#i never thought you guys would WANT me to insert myself into anything on this page

[heckinconfusedparade]

I wonder what the Tails Squad would do for your birthday?

They would probably show up at my back door and stare at me through the glass. They’d pile up on each other and everything.

Maybe a smallish party (I’m not a fan of big loud ones) and they can all have extra slices of cake because they’re all good boys.

Gifts from them would be cute little trinkets they think I’d like, like rocks from their universes and a pasta coupon!

I am their squad creator. They shall cherish me! /j

I feel like they’ll appreciate my need for toned down celebrations and silence. I get overstimulated by loud sounds really easily! So it’s a quiet celebration.

Then I send them home with their Sonics. Get some sleep, kiddos.

[laylasredemption]

I know Micah Bell is the bad guy, but hear me out, I have a few headcannons for dating him

warnings: might be toxic y'all gotta excuse me cus i've just got out of a toxic relationship myself that's how i deal with it; also smut (i really gotta write a whole smut based on these headcannons) pls guys stay away from toxic men irl read at your own risk, might be a lil messed up

The first time Micah lay his eyes on you, he knew he had to have you, and he knew how to get what he wanted. You were much younger than him, probably somewhere in your early to mid 20s, and he knew how to talk you into thinking he could be the big, scary guard dog, protect you from the evil of this cruel world.

Maybe you even had the tendency to fall for the bad men, and he quickly found that out. Let's be real, he could read you like an open book, so it didn't take long for him to realize how naive and impressionable you are. It was so easy to manipulate your emotions however he wanted to, and you thought he's the only one who truly understands you.

Other gang members would notice that, of course, and they would try to make you realize how wrong this is. But Micah would make sure you don't chat with them too long. He'd barge into the conversation, say something to the other person about not bothering his girl, and drag you away.

He wouldn't physically punish you, or that's what I want to believe, but his words would cut deep into your heart. Almost as if his words were bullets and you were his favourite target (nessa barrett referance), he'd especially try to shatter your self esteem, calling you stupid for believing even for a moment what others say.

The emotional rollercoaster, god, Micah could be so sweet to you one moment if there was something he wanted to gain from you, if he wanted you to believe in his good side. You'd often ditch your morals for him, and he'd reward you with affection, maybe a kiss if you're being really good.

Then his mood could change in a moment. Like walking on eggshells, you make one wrong move, and in the best case he's giving you the silent treatment. In other, less pleasant, cases he would again call you stupid, dumb, anything to tear your self esteem down.

GASLIGHTING!! I totally see him saying stuff like "You must be crazy if you think I [insert something he definitely did]."

He'd never make the relationship official, but at the same time he'd say he'd kill any man who tried to take you from him.

Lying, lying, lying. He'd lie to you so much you wouldn't know what to believe anymore. This and false promises to get on your good side again.

Now the NSFW part

POWER PLAY he'd love to be in charge in bedroom as much as outside of it, having you submit to him is what gets him off, he'd love pushing your boundaries, testing how far he can go with you. He has some dark fantasies and he'd try to get you to try them out.

He's never gentle. We all know he's a lil sick in the head, so he'd always be rough in bed. The louder you scream the better.

His fav position would be doggy, partially because he could push your head into the bed, the ground, or whatever there was underneath you, and partially because he could just grab your hips, digging his nails into your skin, and slam all the way in and out of you, the head of his cock bruising your cervix.

You'd always be sooo sore on the next day, not just inside from all the pounding, but also outside from the bites and scratches he had left on your body. And your ass would be definitely bruised because y'all can't tell me this man ain't into spanking the hell out of you.

During sex he'd love to tell you that you belong to him. He'd keep making you say it, asking you who you belong to. Especially if he'd seen you talking to any male gang members that day. Oh, and of course, he'd say something like "Bet he could never fuck you like this."

As much as he doesn't want to commit to you, he'd love to see the marks he left on your body, indicating you belong to him.

He would make you cum, just because he wants you to think no one else can bring such pleasure to you. But there would be absolutely no aftercare. He's cold and distant. He got what he wanted, that's all that matters for him.

I feel like he would definitely use sex as something to distract you if he makes a mistake. And if you make a mistake? He either fucks your brains out or he turns you on just to not let you even get undressed nor touch yourself.

Honestly, he wouldn't mind people overhearing. Hell, he'd be even into getting caught. At least that would show others that you belong to him and no one else can touch you.

I feel like he'd be into gunplay, using his guns on you during sex, holding a gun to your head while he's fucking into you or when you're sucking him off. You'd have no idea about it, but he wouldn't take the bullets out beforehand. He didn't plan to pull the trigger, but if the gun was to fire on its own, the danger only added to his arousal. He's a sick man, what can I say?

[flnpushy]

A tricky Pushing

It happened so fast. An internet hookup. He wasn’t even who he said he was. The guy was a complete jerk. I fell for his charm, but deep down I knew he was no good. Why did I let him do it? Why didn’t I just walk away…. He was aggressive with me, almost abusive in the back of his truck. Before I could do anything he had me naked…. After the one night stand he ditched me, never to have contact again, I tried to tell him but he ran, there was no getting him back. So now here I am, 9 months later. With his baby in my belly. 

I awoke from this crazy dream. This dream I've had for 9 months now. Hoping this time when I woke up, it wasn’t true. However when my eyes came open, there it was, a big belly hanging from my tiny frame. Ugh… I just want this to be over. Get back to the fun, outgoing, 18 year old girl I was. But this baby had to come out first. I went to all my appointments, and found that of course he had to put a huge baby boy in me. A first time 18 year old mom to be with an 11 pound baby in my belly. I’m so small I thought, I’ve only had sex once, how the hell am I going to push an 11 pound baby out of my tiny pussy? I guess I was about to find out.

After getting pregnant I vanished from people. I didn’t see my friends, my family, or even go outside of my house, except to the doctors. I just wanted to push this baby out and be done. I knew nothing about birth or pregnancy, the doctors said I should seek help to birth or even hire a midwife. I wanted nothing to do with this. It was too embarrassing and I had too much anger to cope with an assisted birth or midwife. I would just do this myself. I tried to end the pregnancy by pushing, reaching inside me and messing with things, hoping to break the water or something. But it was no use. The baby was inside me, and i had no choice but to let it grow….. So much anger, If only I could find that guy and take revenge…..

As I arose for another day of being pregnant alone, It hit me, A hard pain in my gut. I knew it was going to be happening. Finally i thought, I can get this baby out of me. Just push it out nice and fast, and be done.

These pains became more regular. A Couple hours passed. I curled up in a blanket to watch Tv and ride the pains. All i wanted to do was just push, but I knew there was no way the baby was going to just drop out of me. There had to be a dilation thing… right? I truly didn’t know. I stood up from my couch and pulled off my pants, shirt, and panties, exposing my lovely little body. I rubbed my painful belly a couple times and pushed like i needed to poop. This is how you do this? I think…. 

I pushed a few times, I quickly grew impatient. I carried his baby around for 9 months and now its going to be hard to push out! Seriously! I just wanted this to be done. I stuck my fingers up inside me. I reached way in as far as I could fit my fingers. I felt something bulging. Not sure what it was though. I decided to lay back down on the couch. 

Time passed, the pains got worse. It was afternoon, then evening.  Was I even going to have the baby today? How long does this labor thing last? Evening turned into night. I went to bed in pain. Awaking every 15 minutes to searing pains in my belly. Now i was really angry. 

The next morning came. I had been feeling pains for 24 hours now. But things felt different. The burning and stinging deep inside me was gone. Now The burning was inside my vagina. I awoke and immediately inserted my fingers. I pushed in a ways and bumped something. Its was membranous, squishy, and warm. I pushed in a bit more and felt something hard. Was this the babies head? Suddenly i felt a large gush, my hand was soaked and so was the bed below my body. What the hell was that?! Now the pains got worse… Have I done something bad? I thought to myself? I didn’t care. I walked painfully out to the couch and sat down. I was naked and it felt good, But my body didn’t, My vagina area was really starting to hurt. 

“THATS IT!!” I said aloud, “THIS BABY NEEDS TO COME OUT!”

I thought of him again. All this pain for his little bit of pleasure…. UGH!

I then felt like i needed to poop, and badly. I headed to the toilet and sat down. I pushed a few times and quickly realized it wasn’t poop, it was time for me to push the baby out. I made a couple grunts on the toilet before returning to the couch. My body began forcing me to push, it wasn’t very painful yet, and it felt good to push. Each pain made my belly tense up. I put my finger back in my pussy and pushed. I could feel something hard pressing against my finger about 2 inches inside. It must have been the babies head, but i wasn’t sure. When i stopped pushing it receded back a bit. This heightened my frustrations. I stood up, spread my legs wide and pushed hard. I did this for about 15 minutes until i could feel my pussy bulging . I reached down again and felt inside, just within my opening was a head, i could feel a tiny tuft of hair. I knew i was getting close now. Getting closer to being normal again, with no baby in me. Little  did I know the battle was just beginning. 

I continued pushing standing up for about 20 minutes, growing ever more frustrated that the baby hadn’t come out already. Is this baby stuck in me? I couldn’t help it, i reached down and felt inside me again. 

“SERIOUSLY!” I said out loud.

The baby had hardly done anything, not even a centimeter of movement. It had to be stuck. It had to…. But I didn’t know what to do about this. I wasn’t going to seek help… no never. All i wanted was the baby out. I sat back on the couch and pulled my legs up as far as i could, my big belly protruding out hugely in front of me. I pushed a couple times as a bead of sweat ran down my face. 

“UGH!! COME OUT!” I yelled. 

I realized that I could not see what i was actually doing. My belly was much to big for me to actually see my vagina. I got up and found my big mirror from my bedroom. I took it from the room and balanced it up against my coffee table about 2 feet from the couch. Now i could actually see my vagina. I went to push again. But caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror….. I took a hard look at my huge belly and by puffy pussy below it. I thought of him…. I couldn’t truly believe what his seed had done to me. I was angered once again. I pulled back on my legs and began pushing once more. I continued watching the mirror as i went. After about 20 minutes a tiny slit opened a bit in my pussy, I reached down and pulled my labia open, i could see the head now. As soon as my push ended the head disappeared from sight….

What the hell i thought… Its back inside! I had to think about it, i had held a newborn baby when i was younger that my cousin had gave birth to a couple weeks prior. I remember the size of the head. I looked at my pussy and realized….. How on earth is that going to fit….

Didn’t matter…. I needed this baby out!

I pushed hard again. This time the head could be seen with out opening myself up. I pushed hard an held it. The little head stayed there, until i stopped pushing…. Then it slid in. 

“Ugh!!” I said aloud. 

I tried again, once more holding the push, seeing the little head, and then watching it slide back in. Was this how it was supposed to be? Or was the baby already stuck? 

“Get outta there!” I said aloud.

I pushed again and reached down to feel the little head. How could i see it, touch it, but no matter how hard i push it won’t come out?

It was starting to feel like pushing wasn’t effective. But i kept going.

I squatted down holding the couch behind me. I could still see below my belly with the help of the mirror. 

“Mmmmm aaaaaaaa.” I pushed. I could see his little head again. 

“aaaaaa hhhhh.” Another push. More of the head. 

‘Come on little man…mmmmMMMmmmm.” A bit more head, about the size of a silver dollar was showing now. The contraction ended. Almost like a vacuum the babies little head slipped back inside me. I slid back from my squat and sat on the couch. I closed my legs and relaxed, sealing the baby back in my belly. I relaxed for a few minutes and regained my composure to try again. I squatted back down and began pushing. Nothing with the first contraction, not even a sliver of the head. The next contraction revealed a sliver of the babies head, before retracting back inside me again. One more push with the contraction revealed a bit more head, but not much before disappearing again. I became frustrated. Thinking about his baby stuck in my belly. He had it so easy… Now i have to push….

After another hour of making no progress i decided to walk around and push. Maybe moving around would trigger something to happen, or make more room for that little head to squeeze outta there. I grabbed a little mirror from the bathroom that I could carry, this way when i pushed i could see what was happening. I walked around the room, pacing through contractions. When a contraction hit me i squatted and pushed. I did this for awhile, Walking then, squatting to push, only to continue to see the baby slide back in each time. I continued this for a half hour. Finally i ended up back at the couch, full squat, and pushing more again. I began wiggling my hips as i pushed. Trying anything i could think of to make progress. It just wasn’t coming out. Now i was mad. 

I leaned back and pushed with all my strength, i reached down with my hands over my big belly and pulled back on my pussy lips. I tried getting my fingers in and around the babies head as if to attempt to pull it out. But it was no use, the head was to slippery to get a grip on. I was upset and exhausted.

Minutes went by, my body started basically pushing on its own. I had no choice now, there was a baby in me and my body was doing everything it could to push it out. All could do was work with my body and hope the baby came out. About 30 minutes of this passed, finally my pussy was opening farther and farther, slowly letting the baby come forth. Each push shoved the head farther into the opening and attempted to stretch my tight opening. Soon the head was starting to poke out a little bit, but my tight pussy lips continued to grip the babies head relentlessly. The head was now getting ever closer to crown, but still only the size of a silver dollar was really showing in my opening. I needed assistance to get this head to come farther. Maybe how the baby went in could help get it out I thought. I began rubbing myself and playing.

15 minutes passed and i couldn’t hold any longer. I orgasmed. The pressure was crazy as the orgasm contractions slid the baby down a bit more. the head was now pressed so tightly in my opening, it felt like i was going to rip open. The head was now so much bigger in my pussy opening. I pushed a few times but no progress was made. I was getting so close to the forehead of the baby coming through. It was so close, but yet the baby could still slip back in. I was scared to have to go through this again, so i constantly squeezed my muscles to prevent the baby from sliding back. I couldn’t bare the frustration of the baby going back in me now. It was so close to coming out. 

“Come on baby, get your head out!” I yelled pushing as hard as i could. 

This was the case for 45 minutes. Pushing with all my strength, making absolutely zero progress. I was pushing, my body was pushing, But with everything i had the little baby refused to move. 

“COME ON BABY!” I yelled.

I began wiggling my hips side to side and bouncing up and down. Doing anything in my bodies power to release the baby. It was stuck firm. I got up and walked around. the head didn’t move from its position making walking just about impossible. I pushed as i walked hoping for the baby to just fall out of me. But gravity was no help either. I went back to the couch and began to sit down. Thats when i screwed up…..

As is sat down I closed my legs slightly. I felt it…. The slip…. The babies head began retracting back inside. 

“NO NO NO NO!!” I yelped. “AHHHHH!” It was painful as the baby retracted. I watched in the mirror, pushing as hard as i could to stop it. But there was no stopping my body. I watched as the head got smaller and slowly disappeared back inside me. I saw in the mirror as my pussy closed up, sealing the baby back in my belly. I literally was flabbergasted. 6 hours of pushing and i still end up pregnant! I took a break.

30 mins went by. Finally i built up the courage and strength to go at it again. I pushed and things went faster this time. One push had the head in view. The next had the baby back where it was. Finally i made one more big push and i was at crown. Now it was time….. For the ultimate push. 

I dug my hands into a pillow, gritted my teeth, curled my little toes and push with every ounce of muscle mass that my body had. In one huge movement the head popped free. The baby began to rotate. The new push had the shoulders. Finally one last push freed the baby from the tight clenches of my 18 year old womb. I was done. 

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Five

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 17k (holy moly)

Chapter Warnings: I tried to sprinkle some fluffy flashbacks and smutty references later in here just to lighten the mood but this is angsty!! probably cursing I honestly can't remember, and serious warnings rn mentions of hacking/gossip blogs/blackmail/cyber bullying/nudes being leaked, talia is her own warning tbh. I tried not to make a cliched ex comes in between them plot and idk how it comes across but yeah I was trying to toe the line between it being interesting/different and then going too far and not being able to write around it which is why the plot kind of fixes itself quick and is a leeeetle bit bad but there's some unresolved bitterness in that relationship for sure lmao she has a LOT 2 say!! did I mention there's angst in here? insecurity/self-doubt and miscommunication!!! in abundance!!! but!! luke is a cutey patootie in this I wrote his part with a lil smile on my face 💖 also a ridiculous conversation about huffing glue lmao

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Four)

A/N: ok so in the grand scheme of things this is both a filler chapter and also like a pivotal point in the story to set something later up, but when I was planning this entire fic out, the only directive I gave myself for this specific chapter was insert angst. you wouldn't believe the amount of times I've written and rewritten and gone back and forth on what's in here. it's the kind of instruction only a complete melon would give themselves and I clearly just hate myself in ways that are spooky and strange to submit myself to this kind of torture.

and I hear your cries of hasn’t this fic just been angst so far??? yes!! you may be correct!! but you don’t get a rainbow without a bit of rain hun!!! grab an umbrella!!! I promise good will come of this lmao

I'm sorry this one took so long, it's the only chapter I didn't have any kind of plan or direction for obviously and I tried to come up with so many different options for the talia plot before I landed on whatever this is, but the next one I do have some scenes written out in my plan so shouldn't be as long in between. my goal has always been a chapter a week but like I said the other day work has been a lot for me the past couple of weeks so I am genuinely sorry for making you wait!!

you guys were very fun and very kind to me after the last chapter so please please please lets keep the good vibes going come chat to me about your thoughts about the fic about the weather about anything!! 💓

Nico

When Nico and Talia had first started dating, there had been an element of excitement to the dynamic. Nico hadn’t properly dated anyone in a while - had casual flings here and there, and for the most part spent his time swallowing down his burgeoning feelings for his best friend - and there was a novelty to starting something with someone new.

He had all the intentions of building something serious with her. She was fun, got on with his friends, had ties close to home that meant he wouldn’t be putting a wedge between the two of them should he want to travel back in his breaks, and sinking his teeth into the challenges of a relationship was something that actually intrigued him.

He liked planning dates, liked buying gifts to see that buzz of joy and gratitude it would elicit, and he liked the companionship - liked having someone there when he came back from a long roadie or a tough string of games. 

He liked it so much he never really opened his eyes to the fact that Talia didn’t. 

She didn’t like the dates he planned - didn’t like the restaurants he chose, the movies he wanted to share with her, the bars him and the guys frequented. She didn’t like America, didn’t like their coffee shops, thought their pastries were packed with too much sugar, their portion sizes were too large for her ever to enjoy going for lunch, always complaining about feeling bloated and sluggish after every meal. She hated Jersey - wanted to spend all her time across the Hudson, looking down on everyone she met and everywhere they went together. She didn’t make much use of the gifts he bought her - let every bouquet of flowers die a quick, careless death, said the watch he bought her didn’t go with enough of her other jewellery and turned her nose up at every effort he made to make his apartment feel more like her home. 

She wasn’t all that comforting when it came to companionship, either. Rolled her eyes when he came home aching and exhausted, went out without him on the days he was coming back from a roadie and returned home when he had long retired to his bed. She would always want to meet up with her girlfriends instead of hanging around the team, and only ever wanted to come to games if she could bring her own entourage - mostly to show off her connections and hardly ever to actually support him.

And so, despite the initial attraction, despite the excitement that first came with their blossoming relationship, Nico can only look at Talia with disinterest and frigidity now.

He barely greets her as he opens the door to his apartment, moving aside to let her in and waiting for her to trudge her small case in behind her before he closes it, leaning against the surface and watching her discard her bag and keys on the counter with familiarity.

When she turns to face him, running a hand through her hair and huffing out a big sigh, he takes in her dishevelled appearance.

Even when travelling, Talia usually takes great pride in her pristine exterior - hair blow-dried, outfit co-ordinated and steam-pressed to perfection, not a crease or stain in sight, and usually a light layer of makeup to cover the slight imperfections like the darkened under eyes and redness around her nose. This isn’t like her.

She looks like she’s been messing with her hair the whole 8 hour flight out and beyond, her eyes are rimmed-red with smudges of brown at the corners, her lips are chapped and swollen like she’s been crying, and her sweatpants don’t match her hoodie. It’s almost like she’d thrown on whatever she could find and caught the first flight out, fresh out of bed.

“What’s going on?” He cuts straight to the chase, losing all formality and courtesy. He should feel bad for his callous greeting, but she had broken up with him over text not even a month ago - she doesn’t exactly deserve outstretched arms and a warm embrace, he thinks.

“Hi Talia, how have you been, Talia? It’s nice to see you Talia.” She mocks, a frown overtaking her features immediately. “I’m absolutely amazing, thanks for caring, Nico!” Sarcasm spews from her tongue like pure venom, and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head.

Nico pushes himself off of the door, heavy footsteps leading him into his kitchen where he can make himself a coffee to get through this. His watch reads 6:05 - far too early for her antics - and rising to her nagging is only going to make things worse.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, as he busies himself with his coffee press, unable to look at her too long without the pricks of guilt irritating him.  He doesn’t even know what he has to feel guilty about.

“I’ll get it myself,” she scoffs, venturing over to the fridge and pouring out some orange juice - her movements around his space eerily natural. She slams back most of the drink as he works out how to brew his coffee - but she sees right through him. He’s hardly ever used the press before, and he’s just doing so now to avoid her in whatever capacity he can. “I need money.”

Nico’s almost positive he hasn’t heard her right - that there’s some kind of mix up between her standard German and his Swiss - and he slowly turns to properly face her, brows slanting into a deep frown as he assesses her expression.

She has a hand on her hip, her jaw set and her eyes darkened and serious. 

“You have money.”

Talia comes from money - her father is some kind of film producer and her mother an artist, if Nico remembers correctly - and she makes good money, herself. She’s been a print model since she was scouted in some market in Munich since she was 15, has had her face plastered in ads in magazines and catalogues around the world. She’s hardly strapped for cash. She gets things gifted to her by whatever company she can get a hold of. What could she possibly need him to give her money for?

“Not enough.” Her tone is cold, her demeanour the same, and if Nico can still gauge her emotions correctly, there’s an element of blame that she is starting to shift towards him, and his whole body starts to feel tense.

“Not enough for what?”

He can’t quite tell what feeling washes over him - worry, at the thought she’s gotten herself into some kind of trouble, stress, at the thought this could be a recurring thing, and potentially pity, at the way she’s so clearly carrying the weight of something heavy - something she’s lugged all the way across the Atlantic on a long haul flight with her.

“Not enough to pay the guy who’s blackmailing me not to leak the videos that I sent to you.”

“What vide-“ he bites back, and the immediate arch of her brow tells him all he needs to know. “Oh.”

Shit.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” She sneers, fury in her gaze and dismay in her tone. “You’ve ruined my life, and all I get is an oh?”

“Whoa, slow down, I’ve ruined your life?”

Nico has never been one to shame any girl for sending explicit pictures - he’d been more than willing to receive them at the time - but he hadn’t ever forced her hand. He hadn’t even asked her for them, in the first place. 

She’d taken it upon herself to spice things up, as she had put it at the time, when the team had gone on the road in early December. It was just after he’d returned from his injury - a time in which he’d spent mentally distanced from her as he’d focused so much on getting back to the game, their relationship consisting mainly of not-so-passionate sex to avoid aggravating his injury and hardly of any kind of meaningful conversation - and she had thought that keeping him on his toes on a roadie would mean he’d come back more interested than ever.

If he’d been looking out for red flags at the time, he might have caught that blaring one; needing to try new things only a few months into a relationship to keep it fun and light.

He’d been in his hotel room in Seattle, freshly showered and ready to throw himself straight into bed when his phone had started to ping. It was suggestive texts at first, are you alone? And I’m thinking about you. Then it had been pictures, hands over lingerie and fingers between glossy, pouted lips.

And then videos, one after the other before he had any chance to respond - her phone set up far enough away that her whole body was in frame, touching herself while laying on his bed and calling out for him.

He had called her instead of sending anything back, and as he realises the severity of the situation, a selfish part of him is glad he did so.

“Talia, I didn’t even save those videos, and I definitely didn’t show them to anyone else.”

Nico could never. Not only for the fact that he was raised to be a decent human being, but he has a sister - if anyone ever did that to Nina, he’d tear them apart, limb from limb. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever sent anything to.” She seems to have made her mind up, and Nico feels as if his heart plummets through his torso at the realisation. She’s travelled all this way because she genuinely believes he’s the cause of this - that he’s shared intimate videos of her without her consent, to someone who would extort her for them. “And he sent me some pictures as proof, had information about me like the address of this apartment.”

