrubs a hand over his face. "Don't do this."
"She needs to know! What did you tell her?"
“That I don’t—“
“I thought you two didn’t lie to each other.”
“I didn’t!”
“You’re full of shit, and you know it.”
He’d swear he can feel his eyelid twitch. Maya always seems to know which buttons to press to get a reaction out of him. "She's getting married, for fuck's sake!"
"No, she has a boyfriend with a ring box in his drawer."
"Same difference."
"It's not."
"It is."
"She hasn't said yes yet, Tae."
He goes quiet at that. It’s painfully reminiscent of his conversation with Namjoon, and yet he’s equally at a loss. What are they honestly expecting him to do here? What could he possibly do that would accomplish anything other than drive you away, and rightfully so?
Maya’s gaze rakes over his face, scrutinizing him with a mixture of frustration and pity. "Tell me it isn't killing you."
Taehyung licks his lips, looking out across the bar until he finds where you’re standing with Namjoon. The latter says something that makes you laugh, and his stomach flips watching the way your eyes twinkle with mirth as you toss your head back, hair spilling over your shoulders.
You’re radiant. Stunning.
"She's happy," he finally croaks, but it comes out like he's physically straining to push out the words. "Leave it the fuck alone."
“Hey.”
You find Taehyung in the kitchen bright and early the next morning, already rummaging around and littering the counters with bowls and ingredients. The soft morning light drenches him in a golden glow, highlighting his honey skin, the slope of his nose, the long lines of his fingers as he works.
“Hey!” The smile he gives you is light and easy, the awkwardness between you having evaporated as easy as steam after your discussion last night. “Want to help me make breakfast?”
You jump in, immediately falling into rhythm with the way he maneuvers around the kitchen. God, you’ve missed this. It may have only been a few weeks, but cooking with Taehyung is one of your life’s greatest joys, and after missing two of your meal prep nights, it feels like a part of you has come home. There’s no doubt that you’re breathing a little easier today with the air cleared between you.
And honestly, how stupid to let a single comment from Maya drive a wedge between the two of you. You’ve known Taehyung practically your whole life. If he did have feelings for you, you would’ve figured it out by now.
Surely, he would’ve told you.
Lost in your thoughts, you don’t even notice that Taehyung is sneaking up on you until he’s already smeared a streak of waffle batter across your cheek.
“Augh, Tae!”
“What?” He quickly backpedals out of your reach, anticipating retaliation, but grinning widely. “You were clearly somewhere else. Had to bring you back to me somehow.”
A while later, as Taehyung sets out the platters of waffles, fruit, and eggs, you begin making the rounds to let everyone know that breakfast is ready. Sunny and her friends thank you from where they’re hanging out on the back deck and say that they’ll be in soon. Moving back into the hallway, you greet Hoseok and his brother, Jiho, as they pass you; Hoseok gives you an appreciative high five when you tell them about the food. Namjoon and Jimin have their door wide open, so you only need to poke your head in, Jimin immediately taking off down the hall at the mention of waffles.
When you get to Taehyung and Jungkook’s door, it’s closed, a series of muffled groans coming from inside. Unhesitating, you knock hard, and the groaning stops, followed by a curse and the sound of shuffling before Jungkook is opening the door halfway, blocking your view of the room. Clad in only a pair of gray joggers, a light sheen of sweat coats his bare chest, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Can I help you?”
“Tae and I made breakfast. You’re welcome to join.” You nod your chin at the area behind him. “Unless, you know, you have better things to do.”
Jungkook smirks, amused. “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”
He moves to close the door, but you manage to stick a foot out to block him.
“Maya, you too!”
There’s a moment of silence as you stand there, Jungkook looking as smug as ever, before a voice sounds from inside the room.
“Okay!”
It's a cloudless, sunny day so your group heads down to the beach after breakfast. Jungkook's beach house sits down the street, away from the center of town and tourist areas, which allows you a relatively private, uncrowded stretch of sand. The air is sticky with humidity, only mitigated by the breeze coming off the water. It's an oddly soothing combination of hot and cool that has you pulling in deep breaths of the salty air. You could stay out here forever.
"This is paradise," Hana says, verbalizing your own thoughts. "I wish I could live here."
You're sitting on your towel in the sand helping Maya sunscreen her back, but you don't miss the cocky grin on Jungkook's face.
"Well, pretty ladies like you are always welcome here."
Maya's shoulders tense up under your hands, and you're tempted to say something snarky in her defense before Sunny beats you there.
"Not my friends, Kook!"
Hana giggles, Jungkook feigns innocence, and you think that's that, stretching out on your towel to sunbathe. But an hour later, Taehyung is plopping down next to you in the sand.
"I need your help."
You slide your sunglasses to the top of your head so you can look at him better. "Sunny trying to set you up with someone again?"
He blushes. "No, Kook wants to have a chicken fight."
You push your glasses back down your face. "No."
Taehyung is quick, reaching over to pull the shades off your eyes entirely.
“Tae!”
“Look,” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Normally I’d blow him off, but he’s pairing up with Hana, and Maya actually seems kind of bothered.”
You peek over his shoulder to where Maya is now chatting with Jimin, throwing furtive glances at Jungkook and Hana flirting by the water’s edge.
“I know they’re not exclusive,” Taehyung continues, “but you have to admit Kook is being a bit of a dick, and I kind of want to show him up.”
You’re still hesitant, lips turning downwards, and so he presses closer, until all you can see are big brown eyes.
“Please? For me?”
The past two weeks creep into your mind, two weeks of intentionally avoiding him—hurting him—due to your own idiocy, and that’s when you cave. You owe him.
“Okay, fine.”
You follow Taehyung down to the shoreline, where Jungkook grins widely at your approach and claps his hands together.
"A challenger!"
You shake your head at his antics and move to tie your hair up and away from your face. "Do we have any stakes?"
Jungkook strikes a dramatic pose: calf-deep in water, hands on hips, six-pack abs already glistening as he pouts his lips in thought.
Then, with a snap of his fingers, he says, "Loser cooks dinner tomorrow."
Well, that's much tamer than you expected. "Just dinner? No, 'loser has to go skinny dipping' or anything like that?"
His mouth forms into a tiny "o", eyes wide with excitement. "Do you...want that?"
"No," you're quick to clarify. "It just doesn't seem like much of a punishment for us."
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I like your food."
"Okay, but what if we win?" Taehyung asks, nodding from your right.
The cocky grin is back. "You won't."
Seagulls circle above like curious spectators to your game as you get into position. Taehyung squats in the surf so you can scale his back, sliding your legs over his tanned shoulders. He wraps his arms and hands tightly around your knees to secure you as he walks deeper into the ocean until the water is up to his waist. Roughly ten feet across from you, Jungkook and Hana have assumed a similar stance, and you're not sure if it's the waves rolling in or if Jungkook is actively bouncing on his heels.
"Jimin, wanna count us off?" he shouts.
From his spot on the beach, you see Jimin cup his hands around his mouth.
"On your mark...get set...GO!"
The men charge at each other through the water until you and Hana collide, grappling at each other's arms. In spite of a tiny build, she's surprisingly strong and sturdy, and you already have to adjust yourself on top of Taehyung, who likewise rearranges his grip on your legs.
"You good?" he grunts from under you, and you assure him you're fine.
You change your tactic, moving to push at her shoulders and send her backwards, but Jungkook shifts his legs to keep the two of them balanced. This gives Hana the chance to bump you with an elbow, and Taehyung likewise has to tighten his hold on you again to keep you steady.
This back-and-forth goes on for a short while, your friends now cheering from the sidelines, until Jungkook pushes forward and Hana collides with you again. This time, Taehyung adjusts to the hit by sliding his hands upwards, his long fingers skating up the soft inner flesh of your thighs and digging in.
A flash of heat rushes straight to your belly.
The sensation forcefully jolts your entire body and sends both you and Taehyung tumbling into the water. You kick around trying to find your footing before he pulls you up, sopping wet and spluttering as Jungkook and Hana celebrate their victory with raised arms and whoops.
“Are you alright? What happened?”
Hell if you know. You’d swear you can still feel the pads of his fingers on your legs, and so you merely blink at him with a shake of your head.
A biological reaction, you tell yourself, as you wade your way back to dry land. Nothing more.
You will your body to get a grip as you settle back down on your towel. You love Jace, you’re taken, and you and Taehyung have just reestablished the platonic nature of your friendship. Letting his touch have that kind of effect on you is nothing short of wildly inappropriate on two counts.
Trying to shake the shame poking at your brain, you angle yourself towards the waves and snap a quick selfie to send off to your boyfriend.
You [2:05pm]: miss you so much, wish you were here <3
It’s not long before your phone chimes with a reply, and you open the message to see a picture of Jace taken at a similar angle. He stands in a sea of businessmen and conference booths, suit crisp and hair neatly combed. The smile he wears is bright, eyes crinkling in the way you love so much and setting of a flurry of butterflies in your belly.
J <3 [2:07pm]: i’d say i wish you were here but i wouldn’t wish this place on my worst enemy let alone my favorite girl lol
J <3 [2:07pm]: i miss you too, beautiful :(
By the time the sun starts its descent, you’ve all moved to the pool on the expansive back deck, Jungkook immediately hopping behind the outdoor bar to make drinks.
“You know,” you say from your perch atop one of the stools, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who can match your enthusiasm for your job.”
He smiles, rattling a cocktail shaker. “It gets me booze and ladies. What more could I ask for?”
Yumi soon joins you at the bar top to ask Jungkook for a margarita, and is quick to strike up a conversation with you. Unsurprisingly for one of Sunny’s friends, she’s incredibly nice, and you learn she works as a hairdresser in the city.
“I’ll have to check out your salon!” you say. “I’ve been meaning to get a trim.”
She claps her hands together eagerly. “If you want to give me your number, I can text you the address!”
As you’re putting your contact information into her phone, she looks at you thoughtfully and adds, “Not to sound like I have an ulterior motive, but Sunny also mentioned that you’re going to be getting married soon, too?”
Heat creeps into your cheeks. “Ah, yeah, nothing official yet. But, you know, it seems like it’s coming.”
“Exciting!” she declares. “Just figured I’d let you know that I do weddings, too, in that case. And I know we’ve just met, but I’d still give you the friends discount. Sunny’s friends are my friends, as far as I’m concerned.”
“That’s so sweet of you. I’ll definitely give you a call to talk about it once we’re actually planning.”
“That sounds gre—“
“Sorry to interrupt.” Taehyung wanders up to where you sit, handing you a plate of steaming beef and cucumber salad. “Hoseok and Jimin got the first round of meats done. I knew you’d want it hot.”
The moan you let out as you take the plate from him is downright scandalous. “Ugh, you’re the best.”
You’re rewarded with a light chuckle and a signature boxy grin. “I know.”
As he heads back to the grill and you dig into your food, Yumi lets out a dreamy sigh. “It’s no wonder he’s planning to put a ring on your finger. I wish someone would look at me like that.”
A piece of food lodges itself in your throat, and you cough hard. Yumi stares at you in alarm until you regain your breath and turn to her with wide eyes. “Tae and I aren’t together.”
She looks back and forth between the two of you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not?”
“No.” You shake your head emphatically. “We grew up together. My boyfriend is at a work event.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims. “I just noticed how close you were at the bar last night and how he’s always—“ She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. “Nevermind. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
You assure her it’s fine, and she changes the subject, asking how you know the others and what college was like. Your chat carries on for a while longer before you excuse yourself to use the bathroom.
You don’t even make it halfway across the deck, though, before a tattooed arm is snaking across your waist, lifting you off your feet, and carrying you in the direction of the pool.
“Jeon Jungkook, don’t you fucking dare!” you screech, trying to wiggle yourself out of his grip to no avail.
All you hear behind you is a maniacal giggle before you’re tossed through the air and land in the water with a splash.
When you come up to the surface, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes, you find Jungkook cackling by the pool’s edge. You glare at him.
“Asshole!”
“C’mon, Y/N! It’s a tradition!” he laughs. “It’s not a beach house trip without—“ But he doesn’t get to finish that thought before Taehyung shoulders him hard in the back, propelling him into the water next to you.
You only give Jungkook a second to get his bearings before you’re hopping onto his back and trying to play wrestle him back under the water to the laughter of your friends. It’s hopeless really—Jungkook is basically a mountain of hard muscle that barely budges under your touch—but a few minutes of scrambling all over him with determination, and he eventually concedes and humors you by allowing you to dunk him below the surface.
It’s later, once you’ve clambered out of the pool and are toweling off on the deck when you hear him talking to Jiho behind you.
“He got you good. You didn’t even hear him coming, did you?” There’s a shuffle and a “Pow!” like Jiho is reenacting Taehyung’s takedown.
“Ah, it’s alright,” Jungkook laughs, no hint of a grudge in his voice. “I messed with his girl.”
Your party stretches on into the night until the sky has turned inky black, peppered with stars that shine intensely this far removed from the city. Almost ironically, your group has mellowed out as the alcohol has flowed, settling into smaller groups scattered around the deck. Namjoon sits with Hoseok and Jiho, clearly getting philosophical around the fire pit. Sunny is gathered to the side with her friends as they sloppily braid each other’s hair, the occasional burst of laughter coming from their general vicinity. Jimin lays on his back at the side of the pool, drunkenly tracing constellations with his finger. And Maya and Jungkook are nowhere to be found.
There’s a sense of peace that flows through your veins as you watch your friends smile and talk while you grab yourself a beer from the poolside bar. You’ve always loved coming here. Sure, getting a free stay at a waterfront mansion is nothing you’d ever say no to, but it’s really getting to spend quality time with your friends—away from all of your real world responsibilities—that makes this place feel almost magical.
You look out to the shoreline and spot a figure sitting alone on the beach, staring out at the waves. You’d been thinking about joining Namjoon’s group by the fire, but that plan is immediately pushed out of mind as you grab a second bottle and make your way towards the sea.
You’re not loud in your stroll, the soft sand muting your steps, but Taehyung seems to sense your approach anyway, not startling a bit as you seat yourself next to him and hand him a beer.
“Contemplating the wonders of the universe?” you ask. From this angle, he looks almost like he did in Maya’s photograph of him—the same constellations in his eyes.
Taehyung stretches his legs out with a sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Where do you think we’ll be this time next year?”
You sip at your drink. Honestly, you can’t imagine things being all that different.
“Right back here?” you say. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of coming here. This is my ultimate happy place.”
Taehyung hums in agreement. “It could be your pre-wedding party we’ll be having next year.”
“You think?”
His brow furrows at your doubt. “I’d expect you’d at least be planning then, no? Or you could already be married by then if you guys want to move fast.”
The thought sends jitters running down your spine. “Who knows?” you challenge. “Maybe you’ll be the one married. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate tomorrow and elope because you know it’s fate, and there’s no point in waiting.”
Taehyung barks out a laugh. “That sounds somewhat out-of-character, no?”
“Hmm, true. You’re more of a wait five years to move in and another five years to propose kind of guy. Work on your credit score and establish a detailed financial plan before even thinking about merging assets. And don’t even get me started on the background check.”
“Geez, Y/N. Does Jace know you just casually talk dirty to other guys like this?”
You playfully shove at his shoulder, and the pink of his tongue pokes through his teeth as he laughs.
“Oh, wow, look.”
Taehyung points a delicate finger as a tiny flash blazes through the sky, trailing light and stardust in its wake. He turns to you, smiling.
“Make a wish?”
The words come out on a whisper like a secret meant just for the two of you.
As you sit there, gazing out at the shadowy horizon in the distance, you feel perfectly content. What do you wish for when you feel like you already have the world? Work has been going great, and after almost a year of unpacking boxes and rearranging furniture, you feel like you and Jace are finally settled in and cozy at your apartment. You think about Jace—his smile, the soothing feel of his hands on your skin, the little black box in his desk—and contemplate all of the joy you can sense coming your way.
And then you consider the man beside you.
His eyes are closed as he meditates on his own wish, his legs now drawn up so he can rest his forearms on his knees. It flashes you back to when you were kids, lounging away the hours in your room or hanging at your favorite spots around town—the park, the library, the ice cream shop where Mrs. Kang would often take pity and treat the two of you to free cones. When you were young, Taehyung almost always sat like this, knees to his chest as if he was trying to make himself smaller. As if he could make himself invisible to the shadows that followed him every second of each day.
Taehyung’s always been a positive person, steadfastly determined to not let his demons poison his perspective of the world. Though neither of you were fond of explicitly discussing your situations, Taehyung always maintained a bright outlook on the rare occasions when your frustrations would spill over. There’s still the family we can choose, he’d tell you. We’ll find them one day.
Still, though, you could always sense a certain anxiety lingering under the mask of his smile. It showed itself in the way he’d sit with his arms around his knees, in the way his forehead would crease during the moments when you’d catch him lost in thought. This had eased up in college, the change in scenery and your newfound friends loosening his bones and laugh lines. But since graduation, you’ve seen some of that tension return to his shoulders like he’s carrying extra weight, especially in the past year.
You consider the man beside you, and you think, then, that he deserves the world, too.
I wish for Taehyung to have everything he wants. You squeeze your eyes shut, casting the thought out to the universe with everything you have. Every last desire of his heart. He deserves it all.
No one in the world would be more deserving. Of that, you’re sure.
When you open your eyes again, he’s watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.
“What did you wish for?” is all you can think to ask, blinking at him.
“Well if I tell you, then it won’t come true.”
You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a teasing scoff. He smiles.
“Happiness,” he declares. “If I had to put it simply.”
You smile back at him, hoping those stars stay in his eyes. “Yeah, me too.”
He’ll find it. You know he will.
It's Sunday morning when shit hits the fan.
After Saturday passes with ease, another lazy day by the pool punctuated with you and Taehyung collaborating on a fried chicken dinner as per your bet with Jungkook, you wake up on Sunday to the sound of Iseul's squeals over there being no hot water, a fact which is soon confirmed after the men team up to check the heater. Jungkook calls his family handyman (apparently those come standard when you have more houses than you can count on one hand), but the man is quick to inform him that he's getting ready for his granddaughter's birthday party and won't be able to come out until tomorrow.
"There's no way I'm making it through the day without a hot shower," Maya grumbles.
Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows. "I can show you a hot shower.”
She doesn't even look at him.
You're also not enthused about the prospect of having to either take a cold shower or skip one entirely. So when Maya suggests going home a day early, you're already leaning towards the idea as well.
"It won't be that bad," Taehyung says, lips turning down in a tiny pout when you tell him. "The key is to just go fast."
"I'd rather not have to do it at all." You giggle as his pout deepens. "We're going to stay until the evening. It's only like a twelve hour difference."
"But I thought we were going to do a movie night."
Okay, now you feel bad.
"Temporary reschedule?" you suggest, poking at his bottom lip. "Jace and I are going to dinner on Saturday, but my Friday night is free."
A hand rubs at his chin as he pretends to make a show out of pondering your offer. "Deal."
Later, you're sitting on a chaise lounge on the back deck, soaking up your last few hours of sun with one of Jungkook's signature cocktails in your hand when Maya sighs deeply beside you in a similar show of disappointment.
"It really is a shame though," she laments. "Tonight was supposed to be our big send-off, and now I cleared my schedule tomorrow for nothing."
"We could do a girls night?" you say. "I have this new cab sav I found the other week that we could split."
"Ooh, twist my arm."
Plans made, you pull out your phone. Jace has been texting you on and off from his conference all weekend—just brief check-ins and I miss yous—so you shoot him a quick message now.
You [4:53pm]: the water heater here is busted so i'll be home early tonight. maya is going to come too, might stay over. can't wait to see you <3
The sky is a misty orange when you pack the car and say goodbye to your friends, Taehyung giving you a particularly tight hug. Things were great between you for the rest of the weekend, but you can feel the tension of your conversation lingering in the way he holds you that extra second.
You check your phone as Maya settles into the passenger seat and buckles her seat belt. There's still been no word from Jace. It's not particularly unusual for him to forget to answer his phone—especially since you expect he's busy wrapping up the conference—but a seed of worry still plants itself in the back of your brain. You hope everything is alright.
The ride is mostly quiet, you and Maya occasionally singing along to a song on the radio as the evening gradually turns to night. But about halfway back home, you feel the need to straighten things out.
“So I talked to Tae.”
She’s quiet for a second, her face shrouded in shadow. “Uh-huh.”
“He said he doesn’t have feelings for me.”
Maya shifts in her seat, angling herself towards you ever so slightly. “And you believe him?”
“Yes. Definitely.” There’s no doubt in your mind. “He’s never given me a reason not to.”
Silence stretches itself between you, Maya entirely unreadable as she seems to be puzzling something out in her head.
“Okay.”
It comes as a surprise, and you jerk your eyes away from the road to glance over at her. “Okay?”
Maya shrugs. “Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Do you want there to be more?”
You work your mouth in a stunned gape. Because she’s right; why are you pushing this?
“No. We’re good.”
When you get to your apartment, you swipe you and Maya into the building and head towards the elevators. You’re a little bummed that your time at the beach house had to be cut short, but you take solace in the fact that you get some time back with Jace.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Maya asks on the ride up.
You grin. “We could play that Twilight drinking game I sent you.”
“Pfft, I know I said I have tomorrow off, but I meant I could handle a mild hangover, not alcohol poisoning.”
You fumble for your key at your apartment door, sliding it into the lock and pushing the door open. The first thing you notice is that the lights are on, so Jace must be home.
“Babe?” you call, as you and Maya dump your bags by the couch.
“Where’s that cab sav?” You nod in the direction of the kitchen, and Maya skips over to investigate.
A moan sounds through the apartment.
You and Maya both freeze, staring at each other. Goosebumps break out over your entire body, a frightening sense of impending doom slamming itself down on your consciousness.
A second moan, and now you notice the lights on under the closed door of your bedroom. There was no sign of forced entry, but the image of a wounded and bleeding Jace pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.
You rush to the bedroom door, fearing the worse.
“Jace?”
You swing it open.
And your entire world collapses.
Taehyung can’t quite shake the feeling that you’re slipping through his fingers.
Movie night had been his idea, a way to get you in one spot (and mostly to himself, if he’s being honest) after your two weeks of silence. Now knowing the reason behind your push for space, he doesn’t blame you at all. Maya throwing that wrench into your relationship was surely unsettling, and he understands wanting time alone. But he’s missed you; he’s not going to deny that. And he’s desperate to prove that things can be okay between you. Things can be normal.
But the universe, it seems, is stacked against him.
He’s ambling through the house, wondering if Jimin might be up for a game of ping pong in the downstairs game room, when his phone blares in his pocket. It’s a jarring sound, violent in the way it disrupts the calmness of the house, and Taehyung frowns when he sees Maya’s name on the screen.
Maya never calls.
“Hello?”