“Talia, I swear on my mother’s life, I wouldn’t do that to you - to anyone, not ever.”

Tears well in her crystalline eyes, and Nico waits with bated breath as she assesses the situation in her head. 

He isn’t a liar - he has never given her a reason to think he is one. In their time together, he had always been honest, always been loyal, and he hopes at the very least - despite her obvious distain for him now, and how little she ended up caring about their relationship in the end to cut it off in the way she did - she thought of him as kind. 

He can do nothing but be patient, let her come to whatever conclusion on her own, and it’s only when he spots the quiver in her bottom lip that he takes an apprehensive step forward, ready to console her if needed.

She practically throws herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist and bawling into his chest, and all he can do is hold her and wait. He tries to rub a soothing hand up and down her back, holding the other against her head as her body wracks with sobs. All he can feel is the pounding of his own heartbeat, pulsing throughout his entire body until it’s all he can hear, too.

Nico does his best to comfort her, shushing and cooing and whispering how it’s going to be alright, but it does little to help. She’s beyond relief.

“There’s a guy who said he can track whoever is doing this to me,” she sniffles as she pulls herself away. “He’s in Jersey City Heights, he’s some sort of ethical hacker, whatever that means, I’m going to meet him and he’s gonna go through my phone.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Nico doesn’t even hesitate to ask - if not to protect her, and make sure she isn’t unknowingly getting herself into an even more dangerous situation, then to protect himself too. If someone has Talia’s pictures, and she only sent them to him, there’s a possibility his phone had been hacked, and if this guy is as ethical as he says, maybe he can check Nico’s stuff, too, just to be safe.

She gives him an appreciative smile, eyes still glassy and cheeks flushed. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“I’m gonna shower, then we can go. You can grab whatever to eat while you’re waiting.” He backs away from her completely, only just able to acknowledge the ache in his muscles once the intensity of the situation has settled a little, and he just needs to stand under the steaming spray and clear his mind before he properly immerses himself in her company. 

He has a lot more than this whole mess that he needs to think about, and maybe a shower can bring him a little clarity on how exactly he’s going to explain himself to the beautiful girl whose bed he had abruptly left not even an hour ago. 

“Why are you dressed?”

Nico stops in his tracks.

When he had got back to his apartment, he’d made a little effort for it to seem like he’d been there all night. He’d gone through to his bedroom, mussed up his sheets to make it seem like he had been sleeping in them - and not with the anticipation that Talia was going to be entering his bedroom, but with her, he never knows - trying to retrace the steps of his usual routine before he goes to bed, he had closed all the blinds, had moved his gym bag by the door.

But he hadn’t changed.

Still adorned in his sweatshirt and jeans from the night before, the clothing feels all that much heavier on his body as she brings attention to it, and he quickly racks his brain to come up with a valid excuse that doesn’t rouse further suspicion.

“I fell asleep in these clothes.” As easy as the lie comes out, he doesn’t feel great saying it. Doesn’t feel like erasing the night he had shared with Poppy is for the greater good, even if it is just to Talia, but avoiding another difficult conversation is a must right now - especially when he’d already lied to her on the phone. “Was out late with the guys last night, Timo threw a party for my birthday.”

“Right,” she drags out, and when he turns back around, she casts a scrutinising glance over him, top to bottom. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“No worries,” he shrugs, genuinely not offended. She has no reason to remember his birthday. Not anymore. “Like I said, help yourself to whatever, I’ll try not to be long.” 

When he undresses for his shower, he’s thankful he hadn’t had the foresight to change in anticipation of Talia’s arrival. He probably would have donned a t-shirt and some shorts, oblivious to the visible indents on his thighs where Poppy had dug her nails in as she took him in her mouth.

His chest and torso are littered with scratches, some faint, some a little deeper, and he can’t get the right angle to see his back but he imagines they’re the same - the memory of her clutching at him as both of their climaxes approached is vivid enough for him to picture the marks she left behind.

He groans as the thought of her brings back that swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he notices the blooming arousal pool there, and feels himself harden as he steps under the spray of his shower.

If his phone had been on do not disturb through the night, he could be in the shower with Poppy, instead.

He could have woken up to her in his arms, could have pecked at her sleep-swollen lips until it brought her out of her slumber, and spent his morning making up for lost time just like he had promised her last night. He could have made light work of the pleasure he had given her the night before - could have had her underneath him in her bed, tangled up in the mess of sheets and falling apart before they shared a morning shower, where he’d have held her up against the tiles and would’ve moved into her until they couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He’d have made her breakfast, something sweet, so that as she sat and watched him atop the kitchen counter he had tasted her on for the first time not even 12 hours before, he’d press his tongue into her mouth after she had eaten and savour the flavour of strawberries that had settled between her lips.

Instead, he’s here, turning the temperature of his water down until any and all excitement in his body is dampened, and all he can focus on is the effect the cold has on all his other aching muscles.

Once he has showered and gotten dressed - and has come to the conclusion that any further thoughts about Poppy need to wait until the Talia problem is resolved and out of his hands, he finds his ex girlfriend sprawled across his couch, music playing from the speaker in the corner, and taking helping herself to a whole new level. 

Her case is opened where she had left it by the door, and she’s set herself a little vanity up on his coffee table, fixing her appearance before they leave.

She’s changed out of her mismatched sweats, has dressed herself in jeans and a sweater, and has found an extension cable long enough for her to plug in whatever hot tool she’s currently running through her hair.

“You take the longest showers in the history of man,” she rolls her eyes, not even casting a glance his way as she focuses on her own reflection in the little mirror she must have brought with her. “I do not want to know what it is you get up to in there.”

“I was barely 30 minutes, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, almost,” she runs the tool through her bangs until they flick out at the edges on either side of her face, and it reminds him of all the times he had watched her while waiting for her to finish getting ready. It makes him feel uneasy how familiar it all is, how she’s so quickly made herself at home again in his space.

He wants to tell her she needs to pack her stuff back up, that she won’t be staying here and needs to give his keys back, but the weight of the situation at hand dawns on him before he can open his mouth.

He’ll wait until they get back later, his decision depending on the outcome of their visit to her hacker friend.

As much as he doesn’t want her around, he isn’t going to kick her out with no place to go if her life is still shrouded in unsafe circumstances. 

Talia unplugs her stuff, wraps the cord around the handle of the brush she was using, and places it on a mat she must have brought with her so it doesn’t burn through the surface of the table. “Kay, let’s go.”

She marches ahead of him, picking up her bag and keys on the way out and leaving him to lock up while she calls for the elevator. They wait together in silence, his heart thudding an anxious rhythm in his chest as he anticipates the arrival of the elevator - and thankfully, it arrives empty.

He tries to distance himself from her as they enter, him standing in one corner, and hoping she takes the other, but she doesn’t quite get the memo, standing obliviously in the centre as she types away to someone on her phone and he presses the button to go to the basement.

Nico watches the numbers go down with bated breath. His floor, the next, the next one after that, and he uses any good will he has left with the universe to hope and pray it skips the floor coming up - but, as is just his luck, the elevator comes to a stop with a soft thud, and the doors open to reveal the very situation he’s been hoping to avoid. 

Jack walks straight in, eyes cast down to the phone in his hands, distractedly typing away and not even noticing the button for the parking level has been pressed before he pushes it, himself.

Luke notices straight away, halting in his movements to enter the space as his gaze flickers between the two people already occupying it. 

He diverts his eyes when they meet Nico’s head dropping as he steps in and stands beside his brother, uttering a quick greeting of, “Hey, Cap.”

Jack’s attention is captured immediately, spinning at an almost dizzying speed to face his captain, phone disregarded into his back pocket. “Schao! I thought you’d be at-,”

He’s thankfully able to tune into his perception before he carries on with his train of thought, a subtle movement in his peripheral diverting his gaze to the figure stood to the side of Nico. 

“Talia. Hi.”

“Hi, Jack.” Nico cringes inwardly at how disinterested she sounds. “Luke.” Talia had never really cared for Nico’s teammates - especially not the younger guys like Jack and Luke. She was quick to pass judgement, making comments on their maturity, or apparent lack-thereof, and wasn’t the biggest fan of how close Nico was with the pair. Didn’t like the time or attention he gave them considering the close quarters they lived in, and had always been resentful. She always claimed her English wasn’t good enough to hold a proper conversation with them, but he’d seen her enough around her American friends to know it wasn’t true.

“We’re just meeting up with some of the guys for breakfast.” Jack says, cautiously, in an attempt to fill the silence. The invitation remains unspoken, but Nico can tell in the way the younger boy cocks his head and meets his eye that he’s gauging his current situation for the morning.

“We have plans.” Talia must be able to tell what he was getting at, too and Nico can see Luke’s eyes narrow as soon as the word resonates in his head. Plans. Pre-meditated. Made before she had sprung all of this on him within the last hour or two. Panic stirs within him, and his throat itches to speak the truth, but it’s just not the right time to do so with Talia stood beside him. If he starts getting defensive, she’ll start asking questions, and the boys will have to bear witness to him skirting around the matter of Poppy. 

It’s not a good look no matter which way he swings it. He’s stuck in a thick, dark, tarry mess of not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings but making all the wrong decisions. A minefield of not knowing how to explain himself without raising a million questions on either side, and hoping one of the brothers might toe the line of the boundaries of their relationship and just straight up ask why Talia is here.

He knows he has fucked up without the way neither of them are looking him in the eye.

He knew it the second Poppy’s door had locked behind him this morning - he doesn’t need Luke refusing to meet his gaze, doesn’t need Jack’s shifting side eye to tell him he’s made a mistake. 

“I’ll text you later.” Nico says, mainly to Jack but still trying to meet his brother’s eyes with no luck. It’s an attempt to say something, without saying anything. A silent beg not to jump to conclusions about what they’ve seen - and, although he knows they wouldn’t, not to tell anyone else. Not whichever of the guys they are meeting up with, not anyone else on the team, and definitely not Poppy.

“Yeah, sure,” Jack mutters in a poor attempt to hide his discomfort, and an even worse attempt at masking his relief when the doors ping open on the parking level.

“Have fun with your plans,” Luke huffs out, his tone like a tight fist clutching at Nico’s chest despite his courteous choice of words.

“We will,” Talia forces a smile. Nico gets the feeling she isn’t as oblivious to the tension as he hopes she is.

The four of them separate into their pairs with mumbled goodbyes, Jack and Luke heading off to Luke’s car on one side of the garage, and Nico and Talia heading to his on the other, and Nico can’t even let out a sigh of pseudo-relief before Talia jumps on him.

“That was weird.”

“We broke up, they weren’t expecting to see us together.” He quickly excuses as he starts the car up, turning on the heat and hoping the soft buzz of the air will fill the silence enough that she doesn’t feel the need to talk. 

“It’s been like 3 weeks, most couples get back together after their first breakup.”

Has it only been 3 weeks? He thinks, shuddering at how little time had actually passed between her sending that text and him restoring balance to his life.

“We’re not most couples,” he shrugs, shutting that train of thought immediately as he starts to make his way out of the parking garage, ascending the ramp where the doors open up to reveal the dull beam of the winter morning sun. “You dumped me over text a week before Christmas, we’re not getting back together.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you were real cut up about it,” she jibes, sarcastically. “Probably landed straight in the bed of some desperate puck bunny more than happy to take your mind off of how awful I was to you.”

His mind immediately goes to Poppy, to last night, to her bed - and despite the complete bullshit Talia has fabricated in her head, despite how much he wants to tell her she has it all wrong, he can’t bear to twist himself even further into knots to skirt around mentioning the girl who did make him better.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” He decides, tapping at the screen in the console of his car until he brings up the navigation. “Put in the address you need, we’re not too far from The Heights.”

The location she enters into the system is for an unassuming condo in a quiet, suburban area. The neighbourhood itself is picturesque, the buildings colourful, the paths lined with trees that seemed to flourish even in the midst of winter, and when Nico pulls up across the street, he notices the amount of families around - parents walking their kids to school and couples with dogs getting their morning steps in. It’s the last place he imagines some hacker to be shacked up, but maybe that’s the point.

He still doesn’t entirely understand the ethical part.

“It’s the one with the red brick and the balcony,” Talia points to the other side of the road as she unbuckles her seatbelt, and Nico looks over at the building as if he’s going to be able to see all the secrets stored within it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, number 414.” She shows him the messages she has exchanged with the guy, and sure enough, the address matches up. “C’mon, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can figure this out.”

He follows her across the street, adjusting the cap he wears atop his head and making sure it conceals his identity from anyone with eyesight good enough to catch it, trying to shrug off the discomfort of the whole situation as he waits for someone to pick up the buzzer Talia relentlessly presses.

He hears a different kind of buzz, lighter, like the manual zoom of a camera, and cranes his neck to assess their surroundings as they wait, before he catches sight of the device in the top corner of the porch, facing directly onto them.

He hears the click of a lock as soon as his eyes make contact with the thing, and cautiously tries the handle on the door until it pushes all the way down, letting them into the building. 

The door to the ground floor condo is open, and stood in the entrance is a guy no older than 20, dressed in all black with dark, beady eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. If Nico could find it in him to see the humour in the situation, he’d laugh at how he looks like Luke - a mop of curly brown hair, tall with a slim build and ever so slightly poor posture.

He straightens up as the two of them approach, Nico keeping Talia behind him as he assesses the safety of the situation. If they’re being lured into some kind of trap, he could definitely take this guy - he can’t even maintain direct eye contact, never mind manage to subdue a man of Nico’s stature.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone, Talia.”

He’s soft-spoken, his voice ever so nasally, and despite the fact that he’s talking to the girl behind him, his gaze has settled on Nico’s chest.

“My name’s Nico.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand to shake. He thinks he can write him off as a threat, for now, and if making him feel comfortable encourages him to help them, he wants to put him at ease. “

“I know who you are.” He doesn’t shake Nico’s hand. “I’m Myles. Come in.”

Myles doesn’t wait for the two of them, marching back into his place and leaving the door open for Talia and Nico to enter and close behind them. 

Nico isn’t surprised by the space - from his brief encounter with the resident so far, it fits him to a tee; neat, impersonal, furniture that looks fresh out of a catalogue. He follows him over to the corner of his living room, a PC set up with several monitors that he can’t tell are on until they’re standing straight in front of them.

Myles throws himself down into the large swivel chair, spinning until he’s facing the two of them and crossing his arms over his torso with disinterest. “So, nudes?”

Straight to the point. Nico can’t exactly be mad at it.

Talia steps out from behind him, handing her unlocked phone to Myles. “The messages started last week, just after New Years. Straight to my number, not in DMs or anything, but the number doesn’t even come up for me to call it from another phone or anything, just says unknown.”

Myles takes her phone and plugs it into his setup without even looking at whatever she has opened on it, and Nico watches as the screens come alive with mirrors of the device and some other apps that launch as soon as it connects. 

“That’s more helpful than you think, they have to use an app to be able to anonymously text you, makes it easier to identify them.”

The way Myles talks is monotonous and detached, but the way he works is anything but. His fingers move quicker than Nico’s eyes can track on his keyboard, typing away at whatever as different things flash up and leave his screen. It like something straight out of a spy movie.

“So we can find out who it is just from that?” He asks, arms folding over his chest as he watches in almost-awe.

“Not exactly. If it is a hacker, I could identify their signature. Doesn’t mean I could identify them, but we can work around it potentially.”

Talia throws herself down on the couch behind them exasperatedly, sighing loudly and making her displeasure known. “You told me you could track them down, that’s what I’m paying you to do.”

“I told you I could help you, I didn’t say I could specifically track anyone, that’s not how this works.”

“How does it work then?” Nico asks.

Myles wheels his chair to the side to make room for Nico to get closer, and starts walking him through the process, pointing through the different apps he uses and explaining how he uses them. One deciphers which app the person used to message Talia. Once that’s been deduced, he uses another to enter a backdoor into that app’s servers, perusing through them until he finds the account that sent the text, making sure the date, time and then content line up. Once he’s found the account, he can see the other texts sent from it, and a gallery spreads across two screens, with maybe hundreds of pictures, videos, messages and transactions all to or from that same account.

“You’re telling me you have the power to do all this and you don’t use it to like rob banks or something?”

“Ethical hacker, clue’s in the name.” Myles shrugs. Nico looks back to Talia, her jaw set as she picks at her nails out of boredom. It’s probably taken about fifteen minutes for this guy to work an absolute miracle, and she looks like she couldn’t care less. “We use all this information, and the access I have on the server, to shut this dude down and cut his con before he can do it to anyone else.”

“Whoa whoa,” Talia shoots up, “Won’t that make him mad? Make him just post all the photos?”

“I doubt it,” the hacker comments, bringing up a couple of the photos on the screens, some of Talia, some of another girl, making Nico divert his eyes. “They’re not even real.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

Talia and Nico both question at the same time, leaning in to get a proper look to confirm what is being told to them. The other pictures Myles had brought up, the ones of other girls, are actually kind of the same. The same poses, the same backgrounds, the same outfits, or lack thereof, just different faces and different hair.

“They’re called deep fakes. Photoshop, essentially.” He has that aloof tone to his words again, and Nico can’t quite believe how simple it seems for him to say. “They put a bunch of your pictures into an AI generator and give it instruction, like put this face on a body posed like this or wearing that. I’d assume the video they have is the same.”

“How is that even possible?” Talia gasps, pushing herself forward and snatching the mouse from Myles’ grasp. She clicks into what she assumes is the video, and it starts playing before she can think better of it, thankfully without any sound. 

It’s Talia - that much is obvious from the initial close up of her face - but Nico doesn’t recognise anything else about it. He doesn’t recognise the room she’s in, the bed she’s on, the things she’s doing. He’s never seen this before. It’s definitely not one of the videos she had sent him, and when he looks closer, he realises the little moles on her ribs aren’t even there.

None of it is real.

“You said he sent you the photos? You didn’t realise they weren’t the ones you took?” He can’t conceal the bite in his tone, his brows furrowing as he looks at her in disbelief. She’s flown out here, disrupted his peace, blamed him for blackmailing her, and she can’t even recognise what is or isn’t her own body. 

“They looked real, I-,” Her shock disappears as quickly as it had come about, her mood shifting and a glare all of a sudden being directed at her ex boyfriend. “I wouldn’t have accused you if they didn’t look real, Nico.” She snaps, frowning at him like this is his fault. “You have no idea what it’s like to be threatened like that, I won’t have you blame me for panicking.”

Slivers of guilt seep into his subconscious, and he takes a deep breath, diverting his gaze uneasily and letting out a big sigh.

He knows he should be a little more compassionate, but there’s panicking, and then there’s this.

She had accused him of ruining her life.

“What about the rest of it?” Nico asks, “Like how did he get her number or have my address? You said he had other information?”

“He did,” Talia nods, looking over to Myles.

“The address he probably got when he got your number, and he could have got that from anywhere. Could be something as small as you ordering something online and the store having a data breach, or clicking a link that shared your IP address, and getting your phone information from that.” Myles starts his typing again, keeping a tight grip on his mouse so that it can’t be snatched again. “I could probably find out actually, they’re pretty easy to spot, do you clear your history often?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to do that,”

“Perfect,” Again, his fingertips work at lightening speed, and Nico watches as instagram opens on one of the screens. “Yeah, a DM sent to you from… Devils_tea. You opened a link to a shared drive to upload some pictures, the drive probably had malware and the pictures have location metadata.”

Nico rolls his eyes, that small ebb of pity washing almost completely away, and before Talia can stop him, Myles carries on. “Some of the pictures you sent them are the ones they used for the AI photos, look your face in this one is the exact same as this photo they threatened to leak.”

Nico recognises these photos. The ones that had been plastered all over social media when their relationship had leaked. Pictures of them back in Switzerland, on a weekend trip to Ibiza, selfies of them in his apartment, and even a picture of the two of them with his parents back at his family home in Valais.

He has been far too oblivious to Talia’s games for far too long, he realises. 

Of course she had been the one to leak everything - who else would have had those photos - but he hadn’t even considered it would be her; she had faced the harshest aftermath for it, why would she subject herself to all the subsequent grief that came with people knowing about their relationship?

Thank God for this guy’s lack of social cues, Nico thinks, or he would never have known that for as long as they had been together, she had been violating his revered privacy and trust.

“Nico, that wasn’t-,” Talia’s panic is evident, wide eyes, trembling hands raised in defence, “I must have been hacked,”

“Actually, there’s no-,” Myles begins to interject, fingers working again to fact check, but Nico doesn’t need him to validate what he already knows.

“Shut up,” Talia snarls, with a finger pointed at him, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re done here.” She reaches forward to snatch her phone back, yanking out the wire that connects it to his monitors and throwing it onto the desk. “We’re leaving, and if you think I’m paying you anything, you’re deluded.” 

Talia marches past them and straight out of the condo, slamming every door she possibly can behind her. Nico can only cringe as the sounds of her stomping footsteps echo until they fade out - until she’s probably outside and waiting for him back at his car.

“Doesn’t she want me to shut this thing down?”

“I’ll pay you.” Nico sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone and trying to push down the feeling that arises when he’s met with a blank lock screen.

Poppy hasn’t messaged him. 

Not that he deserves for her to make it easy, to let him off the hook and pretend he hasn’t royally fucked things up with her.

“If you stop him, does he still have all the photos? He could still release them?”

“Yeah, but they’re pretty easy to validate as fakes, especially when you have the source material. I don’t think this guy is sophisticated enough for a full blown hack into her phone for the real thing. I couldn’t find evidence of any breach of her cloud or her device.”

Nico nods, but the information does little to quell the anxiety that squeezes his chest in a vice-like grip. 

This whole morning has been nothing but a giant waste of his time. From the second his eyes opened, to this moment right now, he’s made nothing but mistakes.

Not putting his phone on sleep mode before he and Poppy went to bed had been a mistake. Taking Talia’s call had been a mistake. Not waking Poppy up had been a mistake. Leaving without a note, without a text, leaving at all - it had all been one error after another, and all he has left to do is face up to the fact.

He can’t do anything to dwindle the panic rousing in every fibre of his being, the scarring marks left by torturous lashings of regret that whip at his skin.

He’s never felt so ashamed of himself, in such disbelief at his own decisions.

Why didn’t he just wake her?

She’s the most level-headed, acceptable person he knows. She would have understood. He hadn’t had a reasonable explanation at the time, and he doesn’t really have one now - but she would have accepted it, whatever he could have told her, she would have listened, waited until he could give her more.

He needs to see her, to explain, before it’s too late.

If he thinks about the feeling settling in his stomach, if he can compare it to anything, it’s like running from a blazing inferno of doubt and insecurity, licks of fire racing to catch up to him, the soles of his feet pressing into the sizzling ground - and Poppy is the cool embrace of safety.

She is light cracking through a window he just needs to break through to make it out.

If he can get to her quick enough, if he runs, and runs, maybe he’ll make it before he’s jiggling at a red hot handle that won’t move, won’t give, won’t budge.

If he can just talk to her, maybe the morning from hell will be outweighed by the days of resilience, weeks of efforts, years of loving her in whatever capacity, and the promise of something better.

He just needs to get rid of Talia.

The car journey back to his apartment is carried out in a deafening silence. She had tried to talk to him when he’d made his way out of Myles’ condo, when he had found her waiting by his Mercedes with crossed arms and a sour look on her face, but he’d told her he didn’t want to hear it, that they’d deal with it in private.

He hardly wanted a showdown with her in the middle of the street.

And so, she sat in his passenger seat, jaw set, glaring out the window and letting out the occasional huff or puff for attention that he wasn’t entertaining.

The elevator ride up to his place had been the same. Silent, filled with the type of tension you could cut with a knife, and all he could do was ignore her continued petulance and take deep breaths to calm himself down. In through his nose, out through his mouth, overlooking the way she tapped her foot in his peripheral vision, and almost audibly rolled her eyes every few seconds. 

“Would it have killed you to defend me in there?” She scoffs as soon as the door closes behind them in his apartment, “You just let him accuse me of all that stuff and completely invade my privacy!”

Nico screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He can’t blow up, can’t stoop to her level. He won’t feel good after the fact. He knows how Talia operates, should have known she’d immediately play the victim card, and he isn’t falling into the trap of arguing to the point of being in the wrong.