“Tae, oh thank God.” Her voice is high and tight—clearly in distress. “You need to come to Y/N’s apartment as soon as physically possible. Grab Jimin and Kook if you need to drive them back—whatever. But just—as soon as possible.”
“Wait, wait, slow down,” he urges, hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck. “What’s going on? Is everyone okay? Is Y/N okay?”
“We got back to the apartment, and Jace he…”
Time seems to slow in anticipation of Maya’s next words—the kind of eerie stillness that precedes a storm, quiet and disarming in its disguise.
And then she drops the bomb.
“He was with someone else.”
Taehyung’s ears ring. There is no possible way he heard that right. “What?”
The breath that comes from the other side of the phone is heavy, like Maya can’t even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. “He was in bed with someone else.”
A chill drips down his spine, pushing its way through his veins until his entire body runs cold. This can’t be happening. Not to you. You’ve had enough pain and hardship in your twenty-five years of life—he’s seen it, weathered it with you. Things are supposed to be getting better; this is supposed to be the payout for years of heartache. Surely, the universe wouldn’t be so cruel.
But then it happens. A single, anguished sob rings out in the background of the call, sharp and pained in its grief.
His heart shatters, shards piercing the spaces between his ribs.
“Tae? Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“She needs you. Please just get over here.”
Then line goes dead.
Taehyung is only frozen for a second longer before he’s bounding into motion, tearing down the hallway and into the living room where Jimin lays on his back on the couch. The latter shoots into a sitting position when he sees the look on Taehyung’s face.
“You okay?”
“Y/N—she—we—“ His mouth feels like it’s filled with sand, and while he stands there, working his jaw in agonizing frustration, Jimin leaps to his feet to close the distance between them, grasping Taehyung’s shoulders.
“What’s wrong? What happened to Y/N?”
His lungs burn as he finally finds the words. “Jace is cheating on her.”
Jimin goes still, the same stunned shock registering in his body.
“We need to—we need to go,” Taehyung gasps, and Jimin is quick to sit him on the couch.
“I’ll get Kook. We’ll take care of this,” he says, voice steady. Commanding. “You just wait here and breathe.”
The next several minutes are a blur as Jimin rushes to get Jungkook, and they work on packing the car, briefly explaining the situation to the others. Taehyung can’t think of anything but you, his focus reduced down to a pinpoint in his mind. You must be devastated. In spite of what he had said about his own feelings on Jace, he knows how much you love him, how you were expecting to spend the rest of your life with him. How must you be feeling to have an entire future ripped away? To have to bear witness to and suffer that kind of betrayal?
He’s not quite sure how it happens, but he winds up in the passenger seat of his own car, Jimin sliding behind the wheel and peeling away from the house and onto the highway. The air inside the cabin is thick, a stifling combination of premature summer heat and heavy silence, with even Jungkook sitting oddly quiet in the backseat. Taehyung is thankful for the absence of conversation; he doesn’t think he can handle talking about any of this until you’re in front of him and he can hold you, feel that you’re safe.
He realizes somewhere along the way that he’s shaking, your cry still ringing in his ears.
The trip from the beach house to the city only takes about forty-five minutes, but it feels like days, headlights and street lamps zipping by like tiny suns as Taehyung wills the car to go faster, faster, faster. He’s never felt further from you before, never been so determined to close the distance between you like he is now.
Whatever you need from him, he’ll give it.
Jimin finally pulls into your apartment parking lot, and the car hasn't even fully stopped before Taehyung is bolting out at a near sprint. Jungkook and Jimin catch up to him as he pulls out the duplicate access card you had given him in case of emergencies, swiping them into the entryway and down the hall where he pounds the button for the elevators.
"It'll be okay," Jimin says, staring Taehyung down where he seems to be vibrating in his shoes. "She'll be okay."
"She'd better be," Jungkook mutters, fists clenched tight.
(Jimin hopes Jace has long cleared out of the building, lest they run into him.)
The elevator ride is tense and slow, the numbers ticking upwards in time with the pounding in Taehyung's ears.
2...
The bastard was sleeping with someone else.
3...
You thought you were going to marry him.
4...
He'd spent time with Jace all through college. Even laughed with him at times.
5...
The sound you'd made on the phone, like you were physically wounded.
6...
If he ever sees that piece of shit again—
7.
The doors open with a ding that snaps the mess of Taehyung's thoughts into focus.
He's here. You need him.
It's a brisk walk to the end of the hallway, and then he's practically punching your apartment door, which swings open almost immediately as if Maya was waiting on the other side. She and Taehyung stare at each other for a brief moment, her mouth stretched into a tight line before she simply nods her head in the direction of the bathroom. Taehyung makes the final leg of the trip in five long strides before freezing in the doorway.
The fractured shards of his heart turn to dust.
You're curled up on the bathroom floor, a tangle of arms and hair covering your face as your body trembles with quiet sobs. They echo around the tile, filling the space between you until Taehyung thinks he can feel the sound burrowing itself under his skin, a morbid tattoo he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to erase. This image, he thinks, will surely haunt him for the rest of his life.
You. Completely and utterly broken.
He falls to his knees so he can brush your hair aside, the strands draping themselves over his fingers like a tether. Your face is red and stained with tears, and he reflexively wipes at the ones he sees rolling down your cheeks as you peer up at him, only now registering his presence.
"T-tae?"
"I'm here," he murmurs as his hands continue collect your tears, trying to carry them for you.
When you hear his voice, your cries start up again in earnest, and you reach out to clutch at his shirt. Taehyung immediately gathers you into his arms and tucks you into the haven of his chest, holding you like if he squeezes hard enough, he can press your broken pieces back together.
"T-tae...h-he..." you gasp at his collarbone, words failing you as Taehyung hugs you to him even tighter.
He runs his hands through your hair, presses kisses to the crown of your head, trails his fingers up the length of your back as you burrow into him, wails escalating.
"Shh, I've got you, baby."
He does. He'll hold you forever if he has to.
"I've got you."
NEXT
a/n: thoughts? guesses as to what taehyung used his wish on? likes, reblogs, and feedback give me life :)
taglist is open!
a/n 2: oh, fun fact. when jace caught oc going through his desk in part 1, he wasn’t even thinking about the ring box when his eyes flicked to the drawer. he was worried she was going to find the condoms, which would’ve been weird since they hadn’t used them in like two years (oof) (this isn’t plot relevant, just a detail tidbit lol)
#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#taehyung imagines#taehyung fic#taehyung fanfic#bts fluff#bts angst#taehyung#bts fic#bts fanfic
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Movie Night
Pairing: Vinny Mauro x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving)
Word Count: 3.1k
Vinny and the reader can't decide what movie to watch. Smut.
Vinny is a cuddly sub and no one can convince me otherwise.
It was late evening. Vinny was live on Twitch, drumming for his fans and having fun. Sometimes, you’d get on Twitch in the other room just to watch. You loved seeing him interact with his fans. He had such love and gratitude for them. Plus, he was funny, and he was always joking around with them. He was a loveable goof. You adored him more than you could put into words.
Tonight, you were once again watching his stream on your phone. Giggling at all his cute shenanigans. You were particularly moved by a sweet moment he had with a fan. They had told Vinny a personal story and he had the sweetest reply. He had also promised to give them a big hug at a meet and greet they were planning on attending. You were excited for them. Vinny gave the best hugs. He always held on tight and for a long time, ensuring the other person felt the love he was radiating.
You sat your phone to the side and listened as you folded laundry. He was wrapping up, you could tell. You heard him say his final goodbyes before the stream ended. You exited out of Twitch and got back to the task at hand. A few moments later, the bedroom door opened and there he stood.
“Hey babe, folding laundry?” he asked.
“Yeah, wanna give me a hand?”
“Of course,” he replied, making his way over, sitting on the bed beside you.
He picked up a pair of socks and got to work, “So the stream went well tonight. Did you see it?”
“I did,” you began, “Well, I watched most of it, anyway. I think I missed the beginning.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s fine. Had some technical difficulties at the start, so you didn’t really miss much.”
“Oh, what happened?” you inquired.
“I’m still not really sure, but somehow, I fixed it. Did you like what you saw?”
You folded a shirt and replied, “Of course, I always do. You know I love watching your streams.”
He smiled, “Yeah, well, I always try extra hard to put on a good show when I know you’re watching.”
“Well, don’t I feel special,” you joked.
He chuckled, “So, what do you wanna do tonight? Watch a movie? Play a game? What sounds good?”
You thought for a moment, “I’m not sure. What sounds good to you?”
“Hmm. Well, since we’re already in here, wanna just cuddle in bed and watch a movie?”
“Sure, that sounds great. Although, it always takes us like an hour or more to pick one,” you laughed.
He reciprocated your laugh, “That’s true. Well, we can still cuddle while we scroll through Netflix.”
“Yes, we can,” you smiled sweetly at him.
He smiled back. His smiles always made you feel warm and fuzzy. He was so cute and affectionate. You’d never known another man like him. You felt as though you were constantly having to pry yourself out of his grip. This man loved to touch you. He was a cuddler, through and through. Most of the time, you didn’t mind. You loved being held by him.
The two of you finished folding the laundry and chatted while you put the clothes away. Nothing too serious. Mostly just talking about Twitch and Motionless stuff. You finished your chores and made your way back over to the bed. You climbed up and took your normal spot, Vinny close behind. He grabbed the remote from the bedside table and turned on the TV. you cuddled up close to him, resting your head on his chest, while he wrapped an arm around you.
Vinny began scrolling through the movie titles, listing some off that might seem interesting. You weren’t really paying much attention, however. You were too busy being lulled by the feeling of his body beneath you, the smell of his clothes, everything about him. You’d think you would be used to the effect he had on you by now, but it still got you everytime. You softly rubbed your hand across his chest, content to lie here with him the rest of the night. You were more than happy to just stay like this. No movie, no nothing, just him. You didn’t care what he picked.
“Or, what about this one? This one seems pretty cool, right? Oh wait, I just read the synopsis, and it actually seems kinda dumb. Shit. Sorry, babe, I promise we’ll find something,” he said.
You closed your eyes, feeling the vibrations in his chest against your cheek when he spoke, “It’s fine, baby. Whatever you wanna watch is fine with me.”
“Yeah, but I wanna find something good that we’ll both like. There’s too many choices. It’s impossible to pick something.”
You sighed contentedly. You couldn’t care less what he picked, as long as you could stay like this. You listened to him rattle off different options, giving feedback on films he’d already seen or what he thought they might be about. You felt even more relaxed and comfortable the more he spoke.
“So, this one’s not that great, but it has Keanu Reeves in it, so that’s cool, right?” he asked, desperate to find something worth watching.
“Whatever you want, baby. I’m fine with anything.”
“Hmm. I don’t think I want that one, either. Fuck. Why is it so hard to pick something?”
You listened to him continue, still rubbing your hand on his chest. Without even being aware, your hand started to slide lower until you were lightly rubbing his stomach. You suddenly became aware of your hand placement and remembered that his happy trail was right below the part of his shirt that you were touching. You instantly became more alert. You loved the hair on his lower stomach. You loved touching it, so that’s what you did.
You slowly slid your hand under his shirt and began lightly grazing your fingertips across his abdomen, feeling the soft hair. He didn’t seem too fazed by it, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. You barely processed what he was saying as he continued listing movies. You were now far more interested in touching him than any film.
You continued rubbing your hand up and down beneath his shirt, across his stomach and chest, wanting to feel as much of him as you could. He still didn’t seem to notice. You would make him notice. You lowered your hand until it was at the waist of his jeans. Slowly, you began to undo the button and slide the zipper down.
He chuckled, “You want something, baby?”
“Do you?” you asked back.
He shifted a bit beneath you. You thought you had begun to have an effect on him.
“Maybe…” he teased, “What did you have in mind?”
You leaned upward, meeting his face with your own, “I’ll show you what I want.”
You barely had time to acknowledge that his eyes grew wide before your lips were on his. You wasted no time in giving this man a long, sensual kiss, which he greatly returned. You felt his hand slide down to your behind, giving it a light squeeze as the two of you continued kissing. Long, languid, passionate kissing. You felt your head swim from the contact. The way this man kissed you always made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You couldn’t get enough of it. Normally, anyway. This time, you had other plans.
You leaned your head over and kissed his neck. Sucking gently, knowing his sweet spots and making him sigh. He squeezed your ass a bit harder. Your hand once again found its way to his pants and you slid your hand underneath the material of his jeans. You continued kissing his neck the way you knew he loved as your hand began to slowly rub his cock over his underwear. You heard him inhale sharply at the newfound contact. This went on for a moment, as you felt his cock growing harder beneath your hand. You took this as your cue to dip your hand below his briefs and rub his cock for real.
“Shit, babe,” he sighed.
You grabbed his cock in your hand and squeezed lightly, drawing a soft moan from him. You did this a few times, enjoying the feeling of him, hard and in your hand. You loved having Vinny in this position. It was safe to say that you were typically the more dominant one in your sexual relationship, though Vinny could take charge when he felt like it. He just enjoyed the feeling of being completely at your mercy, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to him. He got off on it.
You slid his pants down slightly. Enough to free his cock from its confines. It sprang upward, fully erect and dripping precum. You finally detached yourself from his neck and brought your face back to meet his. You leaned over him, looking down at his expression. His eyes were a little glossy, eyelids drooping slightly. His lips were parted and he was breathing a bit more heavily. You took in the sight of him. He was so sexy like this. You couldn’t resist giving him one last, slow, deep kiss. You pulled away and flashed him a sweet smile.
He returned it, “I love you, babe.”
You grinned once more, “I love you, too.”
Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his cock and squeezed it fully. Vinny’s eyelids fluttered shut and he let out a soft groan. You watched his expression as you slowly began to pump your hand up and down. He was in heaven, and you were too just from watching. You leaned in and kissed him again, sliding your tongue in his mouth as you continued pleasuring him with your hand. You swallowed his moans as you ran your tongue across his. Your hand quickened its pace as you gently bit his bottom lip, causing him to moan a bit louder. You were being slow with him. Deliberate. Teasing, almost, and he loved every second of it.
You wanted more from him, and you knew what you had to do to get it. You shifted on the bed, your face now level with his hard cock. He opened his eyes and glanced down at you, a flash of excitement in his gaze as he realized what was coming next.
You glanced up at him, watching his face contort as you lightly licked the precum off the head of his dick. You held out your tongue, letting him see the fluid resting on it.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. You gripped the base of his cock firmly and took the head into your mouth, sucking gently, still teasing him.
Vinny tossed his head back against the pillow, “Damn, baby.”
You smiled around his cock, still sucking. You began to pump your hand slowly up and down his shaft as you sucked harder, still only entertaining his tip with your mouth. You knew it would drive him crazy. Good. This is what you wanted. You were in control, and he knew it. He didn’t dare try to tell you what to do.
Slowly, you began lowering your head and taking more of him into your mouth. Vinny’s moans grew louder and more frequent as you worked him. He loved getting head from you. You were so good at it and he was putty in your hands, well, mouth, every time you did it. You felt him begin to buck his hips upward into your mouth, unable to control himself. You took your free hand and pushed down on his stomach, stopping his movements.
“Oh my god, babe…” he sighed, eyes shut.
You laughed around his cock and the vibration made him shudder. You took this as your cue to start moaning around his length. He went wild when you did that.
“Oh! Fuck, sweetheart. God, that feels so fucking good. You’re so good, baby…”
You sucked harder and faster, your hand keeping rhythm with your mouth. You traced your tongue along his tip as you sucked and moaned, determined to give this man pleasure. You felt him tense up and you knew he was close, but you weren’t finished with him yet.
You took your mouth off his cock and looked up at him. It took him a moment to collect himself and realize that you had stopped, although your hand still softly pumped him.
“Mmm. Please, baby,” he whined.
“So polite,” you giggled, “Do you think you deserve to cum?”
He moaned as you squeezed him hard in your hand, “Yes…”
“Yeah? You think you’ve been good enough for me?”
“Yes…” he began, “Yes, baby. Please.”
You were riding a high watching this man fully submit to you, like he had many times before. It never got old. You could watch this man writhe and moan and beg for hours. Sometimes, you had. You wouldn’t torture him too long, this evening. You were desperate to see him cum. You just knew that if you had a little fun with him first, he would cum even harder.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” you cooed softly.
He groaned as your hand quickened once again, “I want you to make me cum.”
“Yeah? You wanna cum?
“Yes. Fuck…”
You dipped your tongue out and licked his tip yet again, feeling him shiver beneath you. You giggled, loving the reaction you got. You gripped his cock as hard as you could and moved it vigorously, causing him to moan loudly.
“Where do you wanna cum, baby?” you asked.
Vinny groaned and said, “Your mouth… I wanna cum in your mouth, baby.”
“Yeah? You want me to swallow your cum, sweetheart?”
“Fuck yes,” he hissed as your hand continued to stroke him.
“Beg for it,” you demanded.
You licked him once more as he writhed beneath you, “Oh, shit. Please, baby. Please make me cum. Mmm. Need to cum so bad…”
You smiled, “That’s my good boy.”
Wasting no time, you took him back into your mouth and sucked hard. Vinny cried out, grabbing your hair with both hands. He didn’t dare try to move your head though. He knew you would stop if he did. He was just latching on, desperate for something to cling to. You sucked and moaned as he whimpered, you knew he was getting close. You squeezed the base of his cock with your hand and lowered your head down so your lips met them. There wasn’t an inch of Vinny’s cock that wasn’t attended to.
“Oh, fuck, babe. Holy shit…” he whined, head still tossed back as far as it could go.
You moved your hand and took his full length into your mouth, feeling the tip hit the back of your throat. He involuntarily jerked his hips at the sensation. You moved your head quickly, bobbing and sucking and moaning. You were desperate to taste his cum, and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer until you did.
You moaned wantonly around his cock, trying to sound as slutty as possible. Your moans drove him crazy, even if they were muffled by his cock. Especially when they were muffled by his cock. His grip in your hair tightened so hard you thought he might pull some out.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. I’m so fucking close,” his moans sounded more desperate, bordering on pathetic, which you loved.
You gave everything you had. Sucking him like your life depended on it. You moaned loudly around his cock and suddenly you felt Vinny’s cum shooting into your mouth, and down your throat.
“Oh! Oh, fuck. Shit,” he cried as his orgasm hit.
You continued sucking, ensuring that you pleasured him through his orgasm. You could taste him on your tongue and it turned you on. You loved when he came in your mouth. Mostly because of the way whined when he did, but you couldn’t deny you also loved the taste of him.
You felt his grip on your hair loosen as you slowed your movements. He was finished. You sucked one last time as you slowly slid your mouth off his cock. His semen still filling your mouth. You looked up at him just as he was opening his eyes to glance back at you. You gave a devilish smirk then opened your mouth, allowing him to see his cum on your tongue.
“Fuck, that’s hot, baby,” he groaned.
You swallowed his cum and opened your mouth again, showing him that you had taken it all. He grinned at the sight and reached out a hand for you.
“Come here, babe.”
You gladly slid back up and ino the position you were prior to your actions, resting your head on his chest once more. You enjoyed the feeling of his chest rising and falling raggedly, still trying to catch his breath from what you had done to him. He shakily put himself back into his pants and closed them up. You returned to lightly rubbing his chest with your hand, listening to his heart pounding beneath you.
Vinny, once again, wrapped an arm around you, resting his hand on the small of your back, “Shit. I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you, baby.”
You smiled as he kissed the top of your head, “You’re welcome.”
The two of you lay silent for a moment, both of you waiting for Vinny to collect himself. He rubbed softly at your lower back, sighing deeply.
“Fuck. I can’t even remember what we were doing before this,” he breathed out.
You laughed, “You were trying to find us a movie to watch, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks for distracting me,” he teased.
You laughed again, “No problem.”
“Well, there is a problem,” he began, “We still don’t have a movie to watch.”
“Vin, you can literally put on anything, I don’t care.”
“That doesn’t help me pick something!” he responded.
You grabbed the remote from beside him, “Okay, fine. I’ll pick something.”
“Wait, why do you get to pick? Shouldn’t we both get a say?” he asked.
“Babe, I just let you cum in my mouth, I think I’ve earned the right to pick the movie.”
He laughed, “Okay, that’s fair, but after the movie, I’m making you cum and then I get to pick the movie.”
You returned his laugh, “Okay, deal.”
You scrolled for awhile before Vinny rolled over on top of you.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“I’m impatient. I wanna make you cum, now,” he answered, “We can both pick something when I’m done.”
You smiled as he began to undo your jeans, “Okay, that’s fair.”
#vinny mauro#vinny mauro fic#vinny mauro fanfic#vinny mauro x reader#motionless in white#miw#motionless in white fic#motionless in white fanfic#miw fic#miw fanfic
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We'll Be Alright - Chapter Six
Masterlist
Your POV
I’ve just flopped onto the bed after arriving back from the stadium when I hear a knock at my door. I groan but get up to answer it. I find Louis, Zayn and Harry all standing there.
“Uh, hi boys. Everything okay?” I question.
“Can we have a quick chat?” Louis asks.
I nod and let them in, the three of them sit side by side on my bed. Leaving me standing in front feeling like a contestant standing in front of a panel of judges.
“So, before we start, we want to preface by saying we think you’re absolutely lovely.” Harry begins, “You’re very talented and we’re honoured to have you on our tour.”
Zayn continues, “We’ve just noticed a few things, and we wanted to address them.”
I nod, Louis sighs, “We believe that Liam and Niall both have feelings for you. And we’re worried about it ruining not only our friendship, but the band as well.”
“Oh.” Is all I can respond.
“We wanted to see where your heads at?” Harry asks.
I’m ready to slam my head into a wall at this point, “I- I don’t know.” I admit.
“Liam?” Zayn asks.
“Yes.”
“Niall?” Harry asks.
“Also yes.” I bury my head in my hands, embarrassed.
“You like both of them?” Louis clarifies.
I look back at him and nod sadly, “It’s still new, I just wanted to see where things would go. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The boys seem lost in thought, so I take the chance to ask them a question, “Do either of them know about eachother’s feelings? Or do they know that you know how they feel?”
“Liam had a talk with me about it last night.” Zayn admits, “I don’t think he realises the extent of Niall’s feelings though.”
“Niall and I spoke today.” Louis adds, “He’s definitely smitten and doesn’t suspect a thing about Liam. We just need to work out how to best handle this so it doesn’t end badly.”
Louis has always been seen as the rebellious one, the cheeky one that makes jokes and plays pranks while Liam plays Daddy Direction. But seeing this other side of Louis and the love he has for his friends is endearing.
“I could just end it now… rip the bandaid off. It’ll hurt all three of us, but prevents prolonging it.” I sigh.
Harry shakes his head, “Let’s make that our last resort. As I said earlier, we like you. And if there’s a possibility that you could make one of the boys happy, I think it’s a chance worth taking.”
Louis nods, “Their happiness is our priority. I think we need clear communication and ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” I ask.
“Yeah. No sneaking around, be honest with each other… and you have to make it a fair fight, if you go on a date with Liam for example, then you’d need to go on a date with Niall.”
“I guess… so, um, how are we doing this? Big group meeting? Or should I speak to them one on one?” I ask.
“They’ll take it best from you.” Zayn says.
“We have a day break between this show and the next. Tell them then.” Louis advises.
I nod, “Sounds like a plan.”
Louis gets up and the other two follow, “We’ll let you relax before the show. If you need anything you know where to find us.” He smiles.
Harry gives my shoulder a squeeze and Zayn smiles sadly as they leave. I flop back onto the bed and close my eyes. My mind racing with what to do, and if I’m doing the right thing. I feel myself beginning to doze off when there’s another knock.
I grumble as I get up and swing open the door. My whinging stops when I see Liam standing there with his hands full. He has a bouquet of flowers tucked under his arm, a tray with two coffees in one hand and an array of brown paper bags in the other.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course!” I usher him inside.
He places the coffees and pastries on the bedside table and hands me the small bouquet, “These are for you.” He smiles shyly.
I take in the sweet aroma from them, “Aw, thank you Liam! What’s all this for?” I question, gesturing to all the goodies.
“Two reasons. Congratulations on, well, everything that’s happened in the past few days. And I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier.”
I place the flowers on the desk in the corner and wrap him in a hug, “You don’t have to apologise, and I’m the one that should be thanking you! You’re the reason I have this opportunity.” I lean back to smile at him.
I feel like he wants to say more but stops himself, “Shall we? I didn’t know if you eaten much today so I got a few things.”
We make ourselves cozy on the bed, I turn the TV on to Friends so we have something to watch while we enjoy our snacks. He’s gotten an assortment of savoury and sweet South American pastries they we indulge in.
A content feeling floods through me, full of pastries and comforted by Liam’s presence beside me. I feel myself begin to nod off again, exhausted from lack of sleep and the business of the last two days.
I feel Liam moving to go beside me, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
I reach out for him, “Stay. Please.”
He nods, relaxing back onto the bed. I move closer so my head is on his chest and his arm instinctively wraps around me. He begins slowly stroking my back and humming softly. With his free hand he intertwines our fingers.
“Goodnight, love.” He whispers as I drift to sleep.
Next chapter
…
Author’s note: It’s been one month without our beautiful Liam, I miss him everyday❤️ Thank you for all the support so far, if you have any comments or feedback you’re welcome to add them☺️
#liam payne fanfiction#liam payne x reader#liam payne x y/n#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan x reader#niall horan x y/n#one direction x reader#one direction x y/n#we'll be alright fanfic
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greg hirsch with ❛ do you enjoy playing with people’s hearts? ❜ please? <3
here's some quick fun Greg fluff. perfect prompt for him. I hope you enjoy!
Greg Hirsch x Reader
prompt: do you enjoy playing with people's hearts?
Mornings were hectic at your apartment. Greg usually overslept, and relied on you to pound on his door to wake him up. Meanwhile you had already made coffee and were waiting in the kitchen for him to get dressed.
Greg threw open the door to his room, his tie undone, pulling on one shoe.
“There’s coffee already? Oh man, you’re the best. My last roommate liked to make breakfast, but it was usually just burnt toast.”
He brushed past you to fill his mug from the French press.
“Top you off?” he said.
“Thanks,” you said, holding out your mug.
Greg sat atop the stool beside you, hunched over his coffee.
“I always make you late,” he said.
“We’re not late yet.”
“You can leave without me, you know. You don’t have to wait.”
“It’s okay. I like having roommate time together.”
“Me too,” he said. “Do we have time to grab food?”
“I think so. Do you still want to meet up for dinner after work?”
“Definitely.”
“You realize your tie is undone,” you said.
Before he could respond, you took both ends of his tie and began to tie it for him. Greg stood completely still, hands half raised, watching.
“Oh, that’s- very kind of you,” he stammered. You tightened the knot and smiled.
“Let’s get going. If we’re late with Tom’s breakfast, he’ll flagellate us.”
Greg was at his cubicle when he saw you later that day. You usually worked on the lower floors, with the rest of the ATN crew. It was rare that you made it up to the executive floor on any given day, so he took notice. You were handing out what appeared to be a memo to the executives, greeting them politely as you moved from office to office.
When you started heading back towards the elevators, he stood up to follow you and say a quick hello. But then he paused. Kendall had stepped out of his office to greet you. Greg slowly sat down, watching the encounter over the top of his cubicle.
Kendall had his hands in his pockets, an easy smile on his face. Greg was all too familiar with that smile. He felt his stomach sink. Kendall’s laughed said something into your ear. That’s when Greg sank down into his seat and didn’t reemerge.
He was still slouched in his seat like this when Tom found him an hour later.
“What are you doing, slacker?”
“Oh, you know…”
“You look like you’ve been drained of all your lifeblood.”
“Hey,” Greg said, stirring, “What was Y/N doing up here earlier?”
“Oh, the email server is down so we had to hand out a memo the old fashioned way.”
“Does Y/N know Kendall at all?”
“I don’t think Kendall knows Y/N exists, Greg. Kendall’s range of awareness is very narrow.”
“They were bantering outside his office.”
A smile slid across Tom’s face. “So you were spying on them from your lonely little cubicle and you’ve been crying at your desk ever since?”
“I was definitely not crying.”
“But you were spying.”
“I thought you two lived together. Are you telling me you haven’t been fucking like bunnies in that apartment?”
“We’re just roommates. We have separate rooms.”
“That’s fucking ridiculous, Greg. Why two hot young people should live in such close quarters without fucking is beyond me. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Ashamed? I thought I was doing the righteous thing.”
“You are, Greg, which is why I’m so furious. You’re too pure for this world.”
Tom sighed, shaking his head.
“I worry about you, Greg.”
“So do I.”
He waited outside for you. The other employees filed out past him, but you didn’t show. He checked his phone. No text. Sighing, he hailed a cab and started back to the apartment alone.
Greg sat up for a long time reading, the door to his room cracked slightly. This was a signal that you had agreed upon, meaning it was okay to come in and chat. Greg listened for the sound of the front door, but hours passed and still you didn’t show. Finally he turned over on his back with his fingers crossed over his chest. He saw Kendall’s flashy smile, eyes crinkling when you laughed at his jokes. He heard Tom’s voice chastising him. Finally he saw you, standing inches from him only that morning, tying his tie.
When he woke up in the morning, your door was wide open, the bed untouched. He stumbled into the kitchen, still not dressed, to grind beans for coffee.
He was late.
It wasn't long after work the next day when you finally returned to the apartment. Greg had only recently arrived and collapsed onto his bed. He heard the door open and shot up in bed, listening. Your footsteps stopped outside his slightly open door.
“Greg?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said.
The door creaked open and you stood there in the same clothes you had worn yesterday.
“Are you mad at me?” you said meekly.
“What? No. For what? Come in here.”
You stepped inside, sliding off your shoes, sitting on the edge of his bed. He sat up, crossing his legs. He was still in his work clothes, white Oxford shirt unbuttoned at the chest.
“I missed dinner,” you said.
“It’s okay. I guess you had other plans.”
“I fucked up,” you said. You turned to face him, one leg hanging off the bed. “I’ve been fucking up for a while.”
“What do you mean?”
“First there was that producer from ATN.”
“Oh, the one with the eyes?”
“Then there was the executive that got fired. And now Kendall.”
You shook your head, still not looking at him. He wanted to reach out, to lift your chin, to look you full in the face. But he didn’t move.
“Well, you’re a very desirable young person.”
You looked up at him, half a grin spreading on your face.
“Why do you say it like you’re my grandpa?”
“Sorry. I’m not trying to be a grandpa. It’s just- you have a lot of suitors.”
“You still sound 18th century.”
Greg cracked a smile, running his hand through his flopping hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m not very smooth.”
“That’s a good thing, Greg. You’re the only one I feel safe with.”
You leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. You eased towards him until he could feel your breath on his lips.
“Do you enjoy playing with people’s hearts?” he whispered.
You pulled back swiftly.
“Fuck,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
You started to get up, but he gently took your hand.
“Stop. It’s okay. I just have a few things to say, if you want to listen.”
You nodded and crossed your legs, facing him. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
“Actually, it’s just one thing: I like you. I have feelings for you. Feelings of a romantic nature.”
“Greg…”
“I don’t mind the other guys. Kendall is great. He’s charming, he’s rich. Two great traits right there. It’s me I’m worried about. How do I stack up against them? I’m broke, I take the subway to work, I never wake up on time. So I sort of resigned myself so just being your roommate. Your friend.”
“I’m glad you’re my friend, Greg.”
“Me too.”
“Good. Roommates, then?”
“Roommates.”
His blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, and in an instant you were on top of him. His head sank into the pillow as you straddled him, running your hands through his hair. His hands were all over you, feeling every inch of the person he never thought he would have. You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding your hands beneath the undershirt he wore. He sat up, pulling it off swiftly. You lunged towards him once more.
“Wait, wait,” he whispered, putting his hands on your shoulders. You sat panting, gazing at each other.
“Are we doing this?” he breathed.
“Do you want to?”
“Well, why should two hot young people should live in such close quarters without fucking?”
A grin spread across your face. Bringing your hands to his hair, you kissed him again, slowly this time. He sank back on the bed, flicking off the lamp as he went.
The next morning, you emerged from a cab together outside of the Waystar office. Greg strode beside you in his wayfarer sunglasses, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and your hand in the other. You glanced at him and smiled, squeezing his hand.
Kendall stepped out the door as you approached the building. He took one look at you and Greg, and a quiet smile came over his face.
“Morning, kids,” he said. You thought you saw him wink behind his sunglasses. He kept walking.
Greg glanced over his shoulder, then leaned down to kiss you swiftly on the lips.
“And we’re not even late,” he murmured.
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In Control
Fandom: Fourth Wing -- The Empyrean
Ship: Xaden/Violet
Rating: E
Main Tags: D/s dynamics, bondage, trust
Synopsis:
“Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.” Once, Xaden didn't want Violet to take a look into his armoire, and she joked that she already knew all of his clothes. Little did she know about what he really keeps hidden there. Further down their relationship, Xaden eventually shows her his collection of sex toys and bondage gear, and Violet is more than just a little intrigued. But... she brave enough to give up control?
This started as a silly joke in a chat group with dear friends, the perfect BDMS arsenal hidden in a wardrobe. Then it became a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. Now, it's roughly 8.5k words of smut. I'm absolutely not sorry! 😁
Also, this takes place in a Universe Alteration where Xaden didn’t hold back after the first time he and Violet kissed. They get closer, become lovers, and he lets Violet in on his secrets, about Aretia, Brennan, the Venin and Wyvern, the rebellion. So for this story, they’ve been a couple for months already, with no secrets left between them.
@drsoaresrex You wanted me to tag you in this. ☺️
. o O o .
Violet
It started slowly. Simple.
I always liked it when things between Xaden and me turned rougher. Hell, it’s been like that from the very first moment, and going slow and soft is rarely our style, especially in bed. We’re both too needy, too hungry for each other to hold back.
I also like him taking the lead, at least when it comes to sex. Maybe it’s because with him I know I don’t have to always watch my back. With him, I’m safe. And wherever he leads us, it’ll be good.
And who doesn’t like it when their partner focuses their entire attention on only them, on pleasing them several times per night?
No, I never thought much of all this, and other things I liked just… neatly fit into our relationship as well. Like how him pinning my hands above my head when we make out turns me on more, or how my heartbeat quickens when he uses his shadows to keep me from fidgeting too much.
But while I didn’t pay those things any mind, Xaden did. Was actually slowly testing out how far he could go before it became uncomfortable for me.
And now, we’re here, in his spacious room, and he’s about to show me the contents of his armoire—the one I thought merely held his clothes until today.
“Are you nervous?” Xaden throws me an amused glance as I shift my weight—for the fourth time in half as many minutes.
I blink and try to reign in my racing heart. “N-no? Why would I be?”
He pointedly looks at where I’m ringing my hands, which I drop immediately. Then he steps in front of me, his fingers gently prying my lower lip from between my teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.”
Right…
I take a deep breath and nod. Because I want this to work, for this first trial run, at least. “Okay. Yeah, I’m nervous. I’ve never…” I helplessly gesture at his armoire.
“…used a sex toy?” he asks, his scarred eyebrow raised.
(More beneath the cu or on AO3)
“Let someone else use one on me,” I correct him, lightly swatting his arm. “Let alone more than one…”
Xaden hums, a smirk playing around his lips. He’s in a good mood today. “It’s not so much different from sex without toys,” he says as he beckons me closer and opens the door. “Amazing for everyone involved, if you know how to handle your tools.”
Heat spreads across my cheek and pools in my belly as I step next to him. My body remembers all too well how well he handles his tools, after all.
However, when I take in his collection, my mouth goes dry. “Oh my…” I breathe, eyes going wide. It’s not that he didn’t tell me he had a good amount of toys, but… I wasn’t prepared for this.
Neatly sorted into row above row lie more dildos I thought any one person might need, and a lot more toys where I only partially can guess what they’re even used for. I see whips and plugs, clamps, and paddles on one side, then gags, blindfolds, leather cuffs, and a lot of rope on the other. On the ground, there’s a box with more toys, and only at the very top of the huge armoire are three small areas with Xaden’s neatly folded clothes.
His warm weight at my back is a welcome support as my knees grow a little weak, my breathing quickening. “So this is what you didn’t want me to discover the first time you took me to your room back then,” I murmur, grateful for his arms winding around my waist and his lips brushing against my temple. A grounding bit of normalcy.
“Didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he admits, then adds after a pause, “So… what do you think?”
I think this is the first time I ever heard any vulnerability in his voice, I think to myself, but I’m careful not to let him hear those thoughts.
“It’s… intimidating?” I admit. No hiding my feelings, it’s what I promised him. “You used all of these, I guess? I don’t even know what half of these are used for.” I shake my head.
“I did, yes. I can explain them all to you, or answer any question you want to ask. And we don’t need to use any of these either if you don’t want to. I’m just… informing you about your options.”
Smiling to myself, I turn in his arms. “But you want to, don’t you?”
There’s a strange look in his eyes, the same vulnerability I heard in his voice. “I’d like that, yes. But…” He shakes his head. “Violet, this is not something I’d ever force or even just push on you. Whether we end up going through this entire armoire and even expand it or never even use a single toy, I’ll be happy either way. This is not about what I want.”
Because all he wants is for me to be happy. He’s made that clear a thousand times since I learned about the secrets he’d kept from me.
I sigh. “I want to try, I think.”
“You think?” He raises an eyebrow, lips tilting into a smile at the familiar exchange.
“I know I want to try. But…” I bite my lip and avert my eyes. “Maybe not everything at once?”
At that, he laughs.
. o O o .
“Okay, so, which ones would you want to use first?” I ask a little while later. I got a short but good explanation for most of the toys. It got a bit overwhelming in-between… but mostly, I’m just horny now. Imagining all things he could do…
Xaden eyes me with a measuring look, then turns toward his armoire. “Generally, I’d prefer not to tell you. Let it be a surprise, you know?”
I huff a laugh. Of course…
“But as long as we’re testing whether this works, I’ll gladly tell you beforehand. So, for tonight… How about these?”
He picks a few items and places them in front of me onto the bed. There’s a couple of dildos in varying sizes, a bottle of oil, some pieces from the box at the bottom, sex toys specifically made for Riders as they’re powered by our lesser magic, and a thin black scarf.
“That looks… tame?” I say, inwardly relieved he didn’t pick any of the whips and paddles.
Xaden smirks. “If you say so.” he sits down across from me. “My goal as a… as a Dom is to please you. That’ll be my focus, to make you feel good. Over and over and over.”
I shudder at the implication, heat pooling between my thighs.
“And while some people find pleasure in pain and ‘punishments’, and I’m more than happy to deliver those if it’s what you desire, I would not go there right away. If you like those things, we’ll get there eventually, but with how you react to pain differently already, that’d be a slow journey.”
I nod, touched by his consideration. “And what’s this for?” I point at the scarf.
“It’s a blindfold.” Xaden picks up the silken fabric and lets it run through his fingers. The sight makes my throat go dry and I need to swallow. I can’t wait to feel those skilled hands on my body tonight. “Not being able to see will stir your attention to what you feel.” He leans in and, as if he’d read my mind, caresses my cheek, my neck, down to my collarbone. “And I want you to feel everything tonight.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
If he continues like this, he won’t get the chance to use any of his toys as I’ll be riding him to the heavens and back in two minutes at the latest.
Chuckling, he pulls his hand back, and I begin to suspect that he probably did hear my thoughts.
“I did, which is good. It means I can better gauge how you’re doing.”
I send him the mental image of a stuck-out tongue.
“And that I’ll be doing, too.”
There’s no way to win this, is there?
Turning my attention back to the toys in front of me, I notice something’s missing. “No restraining?” I ask, confused. That’s what made him open up to me about all this in the first place, after all, how turned on I get when he keeps me pinned.
“Oh, you won’t be moving anywhere,” he purrs, his shadows sliding up my legs and pulling my thighs apart. My breath hitches, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a damp spot on the blanket now from my soaked underwear. “But unless you specifically want to use the leather cuffs or ropes, I don’t need anything but my signet.”
Swallowing hard, I follow the retreating shadows with my eyes. “But I thought they aren’t as reliable,” I ask, recalling previous incidents where his restraints faltered when he lost himself to pleasure. Not that I mind, I love seeing him lose control with me. “Isn’t that why you have those things?”
Xaden becomes eerily quiet in an instant, his expression more serious than I have seen it in a bedroom in a long time. “Violet, this will be different from our usual nights. Usually, when we sleep together, we’re both tumbling down that road, together. We’re dragging each other further down, but if need be, either of us could stop at any moment and pull the other out of it, too.
“This is something else. This is… if we do this, then you’re giving up any and all control, trusting me to take care of you. You won’t tumble, you’ll potentially be in free fall, relying solely on me to catch you. My shadows will be restraints enough because I won’t lose control. I mustn’t. If I were to lose control tonight, then I failed you. I won’t let that happen.”
I can only stare at him, openmouthed. Slowly, I begin to realise what this is. It’s not just spicier sex. No, the sex is actually only the icing, the more important part being the ties we build, our relationship. Being able to let go, to trust completely, and to be worthy of this trust in return.
Slowly, I reach for his hand and card my fingers through his, then raise our joined hands to brush my lips against his. ”I trust you, Xaden,” I murmur as I try to send what I feel for him through our bond. All my love for him, that warm fuzziness only he makes me feel, the iron clad knowledge that he’ll always have my back. “You won’t let me fall.”
For the fraction of a second, Xaden’s eyes widen. Then, before I can react, he breached the distance between us and is kissing me. His free hand slides to the back of my neck, and I hum against his lips, my eyes fluttering shut at the exquisiteness of his mouth against my own. I’ll never get enough of this, of his lips, so soft and yet unyielding, his tongue claiming every inch of me, his low groans rumbling deep in his chest. It’s perfect.
But it’s also different, I notice. It’s not that he’s withholding anything, but I still feel the control he spoke of, how he dominates our kiss instead of the usual back and forth.
I can’t say I don’t like it.
“I love you, Violence,” he murmurs against my lips as we part, his forehead pressed against mine. “Gods, I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
Smiling, I raise my hand to caress his face. “I love you, too.” Maybe I’ll never know about all the demons of his past that still haunt him, but I don’t need to. It’s enough to know who he is, deep inside.
Xaden turns his head to brush a featherlike kiss against my fingertips, then pulls back, his eyes soft with emotions. “So, if you don’t have any other questions…?” I shake my head, my heartbeat quickening in anticipation. “Right. Then you only need to pick a safe word and we can get started.”
We’ve talked about safe words before, for various situations, to set boundaries. But I know this should be something else, something we’ll only use in this situation. So I’ve thought about it before and already came up with an idea I know Xaden will love.
“How about Squadleader?” I ask, grinning mischievously.
Xaden snorts a short laugh. “Yeah, right. If you think of him tonight then I definitely did something wrong.” He shakes his head, but I can see the humour glinting in his eyes. A part of him, the part that hates my former best friend, delights in my choice. “But it works. And remember: While I might check in on how you’re doing, I won’t stop. Not until I think you had enough or you use this safe word. Understood?”
I nod, but he shakes his head. “Say it. Use your words.”
I take a shaky breath. “Understood.”
“Very good.” He stands and places the toys onto the bedside table, and I can practically see the shift in him. “Now, come here. Stand and hold very still.”
I do as I’m told, curious to see how this will go. So far, our shared nights have always been wild, uncontrollable. Explosive, as he once described it. This calm and controlled version of him has always been the Wingleader and not my… whatever we are at this point. Mates?
When he touches me, though, all my worries evaporate. He cradles my face in his palms then lets them glide down to the back of my neck, like he’s done a hundred times by now, and kisses me. And even though the kiss is more controlled than usual, it’s no less heated. His tongue swipes through my mouth, claiming, demanding, and whatever resistance I might have felt melts away within seconds.
“That’s it, Vi. Relax for me.”
A shudder runs down my spine and my eyes flutter closed as he moves his fingers into my hair and expertly detangles my tightly fixed braid.
“I… I thought my hair is too distracting for you?” I ask, a little breathless already. With him all around me like this, I can’t help but deeply inhale his minty scent, and I have to fight not to ignore his first order and lean in toward his neck, to kiss and lick and suck and—
“Mmh,” Xaden hums, tearing me from my thoughts. “Usually, it is. Which is why I had to do this first. If I can stay in control with your hair down, then I can do this.” He runs his finger across my scalp and through my hair, down my neck, along my jaw and brushing against my ears. His touch makes me shiver, goosebumps running across my arms, and I mewl, feeling weirdly exposed yet safe beneath his touch.
He’s definitely in control. And I love it.
“Turn around.”
It’s an order and I follow. But it’s different from when he gives orders outside this room, warmer, deeper.
With great care, he unlaces my corset and puts it aside, then steps in front of me again. In his hand, he holds the black scarf. “Is this okay for you?”
I blink, surprised that he asks, but then nod.
“Use your words! Are you comfortable with me blindfolding you?”
A new shudder runs down my spine and my head spins. “Yes, I am.”
“Good.” He wraps the silken band around my head, once, twice. He makes sure to cover my eyes thoroughly, but only them, tying the ends into a tight knot above my ear.
As he works, a thought crosses my mind, and I can’t help but ask. “Why the scarf, though? Couldn’t you use your shadows for this, too?”
He huffs a quick laugh. “I could. But…” He leans closer, his mouth brushing against my ear. “I like the look of this better. It’s hot.”