He’ll say something he regrets and she’ll use it to her advantage, somehow.

“You asked him to go through your phone, Talia.” He sighs, making his way over to the kitchen and getting himself some water. Chugging at it does little to soothe the burning feeling prickling at the back of his mouth, or the itch of his tongue to spit out a scathing retort. “He’s shut down the guy behind it, he can’t message you or anyone else with any more threats, you should be happy.”

“I should be happy?” She follows him wherever he tries to get away, crowding his space and jabbing a pointed finger into his arm. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through this past week. I thought my career was over! How was I supposed to know it was fake?”

“You didn’t even look at the pictures-,”

“Because I was panicking! I was upset, you can’t expect me to be able to recognise what’s been photoshopped when I’m scared like that!”

“But you can fly straight over here and pin the blame on me for ruining your life? You weren’t too upset to point the finger, Talia,”

“Don’t be an asshole, Nico, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“I’m being the asshole? You don’t even care about the trail of destruction you leave behind you, do you? You send private pictures of us, of me, of my family to random people online who you don’t even know, for what, Talia? For money?”

“I don’t need their money-,”

“So it was just for the attention? You get to parade our relationship around like it means nothing more to you than a title, and once you get your fifteen minutes and a few more instagram followers, you just jet back home and dump me over a text?”

“Oh my God,” she cries, flailing her arms dramatically, following him yet again as he makes his way into his living room, picking her stuff up after her that she had discarded here before they left and throwing it into her travel bag. “Stop playing the victim, for Christ’s sake, you’re hardly heartbroken over it. I know for a fact you’ve been hooking up with someone, one of the girls messaged me that they saw you leave a party with her on New Years!”

“So that’s what this is?” Nico snaps, pointing to her, to her stuff, “You think I’m moving on so you fly back out here and spring this bullshit on me, try to make me feel bad?”

“You have some nerve, Nico,” Talia scoffs, folding her arms across her chest and levelling him with a darkened glare.

“I have nerve? You’re the one who broke up with me out of nowhere and think that you can just march back here and make demands, Talia, blaming me for something that was entirely your own doing.” He’s getting sick of walking on egg shells around the topic. If she hadn’t have been messaging people she wasn’t supposed to, this would never have happened - it’s no one’s fault but her own, and as harsh as it may be, he wants to wash his hands of the whole thing. “Calling me in the middle of the night, telling me I ruined your life, saying I need to give you money?”

“Out of nowhere?” Of course she would only pick up on that, he thinks. “My God, you are so self-absorbed.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think that dating you is easy?” She questions with a measured step toward him. “Do you think I want to spend my life waiting around for my boyfriend, only for him to only ever come home grumpy,” another step, “Or whiny,” and another, “Or too tired and achey to do anything? And that’s when you do come home at all and aren’t half way across the country with the communication skills of a candle. It’s a constant uphill battle trying to get even a second of your attention, Nico, so God forbid I tried to gain some kind of advantage from being with you.”

Her words are starting to cut, but he tries not to react, tries not to bite back. He can count several ways in which she gained an advantage being with him, just off the top of the head - a girl like Talia is never shy of attention. Her courting gossip blogs and sending them private information is probably just scraping the barrel of the ploys she made for exposure while she was with him.

“I didn’t break up with you out of nowhere, I put up with you and the whole circus that comes with you for months, but God, is it exhausting being with you.”

“You knew what you were getting into, Talia. You knew my job, knew my life.” They had met initially through mutual friends - hockey friends of his back home, even - and she has other friends who happen to be wives or girlfriends of athletes. She can’t say she came into the relationship completely oblivious to the downsides of dating a professional player.

“Not really,” she shrugs, “All the other guys can find some sort of balance, but not you. All the other girls get a proper boyfriend, someone who spends time doing what they want to do, who sticks up for them when their psycho fans start to turn on them, who doesn’t keep them hidden away like some dirty secret.”

“That isn’t fair, I can’t control that stuff, Talia, it’s not my fault.” He wants to point out that she was the one engaging in their gossip and riling them up, but he can’t keep harping on about something she refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t have the time, patience or energy for it anymore.

The initial ‘leaking’ of their relationship had caused their first major fight. Fans online had somehow - although Nico can now hazard a guess as to how - found out about the two of them, had dug into Talia, her background, her family, her job, and had found some pretty toxic posts on her social media. They had been old posts, and she had told Nico that wasn’t the kind of person she was anymore - and he had no reason not to believe her, had never seen or heard her act in the ways she had online in what she called her misguided youth - but someone in the PR department at the Devils had cottoned onto the topic, and had warned Nico of speaking out in her defence when the pitchforks started to raise.

He’d told her he supported her, but he couldn’t do so publicly - not without upsetting people within the organisation he had worked so hard to gain the respect of - and she had told him she understood. They hadn’t been together that long, it would have been a little unreasonable for him to put her above his work in the ways she was expecting, but she clearly doesn’t see it that way, now.

“Maybe not, but if I’d have known that being with you meant having my life invaded, my career ruined, I never would have followed you back here, Nico.” She sounds more solemn now - regretful, even - and as deep as her words cut, she says it like a piece of advice, “I just hope whatever poor girl you’ve got tangled up in your mess this time knows what she’s getting herself into.”

“And what’s that?” His throat feels tight as he speaks all of a sudden, his resolve in defending himself fading, and he tries to gulp down whatever lump is forming there but the feeling doesn’t budge.

This is what she’s good at.

Turning the tables. Reducing him to uncertainty of himself, of his actions, of his memory of their time together.

“A one-sided relationship with a guy who will never be able to put her first.”

There’s a point in every game he has ever had the misfortune of losing, as the seconds count down in the final third, where he has to come to terms with the fact that there’s no possible way for him to win. It’s sort of comparable to the way his insides churn when he’s on a plane and it drops into descent, like his body is falling at a different speed to his surroundings, or the feeling he gets in his gut when he’s hiking, and he dares to take a peek over the edge of whatever mountainside he’s trekking up, where his body can predict the fall, and his mind has set on there being nothing he can do about it.

This feels like all those feelings.

“Whoever she is, and I know she exists, she doesn’t deserve that. It’s not fair.”

Nico’s heart pounds in his chest, echoing and thrumming in his ears until all he can hear is the beat reverberating, ricocheting around his skull.

He can put Poppy first.

So many parts of their lives are intertwined, it would be so easy to make it work. They work together, they live close, he speaks to her more than he speaks to anyone else in his circle. They’ve spent more time together as friends than he has with any other girlfriend he’s had.

He’s wanted her for years, of course he can do it.

Except, deep down, he knows he can’t. Being in a committed relationship with someone is an entirely different ball game to a friendship, no matter how close he and Poppy have been over the years.

He knows there’ll come a point soon into the season where he has to knuckle down and focus, can’t let anything or anyone distract him, and he’ll close himself off. It’s what he has always done. He gets in his head, starts to carry too much weight that he can’t shift until that final buzzer blows - and he can only hope that it happens with his team in the playoffs. Winning, thriving, succeeding. And for that to happen, he can’t prioritise anything other than the game he’s already dedicated his life to, his training, and most importantly, his team.

It isn’t about what he wants.

What have you done? He thinks, his chest aching.

Talia is right.

Poppy doesn’t deserve that.

She doesn’t deserve him only being there in the physical sense, if she even gets that at all. Doesn’t deserve him getting snappy and stressed, doesn’t deserve him not being able to give her time, or give her attention or affection like he wants to, or like she’s worthy of.

“I need to go.” He manages to choke out with a shake of his head, shouldering past her to pick up his jacket - needing to be out of this conversation and away from Talia. “Leave the keys, I don’t want you here when I get back.”

He needs to see Poppy.

He never should have left her - he wishes with everything in him that he had soaked up the time he had with her before everything came tumbling down around him. And somewhere deep within him, there is a fragile, wilting piece of hope that clings to the belief he can make things right. He just needs her to hone in on it. If anyone can reach into the deepest cracks of his insecurities, can show him he’s overthinking things and everything is not as hopeless as he has made it out to be, it will be Poppy.

Poppy

The first time Poppy had ever fallen asleep beside Nico was at a movie night in Jack’s old apartment he shared with Ty Smith. Jack had invited more people round than could reasonably fit in their living room, and so everyone was smushed in - each chair and every inch of floor space used to its full capacity. 

Nico had attempted to save Poppy a space, to give him credit. He had scowled at each of his teammates who tried to throw themselves down in the tiny slot beside him - prime space, corner of the comfiest couch, facing the tv directly, a small table to the side where one could keep their drinks and snacks - only, by the time Poppy got there, he had barely gotten away with man-spreading to make room, so the small section of the couch between Nico and the arm rest had become her designated spot.

It was cosy, to put it nicely. He had to swing his arm over the back so that she wasn’t being assaulted by the hard dig of his shoulder with every laugh, and her closest leg was pretty much on top of his for most of the film.

She’d known the guys for almost a year - had been working in media, attending every game, home and away, and had integrated herself into the group pretty closely - and she felt pretty comfortable around everyone.

It wasn’t the kind of dynamic she had anticipated falling into when she first got the job with the Devils. She was supposed to start getting serious about her life - cracking down on mingling with co-workers and throwing herself into new social circles, and focusing on building a career for herself, climbing through the ranks and attaining the kind of success and happiness she could shove in her family’s disapproving faces - but the guys had charmed her.

Jack had been somewhat relentless in his pursuit of Poppy’s friendship. He rarely took no for an answer when it came to inviting her out. He was new to New Jersey - a much younger player in a slightly older team - and his rookie season had been rough, so it came naturally to Poppy to want to provide comfort. She introduced him to some of her friends, showed him her favourite spots close to his apartment, found him a decent barber, picked up extra fruit whenever she went to the farmers market near her parent’s house and took it over to his and Ty’s place when she came back home so she could mother him into having his 5-a-day as if he didn’t have access to the best nutrition coaches in the country. Despite her best efforts, Jack had weaselled his way under her skin in the way only a brother could.

Nico’s charm was entirely different.

Nico’s charm came in the form of convenience at first - in the oh I live that way, I can drive you and I have some time, I can do some media stuff for you type of way. Convenience blended into companionship - I haven’t eaten either, we should go for lunch together and I’ve been wanting to watch that movie, do you want to watch it with me?

It turned into grabbing food together, even on days neither of them were working - breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, even coffee or sometimes drinks if they could meet up with the rest of the team. It turned into him spending time at her place, whether it was helping her paint her apartment, putting up her new wardrobes, or just binging whatever crazy long series Poppy had decided to start over from the beginning - she provided him with a sense of familiarity and calm he couldn’t really find in anyone else he had met in his time in the states. She became his person, his home away from home, away from home.

And he became hers. 

There wasn’t as much she had to escape; her job not as strenuous, the expectations of her not as high, but when things built up for her - when her mother became overbearing, or her latest endeavour into a relationship crashed and burned - Nico was there. He’d make sure she had a distraction, made sure she was looking after herself, and, in turn, would look after her as well. He made sure she got home safe on nights out, or when they returned from a roadie and landed late - he would always make sure to see her off into the comfort of her own home before he went back to his own. 

And that first time she’d fallen asleep beside him, he’d done the same.

He’d wrapped an arm around her to make her as comfortable as possible for as long as he could, and when the movie had finished - when her face was burrowed into the side of his chest, soft snores falling from between her lips - he gently drew her back to consciousness with his hand stroking at her cheek.

She’d been a little startled, hand shooting up to wipe at her chin and thankful she hadn’t been drooling on him - although with the easy smile he was giving her, she had thought he of all people wouldn’t have minded. 

“Movie’s done, do you need a ride home?” His voice had been low and soft as not to worsen her apparent disorientation, and his hand was still lingering by the side of her face.

She had nodded, blinking away her sleepiness, and working her way up from the couch and onto her feet, stretching out her muscles as Nico did the same.

The two of them bid their goodbyes to the rest of the guys, made their way together to Nico’s car, and he had driven her back to her apartment, chatting on the drive about work and training. 

Poppy had been cramming to prepare for her interview for the Foundation at the time - had been getting herself seriously worked up, staying up late, getting up early, barely allowing herself any time for anything fun - and Nico had seen right through her. 

He’d stopped her before she got out of the car, had held her hand, rubbing at her knuckles with his thumb, and had told her that she should get some proper rest, and that she was going to absolutely rock their world in her interview in a few days time. And, knowing she was going to ignore any instruction he gave to make herself some decent dinner and go to bed early, had ordered her favourite Japanese takeout to be delivered a good half an hour after she got inside, with a text that followed telling her to sleep straight after she had finished.

She’d never expected to drift asleep with him on Jack’s couch - had never expected to open her eyes to the sight of his looking so warmly back at her.

And she hadn’t expected the same thing this morning, because, as her eyes drifted open to the intrusive light peaking through the cracks in her curtains, it wasn’t the first time she had woken up.

The first time had been to subdued movements, a slight groan of her bed frame, and the soft pattering of footsteps leading away. It had been to a hushed voice, the creak of her bathroom door, the flush of a toilet and the uttering of a name she had hoped she would never have to worry about again.

Talia.

The rest of his words had been uttered in his own language, but that she could understand.

She had acted purely on fight or flight instinct, laying back and pretending she was asleep - although as soon as she did, she regretted it, her mind racing at the million and one other possibilities she could have gone with. Sitting up, waiting for him to come out and asking him what was going on being the most rational.

But when had she ever gone with the most rational thought?

She tried not to react as she felt his presence, felt the soft press of his lips to her skin, or the placement of her bunny in her arms. Tried not to follow him as soon as he departed her bedroom, beg him to come back and whatever was going on could wait until the proper turn of the morning. Tried not to get up and go after him when the click of the lock to her main door echoed throughout the empty apartment.

And she tried not to cry as she laid in bed, overthinking herself back to sleep, thoughts racing to the point of exhaustion, and hoping when she woke up again it had just been a god-awful dream.

But it hadn’t.

The spot beside her in bed is empty, not even a crease in the pillow to prove he was ever there - only the t-shirt of his she still adorned, the one that when she takes a deep inhale, still smells like him, and the distinct aching between her thighs.

She finds more evidence of their night together in the bathroom, where she undresses herself with sore muscles and glances in the mirror to see the spattering of purple marks forming on her chest and neck. Her fingers trace over them lightly, her fleeting touch bringing vivid images forth of his lips pressing to her skin, practically able to feel the pressure of her flesh being nipped and bitten again.

He had been so attentive to her - so in tune with what she needed and wanted, and so ready to give her whatever that may be. He’d been gentle at some points, and purposeful at others, and every little thing he did, he did it with sweet disposition.

The kind of man who treats a girl like that doesn’t just leave her in the dead of night with no good reason, right?

Her mind races despite her body going into auto-pilot throughout her morning routine. Her shower is over in the flash of an eye, she strips her bed, starts her laundry, makes herself some tea and gets herself dressed - all the while weighing out all the possibilities of what could have taken him away from her, and what she would be able to understand. 

That quickly turns to her imagining the worst, and a tight, constricting feeling starts to consume her chest. 

There isn’t a single part of her apartment she can get away from the thoughts buzzing around her brain - her kitchen marred with the memory of what had happened on the counter, her couch, her bedroom, her bathroom - all carrying distinct memories of Nico that she needs to bench until she knows the truth.

She mistakenly thinks her escape might lie in her phone. There might be a text there waiting, explaining everything and relieving all the anxiety that has welled up in her very core.

Nia’s warnings from the night before don’t ring quick enough in her mind as the screen comes to life, the immediate barrage of notifications flooding in.

2 missed calls from Mom

Mom: Just calling to remind you of proper table etiquette in case it has slipped your mind, I won’t have you embarrass me in front of a Lyon.

Mom: Cutlery going from the outside in, hold your wine glass by the stem and dab with your napkin, don’t swipe!

Mom: Also let the man tuck your chair in and pay the bill, this 21st century woman nonsense is very unbecoming!

Mom: And I don’t want to have to bring this up but for the love of God, Poppy, have some class. I don’t want to hear mutterings of your promiscuity at the next luncheon.

Whoever taught her mom to text deserves a prison sentence, she thinks.

Tucker Lyon standing a girl up and ghosting her attempts to contact him is what’s unbecoming, not her trying to pay her half of the meal.

She can picture her mother as she reads the texts, sipping on her Manhattan on the couch in the great room, her dad already having retreated to bed at that time, and her having nothing better to do than sit and stew on her daughter’s sex life.

If she knew what was really going down last night, her mom would probably have a conniption.

Knowing she’ll no doubt be getting a call later that evening, Poppy swipes away at her text thread with her mom, immediately checking the notifications she hasn’t long received from her best friend.

Nia: hey if you happen to release yourself from Nico’s wandering hands at all today me and Kelsey are grabbing breakfast by my work!!

Nia: if you need refuelling we’ll be at Marco’s at 9 😘 

Perfect. Therein lies her escape. Breakfast with her best friends, where they can hopefully talk her down from the ledge she’s precariously placed herself on.

A catch up with her girls, and then she can distract herself with work.

Poppy: I’ll be there!!

“Hasn’t he text you or anything?” Nia asks, covering her mouth as she chews on her breakfast bagel, the three girls sat around a table inside their favourite cafe close to Nia’s office.

When Poppy and Nia had first moved in together, they rented an apartment in Hoboken, not too far, and their tradition of grabbing breakfast at Marco’s carried on despite Poppy living further down the river and working even further away in Newark. 

Kelsey had lived in Manhattan at that time, but she stayed over so often with the other girls that she practically spent majority of her week there, and so Poppy and Nia’s routine became hers.

Poppy had given the two of them a brief rundown of her night with Nico, a safe-for-work version of events, all leading up to the mysterious early morning phone call and swift departure.

“Nope,” she sighs, swiping to refresh her messages as if she hasn’t put her phone on loud just to be alerted when he does reach out.

“Have you text him?”

“Nope,” she repeats, putting the phone down and leaning back in her chair, running a hand through her already messed up hair. She’s going to have to throw it up if she wants to look any sort of presentable when she gets to work later.

“Is he usually this pathetic at communicating?” Kelsey asks, manicured nails swiping at a bunch of Sweet’n Lows like she’s trying to play Tetris with the packets. 

Kelsey hasn’t met Nico before, not that Poppy can remember.

Despite considering her one of her closest friends, their personal lives have never quite intertwined like that - not like hers and Nia’s.

In college, things were different. They were coming into their own together, figuring out just what they wanted their personal lives to be, and so Kelsey, Poppy and Nia would all share pretty much everything, just to have someone there to validate their feelings.

But that changed once they graduated.

Kelsey moved in with her boyfriend, Liam - who just so happens to be Poppy’s idea of hell-spawn.

The kind of guy her mother would probably love.

Liam worked on Wall Street, couldn’t go five minutes of conversation without talking about stocks or investment funds. His native language was risky money moves and belittling remarks, and he treated Kelsey like an accessory to parade around in public and discard in private.

Poppy had tried a few times to open Kelsey’s eyes to the way that it was, but it soon became apparent that she had to let her friend make her own mistakes, and some parts of their lives didn’t have to cross over.

They broke up around Thanksgiving, and Poppy had tried with all her might not to show her relief, but it has made her somewhat resentful when it comes to other relationships - like no one can be happy if she isn’t.

She knows it isn’t malicious, but she restrains from letting Kelsey all the way in, all the same.

“Not really,” Poppy lies, not wanting to clue her in on the Big Freezewhere he didn’t speak to her for months on end. It doesn’t entirely help her case. “I just don’t get why he’d sneak out to see her of all people, he told me they weren’t ever that solid, that he wasn’t happy with her.”

“Ooh, what if she’s pregnant?” Kelsey is entirely oblivious to the horrific realm of possibility she has just opened Poppy up to, evidenced by the casual chuckle and subsequent sip of her coffee. “Maybe she’s back to baby-trap him.”

Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.

Nico is a family guy - if Talia is pregnant, he’d force himself to love her again, if he ever even stopped, for the sake of their gorgeous brown eyed, floppy haired baby, and push Poppy to the side just like he had before. And she’ll have to watch him from the sidelines, yearning for what she had just managed to touch the tips of her fingers to before it was violently yanked from her grasp. 

Maybe she’d have to flee the country even - move somewhere remote where she doesn’t even have the chance of being reminded of hockey, let alone of him.

Somewhere with no coffee shops that she’d enter, and the smell of fresh pastries would remind her of all the breakfasts they had together. No railways, where she’d be reminded of his love for model trains every time she came across the tracks. No weird club music that he loves so much, or dorky wizard franchises he chastises her for never having seen.

Maybe Antarctica. They only have penguins there. No real civilisation that she knows of. No brown haired, dark eyed Swiss Gods with deep, honeyed voices that make her knees weak and dimpled smiles that do even worse.

She wouldn’t be able to cope with losing him like that, living her life in an endless mental cycle of what ifs and maybes.

“Kelsey, I beg of you to read the room,” Nia chastises, swatting the girl on her arm before taking Poppy’s hand in her own. “Don’t listen to her, she just wants us all to be single at the same time.”

“Sue me for wanting to have fun! It would be just like college, you and me full-body plunging into the dating pool. Imagine the chaos, Pop, you don’t wanna be tied down to a guy hung up on his ex right now.”

“Dating pool?” Nia scoffs, turning to glare at her, “You’re hardly dry from your last relationship.”

“I’d rather be a grape than a raisin, Ni.” Kelsey chides back, and Poppy can’t help the twitch of her lips at the horrific comparison. 

“You’re really gonna listen to a girl who says that?” Nia asks, unable to mask the glint of humour in her eyes, and Kelsey bites back a smile, too.

Despite the ache in her chest at the thought of any of it - of Nico leaving her this morning, filling her up with empty words and false promises, potentially knocking up an ex girlfriend he is still secretly hung up on even though he told her otherwise - she manages to crack a full smile.

“You are terrible at analogies, Kels,” Poppy tries to hide the grin behind her cup, sipping at her tea and letting the warmth of it soothe the pain in her throat. 

“I’m trying to encourage you to be a strong, independent woman here!”

“She is a strong, independent woman,” Nia defends, “She also happens to be a chronic over-thinker with a deep seated fear of confrontation.”

“I don’t fear confrontation.”

“Then why are we here chit-chatting about hypothetical scenarios when you could just text him and ask what’s up?”

“Maybe ‘cause that’s scary?” Poppy scoffs, only half joking. “What am I supposed to say, hey I just so happened to eavesdrop on your private conversation before you fled my apartment this morning, and despite me not understanding most of it, I definitely heard you mention someone, so could you just let me know if your gorgeous model ex girlfriend is pregnant with your perfect specimen baby?”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, you don’t even need us.”

Poppy rolls her eyes.  

She could text him. Could be casual about it, a good morning or even an are you okay? Those don’t warrant the alarm bells she’s afraid of raising - the ones that blare out with the siren sound of run, this girl is unhealthily attached to you already!

But she doesn’t want to be the pathetic girl chasing after the guy sending her clear messages that he doesn’t want her.

It’s easier said than done not to overthink the whole thing - not to second guess everything he had said, or everything she had done last night.

She feels like she had rushed things. It was so impulsive, so charged, and after spending the majority of her week away from him, she just hadn’t been able to help herself. And that makes her feel like a hypocrite. She had told him that night he had first kissed her that things between them had gotten intense. It had been the whole reason for spending a few days outside of each other’s company, and in the first possible instance, she had thrown herself at him.

It was desperate.

And maybe that scared him.

It sure as hell scares her.

“I don’t know what to do,” She groans, throwing her head into her hands and scrunching her eyes shut to try and drown out the endless doubt. 

She feels two hands rub at either sides of her back, “Listen, Pop,” Nia is the first to attempt to console her, as always, and Poppy holds her breath for the harsh reality check she’s about to throw her way. “You know I am the one person who would usually be trying to convince you to cut your losses and run when it comes to guys who are no good, but this is Nico. I’ve watched the two of you ignore your feelings for far too long to let you get in your own way, now.

“And you’re forgetting I saw him last night, before you got there, there isn’t a chance in Hell he would have left you like that without a good reason. I don’t for a second think he’s still hung up on her.” Nia casts a side eye to Kelsey.