Then he takes my hands and tugs me forward. “Come here. Onto the bed. Lie down on your back.”
With his guidance, I find the right position. It’s odd, I thought this would be awkward, weird, even funny, maybe. But it’s not. I’ve never felt so vulnerable and exposed, even with my clothes still on, yet at the same time so at ease. I know I’m safe with him.
“Now, arms over your head. Legs slightly spread. Yeah, just like that. Are you comfortable?”
I nod, then remember his earlier command. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” The little praise and his pat on my thigh do funny things to me, my breath hitching audibly, and I nearly miss the smile in his voice. I jump a little as his hand cradles my cheek, but then instantly lean into his touch. His skin against mine, it feels so good.
“I will restrain you now,” he informs me. The sober words should feel cold, clinical, but they have the opposite effect on me, my heart beating faster and heat pooling in my stomach. I know I can only feel the shadows because he wants it that way as they curl around my wrists and ankles. A moment later, the sensation is gone, but when I try to move, I can’t.
I yelp as, suddenly, the mattress beneath me drops away.
“It’s alright,” Xaden’s calm voice assures me. “I just lifted you off the bed so I can better remove your clothes.”
I frown but don’t say anything. Why didn’t he strip me when I was standing? Or let me do it, for that matter. However, a few heartbeats later, I get my answer.
Slowly, so excruciating slowly, my tunic glides across my skin. I can only guess that he’s using his shadows again to slide it off me, because his hands and mouth are otherwise engaged. I suck in a shaky breath as he explores every inch of exposed skin, thoroughly, kissing, nipping, licking me, every little contact sending little darts of pleasure into my core. He was right, not being able to see—and this entire setting, really—makes everything more intense.
“Xaden!” I moan when he reaches the lower edge of my ribs. This pace is killing me.
But Xaden only chuckles. “Patience, Violence. We have aaaaall night.” I groan when he finds a particularly sensitive spot, and he lingers there even longer, drawing slow circles with his thumbs on my skin.
He skips over my still bound breasts and moves on to my collarbones and then my arms, all the way up to my wrists and then back down again, to my shoulders, my neck. By the time he dips his tongue into my mouth, I’m a whimpering mess.
“Xaden, please,” I mewl between his slow kisses. “I… I need…”
Xaden shakes his head, his smile tangible against my lips. “All you need to do, Violet, is to relax. Whether you come or not, when you come, it’s not your concern tonight.”
My moan gets swallowed by his kiss. It’s not as heated or wild as our usual kisses, but no less intense. Xaden is fully in control, of himself but also of me. I want to kiss him back, but I can’t even lift my head to deepen the kiss or twist it for a better angle. I only get what he deigns to give, when he deigns to give it—and it’s hot.
He continues with my trousers, going just as slowly as before. His broad hands and soft lips glide down on the outside of my legs, then up again on the inside. It’s unbearably sweet, the way pleasure trickles through my body at his every action. Not enough to fuel anything but never giving me a break, either.
I’m almost content with him teasing me like this for a while when he finally reaches the apex of my thighs. Surely, he’s as impatient as I am by now. After all, I know him well enough. But instead of touching—let alone kissing—me the way I want, the way I need… Xaden merely blows a kiss onto my damp slip and moves higher again.
“F-fuck! Xaden, please!” I beg. I’m able to squirm beneath his touch now, so he must have loosened his restraints on my body a bit. But not enough for me to rub my thighs together or to arch up into his touch. “I can’t…”
“Of course, you can take it,” he murmurs, his breath tickling. He’s making his way around my belly button at this point, placing open-mouthed kisses against my hypersensitive skin. It’s driving me insane. “All you need to do is to give in.”
I whimper. I hear his words, but even though they seem to make sense, I don’t know what to do. How can I relax or give in when he’s constantly teasing me, flooding my body with sensations? Right now, he’s kissing his way along the seam of my silken black slip and I can’t cope.
“Xaden!” I mewl, pleading, but I already know he won’t comply. He said it himself, he won’t stop. Not unless I use my safe word. But as quickly as that thought crossed my mind, I’m already discarding it again. Because I don’t want him to stop, I realise. It makes bearing his delicious torture easier.
I manage to calm down a bit, to simply take his teasing, let it wash through me, and find relief in a different way; moaning freely, vocalising what I feel.
A shudder runs through Xaden’s broad frame above me, and he sighs. “That’s it, Violence. Just give in. Give yourself over to me.”
I want to. So I do it. Somehow, I’m sliding deeper into my own body, leaving the world outside for him to take care of.
. o O o .
Xaden
I feel the shift in Violet’s mind as clearly as I can see it. The way her whirling thoughts grow calmer, her body relaxes. She’s ready for more.
Without ever breaking contact with her skin, I move up, using my hands this time to loosen her wrappings and remove them, seeking the more intimate contact of skin against skin. Violet merely sighs as her breasts are freed, and I palm them immediately. They’re bigger than her wrappings and corset would suggest, still note huge but on her smaller frame, they look perfect.
“You’re doing so well,” I murmur as I gently knead her, my thumbs drawing circles around her nipples, getting closer and tighter with every round. Violet arches up into my touch and moans a little louder, but that’s all. No more pleading for more, to go faster. She’s not quite where I want her, but she’s on a good way. “Let me take care of you.”
She mewls and there’s a flicker of thought through our bond. Not words, but a sense of compliance, and I smile.
Gods, she’s so beautiful, in every way. Perfect. I take a moment to admire her, how she lies in front of me, completely open and unguarded.
When I see her there, lying on my bed in that submissive position and completely open for me to take her, a strange sense of calmness spreads in my stomach.
I expected this to be difficult. Usually, just being near her makes me hard, and every little touch or smile or unconscious movement prompts the urge to tear her clothes off and fuck her until neither of us can think straight anymore.
But instead, my heartbeat and breathing level out, my mind stops its constant whirling and settles on the here and now. On the woman that gave me her trust. On the woman I love.
I gasp at the sudden rush I feel. That’s always been it. Her trust in me, even against her mother or Aetos. It’s what destroyed my already crumbling resistance to the feelings I had for her. And now, she let’s me have her like this, granting me this ultimate trust.
I won’t fail her.
I lean over her to taste her breasts. It’s something I rarely do, rarely get the chance for. Usually, we’re fucking like animals before we even shed all of our clothes, and it’s not that I don’t enjoy that. Fuck, sex with her is… it’s more than anything else I ever experienced. Deeper, meaningful, more intense. The joining of our hearts and souls along with our bodies.
But having her like this for once, without any hurry, my driving need contained in that neat little box somewhere deep inside me… It’s amazing. I hope she let’s me do this again every now and then. And it’s more intense than when I did this with other partners before, too. With none of them, my feelings were even remotely close to what I feel for her. She’s everything.
I let my tongue swirl around her nipple and suck on it, lightly, while my hand works on her other breast, rolling and plucking at the rosy bud. I could do this forever, just indulging in worshipping her body, tasting her, feeling her warmth, surrounded by that intoxicating floral scent of hers. But the litany of moans and cries that drop off her lips, growing in urgency the longer I play, tells me she’s had enough.
“I’ll remove your slip now,” I inform her, but she barely reacts. It’s easy, my shadows moving her legs until the soaked piece of black lace and silk is on the floor, and I can comfortably settle between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so wet, glistening with her arousal. My throat goes dry with the urge to taste, to drink her down like a delicate wine. But not yet.
I kneel on the bed, her legs draped over my thighs, and let my hands glide across her skin. Her moans grow shorter, louder, her breathing quickening as I draw circles with my thumbs, growing closer to her centre with every round. I’ve reached her outer lips, moving them back and forth, when she starts squirming again, and I pause. “Don’t fight it,” I murmur. “Just let it happen. You don’t have to do anything, Violet. I’ve got you.”
She whimpers, and her legs, her entire body really, start to tremble with how tense she grows. I wait, rubbing her outer thighs in comfort. Eventually, she goes pliant again, and I sigh. “Very good. You’re such a good girl for me, letting me take care of you.”
I continue my earlier motion, massaging her outer lips until she’s positively dripping. Dragging my fingers through her wetness and listening to her high-pitched yelp, I bring some of her arousal to my mouth, moaning around my fingers at her taste. Fuck! She truly is the most delicious treat, addictive, so satisfying. I could drown in her and not complain for a second.
Just a little longer, I tell myself, suppressing the urge to simply devour her to my heart’s desire.
My fingers move further, teasing at her entrance and inching closer to her clit. But aside from her legs twitching on occasion, she doesn’t react, doesn’t buck her hips into my touch, doesn’t stiffen. Even when I start to draw circles around that sensitive little bud, her body stays pliant, her only reaction the raise in volume of her cries. She’s ready.
Exhaling deeply, I get off the bed and move her to the edge of the mattress. Then I sink down onto my knees in front of her, like she deserves, and lift her legs above my shoulder. Let the game start for real.
Without any more hesitation, I lean in and drag my tongue across her sex, all the way from her entrance up to her clit. Her taste is like an explosion in my mind, nearly breaking me, and her moan, the deepest and most urgent one yet, could easily kill me with its sweetness. Fuck, this is so good.
I take my time devouring her. I’m not going slowly or only tease her. No, we’re past that point. But I know what I’m doing, know her well enough to find the line I want to lead her on. So I push my tongue into her, exploring her insides and stimulating all those sensitive nerves around her entrance, and I play with her clit, suckling, biting, nibbling, writing my love letters into her heated flesh.
But I’m careful not to push her too far.
I don’t want her to come, not yet. I want to keep her on that edge of madness, want the pleasure to mount in her until her body can barely contain it anymore, to fill her with it.
So I keep going. My hands are on her ass or wrapped around her waist, holding her in place for me, my mind focused solely on her. On her pleasure, her body, the sense of mindless desire I get through our bond. Drinking in her juices and her delicious cries and moans, I groan as my cock pushes against my leathers. I’m not a machine, after all, and Violet is just too sexy not to react to, especially like this. But I shove my own desire aside. This is only about her.
Her body grows taut again, but I know it’s not her doing. It’s her body, her nerves burning with need as she trembles all over, and her moans shift to an endless row of short desperate sobs.
Outside, lightning cracks in front of my window.
Finally!
I allow myself a grin against her skin as more and more lighting strikes follow. Violet got so good at controlling her signet, lately. Making her lose control is… well, it’s fucking hot, that’s what it is.
But it also means I reached my goal.
“You’re doing amazing, love,” I growl. “Time to reward you.”
I bring my hand to her entrance, and my fingers glide inside her with no resistance. Fuck, she’s so slick, pulsing hot. She tightens at the intrusion, her walls clenched hard around my fingers. As if she’s sucking me in deeper. I can’t fucking wait to get inside her.
Later.
Smiling to myself, I crook my finger, bringing them just where I want them to be. Violet screams at the first brush against that spot, but I don’t give her time to process. I pull my fingers out directly and shove them back in, again and again, fucking her on my fingers, hard. Pushing against that spot inside her over and over as I harshly suck on her clit. No holding back anymore.
“Come for me,” I command into her mind. And she does.
Her scream echoes through the night, and the entire room rattles with the power she unleashes, her body spasming with her release. I wrap my free arm around her waist to hold her in place as I push her through it, feverishly giving her everything I can. More licking and sucking, drinking her down, and more fingerfucking with her walls clenching so tight it’s almost painful.
The night sky is all but constantly illuminated with her lightning, but I don’t pay it any mind anymore, my entire focus on Violet only. On how her body convulses with pleasure, how her scent permeates the entire room, her wanton screams and cries like music.
They grow quieter as her orgasm ends, but no less intriguing, urgent wailing as her body tries to come down from its height but can’t. Like so often when I go down on her, I don’t stop after her first orgasm, knowing how easily I can push her right into a second one. And today is no different.
It takes only seconds before her body gives in to the inevitable and she comes again on my tongue. It’s sweeter this time, a little softer after the explosive first round, but no less beautiful. This time, I only push her through it with my fingers, her inner walls fluttering around me, and I lift my head to watch her fall apart.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Almost radiating with the afterglow as her body sinks into the sheets like a puddle of pure bliss, a soft smile tilting her lips.
I keep my fingers moving inside her, but slower, not aiming to push her yet, and move to sit beside her. “Violet? Are you okay?”
Her breath hitches as if I startled her, and she giggles, like she’s not fully here with me. “Xa-xaden? Yeah, I… I’m good.” She giggles again. “That was… fuck… fucking amazing.”
My lips tilt into a half smirk. “That’s good to hear. But we’re far from done, Violence. This was merely the warm-up.”
Her breath hitches again, her body angling itself to where my weight depressed the mattress. “You didn’t think I’d leave it at two, did you?” I breathe into her ear.
A shudder runs along her body, a soft mewl slipping off her lips. “Xaden, I… I don’t kn—”
“But I know,” I interrupt her firmly. Staying in this old role with her is easier than I thought. Because I know she won’t have any qualms about using her safe word if it really gets too much for her. This is the woman who casually threw daggers at my head only a few months ago, for fuck’s sake. “You can take more, a lot more.” I palm her breast with my free hand, teasingly, and she whimpers, her hips rocking into my hand. “See? And you don’t even have to do anything, just let me take care of you.”
She whimpers again, but still leans into my touch as I caress her cheek, and her body becomes pliant again.
“Yeah, that’s it, Violet. Just let go.”
I lean down to brush my lips against her mouth, and my tongue dips between her instantly parted lips. A soft moan vibrates in her chest as she can probably taste herself on me, so sweet and sultry. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her, wouldn’t do for her.
“I love you so much.”
There’s a flicker along our bond, but no words from her. Merely the sense of an echo of mine.
Smiling, I let my shadows reach for the toys. It’s time for round three.
. o O o .
Violet
Not being able to see is… an experience.
I’ve rarely been scared of the dark, and now with Xaden controlling the shadows, they’ve almost become something like a friend to me. So I thought, being blindfolded wouldn’t make such a difference, not when I can feel what happens anyway.
But this is nothing like I expected it to be. Feeling what he does means in no way understanding it, too. Like when there are suddenly two mouths suckling on my breasts. If the situation was different, I might have thought more about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t invite someone else without asking me, so that can’t be it. His shadows, maybe? But are they really this nimble?
A cry tears itself from my chest and all thoughts fly out of my head as the sucking grows stronger, harsher, something like tongues flicking against my nipples, over and over. Not being distracted by seeing makes the sensation so much more intense, and with how sensitive my body already is after Xaden’s earlier build-up, the only things left in my mind are More! Yes! Xaden! Fuck!
I hear him chuckle, briefly wondering whether I sent those thoughts through our bond, but ultimately, I don’t care. Not when pleasure coils deep in my guts, my mind growing hazy again. It’s a lovely feeling, not having to think. All I have to do is feel, and it’s more liberating than anything before.
Just like before, I start drifting, floating in an ocean of pleasure. I can’t control the ups and downs, only go with them, trusting in that he won’t let me drown.
My orgasm hits me out of nowhere, like a wave pulling me under, with no lead-up—or at least I didn’t notice any. I think I’m screaming as pleasure like fire burns through my veins and explodes in my mind, wiping it blank. I can’t feel my body clenching or shaking, don’t know what happens. There’s only this ocean, only me floating and waiting for the next wave, only bliss.
I want it to never end.
. o O o .
Xaden
I watch in awe as Violet comes, her back arching off the bed with her orgasm’s intensity. She didn’t feel it coming, just like I planned. I keep fucking her with the dildo in my hand until she comes down, then leave it to my shadow to keep moving the toy, slowing but never stopping.
My eyes catch on the suction toys fixed to her breasts, once again marvelling at their ingenuity. They work similar to our pens, containing shards of polomiellian gems to amplify minor magics, and it baffled me the first time I heard about these, but ultimately, it makes sense. Sex toys that, fuelled by a Rider’s lesser magic, can execute specific functions should be a very niche product given how small the target group is. But then, Riders have never been an inhibited lot, sex in all flavours is pretty common, and more often than not the motto seems to be The Kinkier The Better. And given that they also make the top of the social and economical structure, it’s no wonder craftspeople cater to their needs.
Either way, I’m not complying. These toys certainly fulfil their purpose. Violet was so focused on the intense stimulation on her tits that she barely noticed the toy moving in her pussy.
I lick some of her juices off my drenched hand—so delicious!—then wipe away the rest on a towel before carefully removing the toys from her breasts. Violet whimpers at their loss and I chuckle. Such a needy little thing, she is.
I let the automatism run out, then put them aside to replace them with my own mouth and hands on her skin. She’s so warm, so soft. I let my lips glide over her, tasting her sweat and listening to her sweet little noises. Comforting her after her climax and leading her to her next.
Still worshipping her every curve and hollow, I let my hand glide down her body and between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so wet. Of course she is, it shouldn’t surprise me. And yet, it does, throwing me off a little every time again. Just knowing that this is the reaction she had on what I do, what I give her. What she lets me give to her. It’s heady.
My fingers find her swollen clit and draw gentle circles around it, my head resting on her chest. Breathing her in and listening to how her heartbeat quickens with the next build-up.
For this round, I use a different dildo than before, a slightly curved one to better hit her g-spot, and a vibrating bead that’s clamped to her clit to get her off. I want her to feel it coming this time, want her waiting for it. Want to hear those breathy little sounds right before she shatters.
It’s as beautiful as ever, the way she shakes and arches, her noises, that wave of satisfaction, both mine and hers through our bond. I could watch her come undone in my bed forever and never tire of it. Lightning cracks, and I smile.
Next, I add a smaller dildo, slowly working it into her ass after preparing her thoroughly. Her moans turn higher, shorter with the fullness, her scream as she falls apart beautifully desperate. I can practically see how her muscles clench around the two toys moving inside her, and the sight is nearly enough to make me spill into my underwear.
I let my shadows move the toys for me and kiss her, fucking her mouth with my tongue. Stealing her breath and swallowing her muffled screams.
I switch out the toys against other, bigger ones, trying and testing what gets her and what not, combining different sensations, stimulations, keeping count on how many times she comes.
There is one combination in particular, one I memorise for future nights, that makes Violet go positively feral. One of the suction toys from before is fixed to her clit, its little ‘tongue’ moving quickly along with the gradually growing suction. In addition, I’m using another dildo, a magically fueled one this time, it’s bulbous head vibrating inside her.
I hoped this would be a good round. But when Violet comes—so quickly that it takes me by surprise for a change—her scream is louder, harsher than all others before, and she writhes so fiercely that I actually have to put effort into keeping her restrained. Outside, the night is bright as day with her lightning, thunder rolling like an avalanche across the keep. We’ll probably have some explaining to do tomorrow.
The power of her orgasm takes me by surprise, too, and before I know it, it rolls over into another one, just as devastating. It leaves her sobbing, her chest heaving, and I take a longer break than usual to comfort her after this, shifting her so I can curl around her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until she calms down again.
It takes many hours, but eventually, it comes to an end. I can feel it in our bond just like I can see it in the way she sinks into the bed, hear it in the slight strain beneath her moans. She probably has another two or three orgasms in her if I were to push for it, but they wouldn’t be as pleasurable as I want them to be. She’s had enough.
For the first time this night, I remove all toys from her body, my hands only soothingly rubbing along her sides.
“We’re done, Violet. You did amazing.” She doesn’t react, but I didn’t expect her to. “I’m going to remove the blindfold now, then I’ll clean you up.”
After placing the black scarf back onto the bedside table with the other toys, I get one of the heat-preserving buckets full of water from the bathing room and, using the softest sponge I can get my hands on, wash the sweat and the sex off her skin. I start at her feet, slowly working my way up. I’m in no hurry, enjoying the aftercare even more than I expected. It’s just so peaceful, so intimate. Only when I reach the top of her legs, I move a bit quicker, more efficiently as I clean her up between her thighs. She’s so over-sensitive, no need to linger there longer than necessary.
By the time I reach her breasts, her eyes are open and she watches me through tired but clear eyes.
“Hey there,” I murmur, and I can’t help myself, I have to reach for her, to caress her cheek and brush aside a sweaty strand of her gorgeous hair. “How are you feeling?”
I’m rewarded with the softest of smiles. “Tired? But good tired. That was… wow!” Her eyes flutter shut, and she sighs.
I lean in and brush a kiss against her forehead. “Then you should sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”
Violet frowns and fights to open her eyes again. “But… but what about you?”
“I’m good.” I chuckle. I’m more than good. “I’ll just finish cleaning you up and head to the bathing room myself, then I’ll be with you again.”
Something flickers in her eyes, understanding probably, but she doesn’t have the strength to protest anymore. “Okay,” she breathes. She’s asleep oly a few heartbeats later.
Smiling to myself, I do just what I told her, taking care of myself to the memories of her coming undone in the bathing room, and quickly return to my room, cuddling against her back. In her sleep, she sighs and burrows deeper into my embrace.
I’m asleep before I can take a full breath of her delicious scent.
. o O o .
I wake up when Violet does, her typical morning twitching and little noises giving her away. With my nose buried in her hair, I take a moment to bask in holding her. I really am the fucking luckiest man alive.
Violet chuckles, the vibrations against my front doing funny things to me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply, and my arm that casually lay around her waist tightens in reflex. But this is not the time. “How are you feeling?”
Violet hums. She turns on her back and stretches, and I pull my arms away to give her space. “I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” she giggles. “But I’m good. Great, even. Last night was… well, that was truly something else.”
I prop myself up on my elbow. “So, you liked it?”
Something flares in her eyes, something that makes my cock twitch in response. Fuck, what is it about her that makes it impossible to control myself when she’s around?
“I’m not sure ‘like’ is the right word. It’s too tame. It was… was... mind-blowing. Literally. I mean—” she laughs, a little bewildered— “I hardly remember most of the night. Only the ocean of pleasure, me drifting without control, and… and that, despite that, I was never afraid.” She gives me a soft smile that makes something inside my chest melt. “Oh, and I lost count pretty quickly. What’s the score?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. Leave it to Violet to be that one of her first questions. “What do you think?”
She shrugs. “Given how weak my muscles are, I’d say… somewhere around seven? Definitely more than the four I remember somewhat clearly.”
I can’t help myself and grin. Leaning down and nuzzling against her neck, I purr, “You came twelve times last night.”
Violet sucks in a surprised breath, then huffs it out again in one short laugh. “Guess that explains a lot. Twelve times…?” She shakes her head. “Fuck, that’s going to be hard to beat.”
I can’t help myself, I fall onto my back, laughing freely. I swear, this woman will one day be the death of me. But I love how untroubled I can feel around her, as if our biggest problem in this world is merely breaking our own sex marathon record.
“I take it you’re not opposed to doing it again, then?” I ask once I caught my breath again. It’s not that I expect her to be against it, but I still need to hear her say it, for my own peace of mind.
A blush spreads across her pale cheeks and she averts her face, brushing a random strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’d… like to do this again. And maybe you can show me what some of those other toys are used for, too? But… maybe not every time?”
At her words, unbidden images flood my mind, of all the ways I could bring her pleasure, could make her scream, could make her body fall apart beneath my hands. But it’s those last words that make me turn toward her and brush a kiss against her soft lips. “I couldn’t have put it into better words,” I whisper against her mouth. Gods, all the things I’d like to show her, to try with her. But also… “Wouldn’t want to miss out on our wild nights.”
Violet chuckles, then pulls me into a deeper kiss, and I let her. I let her angle my head, let her place my hands on her waist, let her pull me closer until I’m on top of her, my weight barely held up on one arm. I’d let her do anything to me.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that, one day.” she hums into my mind, and a shiver runs down my spine. Fuck, do I love this woman.
As our kiss grows deeper, more heated, I let my hand glide over her body, along her neck, squeezing at her breasts, and down her side to her hip. When I reach her thigh, Violet parts her legs to let me settle between them, and I lift it up and around my waist, grinding into her.
“Xaden,” she mewls as my cock glides along her slick folds. “Need you. Now.” She reaches between us and grabs at my cock, guiding me to her entrance. A flicker of “slow down” crosses my mind, but it’s gone in an instant again when she uses her legs around my waist to pull me in, and I sink into her velvety heat.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I growl, my head dropping against her, my mind empty except for fuck yes more!
Violet whimpers, pained, but when I want to pull out, she shakes her head. “Just a little sore,” she gasps. “Go on. Slowly.”
Sighing, I do exactly that. Rolling my hips in the most unhurried of circles, I work my way into her, inch by inch, while my lips find hers again. I want to taste her moans, want to feel the vibrations of her groans as I push deeper and deeper until I bottom out inside her.
Violet sighs, and I swear I could come from that sound alone, so content, so soft. It nearly breaks me.
Keeping the slow pace, partially to regain at least some of my sanity, I pull out and push in again, my mouth never leaving hers. Her hands glide along my back, our tongues moving together in some unknown dance, sensual and so alluring. A part of me wants to stay in this moment forever, but my body demands otherwise.
Only gradually, we pick up speed, her heels against my ass spurring me on. Eventually though, holding the kiss isn’t possible anymore, but while I regret losing that contact, watching Violet writhe beneath me is just as good.
“Fuck, yes!” she moans after I adjust her legs around my waist and thrust into her at a better angle.
The bed is sturdy but still creaks with the force of our movements, the headboard slamming against the stone wall with every thrust. But I don’t care. All that matters is her, this, how tights she becomes around me, her needy moans, the way she clutches at my back and moves her hips to take me even deeper.
It's an uncontrolled frenzy, and I love every second of it.
I groan, my balls growing tight. “Violet!” I’m so close, won’t be able to hold back much longer. My movements become harsher, needy, and with my last strings of control, I focus on grinding myself against her clit, on giving her that tiny extra bit she needs to—
“Xa-xaden!”
Her cry tears through me like a lightning bolt, her clenching walls shredding my last bits of control. With a roar that might or might not be her name, I fuck into her with no restraints, losing myself in the rush of pleasure, in her, in how she quakes, spending myself into her lovely heat in a moment of pure madness.
I slump down next to her, both of us gasping for breath. And as we lie there, trying to regain control of our bodies, I realise something.
Staying in control has become an integral part of my life, of my self. Be it as a Wingleader, as a shadow wielder, as the one responsible for a hundred and seven innocent lives, or as being the dominant with most of my sex partners; being in control has always been vital.
Except for Violet. With her, I’ve never been in control. Right from that first moment on that turret, she’d challenged me, had kept me on my toes, made me question myself. Only with her, I don’t mind tumbling freely. Only with her, I don’t mind losing control.
With a serene calmness in my heart, I crane my neck and brush a kiss onto her hair. “I love you.”
And with a knowing look in her eyes, she smiles back at me. “I love you, too.”
. o O o .
AN: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing. ☺️
And if you have the time, I'd love to get comments. What are your thoughts, what was your fav part? I need to knooooow. 😆
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Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-eight | misc
HOW were you supposed to know that the person who edited your videos was a streamer? And one who had a lot of fans?
You’d never watched a video game stream before, you were normally busy working on some mashup or another so you thought they were a waste of time. Maybe you could watch one of y/n’s, just to see what the hullabaloo was about?
You navigated to her page and, as it turned out, she was currently streaming. You clicked on the stream, not really knowing what to expect. A prompt told you that you had to make an account if you wanted to use the chat, so you opened another window and did so.
You refreshed the stream page and now it showed that you could use the chat and had a name: NEROmusic
“Alright ladies, germs, and Other.”
You had no idea who anyone was. You looked at the grid of people on the screen, some showing their faces and others just represented as their user icons. Oh, the frame around their icon lit up green when they said something. This was… MickTheMacken talking. Okay, you were getting the hang of this.
“Am I a ‘germ’ or ‘Other’?” MorningStar asked. MorningStar sounded like San, so you figured that was him.
“You can be Miscellaneous, if you like.”
“I want to be ‘Misc’,” Jageun Gomen Goyangi said, the frame lighting up. You knew who she was now, so you knew it was y/n. It was still funny to you to think about how you were working together all this time, and yet didn’t know you were working with a - by what you saw - kind of famous streamer, all because it was never something you would ask.
“‘Misc’?” Mick asked.
“‘Misc.’” She repeated.
“I adore it. I am enraptured.”
“You’d better be. I worked for all of five seconds on it.”
“Forceful.” Mick looked into the camera flirtatiously.
The rim around BrickTheBracken’s screen lit up. “Stop stealing my man.”
“Ummm, excuse me? I don’t need to steal a man? I already have one?”
“Mhm.” San said emphatically.
“I desire not your man!” Y/n yelled. “Make haste, wench! Say your piece.”
Mick laughed. “Are you all watching my stream?”
Ryujin lit up. “I’m sniping so hard right now.”
“We’re all cheating crazy hard.” Keeho said-- wait, that was the idol from JUPiTER you had met! Keeho was a streamer? No wait, you had seen that video thumbnail where he was laughing or something… what a small world. Absolutely tiny.
“GOOD.” Mick continued. “Anyway, for the people out there in Radio Land: welcome to our third annual… what did we call it last time?”
“I don’t remember.” Yeji said.
“‘Secret Non-Santa’?” Ryujin guessed.
“With Cat here? We’d never come up with something so obvious. It has to be obtuse.” Keeho added.
“Secret Satan.” Y/n said.
“Round Robin Russian Roulette.”
“Hell.”
Mick laughed. “ANYgay, we’re doing That Fucking Thing We Do when we all find the worst games we can possibly find, throw them into the hat,” he lifted up a tophat, “and we each pick a shitty game and play it for the rest of us to yell at.”
“And everyone watching gives us money for charity!” Yeji said quickly.
“Yes, sorry Yeji, I’m always so preoccupied with our suffering that I forget we’re also trying to make other people’s lives better.”
“You’re welcome,” Yeji said pleasantly.
“How are you picking which of us are going?” San asked.
“Bracken made a wheel.”
“Oh?”
BrickTheBracken appeared in the frame as he wheeled a small game show-style wheel into view behind Mick and presented it to the viewers like a beautiful game show lady.
“Our beautiful Bracken,” Yeji said.
“Wowwww, we’re really coming up in the world.” Y/n said.
“We’re bougie.” Keeho added.
“Mhm.”
“Okay, take your seats, start your engines, keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, because here we go!” Mick spun the wheel. “Cat!”
“Ahhhhhhhh shit.”
Everyone laughed. You laughed too.
Keeho laughed. “Couldn’t’ve happened to a worse person.”
“Keeho, I would like to be the first, to wish you a very Die.”
“Seven years of friendship and this is how she treats me?” Keeho pretended to cry.
“I’m calling your mother.”
Everyone laughed again.
“And to pick the game of our very aggressive contestant--” Mack fished around in the hat for a slip of paper “--Scary Granny! Please click link number five.”
There was a pause as - you guessed - y/n clicked the link and it opened. “...Oh god.”
Mick laughed as he read the description. “Look for evidence against granny in this dark and eeeevil game!”
“Is the game evil or is the granny?”
“I think it’s the game.”
“Before I play this, I would like to try and argue against it.” Y/n said.
“I won’t allow it, but go ahead.” Mack replied.
“I should not have to play this for two reasons: the first being that: …I’m hot. And the second being that: I hate this.”
“I’ve never seen you so I can’t account for the first one, and we all hate this but we do it for the yucks so: start the game, Cat.”
“I’ve seen her, I can vouch for her hotness,” San said.
“But we’ve never seen you either, so how do we know you know what you’re talking about?” Ryujin asked.
“Uhhhh…”
“Morn is hot,” y/n came to his defense.
“But you see how that still means nothing?”
“Circular hotness,” Ryujin said.
You chuckled.
“Keeho can solve this,” Braken started. “You’ve seen Cat, is she hot?”
Keeho’s eyes widened in the kind of shock someone’s face has when someone asks if their sibling is hot. “Um, I don’t want the ‘Keeho and Cat are dating’ rumors to start again so I’ll unfortunately have to decline.”
“You traitor!” Cat yelled. “Coward!”
You couldn’t tell if she was fake mad or actually mad. Everyone laughed, regardless.
“Cat, start the game,” Mick commanded.
She sighed loudly and the game replaced her icon on her screen. In a few seconds, hers was made the main screen so the viewers could watch.
“Oh my god,” y/n said, as the game loaded.
You hadn’t played any video games in your childhood on account of it not being allowed, but you could easily tell that the opening screen… what’s it called?
“The home screen looks like shit…” y/n devolved into rueful laughter.
Ah, yes: the home screen.
“This looks like a PS1 game threw up on itself. Do I really have to play this?”
“Yes, Cat. This is for charity. You have to do the thing.”
“Just tell me if all the games are this bad.”
“They are.”
“Fine.”
You chuckled to yourself.
She started the game and groaned.
You may not have played a video game ever, but you’d seen ads for them before and this one looked like the most unfinished, garbage things you’d ever seen. It was ugly, and all the controls looked bigger than they needed to be.
You must steal from the old woman! was the text that came up on the screen.
“So I’m a burglar?” She asked.
The group laughed.
“Girl help, I’m knocking over an old woman.”
She started running around the level attempting to complete any of the missions the game gave her, but was having a hard time. The granny meant to chase the player got stuck in a wall, got stuck in the middle of the room for a bit, got stuck in the ceiling, and when she fell through the floor and then rapidly went flying vertically through the room a dozen times before shooting off into the stratosphere, Cat went silent.
She sighed. “God damnit.”
Goddamnit it, indeed.
“You have to make it funny, Cat,” Mick said.
She sighed and seemed to think for a moment as the old lady killed her and the level started over.
“You know those scam marriages where people get married to try and become an immigrant in another country?”
Mick laughed a little, seeming to know that this question was leading him. “Yeah.”
“Who are you really scamming if you scam marry someone to move to a place?”
“The government.” Yeji answered.
“You say that like no government has ever scammed its people, ever.”
“...That’s true.”
“I just think that the idea of a marriage being a scam because it doesn’t involve love totally negates asexual and aromantic people. You don’t need to be in romantic love to be married.”
“What about people who might be friends who want to get married for the benefits?” Ryujin chuckled.
“Are you seriously trying to tell me that every straight married couple on the planet loves or even just likes each other? My parents might still be awesomely in love, but I had friends with shitty parents so I KNOW that’s not true. And just look at all of the ‘I hate my spouse’ memes that boomers share; why would they share them if they actually love their spouse?”
“Oh my god.” Keeho said.
“How are you so smart, Cat?” Bracken asked, half-joking.
“I’m just really cute and sexy and good at thinking.”
San chuckled. “So humble too.”
“Mhm…” Granny got stuck again and she restarted the level. “But back to my point, not every marriage is a loving or even a liking one and those people should just get divorced, so the whole point of a marriage - supposing to be about two people who love each other who want to stay together forever - doesn’t make sense anyway.”
The granny killed her again and the level started over. She sighed.
“What about the argument that it’s to have kids?” Keeho asked.
“What about hetero couples who can’t get pregnant? What about couples who adopt, whether they’re gay or straight? Or women and men who are past the child bearing age? Should they get divorced then?”
Mick sighed. “Cat, I said make it funny, not get on a soapbox--”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” San observed.
“Only about five minutes. But my brain is very big and sexy and--”
“Don’t say it.” Keeho said.
“Wrinkly.”
“Ew.”
“So it was easy.”
Mick laughed as Keeho continued to make a disgusted face.
“How do you propose we treat marriage instead?” Mick asked, trying to find the punchline.
“A business venture. And I don’t mean that in like a right wing, small government, libertarian-because-I’ve-never-left-my-small-town-or-even-encountered-a-woman way. I mean that, pre-feudalism, most families produced some sort of good with both members of the marriage contributing to the creation of that product or products, and either one or both participated in the selling of said products: I think that we should just treat marriages as long term business ventures.”
“I’m… I feel like that makes sense? But I’m not sure?” Yeji said, a little confused.
“And we should treat kids like ponzi schemes.”
Keeho sighed. “And there’s the joke.”
You laughed loudly with the group.
“Was that WHOLE FUCKING THING, just for that joke?” He yelled.
“No, I thought of the joke right at the end.”
She cleared the level but somehow the granny killed her despite the game having gone to the ‘Level Over’ screen.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She yelled.
Everyone laughed.
The level started over, but this time, none of the buttons were anywhere to be seen.
“Um… there’s no controls.”
“What?” San asked.
“There’s no controls. I’m moving the mouse and nothing’s happening.”
“What? How?” Keeho asked.
“I have no idea… I think I’m done, guys. Oh my god I can’t even exit the game.” She laughed. “I have to close the program, hold on.”
You decided to comment in the chat.
NEROmusic: Nice job, Cat
“Hey! The person who made my intro is here! Everyone go check out NEROmusic! They make awesome mashups and they’re so so so good.”
“She’s in your chat?” San asked.
“Mhm. She just said ‘good job’. I’m not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not.”
NEROmusic: I’m being serious. That game looked like shit lol
“It was shit, NERO, thank you for commiserating.”
The group went to the next game: Ryujin had to play something called Papa Simulator and had to try to take care of children while making a pizza. Somehow, everything ended up on fire.
Your phone buzzed.
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What If It's Us - Julemarc - Anxiety
Table of Contents
Marc was dragged towards the Agreste manor as Nathaniel and Nino chatted excitedly. He tuned in and out of their conversation, unsure of where they were going, but was happy to go along with Nathaniel. He had wanted to spend more time together outside of their comic, but the anxiety was eating at him. He had to ask.
“H-hey, Nathaniel? Wh-where exactly are we going?” Marc asked.
“Huh? Oh, we’re going to throw a little party for Adrien instead of joining the girls.”
Marc paled. “Party? Gee, that sounds, uh, nice, but I don’t exactly do well with parties.”
“Relax, my dude. It’ll just be a small one with us guys. No worries,” Nino butted in.
Marc looked away, unsure of it all, but played along. He kept to himself as the other guys from school showed up and they all hung out with Adrien. It was fun until more and more people showed up. He felt his anxiety shoot through the roof with the large crowd that was crammed into Adrien’s bedroom. He slipped out and left the Agreste manor behind him as he headed for the Seine where the girls were.
Marc paused as he peeked over the corner to see Alya, Rose, Alix, Mylene, and Juleka. He took a deep breath and came out from his hiding spot. He opened his mouth but tripped over himself and fell flat on his face. He felt their eyes burn into him as he laid there. He whimpered softly and pulled his hood over his head to escape their gazes, but it didn’t help. He laid there until Juleka gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You… ok?” Juleka asked.
Marc shot up to his feet and startled Juleka. “I’m perfectly fine. Yup! As fine as fine can be! I’ll just… I’ll be over there, uh, helping.”
Marc retreated to a far off section of planters before the others could say anything to him. He let out a breath of relief as he started on the tree saplings in the area. He slowly worked on planting them alone until Juleka joined him. He shrank back as she stared at him.
“You… ok?” Juleka asked.
“I… yes. I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Juleka narrowed her eyes as she glared at him.
Marc gulped and avoided her gaze. “No, really. Everything is fine.”
Juleka didn’t relent and glared at Marc still.
Marc took a deep breath and moved around Juleka as he continued to work. He tried to block out Juleka’s glare, but felt it burn into him worse than the others. He whimpered and crumbled behind a planter.
“Not… ok,” Juleka remarked.
Marc shook his head. “No, of course not. I wanted to hang out with Nathaniel today, but that all went up in smoke. I thought maybe I could hang out with you girls where it’d be quieter, but I feel like I’m making a mess of myself. I just… I want to go home.”
“Why have you not?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Juleka looked at Marc, then the planters. She offered her hand to him.
“Juleka?”
“Help. Together.”
Marc raised a brow before he looked over at the planters. “You want to help me finish these?”
Juleka nodded.
Marc considered and nodded as he took Juleka’s hand. They worked together in silence to finish the task. He felt his anxiety melt away in Juleka’s quiet presence. There was no expectation or anything, just to be, and it was refreshing. He found himself smiling as they finished their job.
“Better?” Juleka asked.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“Did not… do anything.”
“Well, no, but just being around you helped me relax. It was nice, especially since I’m always nervous around Nathaniel, but not you. It felt good. Would you maybe want to hang out again?”
Juleka blinked as a slight blush formed on her cheeks.
Marc’s eyes slowly widened as his anxiety tore through him. “No, not like a date. I mean, I’m not sure I really like girls, expect you. You’re really cool, and I like you. Ah! But I don’t mean like, like, but I like you. I just… I thought… we could hang out some time without the others. Or with them too. Just, like, not that many, y’know? I… I’m… I’m sorry.”
“I… would like… that. Tomorrow?”
“Huh, oh! Uh, yeah! Tomorrow works perfectly. I was supposed to hang with Nathaniel, but I’d much rather hang with you. I mean! Because you’re cool and relaxing to be around… like a friend!”
Juleka blushed still as she looked away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Tomorrow then?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.
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Life After Destruction - Chapter 10 - Honkai: Star Rail
<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter>
Four Years Later
Having finished her chat with Himeko, Stelle walked through the train cars down to where she knew Dan Heng and Sirius to be. The Astral Express would be arriving at the Luofu soon, and since she knew the father-son duo had been training for most of the morning, Stelle would prefer they go clean up before they disembarked.
“Twist your wrist like this,” Dan Heng instructed, demonstrating the movement with his spear.
Sirius moved his small, wooden training spear in response.
“Slower.”
Although he pouted, Sirius slowed down his movement.
“Better.” Dan Heng gave Sirius a pat on the head in approval, earning a smile from the boy.
Stelle happily watched from the doorway to the training room. By the time he was two, Sirius had taken up swinging around the little plastic bat that Kafka had gotten for him. When Sirius was four, Caelus decided he’d teach him how to play t-ball, but that stopped upon a lamp getting broken. Needless to say, Pom-pom had not been happy.
Since having his bat temporarily taken away by a particularly angry conductor, Sirius had been forced to sit where either Stelle or Dan Heng could keep an eye on him, which happened to be in the corner of the training room when they were sparring. It was after one of those sessions that Sirius regarded his father’s spear with a new, intense fascination and demanded to learn ‘how to fight like daddy.’
After some discussion, Sirius had been given a wooden pole so Dan Heng could teach him the basics. While the wooden pole with no sharp end would have sufficed, it was Yanqing who’d gifted Sirius a small wooden spear to learn with, insisting that the weight of the spearhead made a difference. Apparently, he’d learned of Sirius’ studying from Jing Yuan, who’d heard about it from Bailu, who never could seem to keep quiet about anything and everything pertaining to her nephew.
“Mom!” Upon spotting her, Sirius ran up to her. “Did you see me?”
“I did! You’re doing so well,” Stelle encouraged. Scarily enough, that was not empty flattery. Five years old, and he was already showing talent for the weapon in his hands. It filled her with an odd mix of pride and fear.
Sirius’s entire expression brightened at her praise. The light pink in his cheeks from working hard seemed to match the dusting of red at the corner of his vibrant blue eyes. It wasn’t quite the sharp lining that Dan Heng had, but enough to show whose kid he was. However, his light gray hair and eyelashes had never shown any signs of darkening, proving her genetics had won out there.
“We’re very close to Auntie Bailu,” Stelle said. “So it’s time to stop practice for the day.”
“I wanna show her everything Dad taught me.”
“She’s gonna be so excited to see it.”
“And G-genrul Jing Yuan.”
“General,” Dan Heng gently corrected.
“Genral,” Sirius tried again.
Instead of correcting him, Dan Heng simply nodded, probably thinking it was close enough. “When we go,” Dan Heng started, squatting down to meet Sirius on eye level, “what are the rules of Aunt Bailu’s home planet?”
“Rules are meant to be broken.”
“No.”
Stelle snorted, failing her attempt at biting back her laugh. Yup, that was her son. The boy may look up to his dad with blue eyes burning with fascination, but Dan Heng insisted Sirius did not get that chaotic streak from anyone other than his mother.
Eyes glittering with mischief, Sirius reached a fist out towards his mom.
She gave his little fist a bump, but then wrapped her hand around his fist and squatted down to his eye level. “Very funny. Now, what’s the real, number one, most important rule?”
Sirius’s expression sobered as he thought. “Stay very close to Mommy and Daddy.”
“That’s right.” Stelle then pulled her boy into a hug.
He hugged her right back.
“Now,” she continued. “You need to go take a bath. You and Daddy are stinky from working sooo hard.”
“I can do it myself!” he proudly insisted.
“I bet you can. So why don’t you go get your bathroom basket?”
“Okay!” He took two running steps towards the door before he froze. With wide eyes, he turned back to Dan Heng.
“What are the rules about your spear?” Dan Heng prompted.
Sirius then scampered over to the tool rack and grabbed a towel from the side. He then plopped down cross-legged, carefully wiping off the edge of what would have been the blade then the handle. Only once satisfied, he carefully put his spear in its slot. When finished, he popped up off the floor and scampered out of the room.
“That is so impressive,” Stelle remarked.
“Considering it’s the only thing he cleans, I would beg to differ.”
“He cleans his room… mostly.”
Dan Heng quirked a brow at her.
“Don’t give me that. It’s not like you frequently made your bed before we married.”
He looked away, knowing he couldn’t counter her on that.
“And besides,” Stelle continued, “he has a very strategic war zone he set up. Other than that, his other things are either in the bin or on the shelf.”
“I suppose,” Dan Heng relented. “I could do without accidentally stepping on his aeon figurines, though.”