The only problem is that Poppy isn’t sure there’s a reason good enough. Not when it comes to Talia. Not when the memory of those months of radio silence is still so fresh for her.

“I have to go to work in a building where his face is plastered everywhere, Ni, I can hardly forget his entire existence until he deems me worthy of an explanation. Who leaves after a night like that without even a note or a text?”

“An idiot,” Kelsey mutters around her drink, rolling her eyes when Nia sends her another death-glare.

“I’m not asking you to forget, I’m telling you to wait.” Nia frowns, but her tone remains consoling and warm. “You need to stop letting what this thinks,” she flicks at Poppy’s forehead, “Get in the way of what this knows.” She points to her chest on the left side. “You know him. You know how much he likes you.”

She does.

She knows Nico, she trusts him.

She can only judge him based on his actions so far - the ones that tell her that he cares. He leads with his heart, it’s his most attractive attribute. He’s gentle and loving and she needs to focus on those things over anything else.

“Ugh, corny,” Kelsey drags, and despite her repeated efforts to discourage her, Poppy knows she isn’t being entirely serious. “If he has any non-stupid hot athlete friends though, I’m first in line when the two of you kiss and make up for double dates.”

Guilt pricks slightly at Poppy’s chest - for making her recently single friend sit here and listen to her complain about something so monumentally small compared to the breakdown of the long-term relationship Kelsey had just endured. Even if it was perceivably toxic.

“You’d make such a good WAG, Kels.”

It’s a poor attempt to make up for it, but it seems to console her friend all the same, a giant grin breaking out and flashing her perfect pearly whites.

“I know.”

Poppy tries to distract herself with work. Tries to make her way through her inbox of seemingly never ending emails and her list of ever-growing tasks. She types up lengthy responses, puts together a presentation, makes a bunch of phone calls she’s been putting off for God knows how long, sorts all her invoices out - she even sends a fax. In the year 2024. It’s her most productive work day she thinks she’s ever had.

She zeroes in on the ground every time she moves through the building. Ignores the pictures that line the walls of the Rock, pushes down the memories of all the times she’s walked these very halls by Nico’s side, and she thinks she’s done just about enough to clear her mind for the time being.

She hasn’t thought up some heart wrenching scenario in at least an hour by the time she’s wrapping up for the day.

She’s making her way back to her office after dropping some files off for Elaine when she catches sight of a mop of curls over the top of the chair by her desk.

Luke is sat in her chair when she enters, swivelling around and staring at the ceiling.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick doing that, you know.”

“You’re such a mom,” he scoffs, standing up and clearly trying not to sway, “You ever tried having fun? I think I saw a glue stick on a table out there,” he points through the door into the wider office space, where there are a few, less private cubicles and a common area. “We should go sniff them, let loose a little.”

“Is that why you’re here on your day off? To huff glue?”

“Yeah, I don’t get to let loose enough. Being a rookie in the NHL is hard, Poppy,”

“Bummer for you.” She pouts, mockingly, swerving past him as he rounds her desk and sits on the other side, flicking at the bobblehead version of his older brother that stands by her computer. “If you’re chasing a high can you do it with one of the other departments, it’s not a good look for the Youth Foundation.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

When Luke had first joined the Devils, she hadn’t expected that she would warm to him the way she has - but, surprisingly enough, considering the fact they’re brothers, their relationship recently has started to mirror her and Jack’s.

Luke is funny. He’s sarcastic and a little silly, and it can be nice to have him around when work gets a little stressful. He doesn’t let the pressures of his own career outweigh those of hers, and, despite the gap in age, she actually enjoys his company.

But he never seeks her out like this.

Their interactions have always started through other people. Group conversations that dwindle to just the two of them, or he usually accompanies Jack to bug her and carries on when Jack’s ever-so-busy schedule takes him elsewhere.

She can’t think of another time he’s just shown up in her office alone.

Especially on his incredibly rare day off.

“Why are you actually here?” She asks, casting a suspicious but half-playful glare his way as she starts to pack up her things. 

“Came to see if you wanted to join us for dinner.”

“Aw Lukey,” she reaches over her desk to pinch his cheek, “I’m flattered and all but I’m a little too old for you.”

“Ha ha,” he swats her hand away, “Us. Me and Jack. Maybe a couple of the others if they’re free but you can pick where we go if you make a decision quickly, we were thinking a steakhouse.”

She narrows her eyes at him, expecting him to crack a joke about her being old, but he just looks back at her awaiting a response. “Why?” She drags out the question, her movements stopping completely.

“Maybe ‘cause humans need sustenance to live? What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you want me to tag along on your bro date?”

“Don’t call it a bro date,” Luke cringes, “Just remembered you were working today and we were in the area, don’t know why you’re being weird about it.”

“You’re being weird. You guys never let me choose where we eat. Don’t you remember that time we grabbed dinner when you guys drove me home and Jack told me to stop being a pussy about my seafood allergy ‘cause he wanted sushi.”

“Don’t blame me for the crimes of my brother, Poppy, he was obviously joking.”

“I had to eat tofu, Luke, I don’t find that very funny.”

“Are you coming or not?”

“That depends, how do you have your steak?”

“Well done.”

“Oh! Then absolutely not.”

“Remind me never to try to be nice to you again.” He scowls as they make their way out of her office, and she locks up behind the two of them.

“Gladly, it’s creeping me out.” She grabs at his elbow before he can carry on, stopping him in the otherwise empty common area where she knows no one is around to listen in. “Is something going on, seriously?”

Luke rolls his eyes, but she knows him well enough that it’s only done in an attempt to avert from her gaze. 

Bingo. He’s hiding something.

“I just thought you might want some company.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets and twisting his lips to keep from saying much more.

“Why?”

If Poppy wanted to spend her life getting a straight answer out of people for a living, she’d have become an interrogator. What is it with these guys and their inability to answer a simple question?

“Jack said you left the party last night with Nico.”

Poppy’s eyebrows scrunch so close together that she can feel a deep crease form between them. What on earth does that have to do with asking her to dinner? Or being overly nice to her?

Unless-

“You’ve seen him?”

“This morning.”

“Oh.”

All of her efforts from throughout the day seem to have been for nothing - an immediate rush of insecurities flooding her mind.

Where did he see him? What did he say? Was he okay? Was Talia there?

She feels like she can gauge an answer from the way Luke looks. Sheepish, almost, like he doesn’t want to say something he knows will hurt her feelings.

She had to have been with him. He wouldn’t just show up to her office like this if it wasn’t something that would seriously hurt.

She wishes she wasn’t the kind of person who did this - who filled in the gaps of conversations and always came out with the worst possible outcomes - but she can’t help it. She’s been doing it all her life, and there’s rarely ever an instance where her instincts have led her astray.

She knows it’s some weird part of her mind protecting her, but she needs to do something here. Nia’s words from earlier ring like a warning. Don’t let what her brain thinks get in the way of what her heart knows.

Her heart knows Nico wanted her. Knows Nico liked her. Knows Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

She needs to figure things out for herself and stop running, stop letting her mind fill in the gaps of a situation it can’t even comprehend to begin with.

She reaches her arms around Luke’s shoulders, stretching up on her tip toes to pull him into a hug before rubbing her knuckles into his curls, affectionately.

Luke Hughes is sarcastic and silly, and he cares enough about her to not want her to be alone if she’s going through something.

“Thank you for the offer, Luke, but I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her stubborn lips. It takes over her face, eyes glinting fondly and cheeks warming. 

“Yeah, you can walk me to my car if you’re that worried about me though.” She loops her arm through his elbow as they make their way to the parking lot, and when they get there, he makes sure she’s in her car and has set off before him and Jack leave.

As if her day can’t get any worse, the elevator in her building is cordoned off with tape and a sign when she gets home, and she has never regretted moving up a floor as much as she does when she’s trudging up 6 flights of stairs.

She’s exhausted. Emotionally and physically, and she just wants to throw herself into bed and pretend the last 24 hours were a terrible dream.

Only, as she rounds the final corner to get to her door, any hopes of that go straight down the pan when her eyes land on Nico, standing in front of her door with his hands buried in his jacket pocket.

He looks tired too - hair messed where he’s no doubt been taking his cap on and off for however long he’s been stood here, running a hand through the tresses until they’re all askew. 

His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t even greet her with that pretty smile he usually gives her.

His lips do curve up a touch - limp and half-hearted, not even enough for a dimple to form - but it doesn’t provide the comfort she had thought it would.

She feels anxious. A culmination of the day’s emotions washing over in one go. Sad, regretful, nervous, disappointed - all things she shouldn’t be used to feeling when it comes to Nico, but are all too familiar when she takes the last few months into account.

“Hi.” She gives a weak smile of her own.

“Can we talk?”

She wishes he’d have just said hi, back. That might have relieved the tightness in her chest just a little.

Nothing good ever comes of can we talk?

He steps aside as she approaches, maintaining a safe distance as she opens the door and enters her apartment.

The Nico from yesterday might have brushed past her, the graze of an arm or a lingering hand, but this Nico doesn’t. He barely even meets her eye.

He closes the door behind himself, watching as she discards her bag and keys to the console table on the side, and while she’s turned away from him, she tries to let whatever emotions need to come out cross her features where he can’t see them.

She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.

If she doesn’t get her back up, doesn’t get agitated, she won’t scare him off.

“Are you okay?” She asks once she’s turned to face him, not liking how he stands unmoving by the door. He hasn’t made any effort to settle in - his jacket still on and his hands still hidden in the pockets.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

She realises now that she can get a good look at him that the expression he wears is one of shame. Guilt. Apprehension. She needs to be careful and toe the line before he gets consumed by it, she realises.

She steps toward him a little, and he doesn’t back up - not immediately, not obviously - but he hardly welcomes her approach, either.

She doesn’t like feeling this way when it comes to talking to him - feeling uneasy and unsure, but there’s a part of her that’s tired of having to prompt him for answers.

He had been the one to leave this morning. Why can’t he just come out and tell her why?

“I’m alright,” she shrugs, not wanting to scare him off with the truth. “Super tired, though, can we sit?”

She wonders if he thinks about the same things she does as they make their way to the couch. Wonders if he can feel the scratch of her nails on his torso, or the brush of her lips against his, as they sit in the spot where not even 24 hours ago, their bodies had been intertwined.

He doesn’t sit right beside her as he normally would, and she finds herself missing the way his thigh usually brushes against her own.

She doesn’t know where to start or what to ask, and so she basks in the silence for a little - finding comfort in the fact that, despite the mess they’re currently in, they aren’t quite at the end yet.

But a part of her feels it coming.

She’d known it this morning if she lets herself listen to the rational voice in her head. As soon as she’d heard him say her name, as soon as he’d left, a part of her knew that was it, and maybe if she’d let herself believe it at the time - hadn’t talked herself down and convinced herself she was being irrational - she could have protected herself from all the ways this is going to hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and when she looks up, he’s looking down where his large hands are now clasped together in his lap.

“For what?” She manages to choke out.

“Last night, I,” she digs her nails into the palms of her own hands to stop herself filling in the gaps as he figures out what he wants to say, but it’s no use.

He’s sorry for last night.

Last night, he made a mistake.

Last night, he was drunk, he was confused, he was just looking for something or someone to keep him occupied.

“I care about you so much, Poppy.”

That sentence shouldn’t be the one that fills her with dread, but it is.

“You’re my best friend, and I love you,” he does look up as he says this, eye meeting hers in an attempt to convey his honesty, but she sees more of the truth in his glassy gaze than she hears in his words. “This morning, I panicked, and I just needed some time to figure out what I want.”

No, no, no.

She’d rather he tell her what actually happened than do this. Than pretend he left because he doesn’t want her.

“I love you-,”

“You said that, already.” She can’t help the bite in her tone as she prepares herself for the hit. The I love you, but.

“You’re so important to me. Being your friend, it’s like it’s what keeps me sane lately.”

She chews at the inside of her cheek as she feels the tears start to well at her lash line.

“Poppy, I don’t want to mess up what we have,” he shakes his head as his gaze drops, dark eyes darting to focus anywhere but on her own, pleading and watery as she watches him slip away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t think this is hurting me?” She feels weak as her voice breaks, “You don’t think this is already messy?”

She reaches out to take his hands in hers, digging in to unclasp them, to try thread her fingers through, but he doesn’t make it easy.

“Nico, I love you, too, you know I do, we can figure it out, you don’t have to run away from me.”

It’s a desperate attempt and she knows it is, but she needs to know she tried. When she’s sobbing into her pillow and crying herself to sleep tonight, she needs to know she didn’t just let him go without a fight.

“I can’t give you what you want, I can’t be in a relationship, I’m no good at it.” 

Regardless of what she had told herself earlier, about taking what he says at face value, and trying not to fill in the gaps like she does so often with everyone else, she can’t help herself. When he says, I can’t be in a relationship, he means with her. He can’t be with Poppy. He would be no good with Poppy.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you-,”

“No, you said before that you’ve wanted this for as long as you’ve known me, you don’t just wake up and change your mind, not after-,” Poppy starts to feel panic building within her like a flipped over sand timer. Rising and rising until she starts to feel nauseous, getting harder with each second not to jump to conclusions. 

The voice inside her that tells her he got what he wanted and decided it wasn’t for him sounds caustic and bitter, and if she hadn’t wound herself up so much about this whole situation over the course of the day - the past week, even, or the months before - she might have been able to fight off the way it so easily convinces her.

“I have to put the team first, it doesn’t matter what I want, I have to focus on them, on hockey.”

She’s too caught up in her own emotions to notice how weak he sounds - glassy eyes unable to catch the glint in his. All she can hear, all she can see, is the minute hints of a cover-up - that she isn’t getting the whole story, that he’s lying to her, and that the excuse he’s giving is cowardly.

He still hasn’t mentioned the call, hasn’t mentioned Talia, hasn’t explained why he left her, why he didn’t say anything, why he didn’t come back.

“And you didn’t know that before?” She scoffs, pushing herself up off the couch and stepping away from him, “I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks as soon as they fall, but she can’t rid her skin of the feeling that they were there, her flesh damp and sore.

“I know we took things a little too far last night, but that doesn’t mean-,” She almost thinks he notices how bad that hurts her, referencing the night they shared as a mistake - an instance where they got carried away, and not where they followed through on years worth of built up tension and adoration for one another. She doesn’t even have to fill in the gaps, this time. Took things a little too far is clear enough. “We can still be friends. I want to be friends.”

“Friends?” Poppy jeers in disbelief, turning completely away from him now and missing the tears that drop from his own cheeks - missing the way his chest cracks and stretches open in a last ditch demonstration of his vulnerability, his desperation not to lose her completely. “You should go.”

“Poppy,”

“I can’t,” she tries so hard not to cry, knowing she won’t be able to stop, but the words come out in a choked sob, and her voice carries on in the whiney way she always hates. “You told me you wanted more, you said I was yours, and I’m supposed to just act like it never happened? Just accept you didn’t actually mean the things you said?”

“I meant them,” he says, defiantly, so sure of himself that it makes her head spin. “I wouldn’t-,”

“No, you didn’t. You’re a liar. You were either lying then, or you’re lying now. I don’t know which is worse. I can’t be your friend. I can’t pretend like you can that I don’t feel the way I feel.”

“Please, Mohn,” His fingertips just manage to reach out to land on her forearm before she shucks him off, wincing as if his touch has pained her.

“Don’t.” She takes an immediate step back, arms crossing over herself as a defence mechanism, body language screaming at him to go away, and she watches his pleading eyes drop to her arms just as she feels the cold of the metal there - so in tune with her every thought despite his denial of their true connection. Her arms move before her mind can make the decision, before it can remember what even sits on her skin, and her shaking fingers fumble to unclasp the jewellery adorned on her wrist. “You should take this back.”

Nico shakes his head, stepping back and away from the outstretched hand that holds her gemstone bracelet like it’s an actual danger to him. “No, that’s yours, Poppy.”

“I don’t want it.” She knows she’s the one that’s lying now. She wants the bracelet. She wants him. She doesn’t want him to leave. She wants to be his friend over being nothing. 

But she doesn’t want to hurt.

Looking at him hurts.

Remembering last night, remembering their kiss, the things he has said, the things he has done, it all hurts, and she can’t keep hold of a constant reminder of the pain, can’t wear it on her person at all hours of the day just to know deep down that the man who gave it to her will never want her the same way.

“I want you to leave.”

“Please,” he begs again, head tilting as devastation floods his features, brows pushing together, tears welling at the corners of his eyes, “We need to talk about this-,”

“No, you were right, we went too far, it was a mistake.” Her voice breaks as she says things she knows she doesn’t mean, but he’s already put it out there, so she doesn’t see the harm in echoing his own opinions. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

She can’t look at him anymore, and so she drops her gaze to his hands, stepping and reaching forward and forcing him to take the bracelet from her before she rounds the couch and heads to the door.

If he isn’t going to give her the whole truth, she isn’t going to entertain part of the story, and she needs him gone so she can give in to the way her body wants to fold in on itself.

It takes him a minute to gather himself, but she refuses to look his way, waiting by the open door to her apartment and staring at the floor in front of her until his shoes appear.

“I do love you, Poppy. I’m leaving because I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have, and I’ll give you space if that’s what you need, but I’ll be here when you want to talk about this. I mean it when I say I can’t lose you.”

 She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything.

There’s a stabbing pain that’s building and building in the centre of her chest, and she doesn’t even think she can breathe in his presence.

He clasps a hand around her upper arm, and leans into her, his lips pressing a firm kiss into the crown of her head, and he lingers there for a moment before he retreats. 

She manages to push the door closed behind him, the click of the lock louder than ever, and waits a good few minutes in silence before her body is wracked with a silent sob.

The one time she had tried to be brave and fight her own intuition, and this is where it gets her.

So much for Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw)

[x--sinner--x]

thinking about

being friendly to the “nice guy” until i finally let you convince me to let you take me out on a date. You keep buying me more and more drinks until I don’t realize just how drunk I am.

I try going home, but you insist on making sure I “get home safe”…. and then you continue into my house once we get there. You kiss me and grope me, telling me I asked you to do it and not asked so surprised. Being as drunk as I am, I believe your gaslighting and let you lead me to the bedroom. My only condition? You wear a condom. I’m not on birth control. I repeat this, asking if you have enough as we undress and you assure me you do. I believe you and lay back, letting you fuck me like you wanted.

Only to be surprised when my next period is late 🫣

🐝

Hell fucking yeah!!! This is so hot 🥵🥵🥵

Also I definitely am the "nice guy" with "nefarious intentions" because where is the fun when you know I'm a troublesome person better to be avoided.

It's better when you let your guard down and think I'm just a harmless and pretty sweet guy overall that you thought "Why not? Let's give him a chance" in your mind.

I have been watching you from afar holding back my feelings towards you. I wanted to tell you how I feel, but always hesitated. That's why I hatched this plan - well not exactly a plan and kinda winged it to be honest - i was around you all the time, helping you and your family out, being there at your beck and call, being your comfort pillow - and I had been the perfect gentleman until one day during a conversation i blurted out how I wanted to take you out on a date, and I was shocked when you agreed.

I wasn't thinking about anything even when I kept buying you drinks and you didn't stop me. I didn't know your alcohol tolerance and I was impressed at how well you can handle your liquor. But eventually you reached your limit, and that's when it hit me. This was my chance. I can finally have you to myself.

I had to take you home because you trusted me but in your drunk state you actually started to flirt with me - telling me to kiss you but you weren't consciously saying that. So when I kissed you, you look confused as if something bad happened.

Slowly and patiently I led you into your bedroom after making sure I have you exactly where I wanted to, and then you laid out the condition on me to wear a condom. I was surprised that it came out of your mouth considering how drunk you were, but I had other plans. Well yes I always carried condoms, but I'm a shy guy with no use of condoms. Well the condoms aren't mine either. Just sourced (I mean stole it) it from a playboy friend of mine. I assure you that I have enough and I heard you say you are on birth control and that triggered something in me.

Not only do I get to have sex with you, but I can breed you too? That was a very huge opportunity to pass up so I did. I used one of the condoms to insert my cock inside your pussy, it was tight and I had to use a lot of lube and a bit of foreplay to get my cock in. It felt so good but I know it can feel even better without the condom. The plastic texture was really taking me out of the rawness of your pussy.

So I did what I had to do. I came so hard inside the condom, several times due to how tight your pussy was and I made sure you were passed out by the time I was done with you. I pulled my cock out, slowly and carefully removed the condom, spread your pussy and slid my cum down your hole and made sure it went inside your pussy. If it leaked out, I would just use my fingers to push it back in.

To get the final nail in the coffin, I pushed my cock in raw inside your hole and that's when the euphoria struck me. My cock's foreskin combined with the tightness and warmth of your pussy was so intense I came one more time just from all the friction and lube I used. And I vanished from your room, leaving you passed out with cum dripping down your thighs.

This is proof that nice guys do indeed finish last. But better than never right?

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA Insert

Chapter: 14

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

Disclaimer: B/n = birth name

…

I once again repeated the question I've asked Five three times already. “What did you do?” But again, it was to no avail.

“Your questions will be answered in time Number Zero, but for now pick up the pace!” Said the woman with an unusual, cheery voice. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to piss me off by calling me that, but I had a feeling she was. I stopped thinking for a second and took a look at her. Her attitude was very snarky, and she was strangely dressed, but who am I to judge?

With her platinum, gray hair and posh walk, I knew she had to be the leader of whatever hellish organization Five deserted.

Which led me to think of more questions. Where are we? Why am I here? What happened to the others? Did these people cause the end of time? And then the one question still left on my mind, who is the girl I said would end the world..?

As I thought about it, the woman started talking to Five, and I walked behind them like some servant. We were walking fast and away from the place where I first landed on the grass. Going towards a large gray block building with a plethora of people walking in and out open. They held briefcases and chatted like this was a normal occurrence.

They were all dressed in a similar fashion in old outfits you used to see in magazines from a different decade. It was obvious to me now that we were in the past. And as people passed us, they greeted her with a sense of priority. They called her The Handler, the name so unimportant that I’d forgotten Five told me earlier.

“I must admit Number Five, in all the time I’ve been here I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” The Handler’s praise was off-putting to me, and I could tell it was off-putting to him as well. “Hazel and Cha-Cha, for example, are talented, certainly, but.. they can’t see the big picture. Your spunk, your enterprising spirit, well, remind me a great deal of myself, if I may be so vainglorious.” She wrapped her black coat-covered arm around his shoulder as she spoke almost like a mother but creepy.

This was all getting very tiresome. I had half the mind to say “You guys know I’m here, right?” And I guess I ended up saying that because she turned to me. As well as Five who had a blank expression on his face.

“And you, my dear, I believe you are the key!”

My confusion could be felt around the area. “The key to what.”

“With your unique skill set the two of you could be, how do I say this? Unstoppable.” She finished with a whisper. My head started to spin at her words as I opened my mouth to protest her words, sadly no one responded.

I started to feel a sort of hatred towards five. He drags me through yet another thing just because I survived the apocalypse and gives me no explanation. Why can’t anything ever be simple? Why can’t we ever just communicate?

As we entered the building, the layout made my nerves skyrocket. It was very claustrophobic. There was a spiral staircase, where workers upon workers would travel up and down. And there I was out of place when Five seemed to just fit right in.

“You know if things work out for you here you could potentially make a fine successor, Five.” Still, there was no mention of me. The Handler shed her silk coat to reveal a sleek black gown with several different red designs. A perfect gown for an unhinged woman.

The people around us stared at me and whispered good things from what I heard, but it was a scary thought to be the center of attention. Even though the actual people's attention I wanted were too focused on each other.

“I’d like to discuss the logistics of my family's safety at your earliest convenience. as well as this body replacement.” Five said in an almost robotic tone.

She laughed. “Such chutzpah! It’s refreshing I’ll admit. Slow down five. all in good time.” The Handler continued speaking when we reached the top of the staircase. “Now that you two have agreed to work with us. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

I stopped. I froze. Whatever I did. They seemed to notice that I ceased moving. The last thing she said didn’t make any sense to me. “Stop it, just stop this. Look, I didn't agree to do anything. I don’t know why I'm here. I can't get a straight answer. I rejected your company once so why do you think you can just have me now?” I raised my voice, which caused workers to stop and stare.

All The Handler did was smile, she did not react to what I had to say. She looked at a worker nearby, and he left and reappeared with some woman. She was tall, and her hair was kept old-fashioned in an updo. She carried a book in her arms. “Dot.”

“Yes?” Dot spoke with a sweet tone.

“Would you please show Number Five where his new headquarters is?”

“Of course!” She ushered for Five to follow her but before he left he gave me one last glance, I couldn’t even look at his eyes though. Once he left I thought for sure I was dead. I offended her and this is the end unless I fight my way out of this.

The handler looked at me, almost like she was sizing me up. “Walk with me,” she said softly. The anger I expected was nowhere on her face. She looked almost happy, something that felt out of place in a building like this.

..

We walked in silence for a bit as she led me down the hall. “What is your goal in life, Number Zero?”

“Y/n, my name is Y/n.”

“I’m sorry. What is your goal in life, Y/n?”

My mind went back to the conversation I had with Vanya, about feeling stuck. I have nothing to say to her because I don’t have a goal in life. I spend every day trying to just get past it so I can see the next morning. Except for when I hang out with Klaus and now when I’m running around trying to help solve the apocalypse.

I say nothing back.

"That's all right dear that’s why we’re here.” She shoots a caring look at my sad face.

But then I go from pitying myself to remembering I’m basically being held captive. I need to remind myself that I need to get out of here. “What do you guys want from me?” I said, plainly.

The Handler looks a little bit annoyed before answering. “We want you to reach your full potential.”

I scoff. “And what is that?”

We stop at a door. “Before I answer, would it be easier to talk sitting down? Let’s go into my office.” I only nod at her. Whatever gets me more answers I guess. As soon as I entered the room, I was filled with an immediate sense of dread. The room itself was fine, almost every wall was covered in bookshelves, it almost made me forget that this was an office and not a library.

Her desk was large, as large as her personality. It was neat, yet unorganized with a bunch of things on it. She quickly sat down in her spinny chair as I looked around the room.

“You’re a fan of books, right? You could read anything you want in here.”

I turn my head towards her. “I never told you that.” I snap.

But she ignores me. “I have all the greats, dating back from Shakespearean times, I’m a bit of a collector as you could see.” She giggles.

I once again had to refocus myself as I sat down in the chair directly in front of her.

“Right to the point I see, well I’ll try to be quick. We have other tasks to do together.” She grabs the glass of water on her desk and takes a big gulp before getting started.

“The truth is Number Zero, we’ve been watching you even before the apocalypse date. The Umbrella Academy itself is a bit of a local celebrity to us. But you in particular could make this place so much better.. We need people like you, not only for your powers of regeneration but your mindset. Back when you were a child, you used to be a killing machine. I mean nothing Sir Reginald made you do would phase you!” My face dropped as she went on.

“As you can tell, I run a tight operation here and just between you and me some of these people are emotional, but if we had more soldiers like you.. well, let’s just say there wouldn’t be any desertion.”

“So what do you say? Come work for us? Of course, you get all the benefits. Health care, not that you need it. Housing, meals every day, hell, I’ll even throw in a new job title. How would you like to be the head of the department?” She was practically buzzing with excitement that I would say yes to this horrible agreement.

As I listened to her words I started picking my skin on my fingers, and it started to be very hard to breathe. She wants me to do the thing I ran away from? No. I can’t go back.

“Y/n?” She calls out.

My lungs felt on fire.

“Y/n? Darling”

My head was spinning.

“Speak to me.”

My eyes were darting around the room.

“We can do this together.”

My ears are ringing.

I think I was having a panic attack.

I was so sick and tired of the false comfort I was getting. I was tired of five. I was tired of thinking of Ben. I was tired of thinking of the apocalypse. So many things were circling my mind, so many people needed me to help them

I needed to look out for Klaus. I needed to look out for Diego. Where is my comfort? Who is looking out for me? I can’t be on my own. At first, I thought that person was Ben but then I lost him too. I need someone. And then I thought it was with him. I needed someone to fall back on but now he’s gone. And it was all my fault.

I opened my mouth, but only shrieks and whispers came out. The handler looked dazed, almost thrilled that I was freaking out.

“No..“ I whispered.

She raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“You can’t put me back there. I can’t do this again.” My throat let out an awful voice crack. “I’m not a soldier, I’m a person. I will never be a soldier not again doesn’t matter if it’s for you or if it’s for the greater good, I was already lied to about that once. My answer is no.” I glared at her.

I whispered, “And if you don’t get me home. I will stop every organ in your body from working, don't test me. I’ve done it before.”

She smirked. “Trust me, I know you have. That's why I know you won’t do it to me. No. I remind you too much of your mother, the woman who gave you away. That’s why you were staring at me so hard and also my pretty dress, just like hers. Lovely isn’t it?”

“That's not true!” I yelled.

“I know everything about you, B/n. That’s the name, isn't it? The one your mother gave you? You were such a cute kid.”

B/n? Who's that?

There's no way I'd forget my own name.

“No matter how much you try to trick me I won’t do it.” I cried out.

She slammed her hands on her desk, while never breaking her smile.“I don’t need to trick you. This is what you want. You want purpose, after you left Reginald there was no one to tell you what to do, that was until you found your boyfriend and after he left, sorry! Let’s not lie, we both know he didn’t leave.”

“You know, you and Five just have to be related, you're the same person. You two both need purpose and I can give it to you here!”

The happy woman had disappeared. Now I am seeing her true nature; she's conniving she only wants power. She wants my power.

“Excuse me, I am a fan of the dramatics. I don’t know why we're even doing this. You have to do this.

My stare falters. “What?”

“In order for some sort of sanctuary from the apocalypse, which we both know will never work. Five promised the both of you two to work here, to save your glorious family.”

“Fuck you! That’s not true.” I stand up from my chair.

“Go ask him yourself. I'm not holding you hostage in this room. Or better yet check my body, if I'm lying my heartbeat should falter or something like that?” She sips more water.

I try my best to find a lie in her senses, but she’s telling the truth. “You're right.” I gasp.

She grins. “Honestly that is just astounding. Your powers are amazing. This is exactly why we need you!” She claps her hands.

I don’t feel the same sentiment. My brother, adopted or not, is going to force me to work here away from my home, away from my semblance of reality for an apocalypse we probably can’t beat for the apocalypse, where I am the only one destined to live by myself forever away from my world. Why am I always destined to hurt?

“All right, enough of that, come now we need to get your uniform. I hope you’re okay with a suit after all that’s what everyone wears. And oh! I can get your first assignment. This is going to be wonderful. I see a future for us, together.” The Handler gushes

She stands up and walks to the door. “Are you coming? Number Zero.”

This will never be over. I don’t know why I followed her. My body moved on its own following its commands, like it always has.

She led me to the suit department of the commission, where a man and his late fifties worked. He looked at me with some bit of sorrow, but I just looked at the floor as the handler told him my measurements. Which she knew, I’m guessing from watching me.

..

She then pushed me into the bathroom and told me to get changed. I slowly put on the uniform, shedding myself off my normal clothes the last bit that made me, me. I walked out of the bathroom like a zombie.

“If it’s perfectly my, you're quite beautiful in a suit. One last thing, though I’m sorry your hair is amazing, but is sadly against the code. If you’re working, your hair needs to be up in a ponytail. Once you do that you’ll be done.”

She waits for me and expects me to do it myself, but I stare at my reflection in the mirror just like I have so many times before. “I can’t.”

“Oh! That’s my fault. I almost forgot.”

She grabs a brush from her dress pocket and does my hair for me. When she’s done she looks at her work. I look like I’m back in the Academy because it's the same way Gracie used to do my hair. This sick fuck probably memorized it.

I try to bite back my sobs, The Handler’s pale hand, holds onto the side of my face.

“Perfect.”

...

Taglist:

@aloflapse

@isomehowexist

@elenalovestoread

@miscrying

@gabriella-aesthetic

@dakotapaigelove

@solarbeanz

@theoriginalone1111

@water-hemlock18

@tialovesyoutoo

@bunnychano3o

@rockyeatrock

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I were to report my ex friend's antisemitism to their university?

So I 20nb have been friends with most my current friend group since we were 11. Two years ago I stopped being friends with a guy in my friend group due to toxic behavior on his part (not antisemitic yet, just giving background info) He would constantly say things like "don't make fun of neurodivergent people's special interests and hyperfixations as they can't help it" and then would go and make fun of my special interests (note: said ex friend has ADHD). Over our friendship he had a lot of double standards like that and one day I had enough. The first time I brought it up he dismissed it as someone else in the friend group did the behaviors I'm accusing him of. I kinda dropped it as I didn't want to deal with that level of denial and thought that if I waited a few days he would have had some time to reflect. So I brought it up again and he continued to blame it being one of our other friends doing it and that I was simply "misremembering". I gave specific examples and rough time frames yet he continued to deny it. All I wanted was a simple "I'm sorry and I will work on that" yet he refused to do that. So I ended our friendship.

Since then we have been on rocky terms. We are still in the same friend group since the issue was between me and him, I didn't want to involve my friends and make people pick sides. He was moving away soon at the time of the end of our friendship so it wasn't like I was going to see him when the friend group all hung our together.

Since we are still in the same friend group, he is in the discord server our friend group has which is just like a massive group chat with things categorized into topics.

Recently there is the current conflict going on in Israel and Palenstine. I am Jewish and vented to the vent section of that discord server about how I have seen people I know irl post online antisemitic things. I am very much against Israels actions and made sure to include that in my vent so no one coukd twist my words. I didn't initially say exactly what I was seeing as I was still processing the fact that I was going to have to cut some people off.

He then replied to my vent saying that he has never seen anything antisemitic online and that if he has, he has seen Jewish people saying that it isnt. I replied that his reply to my vent was weird and that i was talking about people saying that all jews should die. I felt hurt as yet again he was being hypocritical towards me as he has said before that you should say that (what he said) when people complain about seeing hateful things towards a group (eg racism, homophobia, etc).

He then responded that I was only calling him antisemitic because he was arab. The thing is, I never called him antisemitic and I myself am also arab. (Yes I know, most people have never met an arab jew but we do exist).

I pointed out that I never called him antisemitic and I am also arab which he seems to have forgotten. I said that his response was still weird considering what he has said in the past about people who say what he said. I then invited him to dm me privately to discuss things further if he wants to as it's not fair to do this in front of all of our friends.

He did not respond and ended up blocking me on discord.

This irked me quite a bit but in the end I decided that him blocking me was for the better if he stands by his original response. I was talking to my partner about it who is not Jewish and he said that my ex friend's response was definitely weird and the fact that he was so quick to defend himself about being called an antisemite without even being called it was indicative that he probably is. I decided to look at my ex friends tumblr to see if there was anything to suggest that and there was. I saw a few posts which he has recently reblogged which used anti Semitic dog whistles like the echo, example: (((insert text you which doesnt say jew but you are implying jewish people are))).

I was quite appalled to see that and am debating if I should send it to his university. The university he attends has spoken out about antisemitism before and has kicked out people in the past for using racist dog whistles due to a potential danger to POC students so it is likely that he would get kicked out for using antisemitic dog whistles.

In my mind, he fucked around and therefore should find out aka face natural consequences for his actions.

WIBTA if I contacted his University about his antisemitism?

What are these acronyms?

[sky-the-trans-guy00]

Her PR Guy -Ch.1

hey everyone! I started this fic a really long time ago, and decided to re-write it for a different player! Let me know if you have any requests and/or feedback :)

Feel free to use this idea for a fic if you're interested; I have no problem with re-using ideas.

Disclaimer

I wrote this story with a trans male insert because I, myself, am a trans dude, and there hasn’t been a whole lot of content in this fandom for trans men.

Backstory

Y/N worked for an NWSL team post-grad, as a social media assistant and decided to hop across the pond to work for Arsenal WFC,  after being offered a job as their primary content creator and media person.

Y/N’s POV

I met Alessia while working in Arsenal’s Public Relations Department. I had just moved on from an entry-level position at Bay FC with little to no idea what type of world I was stepping into. Armed with a passion for sports and storytelling, my job was to run the social media accounts, and help craft stories that captivated fans and media members alike. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that my story would be worth telling someday, too.

It was my first media day working for Arsenal, and I was totally freaking out. I mean, this was my dream, one that I had fought tooth and nail for. I had never dared to imagine this possibility, but here I was, and I felt woefully unprepared.

Get it together (Y/N)! We worked so hard to get here, and we got this. The board believes in us, and so do I!! You wanted so badly to have a fresh start, and here it is.

I went over to the players and introduced myself, "Hey everyone, my name's (Y/N), my pronouns are he/him, and I'm your new PR guy." A lot of the players seemed stunned, probably because I'm a guy working for an WSL team, so I decided to clear some things up. “I’m also a proud trans man who knows that the future is female, especially in sports. I’ll be mainly working with the photographers and videographers to get content for our socials, but I’m here if you need anything.”

Alessia’s POV

After Y/N walked away I was still captivated.

“He’s a cute one,” said Leah.

“Definitely,” I replied emphatically.

“He could be just what the doctor ordered, with your recent breakup and everything,” added Lotte

“He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure,” Alessia responded while looking at you as you walked away from the team, ”Let’s just hope he isn’t too full of himself….”

Y/N’s POV

It’s been over a month since I introduced myself to the players, and I can’t get Alessia Russo out of my head. She’s been flirting with me since we met, but I can barely function in her presence, not to mention I literally work for the team. Before I can get too in my head about it, I get a call from my buddy Alex.

“Hey (Y/N/N)! How’s the new job going?”

“It’s going well,” I replied, “I think I have a crush on one of the players though…”

“I fail to see the problem bro,” said Alex.

“You are a hot eligible bachelor, and any girl would be lucky to have you. You even told me that two of the players are together, so workplace dating is obviously not a problem.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to deal with another Karen incident!” I exclaimed.

Karen was a close friend of mine in college who really fucked me over. I managed her campaign for Student Body President, and when she found out I had a crush on her she flipped out and cut me off, only after she won the election. She ignored me for weeks following her win, and when we finally spoke about what had happened, she told me she thought it was best that we ‘keep it professional.’ To add insult to injury, all of our mutual friends decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I tried to take the high road and didn’t tell anyone my side of things until it was too late and they had already taken her side.

“How long are you going to let Karen control your life? You can’t keep giving other people your power, bro.”

I knew that he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the past.

“Yeah, but this girl is so out of my league it’s unbelievable. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure she has a girlfriend!”

“You sure about that Y/N?”

“Not entirely, but why would she date a loser like me when she has her pick of almost every queer athlete?”

Much to my chagrin, I was not athletic by any means, which was definitely an insecurity of mine. Deep down, I still felt like the sad, closeted, insecure kid with no friends from Middle and High School, despite all of my work in therapy.

“You may not be athletic, but you’re super kind and loyal as fuck. Trust me when I say that what you think you may lack in physical appearance pales in comparison to the type of person you are. You’re full of green flags— except for your inability to take a good selfie, which most people who know you happen to find endearing. Face it Y/N, the only thing that’s standing in your way is you. You control your own destiny, and you my friend are a catch; remember that.” Said Alex

“Thanks for hyping me up, my guy. I’m definitely going to talk to my therapist about this.” I said.

“As you should, Y/N! I’m here for you if you need anything, and I’m only one call away. You got this homie.”

I ended the call and reflected upon Alex’s advice.

Everything you want is in reach and ripe for the taking, you got this Y/N, I thought to myself.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Helion is a hugger. Fight me. ❤️

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet.

Word Count: 2432 (Hey I figured out Word counts!)

Ch 1

Ch 7 >> Ch 9

Chapter 8:

Tarquin had written back informing us that he has decided to send aid and supplies to help rebuild the western most village. Tamlin traveled out there to meet them this morning right after breakfast. Lucien and I stayed at the manor to discuss the upcoming trip to Day.

“Have you ever met Helion?” I asked Lucien as I entered his office, curiosity getting the best of me. I knew Baron was volatile at his best and wasn't sure if he knew of the rumors or not. I sat a warm cup of tea in front of him at his desk, before taking my seat in one of the ornate chairs in front of him.

“Nope, but I am not unaware of the rumors.” Lucien admitted, ignoring the tea entirely. He was reading over the plans I had drafted to rebuild the eastern village.

“Would you be interested in joining me? Just to see him, face to face,” I was treading carefully. I couldn’t read Lucien's mood. He put down the papers and sat back in his chair, finally looking at me.

“I have spent my life feeling like a bastard, watching Baron's cruelty towards my mother. He was cruel to my brother's but it always seemed like I got the worst of it. I could never do anything right, even as a child. The thought of having a different father entirely is a scary one. What if he doesn't see it and doesn't want anything to do with me?” He said coldly.

“Oh, but what if he does?” I offered him a soft, hopeful smile. Lucien's eyes lit up for just a second.

“I have never allowed myself to even dream of what a father's love might look like. I wouldn't know what to do with it. I am just the 7th son of Autumn.”

“But heir to Day,” I sang. “You glow when you're upset. And if the rumors are true, that Helion and your mother are mates, that would explain why you were able to hold on so long, long enough for Thorin to revive you. Children born of mates will always be inherently stronger and more powerful.”

“It's hard to hold on to that hope. It would be nice, but like most things in my life, it just paves the way for more disappointment and heartbreak. I do appreciate, however, that you are the first person to have ever discussed it with me directly.” Lucien’s demeanor softened slightly.

“Sometimes, just talking about things that weigh heavily on you can help ease the burden.” I replied. “With Tamlin busy in the western village, I know he would appreciate that I didn't travel alone. And who better to ask than the male he trusts the most?”

Lucien smiled, “well, how can I say no to such a flattering request.”

I returned the smile, “thank you.”

“And since you brought it up, who was the.. guy.. that revived me? Thorin? What is the story with him?” Lucien prodded. “He looked a lot like Tamlin.”

I giggled. “He is a friend I made shortly after arriving in Azeroth. He showed me the laws of the lands and introduced me to their way of life. He is what they call a Night elf, and a druid. We had an… arrangement.” I answered with a cheeky grin. “We kept the communication open, he knew about Tamlin and that my ultimate goal was to return home. I still love him, he is a good friend and he's always treated me with respect and I, him. Love doesn’t always have to last forever for it to mean something. ”

“Now that I know of Elain, I don't know if I could ever sleep with someone else.”

“And that is a fair decision, one made with respect to your own feelings. For me, sex can be as meaningless or as meaningful as you make it. I can sleep with someone just for fun, and as long as all parties consent and are on the same page, there isn't generally a problem.”

“How does Tamlin feel about this?”

“We haven't discussed it in depth yet, but he knows I have had other lovers just like he has. He can't be too mad at me considering my last lover saved your life and his last lover ended in the destruction of our court. Communication, even, no, especially the hard stuff, is important to maintaining friendships and avoiding enemies.”

“So, if I am attracted to someone else, even considering Elain exists, I'm not a bad person as long as I communicate?”

“And set agreed upon boundaries, yes.” I assured him. “But the situation with the sisters does confuse me. Mating bonds are rare, Tamlin and I had known eachother since childhood and I was still 50 years of age before it snapped into place. They are all in their 20s. I know humans mature at a faster rate than us, and they were considered to be of age by human standards before being ‘turned fae’ but that doesn't change the fact that they have only been alive for 20 ish years. And all of them have a mate? If I were to give you any advice, let Elain live. Let her know you will come if she needs you, remain close and protect her, but she is going to make stupid and selfish decisions, we all have, allow her that. Allow her to grow up and don't take anything she does personally. She is incredibly young.”

“That makes a lot of sense, and is comforting in a way.” Lucien thought aloud. “I do sometimes feel…” he shook his head, “She doesn’t want me,” softly whispered under his breath.

“Tamlin shared his memories of that day with me. What she went through was horrendously tragic. Is it possible she is just mourning the life she lost? Give her the benefit of the doubt. Do things that make you happy in the meantime. Heal and become the best version of yourself so that if, and when, she comes to you, she gets the best version of you.” I said it as a matter of fact. “Can I ask you something weird?” I could tell he was getting uncomfortable with the turn this conversation took, so I decided to change the subject.

“Sure, go for it”

“You were in that room with me, my brother and Tamlin, am I misinterpreting the amount of.. tension.. there was? If you know what I mean.”

Lucien blushed, hard, and looked away, a growing smile on his face. “Yes,” he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity, “almost a century ago, they thought they were subtle, but most of us knew.”

I laughed loudly, “he fucked my brother.” I couldn't contain it anymore.

“Please don't tell him I told you,” Lucien scolded lightly, holding back laughter himself, “And don't hold it against him.”

“I won't,” I said through laughs, “it's kind of flattering in a weird way.”

We finished our tea and prepped the last items we would need. I made sure to have the parchment with the spell in my pocket. “Are you ready? I don't want to be late.” Lucien sounded like he was giving me an order. I was slightly shocked but chalked it up to nerves. It seems I had said exactly what he needed to hear.

“Yes, I just have to do one thing real quick.” I opened a portal to the western village. I wanted to give Tamlin a kiss goodbye and let him know we were leaving.

Tamlin was carrying a stack of lumber over his shoulder, face flushed and chest glistening with sweat. I admired, even as a High Lord, how he was willing to get his hands dirty to help his people. “If you could do this, why did I spend all morning traveling here?” Tamlin asked, breaking the kiss.

I giggled. “You didn't ask me to, I figured you would enjoy the run.” I smiled innocently and gave him one last kiss before portaling back to Lucien.

♡♡♡♡♡

“Okay, ready now.” I grabbed Lucien's hand and portaled us to right outside the Day court castle. “Nervous?”

“Absolutely.”

“I'll be right here.” I whispered to Lucien then addressed the guards, “I have a meeting with the High Lord Helion.”

♡♡♡♡

“There she is, the beautiful Lady of Sp—” Helion's thunderous voice rang out before he caught sight of the male at my side. I've heard it is difficult to render the High Lord of Day speechless. They just stared at each other for a minute, before Helion spoke again, much softer this time. “You look so much like your mother..”

Lucien was frozen, I squeezed his hand in silent encouragement. “This is Lucien, my escort for today.” Neither of them heard me.

“I had heard the rumors, I could never find a way to reach you, or your mother, without putting her in harm's way.” Helion whispered, staring intensely at his son's face, then proceeded to pull Lucien in for a tight embrace. It took a few seconds but Lucien dropped my hand and held him back. “My son.”

I had no idea what to do with myself, I felt a tear escape, but I did not want to draw attention by attempting to leave. I could not ruin this moment for them. They both had dreamed and feared this day for nearly 300 years.

A few moments later Helion broke the hug, keeping one hand on Lucien's shoulder, “Look at you, a perfect blend of your mother and I.” He then turned to me, “you have brought me my son, this is the greatest kindness anyone has ever shown me, whatever you want, it's yours.”

“But I had a whole speech prepared.”

As the males took their seats in the meeting room, I just stared at my worst enemy. A throne. No, not a real throne, it's just what I just call the kind of seats with a high back and arm rests. In Tarquins meeting room I could just turn the chair sideways, but I can't in this case. “Do you happen to have a seat available that possibly doesn't have a back?” I asked, twitching my wing.

Helion let out a boisterous laugh, “of course, Lady, I hadn't considered that. The other illyrians I've met don't seem to have a problem with them.” He sent one of his men to fetch me a soft plush ottoman.

“Perfect, thank you.”

“So you wanted to discuss aid to rebuild Spring, is that correct?”

“Yes, but also, since my letter I must inform you that the Night court has committed an act of war. My brother attempted to assassinate the Emmasary of Spring, a son of Autumn and… the Heir to Day. Had I not stepped in your son would've been dead by Rhysands hand. Given they border you to the North, I figured it was pertinent information.”

“Spring has saved my life on multiple occasions” Lucien finally spoke.

“Well, it seems I am indebted to you then.” Helion looked at me.

“She doesn't like to hear that.” Lucien interjected. I just smiled and cocked my head as if to say ‘Lucien is right.’

We talked for a while, I gave Helion the same spell I gave Tarquin and he seemed shocked.

“Where did you find this? This is mighty impressive.” Helion proclaimed looking over the document. He looked to truly understand the weight this spell would have on the future of Prythia as a whole.

“I studied at the libraries of Aretuza for many years while in exile. I hear your libraries are also great. Once we get a handle on the Night court, I would love to spend some time here, if that is okay with you.”