Ah, yes. The aeon figures that Madam Herta, Screwllem, and Ruan Mei had gifted them before Sirius was born. Stelle recalled the look of disdain Dan Heng had given a certain aeon with vivid clarity. Sirius was now old enough to play with the figures, always curious to learn about them and their backstories from his parents. After all, they'd been through the Simulated Universe enough times to know more about them than they ever cared to.
“It’s always Yaoshi, isn’t it?” Stelle commented.
“That’s because that’s the only aeon that’s in pieces.”
“Not true. A few are missing limbs, although he knows how to put them back together. Yaoshi is the only one that stays in a constant state of dismemberment.”
“I’ll allow it. I just don’t want to step on it.”
“It’s hard when it’s the same color as the carpet.”
Dan Heng heaved a sigh. “At any rate, I better go check up on him before he makes a mess of the bathroom.”
“Alright. You better go, too. If you’re behind, Sirius is going to hurry you along.”
“True.” With that, Dan Heng pressed a brief kiss to Stelle’s cheek before walking out of the room.
~~~
For as often as Sirius shouted about breaking the rules on the Express before running off, usually while waving a toy weapon around—Dan Heng never knew how much of a headache children could be, nevertheless his own child—he did tend to listen while out exploring worlds.
Mostly. He was still a child. Stelle’s child, to be more precise.
They made it to Bailu’s with only one little “drifter” incident, and trouble was thankfully averted since Dan Heng was able to catch hold of Sirius’s hand before he could go explore the boxes of the freight area.
“He’s your son,” he’d whispered under his breath to Stelle.
“Proudly,” she’d returned, bumping her shoulder against his.
As tired as he was at times, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
When they got to Bailu’s house, Sirius was the one to knock on the door. A door that was soon thrown open by a very excited vidyadhara.
“My favorite nephew!” Bailu cried, instantly sweeping Sirius into a hug.
Giggling all the while, Sirius threw his arms around Bailu and held on tight. “Hi, Auntie!”
His heart warmed at the scene. Bailu had taken every opportunity she possibly could to see Sirius. She came aboard the Express about once a year and ended up staying for about a week, seeing as that was all she could take away from her duties both as High Elder and as the renowned Healer Lady. On the contrary, Stelle and Dan Heng managed to swing by a few times a year, but those visits were much shorter. They had arranged with the sky-faring commission to have the Luofu be a place where the Astral Express could restock supplies. There were a handful of people who were quite happy with this arrangement, Bailu being the loudest of the bunch.
However, seeing as they now had a new restocking landing, they didn’t visit Herta Space Station as frequently, much to the dismay of Asta and Madam Herta, the latter of which couldn’t test the Simulated Universe as frequently.
Dan Heng thought he and Stelle were still testing it plenty, though.
“It’s good to see you guys!” By now, Bailu had put Sirius down and was reaching for Stelle.
Stelle returned Bailu’s hug. “It’s always good to see you.”
Then Bailu turned to Dan Heng.
With a soft grin, he wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to cling to him tightly. "Agreed."
“Glad you guys could make it,” Bailu said, pulling away. “Come on in! I got snacks.”
“Even my favorite?” Sirius asked, eyes shining with hope.
“Of course!” she cried. “You think I wouldn’t have my nephew’s favoritesnacks?”
They all sat down in Bailu’s reception room, where a bunch of snacks had been laid out on the table.
“Hey,” Stelle said, grabbing Sirius’s hand to get his attention. “You get to pick two.”
“Awww,” he whined with a pout.
“Because we’re going to take some home,” Stelle continued. “And if you eat them all now, you won’t have any for later.”
Although his look of disappointment didn’t fade, he relented. “Okay.”
Dan Heng patted his son’s head. “Good choice.”
For a while, they simply caught up. First, it was Sirius telling Bailu all about the adventures he went on, the ones he took with both his parents after everyone else had completed whatever mission they’d been called in for. Adventures he'd only get to take as long as the planet was stable enough for Stelle and Dan Heng's liking, which was far more often than not.
With as much as Sirius loved those outings exploring as a family, Dan Heng never questioned whether raising him on the Express was a bad idea. His son would undoubtedly grow up to be an adventurer, and while he may worry about the trouble his boy would likely get into with his wandering tendencies, there was no doubt Sirius would be a great Nameless.
Then, the topic shifted to Stelle and Dan Heng’s missions. He left most of the explaining to Stelle, as she was more willing to play the part of a proper storyteller than he was. Instead, he chimed in when necessary to either clarify things or add his own opinions to particular parts of the story.
Bailu was last to share, and her countenance was brief. For the most part, it could be summed up as “I did my duties. I didn’t overeat. And I didn’t run away… too frequently.”
By now, Sirius was anxious to go exploring again. With Auntie Bailu, of course.
“In a minute,” Dan Heng said. “I have one more thing I want to talk about with Aunt Bailu.”
Sirius sighed. “Okay.”
“It won’t take that long,” Stelle assured, already pulling out her phone. “Would you like to play the trotter game while you wait?”
He nodded, reaching out for her phone. “Please,” he added.
Stelle loaded up the rudimentary game that one of the space station workers had recommended. They didn’t often let Sirius play games, preferring to keep them as rewards or treats. What was surprising, though, was that had been Stelle’s idea. Dan Heng had just been more than happy to agree with it.
When the quiet music began to play, she handed it over to Sirius. “Don’t let it get any louder, okay?”
“Thank you,” Sirius said, taking the phone and happily plopping down off to the side.
With him properly distracted from the adult conversation, Dan Heng asked Bailu, “How is the situation amongst the Vidyadhara on the Luofu?”
“Well,” Bailu began, “if you’re talking about the troublesome kind, General Jing Yuan and I are fairly certain we’ve rooted out all the potential problems. There hasn’t been any more slander against you or Sirius from what I’ve heard. For the most part, the people are excited by the prospect of rebuilding our race now.”
At the hesitancy in her tone, Dan Heng quirked a brow at her. “Has there been an issue with your research?”
Bailu sighed, tossing her head back in exhaustion. “I mean… it’s better? Like, it works now, but I’d hardly say it’s the instant effect you two had.”
“As in?”
“Of all the participating couples, we have had two successful births and one more pregnancy. However, neither of the children born were vidyadhara. And at this rate, I hate to say it, but I’m not holding out hope for this third pregnancy, either.”
Three sets of eyes glanced over at Sirius, although Bailu’s gaze lingered the longest.
Stelle spoke quietly, “So he’s still the only…”
Bailu hummed affirmatively. “So far, he’s still our little miracle vidyadhara. The others are two foxian children. The other is likely to be long-life human.” With puffed cheeks, she tapped her fingers against the table. “I’m a little frustrated, but I shouldn’t be. I mean, the fact we got it working after three years of nothing is already forward movement. Who would have thought mixing medicines like that would have been the key?”
Dan Heng sighed. At the beginning of her trials, Bailu had been so careful to inform the surprising number of participating couples of all the known side effects of the fertility treatment, and she’d been even more careful to monitor exactly how much of the aphrodisiac ingredient to put into the doses. Yet, not only had it been unsuccessful for three long years, but none of the vidyadharas had reported having as strong of a reaction as Dan Heng.
Only after many conversations had Dan Heng and Bailu realized that there had been one more medicine at play: the topical healing cream. Considering that Bailu herself had warned them of its potency, they thought that some ingredient in that may well be the contributing factor. Hence, a new round of tests.
After a year, they’d had news of the first successful pregnancy.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Dan Heng encouraged. “The fact that there had been three children born to vidyadhara, even if those children aren’t vidyadhara themselves, is promising. Millennia have gone by without so much as a hint of progress. This is already more than the vidyadhara could have ever hoped for. With more work, I’m certain you will find success. Give yourself time.”
“I know,” Bailu dejectedly agreed. “I’m just anxious. You were able to successfully bear a vidyadhara child your first time. It took all these couples multiple attempts before getting pregnant, only to bear the mother’s race.”
Dan Heng’s brows furrowed. “The couples all consist of male vidyadhara with women of other races?”
Bailu nodded. “Yes. No female vidyadhara has gotten pregnant yet, whether it be with vidyadharan partners or other races. So this fertility experiment is far from complete. I haven’t deduced what exactly is at play or what is happening to change things for the male vidyadhara. And what if the female vidyadhara require a different fertility treatment entirely?” At that point, Bailu dropped her head on the table, groaning in frustration. “And there’s no other research to help me. I’m the forefront.”
“You’ll get there,” Stelle encouraged, reaching out to take Bailu’s hand. “Like Dan Heng said, you’re the first person to get results in millennia. Be proud of what you’re accomplishing.”
Dan Heng nodded. “You are young, and this experiment is still in its early stages. While the clan is far smaller than it once was, we are not so desperate that this is a race against the clock. It is in everyone’s best interest that you take your time to do your experiments properly and perfect it.”
“I know,” Bailu said, raising her head from the table. “But with this breakthrough, everyone is counting on me. I’m the High Elder of the Vidyadhara. It’s my duty.”
“Bailu,” Dan Heng cut in. “It is your duty to help your people in whatever capacity you can. It is not your duty to completely solve a problem that has gone unsolved since the beginning of our race. I reiterate: take your time; do this properly. Record every experiment and result you make and communicate with others to help advance your research. Already, you are a hero to the vidyadhara for opening a door for the preservation of our race. Do not belittle yourself or your efforts thus far.”
Glassy tears welled up in Bailu’s eyes. “Dan Heng.” Then she rounded the table and lunged at him in a hug.
He returned the gesture, hoping to calm the stressed vidyadhara.
“Hey.” Stelle poked Bailu’s side. “Don’t forget you didn’t just help us, but three vidyadhara were able to become dads because of your efforts. To them, that probably means the world, even if they didn’t have vidyadhara children.”
“You think?” Bailu asked, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Yes,” Dan Heng confirmed, sparing a quick glance at Sirius just as he did a happy little fist pump over his game. “Take my word for it: they are undoubtedly thankful beyond words for their children.”
~~~
“Stay close to Aunt Bailu!” Stelle called out, watching as one child and one child-at-heart ran off down Aurum Alley.
“I promise!” Sirius called back.
Stelle was only convinced when Bailu took hold of Sirius’s hand and continued running.
“It’s like watching two children,” Dan Heng muttered.
“Considering how many times I’ve had to literally chase down Bailu, I fully agree.”
Dan Heng shook his head tiredly.
“Hey!”
Stelle turned towards the voice, only to see a group of familiar people waving over to her.
“Where’s the li’l pipsqueak?!” Guinaifen yelled.
“Somewhere,” Stelle sassily returned, a grin splitting her face.
“Go say hi,” Dan Heng encouraged. “I’m going to follow after them. I know Bailu stated that she’s confident all the troublemakers have been rooted out, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Thanks.” Stelle gave his hand one last squeeze of appreciation before heading over to the former ghost-hunting squad. “Long time, no see!”
“To be fair,” Huohuo said, “you are quite busy these days.”
“I still can’t believe you replicated,” Tail sassed. “One of you is more than enough.”
Stelle grimaced. “It wasn’t exactly intentional.”
“Well, guess that serves you right.”
“Be nice!” Huohuo warned.
“Since when do you get to boss me around.”
“S-since I’ve grown up without you.”
Tail let out a long-suffering sigh. “Leave you alone for a matter of days years ago, and you never get over it.”
Stelle chuckled. Seemed like the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
“So what’s up?” Guinaifen asked, pushing out a chair from the table and motioning for Stelle to sit. “How’s being a mom these days.”
For a short while, they simply caught up, Stelle enjoying the girl time. She told them of all her adventures while they filled her in on their chaotic lives as well.
“Mom!”
Automatically, Stelle turned towards the call, watching as Sirius scurried up to her.
“Found you!” he said, slamming his hands against her leg as though he’d just caught her while playing tag. “Auntie Bailu said you disappeared and we should find you!”
“Look who it is!” Guinaifen said, standing up so as to get a better look at Sirius over the table. “Bet you don’t remember me, do you?”
Sirius shook his head.
Stelle pulled Sirius into her lap, introducing him to everyone at the table. “Once upon a time,” she explained. “I used to hunt ghosts with them."
His sparkling eyes turned to her. “Ghosts?”
“Yeah!” Guinaifen said, already shifting into storyteller mode. “You want to hear a super awesome story?”
Excitedly, he nodded.
Hence, they listened to Guinaifen spin her tall tale of their old adventures, Sushang hopping in to correct embellishments while Huohuo helped explain the more technical details with the assistance of Tail.
By the end, Sirius was awestruck. “Mommy!” he said, his eyes sparkling but his tone very serious. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like you!”
A proud warmth bubbled up in her chest. “You’ll have the chance to go on your own adventures someday,” she assured. “New ones that Mommy and Daddy weren’t able to find.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“See,” Tail complained, turning to Huohuo. “Why couldn’t I have been stuck with a kid like him instead of this coward?”
“I’m not a coward,” Huohuo countered. “Don’t be so mean!”
Tail sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Guess it’s fate. You’d be nothing without me.”
She pouted in protest but said nothing.
“Not that I want to cut things short, but it’s getting late,” Stelle said. “We should head out, but it was great seeing you guys again.”
“Thanks for stopping by!” Sushang said. “It was nice catching up again.”
“For sure,” Guinaifen chirped.
“Where are you off to now?” Huohuo inquired. “If you’re free, I know Xueyi and Hanya would like to see you again.”
Sushang chimed in, “And I know Yanqing said he wanted to meet Sirius again. He was really excited to see how far he’s progressed.”
“We have plans to see them tomorrow,” Dan Heng spoke up. “I’m sure Sirius would like to show Yanqing how he’s using his spear.”
Sirius nodded, very serious. “I’ve been working very hard, like Mr. Yanqing told me to.”
“You have,” Dan Heng agreed, patting Sirius on the head.
The boy beamed under the attention.
With one last round of goodbyes, the vidyadhara family left the ghost-hunting squad.
“It’s about time for dinner,” Bailu said. “If you want to grab something here, I’ll pay… this time.”
Stelle chuckled. “Well, if it’s on you, then I don’t see why not.”
“I’d like to give Himeko and Welt time alone for now,” Dan Heng spoke up. “They are kind enough to put up with the children, but I’m sure they would appreciate some peace and quiet.”
A true statement, even if it had never been officially confirmed. Welt, Himeko, and Pom-pom had all taken the arrival of the unexpected Sirius in stride, even happily claiming him as family. However, that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve as much child-free time as possible. Another certain Astral Express duo felt the same.
Speaking of which... “Wonder where the others are.”
“We ran into them earlier,” Dan Heng said. “Oh, they’re right there.”
Stelle turned around to look where Dan Heng was pointing, only to see a particular family of four sitting at a table nearby. Of course, no one had been surprised that this was the end result for March and Caelus, but Stelle could have done without being in the middle of their little mutually-crushing mess. March had privately admitted she was hesitant to ask Caelus out because she wanted to be the one to be asked out like a romantic fantasy she liked reading. Then Caelus had been slow to realize his feelings in the first place and then even slower to realize March had a crush on him back. It took Stelle way too much time to convince Caelus to make a freaking move so she didn’t have to sit in the middle any longer.
Although, Stelle had to wonder what was worse: the pre-confession confusion or the disgustingly snuggly couple they’d become afterward.
Then came the wild surprise of the duo coming back from a mission and admitting they’d accidentally gotten married. Apparently, they’d found themselves in the middle of a wedding custom on a planet they visited and accidentally ended up as husband and wife. Despite getting questions of if the marriage was legally binding and if they could annul it, neither seemed particularly inclined to fight it. Hence, from that day on, they were married. March moved into Caelus’s room at the opposite end of what was now deemed the “family car”, seeing as it held the two married couples and one child, and that was that.
From there, one thing led to another, and next thing Stelle knew, she was stuck in a very familiar scene involving a trashcan, a distraught husband, and the couple’s friend running to grab water. Only, Stelle was fortunate enough to be the one on the outside looking in when it came to March’s morning sickness. Stelle hadn’t felt phenomenal, but she severely sympathized with March, who blamed her absolutely miserable pregnancy on the fact she was carrying twins.
March’s vehement protests of “never again” came to Stelle’s mind.
Caelus was the first to spy them, and he gave them a wave that Stelle returned. March turned her attention towards them, only to brighten and wave as well. “Hey! I’d say it’s a coincidence to see you here, but I’m guessing we both have the same idea.”
“That Aurum Alley has the best food?” Stelle offered.
“Well… yeah, that too.”
Stelle chuckled. “Manage to run off the twin’s energy?” she asked, watching as said twins finally caught sight of her, only to abandon plates in favor of running up to their aunt and uncle.
March released a longsuffering groan.
“I’m assuming that’s a no.” Turning to the little two-year-old boy and girl that had run up to her, Stelle booped both of them on their nose. “You two aren’t supposed to run off.”
“At least it’s just to you,” March lamented, following after the twins. Behind her, Caelus collected their empty plates to throw away. “I’ve already yelled at them too many times today.”
“You have two in the terrible twos. What did you expect?”
“Not like that was the plan!” March defended. “Besides, Sirius seemed more well-behaved at their age.”
“That’s what you saw,” Stelle countered. “It wasn’t always the case.”
“Still,” March sighed. “After helping you with him, I thought this would be easier.”
“Give yourself some credit,” Dan Heng assured. “You have two to contend with.”
“Well, guess I’ll take the sympathy where I can get it.”
“They’ll grow out of it,” Dan Heng said. “Maybe.”
March made a show of crossing her fingers.
Caelus returned by then, siding up to March. “You finish eating yet?” he asked Stelle.
Stelle shook her head. “I ran into some old friends and got caught up chatting. We were just finding a place to eat.”
Bailu huffed proudly. “Like you have to find anything with me around. I know all the best spots.”
“Then we’ll let you go,” Caelus said. “I was gonna suggest walking back together if you’d finished.”
“We’ll bid you a good evening now,” Dan Heng said. “I have the feeling you two will be trying to get the twins down by the time we get back.”
“If they calm down in the first place,” March grumbled. “I never expected two to be this much of a handful.”
“Yeah, but look on the bright side,” Caelus added on. “They can entertain themselves perfectly well together.”
“Until they start colluding,” Stelle tacked on with a smirk.
Guilty, Caelus shot a finger at her. “Yeah, that.”
“Which is exactly what I’m afraid of,” March dryly responded.
“Daddy, daddy!” their little boy cried, reaching up to Caelus. “Fly!”
“Fly!” their little girl echoed.
“Fly?” Caelus exaggeratedly asked. “You want to fly?”
“Fly!” They repeated sticking out their arms and running circles around him.
March shot a flat look at Stelle. “I swear we ran them out.”
Stelle snorted. “Your kids don’t stop.”
“No, they don’t.”
They watched as Caelus then grabbed the twins by the straps of their overalls and lifted them into the air as though he was carrying two tote bags. The duo squealed as they stuck their arms out.
“We’re gonna head out,” Caelus said, already walking away.
“Good luck!” Stelle said, waving them off.
“Have a good evening!” March said, returning the gesture as she walked towards her husband. “See you back on the Express.”
“See you,” Dan Heng returned.
“Geez,” Bailu muttered as she watched the family vanish in the crowd. “Two’s a handful.”
“They are,” Stelle answered. “Don’t tell March I said this, but she secretly loves the fact she had twins.” The exact sentiment being along the lines of ‘two for the price of one because I’m done.’
“I guess that’s one of those things you can’t account for,” Bailu dismissed with a shrug. “It must be weird to grow up with a sibling your age, though.”
“Vidyadhara grow up far differently than most races,” Dan Heng cut in. “I’d say the way we are raised is the oddity.”
“Meh." Bailu shrugged it off. “Anywho, I’m starving. Where do you want to go?”
While they soon started debating about which food stall to go to first, Stelle’s mind started drifting. Although her childhood memories were foggy clips at best, there were a few moments that Caelus had reminded her of. She didn’t feel it was a stretch to assume she was always thankful to have him around. Not for the first time did Stelle look to Sirius and wonder how different things would be if he had a sibling.
But then again, things were already far different for him than her childhood. She may have had Kafka as a parental figure with Blade somewhere in the background, but she wouldn’t say she had parents. Sirius’s childhood would already be so different from her and Dan Heng's. Besides, he was a miracle child already, one that shouldn’t have even happened in the first place.
But he had.
And, if she really thought about it—
“Hey!” Bailu called out, waking Stelle out of her reverie. It was only then did she realize she’d fallen behind. “Hurry up!”
“Coming,” Stelle called back, taking a few quick steps to catch up.
“Something on your mind?” Dan Heng asked, reaching for her hand.
“Nothing important,” she lied, slipping her hand into his.
Although he didn’t look convinced, he didn’t press. He simply gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
“Unless you’re thinking of food,” Bailu quipped. “The thinking can wait until later. I’ll have to get back to work once you leave.”
“Did you put off your High Elder duties again?” Dan Heng warned.
“I’ve got more pressing matters!” she argued. “My research is way more interesting!”
Yes, her research. Stelle couldn’t help but wonder if she could help with that once again.
~~~
After saying goodbye to Bailu, they headed home. Dan Heng ended up having to carry an exhausted Sirius most of the way home. Between the busy day and his bedtime being right around the corner, the boy was barely able to keep his eyes open.
Yet, after they’d gotten home and had him change into his pajamas—a trotter onesie that Topaz had given them—the bleary-eyed boy still held out a picture book. “Story?”
Dan Heng only once made the mistake of saying “maybe not tonight.” That had ended with Sirius crying himself to sleep. It was just better for him to fall asleep mid-story rather than refuse his right to open a book before bed.
“Okay,” Dan Heng caved. “Do you want Mom or Dad to read to you?”
“Mommy does the voices.”
Stelle smirked. “Yeah, Mommy does the voices,” she repeated, shooting Dan Heng a smug wink.
With an amused huff, Dan Heng pat Sirius’s head. “Okay. Then I’ll let Mom read to you. Good night.”
Sirius wrapped his arms around Dan Heng’s neck, but his hug was weak with exhaustion. “Night-night.”
After watching Sirius settle into bed cuddling Hook's teddy bear to his chest while Stelle perched on the edge with a book in hand, Dan Heng slipped out of the room. He had some notes he wanted to record anyway. Sirius wasn’t the only one who liked to open books before bed, after all.
After quickly changing into his nightclothes, he reached for his notebook, opting to lounge on the bed instead of sitting in a chair tonight. For a while, he lost himself in thought as he jotted things down, only to be brought back to reality when the door to the room opened. He hurried to scribble down the rest of his thoughts while Stelle headed over to the dresser for her nightclothes.
His writing was messy, but at least he’d finished. Closing his notebook, he turned to drop it on the nightstand. “I’m going to guess Sirius—”
Stelle’s hands shot out past his head, slamming against the headboard as she straddled him. “I want another baby.”
Well... so much for finishing that thought.
Head empty, Dan Heng blinked a few times while trying to get his mind to restart. “W-what?”