“Sky, you are always welcome.” Helion gushed, looking up to me, then shifting his eyes to Lucien, and back to the parchment.

We spent the rest of the afternoon into the evening being shown the stunning architecture and cities of the Day court. I tried multiple times to take my leave and let Lucien and Helion catch up, but Helion kept pulling me back in. We sampled the sweet wines and toured a few of the libraries in the castle. Helion asked Lucien no less than a thousand questions about his interests, upbringing, skill set, and tastes. Lucien confided in Helion regarding his feelings about Elain, and shared stories of his travels. Typical father and son bonding that they both have missed sorely. I tried not to eavesdrop, and wasn't entirely sure where I fit in, but Helion was great at drawing me back into the conversation with a “Sky, what do you think about this?” Thinking of it after the fact, the playful banter we all three had going on could’ve been them flirting with me. Eh, it went over my head at the time.

As the sun began to set over the horizon, it was most definitely time to head on home. While Helion left the room to, most likely, fetch us another bottle of wine, I pulled Lucien aside, “I need to be leaving soon, if he offers, would you like to stay here for a while, or come back with me?”

“I would like to return with you, thank you for asking,” Lucien responded sincerely, “I need some time to think, all of this is getting a little overwhelming. In a good way, if that makes sense. I just feel I need some time to breathe and process everything.”

“I completely understand.” I reassured him.

When Helion returned we thanked him for his kindness and bid our farewells. He advised that he would send aid and craftsmen to assist in rebuilding the eastern villages. I made something up about Lucien being needed at the Spring court and he pulled his son in for another hug. “Come back soon, please.” Helion said as he broke the hug, holding eye contact. Lucien just nodded and smiled. I portaled us back to the foyer of the manor.

Just as soon as I stepped foot onto the tile floor, I was hoisted up and thrown over a broad shoulder. I screamed, playfully.

“Lucien, welcome back. I would love to hear all about how it went… tomorrow,” Tamlin wrapped his free arm around Lucien's shoulders briefly, “Sweet dreams, but I am stealing this one back now.” And he began carrying me up the stairs to our bedroom.

“Put me down!!” I played along, softly punching my fists against his back.

“Nope, I've missed you. It's my turn for your attention.” he teased.

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover @julesvanslutta

[an-au-blog]

I love zosan and think the art made me love it even more, but if I'm being honest with myself and how I feel about the canon, I'd say there should be zolu and sanuso before zosan. Let me explain:

The only logical explanation for Zoro - a pirate hunter, who had killed pirates for very petty reasons... to join a random guy with no crew, no boat and a pipedream, is that he saw something in him. The sheer amount of loyalty this man holds for his captain is more than akin to blind devotion than anything. And the trust Luffy holds in his first mate is absolutely astounding.

Outside of the ladies, Sanji only ever defends/vouches for Usopp. Even though Usopp is a man, Sanji doesn't treat him with the annoyance he sometimes has for Luffy and Zoro. During the water 7 arc, he keeps defending Usopp even though the Mary fiascos. He's super protective towards him.

In conclusion, here's how I think it'd go:

Sanji had been unintentionally courting Usopp and only realized it when water 7 happened. At some point while they're still in recovery or maybe while they were still traveling to enmys lobby, he tries to tell him what he's realized. Because if he really leaves the crew, this would be his only chance and he needed to live without regrets, as there was no guarantee what could happen.

Sanji: Usopp, I know it's not the time or place, but-

Usopp: Haha, this isn't Usopp, I'm Sniper King, remember?!

Sanji (defeated, knowing nothing will come of this): Yeah, well, when you see Usopp, can you tell him that I'm sorry I couldn't tell him on time, but I love him and I regret only realizing it now...

Usopp: ...

Usopp: Oh... well... I'll be sure to tell him.

Sanji might have taken that as a nice way to reject him, so he decided to take it with dignity and leave but was stopped when he heard

Usopp: And thank you... I mean, he'd probably thank you. For telling him.

Would it be too pathetic of Sanji to hold onto hope?

After everything was said and done, Usopp joined again. Sanji had forgotten, with all the things that happened, about his confession. So he was a bit surprised when he approached him about it.

S: Soooo... Sniper King told me what you wanted to tell me...

U, sweating bullets: Whaaat? I didn't mean- I mean I never told him to tell you anything, idk what you're talking about. That sniper king guy probably lied!

S: I don't think he's the type to lie. He's a man of honor, you know.

U, not believe that he's getting jealous of himself: you're so easy to defend him, you like him or something?

S, with embarrassment but loving adoration: Yeah.

U, heart broken: Oh. Well, I wish you two a happy life then.

(If he's wondering whether or not to "rejoin as SK", but living a double life would be hard and -)

S: Wait, where are you going. I just told you I loved you and you're walking away? Did something happen, I thought...

U: You said you like Sniper King, not me. (*insert rant about how SK is so much better than Usopp and all that self degrading bs*)

S: Okay, okay, no. I know you're the same person. But if you insist: I love you too. Not only in a friend way, not because of your persona, but because of you. Usopp.

And awww, would you look at that, they started dating. Time passes and Usopp stops feeling as insecure as he had before. Sanji keeps flirting with women but never means it and they all know it because they always ends up back in each other's arms. But then something devastating happens. Sanji can't stop thinking about how the mosshead never wears a shirt. It's infuriating and Usopp kind of understands, at one point he goes "Have you tried touching his chest? Maybe you'll get it out of your system."

To which Sanji is 1. Speechless, petrified, flabbergasted; 2. Shook and horrified at the suggestion; 3. Kind of obsessed with the idea now that he thinks about it; 4. defensive because "my love, you are all I need how could youuuu think thaaat".

In that order.

Usopp, laughing nervously: It's not like I haven't done it.

Sanji: What?

Usopp: What.

So it turned out, that one night of drinking made Zoro almost kiss Usopp, which he backed away because he was afraid, but then Zoro called it "physical traids" which made him.confused and a bit worried that he didn't know what that was, so he said he'd think about it. Zoro looked at him in a way that conveyed "what is there to think about", but never voiced it. With a shrug, he said okay and never tried anything after that.

So Sanji and Usopp decided that they needed to talk about it with the swordsman himself. To work out the logistics if anything... What he said, however, none of them expected.

Zoro: I don't know why you make it into a big fuss. Physical traids, yeah, it's like: I find you attractive, you find me attractive, we care for each other so we make out or if we're feeling it - more. How can Luffy het it, but you can't.

Jaws on the floor.

They call Luffy in on the conversation and it gets worse.

Luffy: Yeah, it's like when I'm bored, or feel like it, we do stuff. But I don't really wanna kiss anyone else and I told him you guys are okay to kiss cause I trust you!

Explaining to them that, yes - that's kind of what dating is, and yes - they've been technically exclusively dating until now, went about as well as one might have hoped. At one point, Sanji definitely got frustrated from his own overthinking about why Marimo had hit on his boyfriend but never him. To which Zoro responded that he had tried a couple of times but Sanji just kicked or ignored him, so he gave up, thinking he wasn't interested.

And at some point Luffy definitely drops something like "I'd like to try with you guys too, it could be fun." with a beaming smile and both Usopp and Sanji wouldn't be able to stop thinking about ot for a week straight, low-key obsessing over it until they decide, okay, yes. And then they would tell him and he would just go "Oh, right, forgot about that, sure, let's do it!"

(idk this was funnier in my head)

[fatesmono]

valentines day with yoongi

✮⋆˙ warning : some language + i haven’t written in half a year so.

✮⋆˙ this is an “x reader” so yk insert gender <3

✮⋆˙a.n : so todays valentine’s day (its the 13th at 11:59 posting this, great job me :3). so happy valentines i guess. i’m spending it celebrating jaehyun's birthday and writing abt my husband who’s in the war. i haven’t written in like, six years (six months) so pls go easy on me 

✮⋆˙enjoy loves <3333 happy valentines day !!

i never liked valentine’s day. it was always a stupid ass holiday if i do say so myself. am i saying that bc i never had a good valentine ? …maybe so, why are you so nosy ?? anyways, that was before i met him, min yoongi. i never met a man who says he hates a holiday so much but also goes all out for it. our first valentines last year i expected him to not really get me anything or like a bouquet of flowers since it wasn’t that much…i got a bouquet alright, like seven of them (he had said he didn’t know which one i would like so he just got me all of the ones he thought i would want), plus a shit ton of chocolate and just little things like one of his hoodies and this ring i had been eyeing for like months beforehand. so much for “valentines day isn’t really my thing” right ? all men do is lie, even min yoongi.

okay but anyways, here we are now, a year later. i wanna prove myself this year, i refuse to be out-valentines’d by him, no matter what that takes. now just one problem, he’s rich, i work at a coffee shop. shit, i know right ? but we will make it work i don’t care. 

so have i had this planned out for the last two months like a gta heist ? yes. but i NEED this day to go perfect. did it ? NO. NO IT DIDNT. first the necklace i got him with his name won’t be ready until the 17th, and then the kiss hoodie i was working on for him GETS BLEACHED SPILLED ON HIM, curtesy of our cat, johnny, and then; if it wasn’t going awful anyway, the cupcakes i made for him burned. and i’m going to his studio as we speak…this is my thirteenth reason. so right now all we have is his favorite flowers, a bleached hoodie with my kisses and a book of poems i wrote for him, sigh. SIGH. and if it didn’t help, he already gave me half of my gift before he left and it’s ten times better. A ROSE GOLD NECKLACE, he got me a rose gold encrusted with the sun because “i’m the sun to his moon”, he makes me wanna bash my head sometimes from how sweet he is. 

so getting to his studio, the definition of “shaking in my little boots”. i can hear him practicing his music from outside his studio, it’s like walking into beethoven working on smth if beethoven was your 30 year old idol boyfriend for a kpop group, if that makes sense, which is doesn’t so. anyways, i put in the code for his studio (it’s our anniversary, excuse me while i cry.) and quietly walk in to not disturb him, which isn’t that hard since he has tunnel vision as he invented it, and quietly tap his shoulder gently to get his attention. he turns around, taking off his headphones and noticing me with a small smile on his face, which might as well have been a kiss from him then and then. 

“hey love, happy valentine’s day, what are you doing here ?”, god why does he have to have such a perfect voice; it’s like he doesn’t even have to try. i go on to give him to give him his gift and try to explain that i had much more to give him and i knew it wasn’t enough to give and- and he cuts me off. good job if i do say so myself because the yapping i do, i could win a medal. 

“honey honey, this is perfect…you didn’t even have to get me anything, and you wrote me poems…that’s like writing me a song, this means the world to me. you remembered my favorite flowers, and this hoodie..i don’t think i’ve ever gotten a gift like this from anyone before, not even the guys. thank you so much…”, and my heart just turns into a puddle then and there. all my worries gone in a second, how does he do it ? he really should’ve become a therapist in another life, but i guess he does that with his music. but anyways, did i expect him to like the gift ? absolutely not. i did try to pay for dinner that night and he still didn’t let me do it, saying it was “an extra gift” as if i needed anymore gifts. remind me next to try and not outgift a rich idol who’s secret love language is definitely gift giving. 

i’m still getting next years gifts ready anyways. i’m so winning next year, i don't care.

[matthews-69]

Uh...hi. I'm not really sure what I'm doing on this app.

I'm Paul 69.

Yes. 69. Go ahead and laugh.

I'm one of the many clones of Paul Matthews made by CCRP, and after realizing that there were other clones here on Tumblr, I thought that maybe I should give this place a shot.

...wait, I'm supposed to do some facts about myself, right?

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Aroace

I probably have autism, but I've never been officially diagnosed.

I definitely have anxiety. (Also have never been officially diagnosed)

I work at Starbucks. If you've ever seen the guy who looks like Paul with the name "Mathew Paulton" taking your order...that's me.

I have a pet rat! Her name is Rattimus and I love her very much!

Also if you work for CCRP, please don't tell the higher-ups I'm here. I don't want to go back to the basement-

[OOC UNDER THE CUT :3]

Yo, what's up! It's ya boy Joey (or Disaster) from @multi-fandomdisaster back at it again with another OC rp blog!

Let's jump straight into the ground rules:

NO NSFW!!! Paul 69 may be a legal adult, but I sure as heck am not, so please refrain from explicit content! Anything explicit sent in will be ignored and deleted. That being said, dirty jokes are allowed!!! (this is a character with "69" in his name. I'd almost be disappointed if someone didn't end up making a joke about it /silly) If you're unsure if something would be taken as explicit or not, don't be afraid to message me privately and ask!

Hatchetfield-general triggering topics may be brought up. I will try to tag anything potentially triggering with "tw: [insert trigger]" as best as I can, but I might forget at times. PLEASE let me know if you'd like me to add a trigger tag! I want y'all to stay safe out there!!!

Any of 69's dialogue will look like this, while rp direction will look [like this]. All ooc stuff will be written in red and found under the tag #Disaster says stuff

And speaking of tags, here's what the tagging system will look like:

General in-character posts: #6-9 posts

Rp replies: #6-9 responds

OOC posts: #Disaster says stuff

(I would have made it "#69 posts" & "#69 responds", but it turns out that if you put the number "69" in the tags of a post, Tumblr immediately assumes your post is explicit and throws it into the void, never to be seen again, so that's fun lmao)

If you have any ooc questions about the character, don't be afraid to send an ask here or at my main account! I'm always happy to talk about my silly little guy lol

And with all of that, I hope you have fun and have a great day!!! :D

[luaspersona]

Seoul Town Road | kth (m)

pairing ↠ horseback riding instructor!taehyung x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; idiots to lovers; light fluff; pwp; crack. summary ↠ having a sore ass on a Saturday after spending a day riding with Taehyung is nothing like you anticipated. rating ↠ +18 | minors DO NOT interact warnings ↠  tae was supposed to be a himbo, but reader is the stupid one; ig this doesn’t qualify 100% as reader insert, the reader is very black coded, but it’s still vague enough; jimin’s a lil shit; reader likes keke palmer (‘cus of good taste ofc 💅🏽); reader is in denial; bickering; crying, but not the way you think; i make one joke about being in the closet so there’s that; taehyung’s hands 😩; there’s an innocent massage that turns sexual; explicit smut: super soft dom!taehyung, a LOT of praise kink, teasing (i can’t help myself), begging (borderline desperation), light dirty talk, body worship, tit play, fingering, unprotected sex, slow sex and that’s a WARNING, brief oral sex (m. receiving), cum eating. word count ↠  8.5k note ↠ hey, y’all 🤠 i’ll casually pretend this didn’t take forever for me to finish and that i haven’t vanished on the meantime, so let’s not talk about it *clears throat* ok, so… it all started with this video, then i saw this, and here we are. also, pls ignore the corny ass title, it was provisional until i couldn’t come up with anything better, then it suddenly wasn’t. note² ↠ always need to thank @uarmymoonlight for being the most precious being ever and helping me outline and organize my thots on this one, ily 🤟🏽 note³ ↠ also, thank you @badgalsgetinfree again for making me this beautiful! banner 🥺 you’re really talented and i appreciate you! and thank you @eoieopda and @namjinsmoonchile for beta reading this and taking their time to make sure this wasn't complete shit lol

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

It seemed like a really good idea at first. And, granted, it was almost fun: Taehyung’s firm grip on your hips and that large palm warming your thigh was definitely something, but goddamnit if your butt isn’t sore as fuck. 

Now, here you lay, ridiculous groans muffled by the soft fabric of your comforter as you try to balance a hot water bag over your hurt ass. And the worst part? He seemed so unimpressed. Meeting your eyes with nothing but amusement at your pathetic riding attempt.

That settles it. You’re never horseback riding again.

“For the record, I think you’re being pathetic about this,”Jimin says. 

“Shit, I think the pain must be affecting my memory too, ‘cus I don’t remember asking you a damn thing, man.”

He rolls his eyes, reclining on the chair. 

“I don’t need your permission to tell you that you’re being stupid.”

“Well, then I choose to ignore you.”

He huffs. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“Then give up already.”

“Girl, just look at you. You have a water bag on your ass and you haven’t even fucked the guy.”

“You know what, maybe I just like the warmth.”

“Stop being stubborn. I bet Taehyung would be more than down to fuck you.”

You groan, burying your face in your comforter. “It’s not that simple.”

“Except it is.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve fucked everyone you’ve met, what’s so different about him?”

“Are you slutshaming me?”

Jimin takes a deep breath. 

“I’m shy-shaming you for not fucking the guy you’ve been pining over for the last six months. Quite the opposite.”

“I’m not pining. I do not pine.”

“Right, ‘cus you always wanted to learn how to ride a fucking horse.” He rolls his eyes.

…

Yeah, you don’t really have an answer to that.

To be honest? You didn’t even know horseback riding instructor was a real job. Much less that there is a stud farm near campus that offers part-time slots for college students that are too broke to care about employment rights. But then, Taehyung used his first paycheck to gift Yoongi an overpriced craft whiskey for his birthday and buy Jimin an original Celine sneaker for their “wonderful six months of friendship” — being a perfectly good example of why, even employed, college students stay broke.

Add that piece of knowledge to an ungodly amount of alcohol and you wake up to months of avoiding major embarrassments shattered by a “hoe much 4 u 2 teacj mr how 2 ridw?” text. And sure, you could’ve just dismissed it, said you were drunk or whatnot — but you were completely sober when you confirmed the date. The messages you exchanged after were pretty tame. He told you he could give you a free first lesson (“you’re a friend!”), explained to you how it worked, arranged some riding clothes for you and asked if Saturday was a good day. It wasn’t. But fuck it, you made it work.

It’s not like you and Taehyung never hung out. As far as he was concerned, you were friends. You drink together, you tease him, he sometimes teases you back, but never just the two of you. Never after you accidentally called out his name in bed two months ago — resulting in a pretty pissed and unremarkable hookup and a new feeling to shove to the dark corners of your mind until it finally disappeared.

Except it never did. And then, before you knew it, you were taking forty minutes to choose what underwear to use at a goddamn stud farm (you went with lace, by the way — you never know).

The class itself was terrible. Taehyung had to prioritize the hundreds of kids with cowboy hats whose parents had actually paid to be there, so it took around two hours for him to finally remember you were there too. He then introduced you to a pretty horse, told you her name was Princess and you allowed yourself to pretend that every call of her name was aimed at you.

“Listen,” Jimin’s voice pierces through your thoughts. “I’ll give you some tough love now, so pay attention and just stop being nasty with me. I’m on your side here.”

“... Okay?”

“You’re my best friend, and I know you have that weird ‘the shittier the better’ philosophy going on, and I can’t change that. But if you’re not doing anything about your crush, then stop acting weird around him, ‘cus I’m sure he’s noticing. Just… I don’t know, put your big girl pants on, accept that you’re into the guy and move the fuck on.”

“I’m not in—” your rebuttal dies in your tongue at the glare Jimin directs at you. You scoff. “Whatever.”

“Have you talked since yesterday?”

“No.”

You're lying, of course. Earlier that morning you got a little consolation prize.

[08:48am] taehyung 🥵🐎: yesterday was nice! it's been a while since i taught an actual adult lol

[08:50am] taehyung 🥵🐎: how was is for you?

[09:11am] you: it was nice

[09:32am] you: i’m sore af now, tho 💀

Hours later and your text stood unanswered — making the twenty minutes you spent overthinking it even more pathetic.

Jimin narrows his gaze.

“You didn’t say anything stupid, right?”

Well.

“Depends on your definition of stupid.”

“Something like saying he smells really good for a vet major.”

You groan. “I said that once, and it was meant as a compliment.”

He offers you a pointed look. Eyebrows raising just slightly as if to say “I rest my case”, before a notification lights up his phone.

“How’s your butt?”

You welcome the change in subject.

“Better.”

“Good. I have to go now.” A small smile tugs on his lips. “Have a date.”

“Ohhh” you smirk teasingly, “on your way to win someone’s heart?”

“You bet.”

“Nice. Have fun, Chim.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you later.” He gathers his things and places a kiss on the top of your head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

“Great.” He steps out of your dorm, glancing at you one last time and saying “stop being stupid”, before leaving your room.

Jimin clearly overestimates you.

The next hour is spent with occasional reheatings of the bag and apprehensive checks of your phone — and it doesn’t take long until Jimin’s words spark a frustration deep inside you.

You know what? You’re not into Taehyung. No. Absolutely not. No way.

You pride yourself on being on control of shit like this, with a terrible and meticulous track record of only fucking people you pick up from trash — bonus points if they treat you like shit afterwards to ruin any sparkling possibility of feelings.

Actually, coming to think of it, it’s probably just his kindness that gets you confused.

…

Of course, it could also be his eyes.

Or his deep voice.

Shit, but there’s also that boxy smile, tho…

Ugh.

Fuck Jimin and his preposterously hot friend. And fuck whoever is knocking on your door at such a vulnerable time.

You groan into your pillow, deciding in no time not to answer it; the bag on your butt too warm to give up for that weird ass finance major from the first floor that’s still trying to get you to invest in his crypto currency or whatever the hell that powerpoint meant. Besides, you look like shit, and you ain’t gonna let—

Your thoughts are interrupted by your ringtone. Normally, you’d patiently wait for whoever’s calling to give up and text you instead, like a decent fucking person, but when you grab your phone and Taehyung’s name flashes on the screen a surge of panic runs through your body. Before you can even process what you’re doing, your fingers move to decline the call.

You drop your phone on the bed. Staring it down for a full minute before impulsively reaching for it and hitting the call button under Taehyung’s contact. 

He picks up after the first ring.

“Did you just hang up on me?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Damn. Cold.”

“Why are you calling?”

“Wanted to ask you something real quick. You live in Bang Si-hyuk Hall, right?”

“You could’ve just texted me for that.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Second floor, dorm thirteen right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Right. Are you home?”

“Yeah?” 

“Great! Can you open your door?”

“Huh?” God, you’re so eloquent.

“I’m here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Pretty sure I am. Here, let me just—” another knock hits your door, “hear that? That’s me.”

You gasp, immediately jumping off the bed and fighting to stifle the subsequent groan at the way your bottoms sting with the abrupt movement.

“Shit–I, uhm, wait a sec.” You say, before ending the call.

Your face is all puffy from being pressed on the pillow the whole day and you’re still wearing your pajamas. You control the urge to cry at the prospect of Taehyung seeing you like this, seeking some sort of consolation as you run your fingers over your eyebrows, in a feeble attempt to make something look presentable.

You cross the space to your door, quickly scrunching your hair before opening it. 

“Hey,” he smiles. When the universe created Kim Taehyung, there was no mercy, because how on Earth can a man look this fucking good? And as his deep eyes fix on your chest, you can feel your brain trying to come up with its own syntax. “Where the hell did you get this from?”

You follow his gaze, landing on your less than flattering cropped pajama top that says “some people ride the crazy train, I drive that bitch”. You grimace.

“Why? Not to your taste?”

“You know what? You’re almost pulling it off.”

“Almost? This is my best look.” You sure hope not. “Besides, I feel like it encapsulates my crazy bitch personality.”

“Sure.” He chuckles, and his attention is on your face again. “So, I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I saw your message when I left work and I… well,” he reaches behind him, fumbling on his backpack before he reveals a small pharmacy bag “thought I could be of help.”

Your stomach flips. A perfectly normal reaction to a friend buying medicine and coming all the way to another friend’s place after seeing they were in pain. 

“I just felt bad, I guess.” He continues when you just keep staring at his face — that beautiful, sculpted face of his. “I forget how painful it is to ride for the first time and I didn’t give you proper aftercare instructions.” Did those words actually leave his mouth? “Can I come in?”

Admittedly, there were some horny nights with some thirsty thoughts — but in none of your fantasies your hair had this much frizz when you let him in your place alone for the first time, so you immediately shake your head.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. You’re probably tired from work and all.”

“No, really, it’s no heat. I know how bad the pain is. I used to be sore as fuck all the time, so I learned just how to deal with it.”

…

You mean… he did come all this way to provide some assistance, and you’re not rude — not all the time at least. So you step aside to give him room to enter, closing the door once he does.

Taehyung’s eyes roam around your room, and after some seconds of quiet inspection, he regards you with a frown. “Thought you had a Keke Palmer poster.”