“I want another baby,” Stelle easily repeated. She then pulled one of her hands away from the headboard, flashing a little foil-wrapped square in front of his face.
It took him far too long to realize what exactly that was. “You… asked Bailu for that?”
Nodding, Stelle leaned back to sit on his lap. “Yeah. I did.”
Dan Heng stared at the square for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order before asking, “What brought this on?”
She shrugged. “I just thought it would be nice for Sirius to have a sibling, you know? Like March and Caelus’ twins. But I guess it’s not the same since there’d be a gap between them…” Her brow furrowed as she tentatively bit her lip. “Do you… not want to?”
He inhaled, opening his mouth to answer only for words to fail him. After a second, he released that tense breath. “It’s not that,” he said, his mind processing things at warp speed.
“Sorry,” Stelle muttered, fiddling with the medicine square in her hands. “I forgot how badly you felt after this. It didn’t hit me you might not want to repeat—”
“One night of that is nothing compared to what you have to endure,” he cut in. True, he didn’t exactly want to subject himself to feeling that way again if he didn’t have to, but this would be an exception he was willing to make.
Stelle frowned worriedly. “Then do you not want another kid?”
He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. “I just… never thought we’d have another.” Although, having talked with Bailu today, maybe it was a mistake on his part to have written it off as impossible. Clearly Bailu’s medicine has been successful for others, so why wouldn’t it have worked again for them when they were the first successful case in the first place? “You just caught me off-guard. That’s all.”
“So, would you want another?” she asked, her eyes glittering with hope.
“I…” That was a good question. Yes, he loved Sirius, but was he ready to go through the sleepless nights and diaper changes and toddler phase all over again? Was he ready to split his attention between two children the way March and Caelus did? These were questions he never thought he’d have to think about.
Apparently, it didn’t matter if it was the first or second kid, Dan Heng never thought he’d have a chance to grow his family twice.
“Just one more?” Stelle added on when Dan Heng remained silent. “That puts us each in charge of one kid at a time.”
“What if we’re surprised like Caelus and March and end up with twins?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he even thought it through, but it was a valid question. “You and Caelus claim to share DNA, which would mean you are as much at risk for having twins as he is.”
“Then… I guess we have twins,” she said with a shrug.
“And you’re okay with that?”
Confidently, she nodded. “We can do it. But only if you’re up for it, too.”
Again, his eyes were drawn to the little square of medicine, one that promised to change his future once again should he take it. The question was… would that really be so bad? Having another kid to raise, to follow him around and call him Dad. Yes, it would be another child to keep an eye on, but… what was one more? The longer he thought about the possibility, the less opposed to the prospect he became.
Finally settling on a decision, he wrapped his arms around Stelle's waist, pulling her close. “I am happy to have a family with you, whatever it looks like.”
Her expression brightened, her gold eyes glittering like starlight, and it convinced him he was making the right choice. “So we can try?”
He took the medicinal square from his over-eager wife, tossing it over on her nightstand. “Not tonight.”
“Darn.”
“It’s not your fertile window.”
She quirked a brow at him. “Do I want to know how you know that?”
“I’m married to you. I know your cycle just as well as you do. Maybe slightly less.”
Amused, she accepted his answer with a sigh. “I shouldn’t be surprised considering your hobby is charting data.”
“It has its uses.”
“I suppose so.”
~~~
Stelle didn’t think she’d ever need one of these, but here she was, in the bathroom with a pregnancy test in hand. It had been just over a month since their little escapade, and Stelle realized that she was late. Hence, after they completed their trailblazing mission, they ran to the nearest store to grab a test.
Now they were back on the Express, Dan Heng standing outside the bathroom while Stelle put the test face down on the counter as she waited for the result.
After washing her hands, she opened the door, only for Dan Heng to instantly and eagerly look to her for an answer.
“You want to look at the test together?”
With a single nod, Dan Heng followed her into the bathroom. In the small space, the nervous tension felt heavier than it should. Never had Stelle thought they’d be in the position of anxiously awaiting the result of a pregnancy test with the potential of it being positive.
Yet, here they were.
Stelle reached for the test, steadying herself with a breath. “Three, two, one.”
And she flipped it over.
Her heart started racing.
“It’s positive.”
“I’m pregnant.”
They looked at each other, their matching expressions of surprise only lasting a moment before they broke into disbelieving smiles.
“You know,” Stelle began, her hands jittery with a mix of nerves and excitement, “this is way easier to accept the second time around.”
Dan Heng huffed. “Maybe a little. But… it doesn’t feel quite real yet.”
“Give it a few days to sink in,” Stelle assured, reaching out to grab his hand.
His fingers wrapped around her hand, holding it tightly. “I think I’ll still be in awe, no matter how much time passes. There are moments when I feel the fact Sirius even exists is… unreal.”
Using their clasped hands, Stelle pulled Dan Heng a step closer so she could wrap her free arm around him.
He returned the gesture, using his free hand to cradle her head, bringing their foreheads together. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“My family.”
“Our family,” Stelle lightly corrected.
“Yes," he whispered, voice full of tender affection. "Our family.”
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Ch 7 - The Fairy Godparents Job
Series Rewrite Masterlist
Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader
Description: Another crooked financial guy, but this time under house arrest. Helping his son into the spotlight must be the play here.
Words: 4768
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nate texted the group chat letting us know that he was meeting with a client and to meet for briefing. I stepped into his apartment to see that Eliot was already in the living room reading a magazine. I greeted him and sat on the far side of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me.
He greeted me with a nod, but nothing more.
Hardison walked in and started showing Eliot a phone sized device that he said was actually a metal detector. He started explaining how it worked, but I didn’t understand much. It was clear that Eliot wasn’t listening.
“Are you even listening?” Hardison asked after stopping mid-spiel.
Eliot looked up from his magazine, “yeah.”
“Well, what did I say?”
“You’re explaining how you’re still a virgin?”
I couldn’t stop the short laugh that escaped me. I noticed it cracked a smile out of Eliot before he turned back to his magazine. Hardison looked at me with betrayal.
“I’m sorry, Hardison, that’s super cool, but I don’t understand what you’re saying… and it was a little funny…”
“Woman-”
Nate walked in with Parker cutting off whatever he was going to rebuff with.
“Talking to clients, you’re supposed to sympathize,” Nate seemed to be explaining to her.
“I told you not to take her,” Eliot said.
“Well, you were right. Where’s Sophie?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, we’re not waiting,” Nate said as he sat down, “let's go, let’s start.”
Hardison took over researching this mark as I was busy with a project. He told us all about Daniel Fowler, our mark. He posed as a private investor, but just stole people’s money, including our client, a small clinic set to shut down because of him. The whole firm was busted as a Ponzi scheme and the FBI froze all of his assets and put him on house arrest.
“I’m talking corporate accounts, personal accounts, real estate holdings… anything on planet Earth with this dude’s name on it is on ice,” Hardison explained.
“FBI’s very thorough, huh?” Eliot asked.
“Isn’t this going to be a problem for us though?” I asked, “I mean, what are we gonna do if he’s this locked up?”
Hardison had a slight smirk on his face, “Wait for it…” he pointed at Parker.
“What’d they miss?” she asked, humoring him.
“Oh…” a couple of screens came up with a press of a button, “Twenty million dollars. Moved it off the books right before the warrants came down.”
“He knew the end was near and he was getting ready to bolt,” Nate said. “Tell me something, where was Fowler arrested?”
“Oh, in his apartment,” Hardison answered, “packing for his “business trip” to the Maldives.”
Sophie walked in then, but she didn’t look as chipper as she usually did. She didn’t say anything as she walked to the kitchen.
“You see, he’d need it light, portable, close at hand,” Nate thought out loud, “that twenty million is in his apartment.”
“Yeah, but y/n brought up a good point,” Eliot added, “This guy’s on house arrest, man. I mean, he’s practically living with the FBI.”
“The problem is not getting into the apartment,” Sophie interjected, “but getting them out.”
There was a moment of awkwards silence before Nate asked, “where were ya?”
“Oh. I was running an errand,” Sophie stuttered noncommittally.
“Weren’t you with the boyfriend?” Parker asked innocently.
“Parker” I whispered with a pointed look.
She had the grace to look a little guilty.
“So what are the terms of his house arrest?” Sophie changed the subject.
Hardison answered, “Fowler’s confined to his six million dollar penthouse overlooking the Charles River.”
“That’s a rough punishment, huh?” Eliot asked sarcastically.
“The whole place is outfitted with 24/7 surveillance so the Feds can keep an eye on him.” Hardison pointed his remote at the screen, “now… we can too.”
The screen showed a feed of Fowler’s apartment with him lying on the couch. We all smiled at him when he continued.
“I piggybacked the wireless feed.”
“Still,” Sophie sat on the back of the couch behind me, “for us to get in and search the place, we got to get rid of Fowler.”
“Now there are three general exceptions for house arrest,” Nate starts. “There’s personal safety, death of a relative, and family events.”
“Personal safety? We could burn the apartment down,” Eliot suggests.
Parker cheered and volunteered.
“Or death of a relative…” He continued.
Nate disregarded them, “Who is that?”
A kid and a woman crossed the screen.
“Oh, the kid. The kid is from her first marriage, Widmark.”
“I’m sorry what?” I asked him.
“Widmark?” Eliot emphasized.
“Rich people, man,” Hardison replied.
“Can you punch in on that, please?” Nate asked.
Hardison turned up the volume of the screen so we could hear what was being said. We watched as the kid was yelled at for apparently losing a cell phone. The adults stormed off, leaving him alone in the living room.
“Wow, okay. What do we have on the kid?” Nate asked.
Hardison described Widmark. There was nothing particularly exceptional about him, 10 years old, in the fifth grade, no extracurricular activities. The only thing interesting about him on record is that he was allergic to strawberries.
“Judges give out day passes for family events,” Nate reiterated, “it’s one of the three things right? So, Fowler is going to ask for one, so he doesn’t miss out on his kid’s big debut.”
“Wait,” I said, “What is he debuting as?”
Nate thought for a moment, “yeah, I don’t know. But we’re gonna steal his school and find out.”
Hardison was in charge of getting rid of the current principal, which he did quite easily with a couple of plane tickets. Nate was to pose as the new headmaster, with Sophie and Eliot his head teachers of “mind und body.” The parents weren’t too happy at first when they found out, but they were soon pacified enough for them to get to work. Meanwhile, Parker and Hardison were securing an apartment in the same building as the Fowlers so they had easier access to the penthouse.
I hung out in the headmaster’s office while Nate, Sophie, and Eliot spoke to the parents.
“Hardison and Parker are all set, now all we gotta do is give Widmark a triumph worth a day pass,” Nate said, strolling in.
“A triumph? In what?” Sophie asked, looking at his file, “I mean, in five years this kid hasn’t joined a club, he hasn’t played a sport…”
“I gotta be honest with ya, I don’t know how I feel about using the kid to get a mark,” Eliot commented.
“We’re not using him. I mean, every kid is good at something,” Nate insisted. “We just gotta draw Widmark out, give him his moment to shine.”
“Oh, so, we’ll be like his fairy godparents,” Sophie concluded.
“Exactly,” Nate said, “I mean, come one, look at this: cushy private school, no gunrunners, mob bosses, Interpol. This is a breeze!”
“Wait, you guys have dealt with all that before?” I asked, finally speaking up.
Nate nodded at me, “We got one week before the clinic closes for good… Athletics, academics…” he pointed at me, “this should be a good job for you to learn with. I want you to shadow Eliot and Sophie, work on staying in character. Whatever character you choose.” He turned back to address us as a group, “let's go get Widmark the win, alright?”
I followed Eliot first as he had Widmark in his class. He introduced himself to the class before gesturing to me to do the same.
“Hello everyone, you can call me Ms. Jenny. I’m going to be accompanying your class here and there for this upcoming week, let me know if you need anything.” I smiled at all of them, making a particular effort to make eye contact with Widmark.
Eliot directed the class to grab fencing equipment and to put it on before turning to me with a bit of humor, “Ms. Jenny? A little simple… are you even playing a character?”
I stuck my tongue out at him, “I’m working on it. It’s easier to remember than your name Mr… blah blah blah.”
“It’s Mr. Brewer, it’s not that hard.” He smirked at me, “I thought you said you saw the fun of this in Nebraska?”
“I do! It's just…” I bit my lip, “It makes me nervous, too, okay? This is so new and… I’m not sure I know how to do all of this.”
His smirk softened to a smile, “That’s okay, this’ll be a good run for ya. You’ll get the hang of it, but first,” he handed me a fencing sword, “help me teach these guys how to fence.”
He walked away towards the kids, and I followed quickly after, “I don’t know how to do that either.”
Eliot gave a brief demonstration, with me being mostly a prop. It was then time for the kids to try.
“Alright Widmark, get on the line, you’re up.”
Widmark looked around as if Eliot had not just asked him.
“Widmark, come on,” I urged him.
“Get on the line,” Eliot repeated, “Show ‘em what you got, man.”
Widmark went to stand on the line, but a taller boy tripped him. I went to help Widmark up from the floor.
Eliot immediately jumped in, “Hey! Take your helmet off. What’s your name?”
The boy complied, “Skylar Sanford.”
I immediately rolled my eyes at his tone.
“Skylar?” Eliot asked. After the boy affirmed he said, “Is that a boy’s name? Don’t do that again.”
He took Skylar and put him against Widmark on the mat. Widmark had to be directed to put his helmet on, but struggled and put it on backwards.
“Oh, Widmark-” I tried to correct him as the kids started to laugh, but Eliot beat me to it.
“What are you doing?” Eliot asked him after telling the class not to laugh. “There’s girls here. You’re better than that. Turn your hat around.”
Once Widmark did as he was told, Eliot started the match. It did not last long. Skylar quickly overpowered him, the buzzer indicating a hit and point ringing in my ears.
Strike one on helping Widmark.
Next up was Sophie with a spelling bee to prep for the state spelling bee next week. She held a tryout for a competition on Friday for the schools best spellers, plus Widmark. It all seemed to be going well with the words clearly marked in Widmark’s favor. Unfortunately there was one girl that rose to the challenge. Sophie was determined to get her to break, but I could see that it was not happening easily, if at all. I finally had to take a break and stepped out, running into Eliot again.
“What are you doing out here? Thought you were shadowing Sophie?” He asked me.
I leaned against the hallway wall, “I was, but she’s doing a spelling bee and there’s a girl in there spelling words I didn’t even know existed. It’s giving me a headache.”
Eliot sighed, “Another strike?”
I nodded, “Another strike.”
We just looked at each other for a minute causing me to remember something that I had been meaning to talk to him about, but we hadn’t been alone since after the previous job.
“Hey, uh,” I spoke up before he walked away, “I’ve been meaning to… I don’t know. It’s just, after the last job, I mentioned what you did for that kid, it seemed to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to apologize, I guess.”
He tilted his head at me before he responded, “Oh, uh, no you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wasn’t prepared. I didn’t think anyone heard about that…”
“I don’t think anyone else did, to be honest. I won’t bring stuff up like that again though if you don’t want me to.”
“No, not at all. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t…” He trailed off, but smiled. “We’re good, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.”
The bell rang and kids started to flow out into the hallway. He nodded his head down the hallway signaling that he had to go and I waved him off. I went to join Sophie in the auditorium when I heard her talking with Widmark.
“I try hard, all the time,” Widmark said, “but, no matter how much I want something, it never happens.”
“Oh sweetie,” Sophie replied, “What do you want?”
“I don’t know… I just,” Widmark frowned, “I want someone to like me. Does that get easier when you’re a grownup?”
I shook my head no, just to myself when Sophie answered him.
“Um, no. I don’t think it does.”
“You’re nice,” Widmark said, “but weird.”
Sophie shewed him off to class and he walked by me, “bye Ms. Jenny.”
“Bye Widmark,” I smiled at him as he walked off. I looked at Sophie once he left, and sighed.
This may be harder than we thought.
We met back up at Nate’s apartment this time, but I had snacks from mine, which I thought was needed in this situation. Hardison and Parker recounted their experience setting up equipment at the Fowler’s place.
“Let me just, can I get this straight?” Nate started, pacing around my kitchen, “Ok, alright, you two, you couldn’t rig a gym class and a spelling bee.” He turned towards Hardison and Parker, “and you two, you ran into the only FBI agents on the planet that recognize you?” He turned towards me, “what did you do?”
I raised my hands, full of chips, “I’m just shadowing.”
“I gotta be honest with you,” Eliot said, “I think we broke the kid even more.”
“We are the worst fairy godparents in the world!” Sophie exclaimed, dropping her spoon in her cup.
“Listen, we’ve still got to get Fowler out of the apartment so we can get in.”
“Yeah, except now, when he leaves there’ll be somebody waiting to kill him.”
“Can’t we use that? Isn’t that personal safety or whatever?” I asked, my mouth full.
“No,” Nate replied.
“Man, one of his victims wants payback more than he wants to be paid back,” Hardison said.
“Well, one of you two can identify the gunman, right?” Eliot asked.
“Yeah, sure. He stopped and let me take a picture of him as I was chasing him.”
“You know what? I’ve been around little kids all day, I don’t need to come home and do all this crap.”
“I’ve been in this pink shirt and these tight plaid pants, these old Webster loafers, this girl walking on my back…” Hardison went on as Parker handed Eliot her sketch pad.
“Is this the guy?” he asked, and I walked over to look at the drawing.
She hummed an affirmative.
The drawing was very detailed showing the face of a man, dark hair, slightly sunken eyes, drawn with a pen.
“See?” Eliot tossed the pad at Hardison.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Hardison remarked.
“I thought everyone could do that,” Parker replied.
I shook my head, “No Parker, not everyone can do that, that’s some talent you have there.”
She smiled at me proudly before Nate continued.
“Okay, alright, keep an eye on him. In the meantime, if they think you’re real FBI, be real FBI. I mean, use it to case the apartment.”
“So, I’m out of this and I’m on FBI detail with Parker and Hardison then,” Eliot concluded.
“Actually, no. I need you to be Coach Brewer.”
“There’s an armed gunman out there,” Eliot insisted, “you want me in the gym with kids named Skylar and Indigo?”
“Where did Coach Brewer go?” Nate raised the question.
“Shut up,” Sophie said, urging us to listen to the surveillance feed on the TVs.
Widmark was singing to himself, and was doing a pretty good job.
“The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of a king,” Sophie said, excitedly. I assumed she was quoting something, but I didn’t ask.
We all looked at each other for a moment before Nate smiled, “Sophie, how long would it take you to stage a musical?”
“Six weeks,” she answered.
“You have two days.”
I watched as the next day, Sophie lined up the kids, and instructed them to sing their science fair projects. When Widmark went, he wasn’t too bad, but his project was about mold, so kind of gross. Sophie encouraged him, and insisted he sing in the finale.
I smiled at him from the auditorium seats, and he had a slight smile himself.
The parents were outraged that this kid, this child, was to be in the starring role when his father had done so much to all of the parents, ripping them off. Nate explained them away, saying it was based on merit, and that his father should have nothing to do with it. He was right of course, it angered me that he had to explain that at all. This poor kid.
“Could you just please try to maybe not make this so difficult?” Nate asked Sophie.
“I can’t take you seriously with that dead cat on your head” Sophie replied.
Nate looked at me before he sat down next to her, but I only shrugged in agreement, his hair was atrocious.
“Eliot had trouble adjusting, alright, but he found a way to make his style work in this setting.”
I recalled the last class I watched him in, he had changed from private school style athletics to combat. He was enjoying it more than he let on.
“Look,” Sophie replied, “it’s the best I could manage under such short notice. The props are made, the kids have memorized their presentations, I’m just setting it to a bit of music.”
“Listen, I mean, let’s not forget why we’re here. Let’s not lose focus. The object is to get Fowler out of his apartment, not…”
“What, not Widmark, right? He’s just the bait.”
“Well that’s not fair.”
“You’re right Nate,” I cut in, “it’s not fair. It’s not fair to Widmark, this whole situation isn’t fair to him. The way people see him? His dad thinks he’s a loser, his mom sees him like a little baby, his classmates see him as the kid whose dad is the Grinch, who took everything. He…”
Sophie finished for me, “we just want people to see him as he really is.”
“He deserves that,” I added, “Everyone deserves that.”
The night of the musical was not going as smoothly as we had hoped. Hardison was going to be the one breaking into the apartment instead of Parker because of an FBI agent with a crush, and Widmark wasn’t on his musical game. I was helping direct kids to setting up, but I was getting nervous. It all came to a head when Sophie said she couldn’t find Widmark at all. I abandoned my post to help her look.
We finally found him in the bathroom, crying to himself.
“Widmark, you can’t let them win,” Sophie told him, “you can’t show them they’re getting to you.”
Nate spoke through the comms, “Sophie, no. Just talk to him, don’t tell him what to do or who to be. Just talk.”
Sophie lost her American accent, “I’m sorry Widmark.”
“For what?” He asked.
“For trying to con you into being brave. That’s what I do, I’m a bloody con artist. Look, I’m not very good at being honest, not even with my friends.”
Widmark finally came out of the stall and looked between us, “Do you have a lot of friends?”
“No,” we both responded.
I leaned against the sink and looked at him, “Can I tell you a secret Widmark?”
He nodded.
“When I was around your age, I was kind of like you, nobody really liked me, didn’t have any friends. You know who I was in school?”
He shook his head.
I looked at my feet before looking back at him, “I was the kid whose parents died, and that made me the weird one. Luckily that doesn’t mean anything anymore, and we have a few friends now.”
“I used to have friends,” Widmark said, “They don’t talk to me anymore, because of what my stepdad did.”
“That’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, don’t you?” Sophie asked him.
“Then why do they make fun of me?”
“Cause when they look at you, they see him. Just like they only saw my dead parents,” I responded.
“They’re not seeing you for who you really are,” Sophie responded.
Hardison and Parker were talking on comms, trying to get Hardison broken in and past the security, but I quickly tuned them out.
“Did you know I was an actress?” Sophie asked Widmark.
“No, are you good?” he asked.
She hummed, “Well, others don’t seem to think so.”
“Maybe they just can’t see you for who you are,” he concluded.
I kept quiet, thinking that I had my moment, she could have hers.
“You know what they say about acting? They say it’s about telling the truth, about sharing a little part of yourself that people don’t normally see. But, if you don’t- if you don’t really know yourself, then they think you’re lying… I think that’s my problem.”
I reached out and took her hand, comforting her for being vulnerable.
“I’ve been lying for so long that… I don’t even know what the truth is anymore.”
“I don’t want to lie to anybody,” Widmark said.
I laughed a little bit, “No, you don’t Widmark.”
Sophie stood and approached him, “You don’t have to Widmark. What you need to do is you just have to go out there, and be Widmark. Just tell the truth, be who you really are. If you can do that, then I promise you, people will believe in you.”