You mimic his confusion.

“What?”

“Pretty sure you said you had one when we watched Nope.”

You take a few seconds to understand what he’s talking about, but eventually Hobi’s ridiculous attempt at making movie nights a thing a couple of months ago returns to you.

“Damn, you remember that? Obsessed much?” You tease, prompting Taehyung to roll his eyes.

You’re grinning when you step in front of your closet, slowly bending to grab the large Keke Palmer Glamour cover that you printed out months ago.

“Oh. You keep it in the closet?”

“It builds character.” You turn to show it to him. “Also if I so much as stain the wall, I have to pay a fee.” You pout. “But I only found out after spending a shit ton of money to get this laminated and framed, so.”

“I can hang stuff in my apartment.” He shrugs.

“Congratulations. Wanna tell me how nice it is to have an individual bathroom too?”

“No, I’m just sayin’... you could hang it there.”

“What, you like Keke Palmer now? You haven’t even watched True Jackson.” If this man had a flaw, that was definitely it.

“I mean, we could watch together. We never do anything just the two of us.”

Yeah, well, no shit.

“That’s ‘cus you annoy the hell out of me.” Which isn’t 100% wrong. “Besides, we just rode horses together, my sore ass is definitely a testament to that.” You turn to place the poster back. “Which reminds me. What about the drugs you were going to give me?” 

“Here,” he reaches for the pharmacy bag again, pulling out a pain relief plaster from it, “this is the best one I’ve found, and it doesn’t have any major side effects or anything...” he pauses. “You aren’t pregnant and shit, right?”

“And shit?”

“Like… suspecting?”

“Not really.” 

“Then we should be safe.” 

“Damn. You ain’t sure?” You laugh anxiously.

“... ‘Course I am.”

“You hesitated.”

“I used this before, and I’m fine.”

“You can’t really get pregnant, though, can you?”

“Thought you said you’re not pregnant.” He narrows his eyes.

“That’s not the point.”

He grimaces.“People from work use it. And some of them can get pregnant, so… you’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all.”

“Great, then.” He smiles and you can’t help smiling back. “Where’s hurting?”

“Basically my back and legs… also my butt, but I ain’t sticking patches there.”

He nods. “Seems fair.”

Taehyung’s attention shifts to your bed.

“Mind laying down for me?”

You swallow the urge to vomit.

“Sorry?”

“It’s easier if I apply them for you. If you place them wrong they won’t work properly. Besides, it’s probably better if we don’t use a lot, for…” he darts his eyes away, “safety concerns, in case you ever want to pop some kids out.”

Yeah.

It makes sense, right?

“Okay.” You narrow your eyes. “But no funny business, mister.” You say, like a fool.

He raises his palms in surrender, before helping you climb the bed carefully. You shift a bit, pulling the hem of your shorts lower over your ass as you lay on your stomach. 

“Show me where it hurts.” He fishes for a patch inside the package.

You extend your hand to hover over your lower back and then point generally to your thighs.

“No, show me where it hurts the most. I can’t put these everywhere.”

“There’s not a single place, Taehyung.” You scoff. “I barely got up from bed this morning.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll never horseback ride again— by the way, why it’s horseback riding? Where else would I ride?” You shake your head.

“Fuck if I know. Also, the pain is just because you’ve never done it before. The more you ride, the more accustomed you get. Like… like sex!”

Yeah, you’re not having this conversation with him.

“Just put the damn patches, man.”

“Wait, let me think.”

“God, this will take some time.”

“Shut up.” He goes quiet for a moment, and you turn to find him looking at your bottom with his hand on his chin. Not flattering, really. “Let me give you a massage.”

You can only hope that he can’t see the way you shiver as the words leave his mouth. 

You laugh.

What.

“What?” You voice, twisting to look at him.

“It’ll help to relieve the pain, then we can see the best spot to place the patches.” 

“You just wanna touch my butt,” you can only hope you don’t sound as desperate as you feel.

He chuckles.

“You wish.” Fuck, you kinda do. “But I’m serious, it’ll be good to soothe it. Also, my messages are pretty good.”

You won’t do this.

You shouldn’t do this.

…

No, really, you shouldn’t do this.

But then again… you and Jimin have given each other a bunch of massages before. Even Namjoon had given you some proper kneading before, and it was no big deal. This is just a friend helping out another friend who happens to be in pain.

…

Yeah, maybe Jimin’s right. Maybe you are stupid, and maybe you do stupid things when it comes to Taehyung.

“Whatever.” You return to your previous position, resting your cheek on your palms on the bed. “You better be good at this.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll want nothing more.” He taunts, and you’re afraid he might be too right on that one.

You and Taehyung have touched before. He’s a cuddler, so occasionally you fall victim to his hugs. He’s also been beside you in the backseat of Yoongi’s car one too many times, pressed together as you try to make room for Jimin’s thick ass. There was also that time you fell on top of him when you all went to a water park and he stood at the bottom of the slide — like a dumbass —, but even then it was mostly your foot on his face.

So now, as his large palms find the bare skin of your waist, exposed by your cropped top, it’s like the first time you’ve ever been touched.

But the feeling is short-lived, as Taehyung immediately pulls his hands away.

“Are my hands cold?”

“No?”

“You got goosebumps.”

“Oh.” You chuckle awkwardly. “It was kinda sudden.”

“Sorry.” He pauses. “I’m going in, then.”

You sigh when the weight of his palms returns to your waist, and Taehyung chooses to ignore the way your body still shivers while his feather-light touch travels over your lower back. 

“You comfortable?”

“Yes.”

He hums and you close your eyes.

He gradually starts to add more pressure, digging into your skin and eliciting a quiet grunt out of your lips when he kneads on a particularly sore area.

“Sorry” he stops briefly, “this will probably hurt some, but let me know if it gets too much.”

Months of one sided sexual attraction are enough to make his five minute touch already too much. And you know this ain’t looking good. Not with the way your body receives this as if it’s some kind of tantric experience. You can already feel heat spreading under your skin while his hands get familiar with your back, and you’re definitely way more tense then you should be — but you do your best to force your mind out of the gutter and try to enjoy this friendly massage.

And to be honest, he’s actually really good at this.

His hands work in a disarming rhythm. Hard pressure unwinding your sore spots, only to return with soft and delicate caresses whenever your pain announces itself. He pays attention to every inch of your hips, charting the flesh with the utmost care and determination, and making it impossible for you to hold grunts and soft sighs of relief — which, despite bringing a tingling heat to your face, only seem to spur him on.

As his fingers trace every line of your lower back and ease pains you didn’t even know you had, it doesn’t take long for you to allow yourself to relax, and it’s no surprise when your mind wanders. It wanders with simple, yet agonizing questions, such as how those palms would feel in other parts of your body. Nothing too daring, just… 

… on your neck, untying the knots you sure have there too, or… 

… or on your shoulders, kneading the tense areas…

… but maybe your thighs too, caressing their soft, tender skin…

… and maybe a bit higher, in between them too.

You’d never admit it out loud, but for a moment, while your waist is so attentively being touched by him, you pretend that this whole shallow breathing, overthinking and nauseating butterflies thing isn’t one sided, and that his hands aren’t just soothing a pain he feels somewhat responsible for, but rather claiming your skin, like you have wished he’d do, caring for your body as if it’s his to care for.

“You good?” He asks, and you feel intoxicated by his quiet voice sounding from above you. 

You hum softly. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“Nice. Can I massage your thighs too?”

Of course you nod. How could you not? Nevermind your thighs are sensitive as fuck. Nevermind the telltale longing you feel as soon as his hands leave your back. What minds, though, is the welcoming warmth of when they find your legs. The delicate and hesitant contact is enough for you to suck in a sharp breath, firmly grasping the comforter beneath your hand.

His palms are as purposeful as they were on your hips, easing the soreness and softening the flesh, while being careful not to surpass or even brush the limit of your shorts — but holy fuck how you wish he would. You wish he would just read your mind and feel as electrified by your skin as you feel by his, because you know — you just know that you’re melting way too fast, tight grip on the bed getting more useless by the minute, and you don’t even notice when your reasonable grunts and sighs turn into breathy whimpers and mellow moans.

But Taehyung notices. Hands hesitating before finally coming to a full stop and parting from your skin when a brush in the hem of your shorts prompts a wanton moan to fall from your lips.

You groan at the loss, your glazed over eyes making you oblivious to his hooded ones as you lift yourself on your elbows to better face him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uhm,” his eyes flicker to your pouting lips, “maybe we— I think we should stop…” he clears his throat. “Yeah. We should stop.”

“Why?” You frown, cautiously turning to sit up straight.

He rehearses an answer a couple of times, opening and closing his mouth exasperatedly, before deciding to not give a fuck to be coherent. “‘Cus— god, you are–you” he runs his hands through his hair, before chuckling humourlessly “shit, you’re driving me fucking insane,” he blurts, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What?” You mutter, not keeping up with the fact that Taehyung’s having a mental breakdown right now.

“You seriously need to ask?” Is he… angry at you right now? “God, you just— shit, sound so fucking hot, you sound like heaven, and touching you is making me all… I don’t even know, I’m not–I can’t think right now, shit, do you have any idea how soft your skin is? Just fucking look at yourself. Your bod–you’re just so beautiful and I’m touching it like it’s not making me fucking horny as hell, and I know we’re friends and shit, but god you’re just…” he finally breaths before noticing your wide eyes and agape mouth. “Shit, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll just leave, sorry for whatever the hell this was, please don’t tell Jimi—”

It’s only when Taehyung starts to step back that you snap out of your own head.

Shit.

Jimin is right.

“Taehyung” you reach for his wrist, “shut up.”

“No, but I’m—”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

For a second he looks just as helpless as you feel.

“What.”

“Taehyung,” you stare deep inside his eyes, “keep touching me.”

He blinks, but steps closer to the bed again.

“What are you saying?” 

“Damn, boy, do I have to spell it out for you?” You tease, but the neediness is evident in your tone.

His expression softens immediately and he chuckles — somewhat incredulous, somewhat relieved —, drawing his tongue along his bottom lip as he allows his eyes to trail over your whole body, traveling over your chest, then down your legs, before he’s returning his attention to your lips.

Not a single hint of hesitancy veiling his actions anymore.

He steps closer, placing one of his knees on the bed and leaning over you. His hand cradles your jaw, softly tracing the skin. You can feel his breath fanning over your face, and you promptly close your eyes, anticipating what his kiss would feel like. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He whispers against your ear. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Your mind spins at the pet name, his deep voice lacing it with the purest of honeys as you feel excitement tightening every muscle in your body.

“Taehyung, I…” you swallow thickly, feeling his pillowy lips touching your cheek “I want you.”

You sigh.

“Please.”

And then, his touch leaves your face, and you open your eyes, confused.

He stares at you with desire blanketing his eyes. A small smile crosses his lips before he opens his mouth again.

“Lay back down on your stomach for me, then.” He smirks. “Let me finish your massage.”

You return to your previous position in a heartbeat, expecting Taehyung to do the same, but as soon as you’re comfortable — or as comfortable as one could be while this tense — his legs circle your body and he straddles your thighs, knees framing your hips.

“This ok?” You nod, whispering a quick affirmative. “Tell me if that changes, I can’t see your face.”

“Okay.”

This time, when Taehyung touches you, he traces your skin as one would the finest porcelain, fingertips traveling through the expanse of your back as if trying to memorize each and every inch of it. But he doesn’t avoid reaching higher now, palms raising your top slightly before feeling his way along your sides and down to your ass.

He molds the flesh under his palm, but freezes when a soft squeeze prompts a hiss out of your lips.

“Shit, sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say immediately.

“Right.” He hesitates. “Also, please let me know if I hurt you at any point.” You nod, but he still doesn’t continue. “Tell me you understand.”

“I’ll let you know if you hurt me at any point.” You assure, wiggling your hips a little. “Now, please.”

He chuckles. Your eyes flutter shut as soon as his touch finds your legs, thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you feel like you’re learning how to breathe all over again.

The pleasure he’s eliciting from your body is so profound it’s almost worrisome, and it’s all you can do not to get too much in your head, because you’ve never been touched like this before.

Like, yeah, sure, you could’ve guessed Taehyung’s hands were sinful, or that some deep-buried pent up emotion would make the knot in your stomach that much more delicious, but you don’t think you could’ve dreamt with how easily he’s able to read your body, working you up at an alarming speed as his patient but insistent touch make you feel like one of those white mystical bitches who cum on camera with that tantric bullshit you’ve laughed about before.

If it weren’t for the way your panties are soaking wet already, uncomfortably sticking to your pussy, and for the weight of his body above you, you’d sure be blaming this on some weird sex dream you’d rather never acknowledge. 

But as much as you’re enjoying it — and somewhat surprised at his patience —, it doesn’t take long before you start squirming under him, begging for something more intimate.

“Taehyung,” you sob, “more.”

“Shit, you sound so needy. Nothing like the bad bitch I know.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, and it’s supposed to be a reprimand, but he only chuckles.

“Don’t get me wrong, though, I fucking love it. Love to know I’m the one making you feel like this.”

You ignore the way his tone makes your brain stop for a full second before you wiggle down, trying to near his hand to where you need him the most, but his hold is firm on your thighs.

“Shit, don’t tease me.” You cry.

Taehyung clicks his tongue, body leaning forward to press down on your back before his lips find the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think you understand what’s gonna happen here, baby” how is Taehyung’s voice so fucking hot, god, this can’t possibly be fair. “If you want this, you’ll have to behave and listen to me.” His hand finally moves, and a strangled moan falls from your lips when his thumb finds your pussy through the thin fabric of your shorts. “Can you do that?” His lips tease the skin below your ear. “Can you be a good girl for me and let me take care of you?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why does he sound so calm? And why do you feel anything but?

“Yes,” you mutter under your breath, and Taehyung pulls your earlobe between his teeth before returning to his previous position.

“Good. Now tell me what you want, baby. And be clear.”

His demanding tone sends a wave of arousal to your panties. 

“Touch me.” You blurt.

“Ain’t I?” He swipes his thumb over you again and you gasp.

“No–not enough. Just… fuck, please,” you swallow thickly, trying to think, “you know what I want.”

“Uhm, but I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Another swipe. 

“Shit” you shudder, “give–give me more.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Take this– my shorts, take them off, please”

He chuckles. 

“So needy.” He mocks, but if the speed with which he gets off of you is anything to go by, he’s not much better.

He’s careful to not spark any pain as he slowly pulls your shorts down your legs, but leaves your panties on as he straddles you again and gently grabs your ass.

“Taehyung,” you whine.

“Shit, you sound so pretty saying my name like that,” his fingers swiftly pull your panties aside, and you both let out appreciative moans when he feels up and down your aching pussy. “You’re soaking my fingers, baby,” he murmurs, fingers parting your folds, “want me this bad?”

“I want you so much,” you answer, mind functioning way past self-preservation.

His hand dips down to rub your clit, making your walls flutter around nothing. He speeds up and you hear how wet you are for him, feeling your arousal dripping down your thighs. Taehyung shifts a bit and helps you carefully spread your legs with him still above you, and the momentary discomfort is worth it when he pushes two fingers inside your aching cunt.

“So fucking hot,” he groans, low tone dripping with lust as he starts to properly finger you open for him, “just sucking me in. Can’t wait to feel that around my cock.”

You shudder at his words, doing all you can to not rip the comforter with the force you’re clutching it.

“God, baby, wan–want that too” you gasp.

“Yeah?” 

“Want you to fuck me dumb.”

“Holy shit,” he lets out a strained chuckle, “I’d love that too, baby, but if I did that it wouldn’t really help with the pain.”

You swear you had an answer in the tip of your tongue, but Taehyung curves his fingers in that exact moment, hitting your sweet spot just right and you suddenly don’t recognize your own voice, spilling filthy nothings and moaning shamelessly as he pairs his now precise rutting with a languid grinding of his palm on your cunt. “So what about I fuck you sweet and slow instead? Worship this gorgeous body of yours, hum?” 

Taehyung takes the way your pussy squeezes his fingers as the answer that it is, and adds a third digit past your dripping folds, further preparing you for him. Your hips jolt when he takes his thumb to your clit, smearing your juices around before he’s rubbing circles over it.

You feel your stomach tensing the longer he fingers you, but as delicious as this is, you didn’t fantasize about this day for months only to cum on his fingers.

“Taehyung, I’m—” you moan wantonly, body tensing under him, “I’m close, but I don’t wanna—”, his fingers leave your cunt with a loud squelch, and he pushes himself away from you just as quickly.

“Turn around for me, angel.” 

You take a second to process his words, his abrupt stop making you feel devastatingly empty, but as soon as you do as he says, he dives down to slot his lips against yours — and holy shit.

Taehyung kisses you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Mouth molding over yours with an intensity that makes you feel loved. His hands travel over your body with similar admiration, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips to tangle with yours as you two savor each other.

Your mouths fit perfectly together while your skin burns with desire. He’s such a good kisser, matching your rhythm with ease. 

You slither your fingers through his hair, pulling the strands and turning his face slightly to deepen the kiss. He makes you drunk, intoxicated in the sweet taste of his lips, and the sloppier it gets, the hungrier you get.

“Wanna kiss you everywhere” he moans, mouth parting from yours to trace your chin and jaw, licking and sucking on the skin, while he starts to push your top up.

“You first” you mutter, running your hands down his chest and sliding them beneath his shirt, nails scraping against his stomach before you’re raising it up his torso.

He sends you a disarming smirk, kneeling on the bed to pull his shirt off.

“God, Taehyung, for fuck’s sake” you groan. “How are you real?”

“You’re one to say.”

“You damn right I am.” You scoff, suddenly self-conscious. “Have you seen yourself? How do you expect me to undress in front of you?”

“Nah, stop that shit,” he huffs out a laugh, leaning above you again to whisper against your ear, “where’s the bad girl I know? The one who owns every room she walks in, huh? If anyone should be insecure here, it should be me,” you bite your lip and he tugs on your shirt, “let me see you too, babe.”

You pout, but help him take off your top — and his gaze burns through your bare chest, impossibly darker.

“So fucking perfect,” he mouths, before diving in and taking your lips again, kissing you fervently and letting his hands run free over your whole body.

His large palms cup your tits, grabbing them and caressing the soft flesh for a while, then pinching and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. He moves his lips to your cheek, leaving small bites along the side of your jaw before he buries his face in the curve of your neck, licking and kissing every single spot.

“I’ve been dreaming about this body for so long” he says against your skin, “I thought I was gonna die when I saw you with a bikini on that trip” he admits. “But seeing you like this— actually seeing you,” he takes his lips further down, “shit, you’re prettier than any dream, than any thought I could have.” 

You feel your whole body warm with his praise, mind spinning as you try to make sense of his words — but failing miserably as he closes his mouth around one of your tits. Your eyes flutter shut and you roughly pull his hair, eliciting the sexiest fucking sounds out of him, all while rewarding them with your own loud pleasure as his tongue fondles with your nipple. His lips chart every inch of you, leaving no spot untasted or unkissed as he makes your body his.

“You make me dizzy,” he mumbles, “shit, can’t fucking get enough.”

He seems so fucking satisfied. Smuggly smiling against your body whenever you shudder or moan a bit too loud, pride overwhelming his features whenever his name meets his ears in a shaky breath, reveling in the way you melt under him.

Taehyung pulls the waistband of your panties between his teeth, biting down on the fabric to then carefully and slowly slide them down your legs, not daring to take his eyes away from yours until you are completely naked under him.

“Wanna taste you so bad.”

You feel goosebumps trailing over your skin, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal down your cunt. So, naturally, when you pull him up and shake your head, you’re almost as surprised as him.

“No…” you whisper, and he freezes, worry taking over his face, “want you to fuck me.” Relief washes over his face, before a slow, teasing smirk takes over his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. “Shit, Tae, I need you to fuck me.”

Your whole face heats up when he snickers.

“Say that again.” You bite down on your lip when he grips your flesh with a bit more force than before. “My name,” he whispers, crawling up to caress your cheek. “Say my name like that again. Like you’ll fucking die if I don’t give you what you want.” His palm chases down your neck and pushes your head back a bit. 

“Tae…” you sigh, closing your eyes when he kisses your jaw, “Taehyung, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, so hot” he whispers on your ear. “Begging for cock like a good girl,” you whine when he pulls your earlobe between his teeth. “Are you always needy like this? So desperate to be fucked?”

It is humiliating to admit, and you feel a not-so-sexy kind of anxiety creeping up on you and catching up with you clouded brain, because you know damn well you’ve never begged for shit — and that's why a teasing smile and innocent look is the best you can muster before pulling him in for a kiss. 

Taehyung takes a second to process your touch, but soon melts into it, slipping his tongue past your lips and securing your waist on his hands. He rolls his hips, pressing his clothed erection on your cunt, and you both shiver at the friction.

“Why the fuck you still have your pants on?” 

“Was kinda distracted,” he scoffs, and your hands reach between your bodies for his belt. You struggle with the poor angle, but eventually manages to open his jeans, and Taehyung lets out a relieved sigh, sitting up to properly push his pants off.

“Hurry up,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together.

“You’re this eager to see my butt?”

“Yeah, wanna see where you hid it.”

“Damn,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he tosses his last piece of clothing away.

It’s pathetic. It’s so fucking pathetic the way your jaw goes slack and your eyes widen. But what can you do when you finally see his cock — the one you’ve imagined way more times than someone who doesn’t have a crush probably should. He’s so hard it sure must be painful and precum collects at the tip, making your mouth water.

“Wanna suck you.”

“If I ain’t tasting you, you ain’t sucking me.” You pout.

“You just scared you won’t last.”

“I wasn’t the one begging less than a minute ago.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckles, slotting himself between your thighs.

He teases up your entrance, smearing your arousal around your pussy until his crown finds your clit and a low moan rips from your throat. You’ve never been this wet before — but you’ve also never felt this wanted before either.

Then, Taehyung’s patience seems to finally have reached its limit — his own teasing overbearing even for himself, because he doesn’t wait another second as he parts your folds, pressing his tip before finally pushing in. You tighten your grip on his shoulder, digging your nails on his flesh while his eyes are hypnotized by the way your cunt throbs around him, adjusting to his size as he fills you to the brim.

“You ok?” He whispers, heavy breath fanning your face as you thread your fingers through his hair.

You nod, “Please, move.”

He starts to roll his hips back.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung groans, eyes rolling back at the way you clench around him.

“Shit,” you moan, “this feels so fucking good,” you’re not really aware of the words leaving your mouth, feeling as if you’ve lost your ability to think — an ability that you weren’t particularly good at in the first place.

When Taehyung moves back in, you can feel every inch of him as he stuffs you full, grinding on you as soon as your hips meet and stimulating every part of you. He sets a disarming pace, cock reaching deep with every stroke and he has to control every urge in his body not to pound into you like you both would like him to. 

And you’re not used to this. You’re not used to the softness of his hold nor with the care he fucks you with. 

Sex for you always felt like a race, but Taehyung makes it feels as if he stopped time altogether. The overwhelming bliss he sparks within your body is just so fucking good, already so much better than any past orgasms you’ve had.

When he feels you fully accommodate him, he speeds up enough to have you spiraling but not enough so your thighs are hurting. Between lustful moans and low groans, his hooded eyes search yours to read your every reaction, to understand which angle makes your brows furrow deeper, which rhythm makes you sound the most vulgar, and you can feel yourself dissolving into pleasure — the toe-curling, mind fucking and dangerous type — in no time.

He whispers the dirtiest things in your ear, tracing your neck with his tongue and biting on your jaw, loud pleasure and wet sounds fill the room. 

You ignore the slight pain that hits your body whenever he makes your hips jolt or your legs shake, mostly because his soothing hands are anxious over your skin: fingers digging on your thighs, palms grabbing your hips, pinning you down on the bed to contain some of your roughest spasms. You’ve never been fucked so deep and so deliciously before.

You babble what seems like his name, but you’re too lost to be sure, desperate and uncoordinated sounds leaving your mouth loud enough to earn you some noise complaints later.

“Shit— ngh, so–so fucking good.” You arch your back, and Taehyung takes his hands to massage your tits.