“Just like we believe in you.” I smiled at him as Sophie and I both exited the bathroom.
We rendezvoused with Eliot backstage.
“Widmark okay?”
“Guess we’re about to find out,” Sophie answered.
The lights dimmed in the auditorium, signaling the show was about to start. Hardison told us on comms that the safe he cracked was empty, cleaned out, giving us a problem, where was the money?
“Hate to tell you this, but that ain’t our biggest problem right now,” Eliot replied.
I turned to him, “What do you mean?”
He pulled me closer to where he was standing and subtly pointed to where he was looking. Above the auditorium stood a man who looked awfully like the drawing Parker made.
“We got company,” Eliot said. “How’d he know Fowler was gonna be here? Only ones who knew were us and the FBI.”
“Yeah, and Fowler himself,” Nate said. “Maybe we were wrong, maybe Fowler isn’t the target.”
“Then who?” Parker asked, then had to recover as she was still technically talking to the FBI agent.
“His FBI handlers. Fowler arranged to have them killed. He’s about to run,” Nate concluded.
“No man,” Hardison rebuffed, “there’s no way he could arrange that. He’s under house arrest. No phone calls, no internet, they’re even reading his mail. How could he arrange a hitman?”
“Let’s ask him,” Eliot answered. He was tracking his movements in the rafters, and pointed me over to Sophie to be a bit out of the way which I obliged.
“Feds confiscated his cell phone,” Hardison said, “They didn’t take Widmarks.”
“Really?” I asked, “What a jerk, he yelled at Widmark for losing that… Can Eliot punch Fowler when this is over? Can I?”
“No,” Nate replied.
“Maybe,” Eliot responded.
“Fowler’s getaway explains the empty safe,” Nate continued, ignoring us, “whatever cash he had on him, he took with him. And… I think I know where to look.”
“Wait,” Parker interjected, “Didn’t you search Fowler before he left?” She asked the agent.
“Of course, nothing on him except for that camera and some tapes.”
“Yeah, well there’s something in that bag, or on those tapes,” Nate insisted. “Sophie, y/n, can you swipe it?”
Sophie was on stage, “yes, I’m a little bit busy here.”
“You want me to do what?” I asked, I was still backstage where it was loud and I couldn’t believe what he was asking me, “I’m making my way to you.”
“Has anybody seen Widmark?” Sophie asked.
“Sophie, the job’s over,” Nate said. “What happens from here on is not our concern. We have other priorities”
“No way, no, no. The clinic isn’t the only victim here, I didn’t prop up this boy, just to see him fail. No way. I’m not letting that happen.”
Eliot engaged with the hitman and I tried to ignore the commotion in my ear.
“Uh, Nate?” Hardison said, “This phone has sent a bunch of text messages in the last forty-eight hours to some guy named Skylar.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Skylar’s a kid at this school.”
“Why would Fowler be texting a middle schooler?”
I made my way around the auditorium and stood beside Nate, “what do you want me to do?”
He held his hand up, “Nothing now.” He was looking in the audience, specifically at Skylar’s dad, “he wasn’t texting Skylar, he was texting Skylar’s dad.”
I watched as the man in question walked up towards the stage with a camera. He stumbled and picked up the camera bag next to Fowler, dropping his own.
“Mark Sanford’s an accomplice,” Nate said, “He set up the gunman. He just traded bags with Fowler.”
Hardison wasn’t having it, “No, man. Why would Sanford help Fowler? Isn’t he one of the guys who invested with him?”
I heard Widmark over the comms, “sorry I’m late.”
Sophie responded before putting him on stage, “no, no, you’re right on time.”
Eliot was still fighting the gunman backstage of which Sophie wasn’t happy about.
“Keep it off the stage, you’re gonna ruin his big finale!”
I laughed to myself as I could almost hear Eliot’s eyeroll.
Nate turned to me after Widmark finished his song, of which he did quite well in, and everyone was distracted by the standing ovation, “Wait here.” He walked down the aisle and grabbed the bag by Fowler with the hook of his cane before returning to me.
We turned the corner before opening the bag.
“Ah,” Nate said, looking inside, “Hardison, are you near your computer? I need you to check a name for me.”
“Go ahead.”
“Doug Fineman” Nate said as he opened up a passport from the bag, it had Fowler’s face, but clearly not his name. “Sanford is providing Fowler with a new identity, and a new life waiting for him in…”
I looked over his shoulder, “Bogota?”
Eliot and Sophie grabbed Sanford and took the bag that was previously Fowler’s. Sophie seemed to find something she liked in it and placed it in a tape player, playing it through the entire auditorium.
Out came Sanford’s voice, “I’m just saying you can’t make the returns too consistent. Ten percent growth every year, no matter what the market does? The SEC is going to ask questions.”
Then Fowler replied on tape, “Let me worry about the SEC work.”
“But we have to be careful.”
“My job is to buy off the regulators, your job is to bring in new money. Now this whole thing goes off the rails when you stop doing your job!”
By now Fowler was trying to run through the crowd away from the FBI handlers in the audience. I took the opportunity to step in front of him with my foot outstretched a bit further than necessary, effectively tripping him.
“Oh, Mr. Fowler I’m so sorry,” I apologized with an overt sweetness as the agent handcuffed him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the agent asked him.
Nate approached from behind me with the bag, offering it to the agent, “ja, ja… He dropped this. All of this. I thought his name was Fowler. I don’t know.”
Once the agent took it Nate shrugged and took my arm guiding me away with the illusion of me helping him walk along with his cane.
It sounded like backstage was taken care of with Sandford as the other agent arrested him. The agent made an attempt at flirting with Parker again while doing so, which made me smile. He was cute, I’d give him that, but the things he doesn’t know, especially about Parker, and a certain hacker…
The clinic stayed open, to everyone’s pleasure. I heard that Fowler’s wife and Widmark even worked there. Hopefully he had a better life ahead of him.
Tags: @isoldeahlstrom @kniselle
#eliot spencer x reader#eliot spencer#leverage#rewrite#slow burn#multichapter#nate ford#sophie devereaux#alec hardison#parker#ford!reader
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Jo Jo Jo!
I want to know what Bakugous courting of you was like!! How did he approach you, go about showing his interest 👀 I don’t think I’ve asked about that yet. How many dates do you go on before THE pro hero Dynamight announces he’s not single?
This was a question that I don’t think I’d ever really thought about before, like whenever I think of my self-ship with Bakugou we’ve always just been together?
But I love the idea of falling in love long distance? So maybe we’re in a huge, huge gaming server together and I end up saying something that Bakugou completely disagrees with— so we end up having a back and forth which is 80% banter and 20% serious as we kinda roast each other.
And poor Kirishima (who I don’t even know) has to come in and break it up, with my friends telling me that he’s not worth my energy.
So we both just stay in the server but we don’t talk to each other again after that.
Until a few weeks later I’m talking to Kirishima about the game, and he’s actually so frigging lovely and sweet so when Bakugou sees it, he finds himself getting jealous even though there’s nothing to get jealous over. But he sees me talking about my fave characters and he starts to find himself warming up to me.
And then one night I face reveal and Kirishima messages Bakugou like “dude, she’s hot” but maybe part of him doesn’t believe it’s me or something.
And then he slides into my dms one night when he saw me post something about work being shit or something and he ends up talking to me all night— even though he’s got patrol in a few hours and we know he’s grumpy as fuck with no sleep.
I end up thinking he’s a catfish because when he sends me photographs I have no idea who Dynamight is— but when he says he’s a Pro-Hero and I Google him I don’t believe him for ONE second.
Weeks go by and we end up doing voice calls, exchanging numbers and doing little video chat dates where we have to press play on the movie at the same time or we screen share someone’s laptop to watch or we play video games together. And he orders me takeout, and (reluctantly) let’s me do the same for him— and he asks me out even though we’re thousands of miles away. Sends me huge bouquets of flowers, and content for my games.
Definitely doesn’t announce his relationship to the public until he meets me, but he makes it abundantly clear to everyone and anyone that he’s not looking and he’s not interested. Which has the rumour mill spinning as to why he isn’t interested—
And he’s the one that buys me a plane ticket to go and visit him, so we do the cute meet at the airport hug thing😭
Bakugou is such a tease online though, so he posts the most cryptic photo of us on his Instagram account— and it’s just a pic of me laying on his chest asleep while he takes a photograph in the mirror so all you can see is us laying down together and my hair so the internet basically blows up trying to find out and connect the dots.
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Is it a swarm or a mob?
Hi! So I was meant to make a Fuuta-Muu post, right? And, well, it was meant to be on my main but like. I made this blog! I'm sure as heck gonna use it lol
Anyways, it's primarily about how they communicate, though I touch on other stuff. With that being said, thank you in advance and I hope you enjoy!
First to head the charge, yet always last in line- You guessed it, I'm starting with Fuuta! The guy that, even when trying to do a good deed, comes off as a dick, yet compared to a puppy by the author themself. Now Fuuta seems to be someone who likes communicating in a group, despite how abrasive he comes off in milgram. In that sense, Mikoto's considering Fuuta as attention seeking is spot on!
Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you. You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly. Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here?……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross. Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone. I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right? Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?
He's trying to make a social group he can fall back on, even if it's something as small as commiserating about their situation together. (The way he wants to communicate seems to moreso fall in line with how Mikoto does; granted, with more aggressiveness)
Q.01 What do friends mean to you? Futa: People who get excited about the same things as you
He's stated before that people he likes talking to are ones that can get hyped about the same things as him. This can also be seen in his behaviour in milgram; a prime example is how he interacts with Haruka.
Futa: You said you don’t play any games, right? Do you not watch league or premier either? Haruka: E-eh, I, I don’t understand, what that is…… That… uh, “leeg”? Futa: Huh!? It’s international soccer. It’s normal for guys your age to know stuff like that. What a pain… I really have nothing to talk to you about, huh. Even though we’re around the same age. Also don’t speak to me so formally. It’s gross. Haruka: Ah, e-excu-, I don’t, I uh… got it…… Futa… kun……
He's implied to have repeatedly told Haruka to be less formal with him! He's also asked about hobbies that he's already interested in, seemingly to try and use it to get closer to Haruka. There are exceptions (i.e. Yuno showing off what she does for her younger brother) but that moreso dovetails into my next point of observation.
Fuuta doesn't like to be perceived as vulnerable. Which, I think everyone has noticed because dude's an anxious wreck. Like seriously! He tries to be the group representative cause he thought Es treated Yuno badly (and if we were to give him credit, extrapolated that Haruka might not have been treated well too because it's clear that Haruka's standards aren't the highest), but is shaking like a leaf and breathing weirdly.
Futa: Haa…… haa…… Ok…… Kotoko: What’s up, Futa.……your breathing seems a bit uneven? Futa: Huh!? I’m getting ready to fight. That guard is looking down on all of us……! Kotoko: ……hmm. Is that so…… I’m looking forward to it. To seeing what your “justice” really is.
This trial he tries to barter a better verdict before breaking down and begging cause he can't take it any more! Which, given Shidou's report of injuries, I really can't blame him?
Either way, this pairs really badly with another trait that he seems to have; not really being able to join a conversation properly unless shown a clear indication that his input is wanted. A good example of this is actually Mahiru's birthday interaction with him. He only goes into talking about her birthday when she implies it's something that he should be making an active interaction with instead of reactively asking what she means.
Mahiru: Fufu, it’s a special day today. I can’t help but feel something good’s going to happen. Futa: What’s with all the muttering to yourself. It’s creepy. Mahiru: Geez, you really don’t understand, Futa-kun. You’ll never have a proper romance with that attitude! Futa: Who cares. Obviously this is because today’s your birthday. It’s just the day you happened to be born, it doesn’t mean anything. Here, I’ll give you my tomato, so just shut up and eat it. That’s your birthday present, so be grateful.
Wrapping back to something I mentioned earlier, this might be a thing that Mikoto picked up on as attention seeking.
Fuuta actually has pretty rigid thinking in terms of socializing! I'd say that was interesting but also that tracks, given that he does most of his socializing online. But he also has very firm schemas as to how people should act/socialize from their perceived roles in society (i.e. stating that he doesn't really talk to girls because he doesn't want to be involved in "girl talk"-
Q.05 What do you like in the opposite sex? Futa: Someone who can have a conversation on the same level as me. The things girls talk about are usually all boring
-and being upset with Kazui and Shidou for not being proactive about trying to escape this situation
Futa: The ones I don’t particularly like are Shido and Kazui. The old geezer duo. Even though we’re in a state of emergency here, even though they’re the oldest out of us all, they’re acting like they don’t have a care in the world. I can’t believe they’re so unreliable. They’re good for absolutely fucking nothing!
). It's simultaneously really old fashioned and a product of our time. It's honestly a frustrating aspect of his character.
Though at the same time, it's a view that makes him susceptible to indoctrination. This vulnerability has only gotten wider since the end of the first trial, with the voters' voices, Kotoko's assault and the fact that he never really had a strong sense of self to begin with. It's almost a shame I didn't write this up earlier because I have to say; with the lesson that Fuuta seems to have learned from our first vote (I never should have stuck my nose in other people's business) and this, I feel like Fuuta is in a very dangerous position mentally. Not that voting him guilty/unforgiven would have been better but. Idk this seems like something that's bad to affirm.
Second up is the queen B herself, Muu! Is that a Bee or a Belle? Hmm, I wonder~ (in all seriousness, her change from trial one to trial two feels more like a dark version of Cinderella if we're truly making fairy tale references)
Now Muu is someone who likes feeling comfortable and as such, she tends to hang out with people who allow her the freedom of opinion. That, and people who actually pay her "proper" attention.
Q.01 What do friends mean to you? Mu: People who listen properly to what I say
Oddly enough though, while she functions just fine in group environments (easily taking charge of her prior friend group) she actually seems to prefer one on one conversations?? For the most part, she seeks out people to talk to when they're by themselves or in a small group. This can be seen within the portal timeline, key examples being this conversation implying she went to Haruka's door in order to converse with him as soon as possible,
Mu: Haruka-kun, are you awake……? Happy birthday. Haruka: M-Mu-san? I… I-I’m awake…… Th-thank you, very much. I’m… glad…… Mu: ………… Shall we talk? You know, recently I’ve been pretty interested in you. Haruka: ……!! I-in me…? Hehe, hehehe…… interested, in me.
this conversation implying that Muu actively sought Yuno out in order to get birthday wishes from her,
Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me? Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right? Happy birthday~ Mu: How mean… Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself. Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother………so was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?
this conversation emphasising her desire for someone's complete attention when she has it,
Mu: What’s wrong, Haruka-kun? Did something happen? You shouldn’t look away like that when you’re together with me. Haruka: Ah, s-sorry, Mu-san. Um…… No, it’s nothing. I just, suddenly got a feeling. That something is about to happen. Mu: Isn’t that because it’s your birthday? Or perhaps it’s a sign the guard is about to wake up again soon? Fufufu, I bet they’ll be really surprised at a lot of things. Haruka: That, might be true. But, I want the the guard to see.……the new me…….
and this.
Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday. Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that, right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that. Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate. Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere so you’re out of everyone’s way.
There's something to be said about that trait shown within the portal timeline + the shrinking of her group shown in INMF. This feeds back into her wanting people to pay attention to her, though I think it's also a way to pay back that attention in kind, which feeds into my next point.
Muu is a very eye for an eye person. Granted, it seems to be perceived slights as opposed to objective ones. This can feed into one of her more negative traits, that being she can overly exaggerate the hurt in her own experiences (side note, this is likely why that one line was translated as "I am always the drama queen").
Not to say that the hurt she feels isn't, by any means, real, but it can leads to situations where she retaliates in a manner that's far more harsh than what happened to her. Literally a prime example of this is her murder! Like I'm sorry, but murder is not a reasonable response to bullying, much less being ignored. However, this can also go the other way around. Treat her nicely and she's going to treat you well.
This type of attitude is likely why she had such a dismissive reaction to one of her friends thanking her for the lipstick in the After Pain group chat. To use an adage, one good turn deserves another. She gave her friend the lipstick and her friend thanked her (even if indirectly, by complimenting the lipstick). Thus, in her view, it was paid back in kind.
Another, more recent, example of this is her interactions with Haruka. Giving him a makeover, lavishing him with her attention and bringing him food as the guilty verdict sets in for both of them, she has been giving him kind acts. One could argue that she feels that Haruka has been returning this by thanking her and contemplating how best to carry out his vow regarding her verdict (in other words, a continued promise to follow through on his actions when it comes to it- which we know is when and not if, since we know the verdicts).
However, if you want to take a kinder interpretation, she recognizes that Haruka isn't in the mental position to do that. This would be why, on her birthday, she's so insistent about what she's doing being a great thing to Fuuta of all people. Basically, that tightrope between wanting to seek validation but wanting a kind deed to be a kind deed.
However, like Fuuta, Muu also has a very shaky sense of self. Or rather, in her case, a shaky esteem. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she had RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria).
She's someone that looks to see other people's reactions before making a move herself, if subconsciously. And it's very clear that she half expected to be voted guilty and tried to overcompensate for that in INMF. That expectation with the hope/want of getting external validation sure did make a horrifying concoction...
Honestly, her verdict is going to be very touch and go for her. It could turn out well in the end, but there's such a high risk in terms of her mental health (+physical, depending on how the votes go) that it's... Worrying. And Haruka's vow, while providing a sense of comfort currently, is likely going to be detrimental in the long run. For both of them.
Overall, they're two (very) dumb kids that screwed up, and they both justify their actions to themselves in different ways. Fuuta falls back on a sense of justice and the fact that he wasn't the only one involved in his sins. Muu focuses on her pain and the idea that the only person that can truly judge a person is the one in the situation. However-
-they both clearly took things too far, and they know it. Regardless of how they behave, I get the feeling they do regret the results of their actions.
#Milgram#Fuuta Kajiyama#Muu Kusunoki#thoughts#this is really long (for my posts) so if you get through this I applaud you#sure some of it is pics but still#tbh this summed up is 'Fuuta and Muu are two different flavours of neurodivergent and it shows'#I feel I need to say this for clarity but I'm not trying to be too biased#though that's just human nature so like bias will exist regardless#This post was started mid Muu's trial orz
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AU where Coulson survived Loki attack
you have difficulté pronucoung certains name like Steve(stewe), Peter(pewer) Loki(zoki), bucky(wucky) fury(fusy), Tony(zony) and vision(zizion)
Warning:slight mention of animal being injuried but i think that's all?
you are Peter parker younger sister
It was a rare quiet afternoon in the Avengers Tower. Most of the team was scattered around the building, either working or taking a much-needed break. But Steve—Stewe, as you liked to call him—was sulking in the corner, his hands resting heavily on his knees. His face was tired, his expression downcast. You knew exactly what was bothering him.
"Alphine," you muttered to yourself, glancing at the kitchen table where Bruce had set up his tablet earlier. Steve’s beloved cat, Alphine, had somehow managed to hurt her paw, and now she was at the vet, with Steve pacing around like a worried father.
"Poor Stewe," you sighed, tugging at your loose shirt. An idea popped into your head—an idea that could cheer him up. It was ridiculous, but it was worth a shot.
You dashed into your room and grabbed your secret weapon: a cat onesie. It was ridiculous. It had cat ears on the hood and a fluffy tail, and it made you look like a walking cartoon. But, you reasoned, if it made Steve smile, it would be worth every second.
You threw the onesie on quickly and ran back to the living room. Steve was still hunched over, his face a mix of concern and sadness.
"Stewe!" you called out dramatically, skipping into the room like you were auditioning for a play.
Steve glanced up, his eyes tired, but then he saw you in your full-on cat onesie. You immediately broke into an exaggerated cat pose, striking a ridiculous pose with your arms up in the air.
"Meow," you said in your best “cat” voice, giving an over-the-top twirl. "Look, I'm Alphine’s little twin! We both have fluffy tails!" You flicked the tail of your onesie dramatically, making a squeaky noise as you spun around.
For a split second, Steve just blinked at you, his frown deepening, but then something in his eyes shifted. Slowly, the corners of his mouth twitched. And before you knew it, the frown broke completely into a wide smile. He burst into a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Are you... are you wearing a cat onesie?" Steve asked, his voice light and filled with a warmth you hadn't heard in a while. You nodded enthusiastically, doing a little hop.
"Yep! And I’m here to give you all the cat cuddles you need, Stewe!"
Steve couldn't help himself. He pulled you into a big, tight hug, his laughter rumbling against your cheek. "You're insane, you know that?" he chuckled.
You squeezed him back, proud of yourself for getting a smile out of him. "But I made you smile, didn't I?" you teased, pulling back just enough to look up at him.
"Yeah, you did," Steve said softly, ruffling your hair. "Thank you."
Just as you were about to say something else, you heard a beep from Bruce's tablet. You froze, your heart sinking slightly. "Did Bruce...?" you started to ask.
Before you could finish, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you quickly pulled it out. The message from the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. chat group was already open, the first comment staring right at you:
Bruce: “I think I just found the cutest moment on camera. Enjoy, everyone!”
You clicked on the video, only to see Bruce's camera angle from a few feet away, where he'd been secretly filming your little performance. The video showed you in your ridiculous cat onesie, prancing around the living room with your arms up in the air. You could hear Steve’s laughter, and then—boom—he pulled you into a big hug, both of you laughing and smiling like goofs.
You watched the chat explode with messages:
Tony: “That’s it, I’m officially a cat person now. Zony approves.”
Natasha: “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Stewe, you’re getting soft!”
Clint: “Lmao, I never thought I’d see the day when Cap gets distracted by a onesie.”
Bucky: “Stewe, you okay? We’re all here for you... and the cat costume’s a nice touch, I guess.”
Sam: “Cap, you’re about to be the next internet meme.”
Wanda: “This is so wholesome, I can't even.”
Pietro: “I thought you were Captain America, not Captain Cuddle.”
Shuri: “Is that a new suit? Need one for myself.”
Stephen Strange: “I’m literally crying. Send me the video.”
Maria Hill: “What in the world is happening here?”
Coulson: “I’m not sure whether I should be proud or concerned for the team.”
Fury: “I’m just glad it wasn’t me wearing the cat onesie.”
You glanced at Steve, who was now chuckling at the flood of responses. "Great, now I’m the one getting roasted," he muttered under his breath, but you could tell he was secretly pleased.
"Don't worry, Stewe, you’re a very good sport about it," you said with a grin, giving him a playful poke.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he grumbled, but there was a sparkle in his eyes now. "I guess Alphine's not the only one who can make me feel better, huh?"
"Exactly!" You gave him a wink. "And I’m still your little cat twin."
The chat kept buzzing, but for that moment, it was just you and Steve, laughing together. Even the other Avengers had to admit—it was one of the cutest moments in the Tower yet.
And Bruce? Well, he had definitely captured everyone’s heart.
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