Your head tilts back on the comforter, eyes squeezing shut despite your desire to keep looking at him — at his dark, unwavering gaze, staring you down while fucking you so deliciously —, but it’s just too much. You swear he’s on a mission to make you lose your goddamn mind as he earnestly fucks you, reaching every spot and grinding on you.

“Feels so good like this,” he grunts, “just sucking me in, so fucking wet.”

And you don’t answer — because you can’t. There’s nothing but Taehyung’s name in your mind, and some shaky version of it reaching his ears.

You can already feel the steady pressure building in the pit of your stomach, making your legs shiver around him as your whole body tightens. 

“Shit,” he buries his face in your neck, feeling you constrict around him, “you close?”

You nod, biting his shoulder as a guttural moan leaves your lips.

“Then cum for me, princess, cream my cock.” He commands, pressing his thumb down on your clit at the same time, and making you come undone beneath him.

Taehyung can't really detain your whole body from quivering, hips buckling while your back arches from before you collapse on the bed.

An exhaustion takes over you, and it feels like hours until you’re finally able to open your eyes again.

Your body’s still quivering with aftershocks, pussy way too sensitive as Taehyung fucks you with lazy, shallow thrusts.

“Shit, that was so fucking hot” he groans, before his brows knit up, “I’m close too.”

He suddenly pulls away, quickly rising to kneeling position and circling his glistening cock with his large hand. His eyes travel over your body as he pumps himself, palm focusing on the tip as he chases his own release.

You ignore the way you pussy clenches at the sight.

“In my mouth,” you mutter, voice barely audible — but he hears you, because his movements falter.

“What did you say?”

“Want you to cum in my mouth.” You lick your lips before supporting yourself on your hands to get closer to his crotch. He groans when you replace his hand with yours, jerking his length to spread some of your juices around before closing your lips around his tip.

His head immediately falls back with an elongated grunt. And you feel your pussy leaking when he starts to twitch inside your mouth. 

“So fucking good,” he praises, making you hum.

It takes only a few expert flicks of your tongue and hollowing of your cheeks before Taehyung’s hips buck and you feel his salty taste spilling down your throat. You keep sucking him, milking every last drop of his cum and swallowing it all like a champ, before releasing him with a pop and cleaning your lips with the back of your hand.

“You just swallowed my cum.” He says, as if trying to process it.

A sly smile takes over your face, but it doesn’t stay long as Taehyung’s face slowly scrunches up in what can only be described as sorrow. His lips turn into a pout and he gets off the bed in a heartbeat, searching for his discarded clothing.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Your mind, empty a second ago, suddenly overflows with a million thoughts. 

Shouldn't you have swallowed his cum? Did he want to cum on your tits? Why the fuck are his eyes glossy like that? Is he crying because he wanted to cum on your tits? Why is your heart about to explode? Say something, why can’t you just say something?

“I’m really sorry about this” he starts, pushing his underwear up his body, “I can’t believe I–that we…” he groans, running his hands through his hair the same way you were doing just seconds ago.

It hits you maybe too late into the overthinking process that having sex with Taehyung wasn't probably the best idea — not only due to his current euphoric attempt at an escape, but also because now, after your brain starts functioning at a normal speed after cuming that hard, you’re finally able to process the messy string of thoughts knotting inside your head and come to the alarming conclusion that… yeah, you kinda have a crush on that man fleeing from you right now — undeniably so, given that he’s struggling to stop crying after fucking you and you still feel the urge to cuddle with him and pinch his cheeks.

The fuck is wrong with you.

“Taehyung.” You call, remnants from his cum lingering on your mouth.

Thank god Keke Palmer is secured behind that closet not to see you failing her like that.

He’s mumbling to himself, seemingly forgetting that you can, in fact, hear him.

“— can’t believe I just fucked her, this did not just happened—” he says, among sniffles, fighting with his zipper, “argh, this was so fucking good, she was so fucking hot and now I just won’t be able to forget this shit and this is the opposite of what I was supposed to do—”

“Taehyung!”

“What?!” He snaps, giving up on his jeans and letting them fall uncomfortably on his thighs. 

“The fuck you on about, man?”

He lets out a strangled noise, exasperated by your calmness.

“How am I supposed to get over you if my dick is now in love with you too?” He blurts, probably unintentionally, probably not realizing that you’re on the receiving end of that statement. 

“... Well, damn.”

He sobs when it hits him. You just chuckle.

“Please, forget I ever said that—”

“Why, tho? This was the most romantic shit someone’s ever said to me.”

His exasperated groans are so fucking cute.

“I… sorry, let’s just pretend I never said anything. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, cus I kinda like you too.”

“That’s not what I…” He closes his mouth immediately, eyes wide in a mix of panic and bewilderment as you smile.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean right now.”

You chuckle.

“Why? Gonna cry?” He actually sobs. “Damn, boy, you sound nothing like the bad bitch I know.” You mock, but then bite your lip and crawl off the bed, trying to stand in front of him despite your stumbling legs. “I like you too, you dumbass. Been liking you for sometime, actually.”

You place your hand on his face, softly cleaning the tears off his cheeks.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He frowns, breathing finally normalizing.

“But you never really talk to me.”

“Yeah, I was kind of in denial and your personality didn’t help.”

“... That’s a compliment, right?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, Tae.”

“And what was yesterday about, then?”

“I was obviously trying to seduce you. And look at you,” you smile proudly, “seduced.”

“Yeah, ‘cus there’s nothing sexier than a sweaty woman fighting to stay on top of a horse, if you ask me.”

He opens one of those large, intoxicating boxy smiles of his, and you’re suddenly unable to smile back.

“Honestly? You intimidated the hell out of me. But seeing you completely out of your element yesterday watching me train some kids at a stud farm?” He chuckles. “Made me realize that… yeah, you’re amazing and all the shit I already thought… But you’re kinda lame too.” 

Your mouth falls open.

“I’m sorry, you just said your dick’s in love with me, asshole.” You roll your eyes. “And you were about to fucking flee the scene. While crying, may I add.”

“Yeah, cus you just ate my cum,” he smirks. “That does something to a guy’s heart.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, right.”

He shakes his head, an annoying smile still plastered on his face.

“I really do like you, you know? And like… we don’t have to figure anything out right now, this doesn’t even feel real yet, but…” he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest, “I really fucking like you.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, slowly running his finger over your lips. This time, his kiss is tender, full of unhesitant affection. You two fumble backwards, and he carefully lays you on your back, falling beside you and pulling you to frame his side.

“I like you too.” You whisper, snuggling closer.

“We can do those corny things together now. Like… uhm, like watch that Real Jackson show you always talk ab—” you grimace.

“It’s True Jackson, Taehyung.”

“Whatever, same difference.” Keke please forgive his ignorant soul. “Oh, and I’ll take you to ride with me.”

“Yeah, don’t push it. There’s not a single chance I’ll be riding again.”

“Oh, no, babe,” he and offers you a smirk, “I meant riding this fucking dick!”

Sigh.

But honestly, that might not be too bad.

note ↠ sooo, what we think? 🥹 writing this after taking a break was way harder than anticipated lol, but i made it! so i hope y'all enjoy it note² ↠ all form of feedback is deeply appreciated! note³ ↠ you can go back to navigation here

[latinapoetbts]

It Was So Wrong It Was Right [PT 3] - KTH & Y/N (Latina)

Story Summary: Y/N loved her twin sister and brother-in-law (KTH) more than life. She would do anything for their happiness; they were all she had after losing her parents. When her twin sister and brother-in-law (KTH) dream of starting a family together comes crumbling down, she can't say no when they ask for her help, even in the most unorthodox way. She'd never tell them no, even if it ruined her in the process. Labels: KTH / Latina Reader Insert | Mini Series AU, Angst, Smut, 18 + Unrequited Love, Psychological Distress | No editing

Part one HERE | Master List | Part 2

Part 3: The After Math.

Hearing the phone ring repeatedly, I winced, then came the buzzing notifying me of the multiple text messages. I know I needed to answer, I just didn't want to. I need a break from the incessant calling and the every 3-day visits from my sister and her husband. I knew she was excited and eager to know the results; she wanted to be a mother so bad. But it was starting to chip away at my soul. I couldn't stand seeing Tae Hyung every 3 days. The tension and the awkwardness were too much. I thought I could be their surrogate. I thought I could compartmentalize, treat the sex as just a guy I knew who would fulfill my horny needs for the night. But no, that’s not what this was at all. It wasn’t just sex for me. I had the best sex of my life with my sister's husband, my high school crush, rekindling the feelings I had buried deep within all those years ago. 

What made everything worse the morning after; I woke up and he was gone. He left as if he had never been there leaving no trace of himself. The rejection I experienced was so personal and deep that I cried for hours. Then came the shame, the voice in my head of what a horrible slut of a sister I am. Next were feelings of anger and jealousy. Anger and jealousy, feelings I thought I had locked away and let go. I got to taste and have what I always wanted, what I had fantasized about more times than I care to admit. I had accepted he was out of reach and always would be since my sister started dating him. Yet, that night, it was as if I had tasted the forbidden fruit and was now addicted. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his mouth felt on my pussy, the way his lips devoured me. His voice was deep and thick with lust, claiming he wanted to fuck me forever. Each night I closed my eyes, I could visualize him hovering over me, eyes locked with mine in pure bliss as he trusted into my drenched pussy over and over again. I shamefully pleasured myself to the memory of fucking him, rutting against my fingers and my vibrator barely getting relief because my body wanted him and only him. The memories and flashbacks were tortuous. I wanted it to stop but I couldn't control myself.

It had been 7 weeks since I had fucked my sister's husband, and like clockwork, my sister and Tae would come over every three days for me to take a store-bought pregnancy test. She wanted to be there with Tae each time to be part of the experience of finding out they would have a baby. No matter the results from this test today, I was scheduled for my second blood test. Every two weeks, I was to take a blood test, and every three days, a home pregnancy test. The ringtone from my sister calling broke through my thoughts. I should answer; they are probably already outside. I answer the phone, forcing a smile on my lips.

“Hey, Y/N, I hope you drank a lot of water! We are here outside, I just wanted to ensure I didn’t barge in if you were sleeping or resting. I know you need your rest.” She set alarms on my phone so I could drink water during the hour, and I was well hydrated. I wasn’t even pregnant yet, and I felt like she was smothering me. She constantly asked me about my bedtime routine, my self-care, and whether I was getting enough sleep and eating well. She gave me frequent reminders to make sure I was not having sex with anyone else at this time because she wanted to ensure Tae Hyung was the father. I felt my humanity slowly dying. 

“Yes, Adri, I drank a lot of water; come on in.” I walked towards the door and saw my sister already walking in. I regretted giving her a key. I ensured I displayed a big, friendly, happy smile, hoping my eyes did not give away my true feelings of remorse, shame, guilt, and longing. I kept my eyes on her as I gave a weak “hello” to Tae Hyung, quickly moving to hug my sister and walking towards the kitchen, I felt my gut clench in sadness hearing his soft “hi” as I walked away, not giving him any type of eyes contact. 

“I’m so excited! I know not to get our hopes up! But Y/N I’m feeling really good about this one”, I kept my eyes low, my sister and Tae Hyung taking a seat on the coach.

“Guess we will find out soon enough..” I tried to sound pleasant as I busied myself to get water. 

“Does anyone want anything to drink?” I asked being polite.

“Do you have any whiskey?” I heard the slight distress in Tae’s voice. Something was up, even more than this fucked up situation. He needed this drink, I could tell in his voice. What did he know that I was going to soon find out. 

“I do…how do you want…”

“Give it to me straight”, he cut me off. Whatever I was going to find out today must be bad based on the way he wanted his whiskey. I knew Tae Hyung well, I knew depending on the way he asked for his whisky to be prepared was how bad the information was going to be. 

I prepared his drink, my ears picking up on the whispers between Tae and Adrianna. I watched, sipping water from my glass as she gently held his cheek in her hand, stroking him with her thumb, her gazing so loving, his eyes full of what I deemed as worry. I cleared my throat, entered the living room, and placed Tae’s drink on the coffee table. I ensured that I avoided eye contact, as I do every time he enters my space. Avoiding him was always the exact opposite of what my treacherous, moral-less body and soul wanted. I wanted to drown in his beautiful chocolate-colored almond-shaped eyes, melt into his pleasing touch, and feel his lips on my skin, but it was all so wrong. I grabbed the pregnancy test out of my sister's hand and went to do my business in the bathroom, bringing the pregnancy stick back to the table. My sister was already ready with the timer. We sit silently for a moment before my sister's voice breaks me out of my anxious thoughts, my eyes set on the coffee table. I hate the deafening silence. 

“How have you been feeling today?” 

“I’m fine Adri…” my voice cracking.

“Tae, do you have any questions for Y/N?”  I keep my eyes on the table not daring to look at him.

“No..” his voice sounded as weak as mine.

“You know what? You are both adults. You guys need to act like it and get over the awkwardness. We are bringing a little human into the world who is going to depend on us. We are family and always will be. Everything is going to be fine. We will get through this.” I lift my eyes to my sister, her eyes tender, her smile warm, her hand on Tae Hyungs knee. 

“Ok. Your right Adri…your right…” I lift my eyes to Tae Hyung, his eyes were already on mine with an unreadable distance expression and a weak smile on his lips. 

The timer rings demanding our attention. Adriana leaps into action. 

“Ok, guys, come close. Let's look!” She squeals with hope she stays so positive and hopeful is beyond me. Please, God, I beg, my eyes closed; I want, I just wanted it to be over be, pregnant give my sister and Tae what they wanted and move on with my life. 

“Negative.” I heard the sadness in her voice. I was frozen, not sure which empathic statement to draw from that would be sincere and not on repeat.

“That’s ok, we still have the blood test tomorrow!” She rises from the couch with the pregnancy test kit heading to the kitchen to clean it all up. I grab my cup heading to the kitchen to grab more water. 

“Yes, we do. Don’t worry I’ll call you as soon as the email results come in and I know not to open it till you get here. 

The Blood Test Results

I avoided checking my email for the next 24 hours knowing the lab we test at is very fast. But I knew my sister knew this as well. It’s 10 pm and I finally look, and it's there. I texted my sister and let her know I’d see her and Tae tomorrow at 6 pm after I get off of work. I barely make it through the day trying to focus on my work but the dread of opening the email took most of my attention. What if I am pregnant? Then this is really happening. What if I’m still not pregnant, maybe I can't have children either. Why does Tae look so distant and worried? I couldn't keep the thoughts at bay.

When I arrived home, Adriana and Tae were already parked outside my house, my sister with takeout in her hands. They were planning on staying I wondered. She was really feeling this one. 

“How…”, I cut her off before she could finish.

“I’m fine Adri, healthy and happy just like Yesterday.” I smile the best happiest fake smile at her.

“Let’s go inside.” I walk past smiling weakly at Tae Hyung, I had to at least try to be normal as much as I could hiding the fact I have not gone one single night without pleasuring myself to the memory of him fucking me. It was as if I was a horny teenage boy. 

After settling at the dinner table with food to distract us from small talk. “Well, let's get to it,” I stand to break the awkward silence, moving to grab my phone. We count to the number of three, and all of them see our emails at the same time. There was that moment of pause where we each looked at the pregnancy hormone count. The number was too low to. I was not pregnant. I let out a breath of relief. I felt a swirl of emotions. I wanted to be done with this process. I thought there was a part of me that was relieved I was not pregnant. There was also worry. This would be the 8th week since Tae Hyung and I had slept together. I knew this was where I needed to stand my ground and gently suggest adoption for them. 

“Adri, I’m sorry…” I wanted to show my sister empathy and help her accept the idea of adopting.

“No y/n,  It’s ok. I’m fine. We are fine. Y/N…” I watch with observant eyes. My sister grabs Tae Hyung's hand in hers, his head hung low, his eyes shielded. I imagined he must have felt devastated I know how much he too wants to be a father and wants to see my sister happy. After her eyes glance at Tae Hyung looking for his gaze she turns to me.

“....Tae and I already talked about this and I just need for you guys to try again. We will book for two nights…”

“What!? Adri…you can’t be serious…” I felt my heart beat increase and my body heat.

“Y/N. Please..he only came one time inside you. He told me. I need you guys to try 2 to 3 times, I know you both…”

“Tae! Say something!!” My eye started at him in wild, frantic bewilderment. No. I can’t believe he would agree to this again. Yet nothing. He says nothing and does not lift his eyes. Yet I can see how white his knuckles are from how tightly he clenches them. 

 Tae Hyung! Fucking Look at me! Are you actually fucking ok with this!?” I could feel my body trembling and the barely-kept rage in my voice. I was nearly shouting. He kept his eyes low and cleared his throat.

“This. will be. the last time…” his voice came out low and stern, the voice of a broken, angry man as he stood and stocked outside. I felt a deep need to run after him, console him, and have him console me. But I stood there in the living room, feet planted, my eyes fixed on the man, and my heart and soul were chained to walk away. 

“Adri, I can’t do this again…I’m sorry, I can’t…” I turn to walk to the kitchen tears brimming my eyes.

“Please, understand…”, I grip the kitchen countertop. Is this the day I lost everything because I couldn't give her all she asked of me? She was the only family I had left; she was half of me and all of me simultaneously. No one knows the bond of identical twins unless you are one. I thought I would do anything for her, and I have, but I just can’t do this again. It would utterly destroy me. I entered the world with her at my side, breathed into existence with her, and I will leave this world without her love, rejected by her. I felt a sob began to build in my gut. As I listened to her movement in the living room. I could not see her from this angle, but I could feel and hear her grabbing her belongings and putting on her shoes at the door. 

“I’m sorry Adri… I just can’t…” I let the words come out in a whisper as I listened to the door open and close. I knew she was gone.

[call-sign-shark]

Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.

First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.

As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.

To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.

I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.

Shark.

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 8)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Crew & Reader-Insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: None (besides yandere behavior, but this is part 8 and you get the picture by now).

If yandere content makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this series and block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as relevant tags such as 'one piece yandere'.

Remember, you guys (at least some of you) voted! And your actions have consequences 😘

Word Count: 1,268

To say Twin-Blade leaving for a ‘mission’ was dramatic would be an understatement. He cried woefully into your shoulder, picking you up several times as though he was going to take you with him.

“—and don’t forget to eat while I’m gone! My division is the best but I know it won’t be the same with me not cooking!” Twin-Blade cried out, receiving a smattering of offended blustering for his ridiculousness. Marco shoved his head away from you with an irritated sigh.

“The sooner you leave the faster you can come back, Thatch. Quit freaking them out.”

Twin-Blade pouted, arms still firmly locked around your shoulders.

“But they haven’t said goodbye yet! Or told me how much they’ll miss me when I’m gone! How can I leave my newest sibling in such conditions?!” Twin-Blade begged. You reflexively cringed.

“Yeah… I’m not doing that. Please let go, Twin-Blade.”

He froze, eyes wide as he blinked. Slowly, he looked at you with teary eyes.

“At least call me by my name!” Twin-Blade cried out desperately.

“No.” You huffed, pressing both hands against his chest to no avail until Marco shoved his finger into Twin-Blade’s forehead and pushed.

He stumbled back with a pitiful sputter before grabbing his pack. Taking a low stance and pointing at you accusingly.

“Fine! But I want a hug when I come back! With a happy smile and everything!”

“Why? Do I get to leave when you return?” You asked dryly, receiving an irritated sigh from Marco beside you as Ace cackled.

“No! Because you’re happy to see me, damnit!” Twin-Blade huffed.

“Oh…” His face brightened for just a moment. “Then no.”

He grumbled, waving to the rest of the crew that was seeing him off with a small party to retrieve medication for Whitebeard.

“…It’s kinda weird you guys don’t have a regular supplier.” You commented as the small crew sailed off with no additional fanfare or waterworks.

“We haven’t managed to get an island under our protection that manufactures the medicine we need. And it would bring undue attention to go to a specific pharmacy not well within our territory. This is easier, though a little convoluted. It’s not like it’s rare medication.” Marco commented.

You made a noise of understanding.

“The marines have several labs hidden away for all their research and medical needs. Never been to any of them myself, though they considered sending me there when my devil fruit was discovered.” You pondered what that would have been like. You’d… never heard anything too telling about it. But considering how intense the discussion was you gathered that there was some… issues with the labs.

“…Do you even know what they planned to do with you?” Ace asked curiously. You looked at him and made a ‘so-so’ gesture.

“I got the impression that I was going to be assigned to someone specific as a partner before they started wondering if there were side effects to my devil fruit. At that point, even I wasn’t sure what it could be. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to risk anything unexpected.” You sighed. “I went through a lot of partners, but they were all kinda dicks. Before and after being exposed to my fruit. I thought that maybe a side effect was like… an over-inflated ego trip but you both have been in contact with me for some time and you’re not—well, I mean—you’re weird but still weird? Maybe it depends on the person’s psychological profile…” You shrugged.

“Dicks? Hm… did your ‘partners’ have anything else in common?” you blinked at Ace.

“Actually, yeah. They did. None of them were high ranking or especially strong, likely in case something went wrong with their power, but there was one specific thing they all had in common with their devil fruits.” You admitted.

--*--

“Commander Thatch! We’re being followed by a pirate ship!”

“Heh! Well, let’s say ‘hello’, boys!”

--*--

“They had to do with heat.”

--*--

“Is that?!”

“No way!”

“C-Commander! That’s a devil fruit!”

--*--

“A-Admiral Akainu, sir! Here’s the file you asked for!” A nervous ensign stuttered out. Akainu looked over his shoulder, cigar butt grinding between his teeth as he hissed.

“Leave.” He growled, snatching up the remarkably thin folder. Despite his temper, he kept his hand cool—or as cool as it ever was underneath his leather glove. His opposite hand however, dripped small bits of magma onto the carpet. The fire snuffed out under his heel as he threw it onto the desk.

The file fell open, papers scattering across the surface with a picture clipped to the main page.

This glasses reflected light underneath the standard marine cap, a bright beaming smile captured for the record keeping boys.

Akainu had thumbed through a copy of the file several times, keeping a close eye on any updates as they occurred. Minor injury reports, transfers, the works. But none pissed him off more than the status box stamped in red.

CAPTURED.

WHITEBEARD PIRATES, XX/XX/XXXX – [-/-/-].

STATUS: UNKNOWN, PRESUMED COMPROMISED.

At his own insistence, there was an addendum added to the file permanently.

IF FOUND, REPORT DIRECTLY TO ADMIRAL AKAINU FOR RETRIEVAL.

His cigar burned into nothing but ash on his lips as he sneered.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be back soon, my dear. And I’ll make sure it never happens again.” Akainu hissed, plucking up your picture with his melting fist clenched tight behind his back to prevent any damage. “We’ll bring real Justice to those filthy pirates. And I plan to make them scream for thinking they could corrupt you.”

He flicked his wrist, flinging molten lava against the far wall where a collage of Whitebeard Pirate bounty posters were pinned. The whole collection bursting into fire and falling to the floor in a rain of ash.

Soon.

--*--

Thatch watched as the Moby Dick came into view, their mission successful. Several months worth of medication in the hull as well as a smattering of general supplies to bulk up with just in case.

Marco promised him a party and Thatch was arriving with a whole new reason to celebrate.

The massive fruit nestled under his arm, purple spikes and green leaves poking into his clothes. He wondered if you’d know what it could do or if he’d have to look it up himself. He was hopeful you could both bond over it at the very least, though he was still on the fence about eating it. It was a big decision to make. And he’d made it this far without a devil fruit.

Who knows, maybe it did something really cool?

--*--

You looked out at the sea with a frown. You couldn’t see where it was coming from exactly, but you felt a devil fruit at the edge of your senses.

“What is it, my child?” Whitebeard asked. You had stopped rubbing Stefan and Kotatstu’s bellies, standing up straight as you shivered.

“…I-I don’t know.” Your heart stuttered in your chest as the devil fruit grew closer. Swallowing hard, you looked up at Whitebeard. “I think it’s a devil fruit? But…”

You looked back out at the sea again as Stefan whined.

“What do you sense?” he asked again, tone serious and almost worried.

“… It feels hungry. Hungry and dark. Like the shadows under your bed or at the end of a very long hall.” You replied faintly, cold sweat breaking out.

It felt like the edge of the void.

And the void was looking back at you. Reaching out with tendrils long and twisted and starving for more.