#i really love this fic. thank you for the questions. :)

[alg3a]

auspicious (pt. 2)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x reader

3k words, MDNI

description: After confronting the boys and teasing them for long enough, you finally get what you want.

warnings: nsfw content, full complete total smut, MMF threesome, f!receiving oral, double penetration, all characters are sort of switches i suppose, double creampies! hooray!

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON PART ONE!!! it was entirely unexpected, but i loved hearing that all of you enjoyed it. it was my first ever tumblr fic, but there will be plenty more and my request box is VERY open.

Something in their eyes turns dark when you utter those words. Not utter, exactly, they were more of a proclamation. Maybe it was your confidence that threw them off so intensely, but how could you not be confident in a dress like that, after two glasses of wine, and knowing that the two most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on have been wanting you for months?

It made all the late nights and restless mornings worth it to be sprawled out on their cozy lab couch wearing practically just a strip of fabric, watching them eye you like dogs.

“What is it with you two? Do I need to write you a formal invitation?”

Surprisingly, Viktor moves first. When he gets to the couch he drops his cane as if it was a crumb off his coffeecake. Then Jayce follows, filling the spot behind you as you face Viktor on the other end of the couch. Jayce’s calloused hands wrap around your waist, feeling every inch of the delicate skin exposed by your low hanging dress. Viktor’s delicate hands cup your jaw.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this,” Viktor says, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard before.

“Hey–” Jayce squeezes your hips firmly and pulls you back into his chest. His fingers trace the long slit up the side of your leg and brush the fabric to the side, exposing your thighs. “How long we have been waiting for this.”

“Did you ever talk about me–about this–with each other?” You have a million dirty questions to ask them now that you have them at your disposal, and this seems like a good place to start.

“It’s hard not to,” Jayce says. “Every time you would come into the lab in that little skirt…”

“Things as small as lingering touches when passing tools…” Viktor added, his mouth dipping low to kiss your exposed collarbone.

“Anytime you did anything vaguely exciting… let’s just say the thought of sharing you is very familiar to us.” Jayce’s low, rough voice mutters against your neck. He punctuates his sentence with a nip at the soft skin as Viktor pulls away from your clavicle.

“Would you like that?” Viktor asks, his fingers delicately wrapping a strand of your hair around his long, slim finger. “For Jayce and I to share you?”

And suddenly they’ve monopolized this interaction. So much for all that confidence–thrown out the window as soon as they show a sliver of dominance.

“Speak up,” Jayce says, grasping your chin firmly and lifting it so that your face is flush with Viktor’s.

“Yes,” you finally utter. “I’d like that very very much.”

“Good,” Viktor says, his accent thicker and his voice raspy.

His thumb traces along your jaw until his hand seats itself on the back of your neck. His fingers slide into your hair. You’d never realized how big his hands were until then, as one wrapped around the back of your head, tugging softly at your hair as Jayce rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb, pulling gently downward to part your pretty lips. They really were fantastic partners, aiding each other in research. And there you were, their perfect little assistant, providing them with something to study.

You don’t realize how heavily your heart is thudding against your ribs until Viktor’s lips are exploring yours and your heart is the loudest thing in the room, second only to your little whimper as you realize Jayce is doing some exploring of his own. His calloused fingers brush your bare thigh beneath the slit of your dress and dip between your legs as his chest presses against your back. With the hand that once rested on your chin, he pulls the apex of the slit higher, so that your lacy black panties are exposed to the cold air of the lab.

“Fuck,” Jayce mutters at the sight of them. You feel as his hardening cock twitches against your back, eliciting a moan from your mouth that vibrates against Viktor’s lips.

You whine as he pulls away from the kiss to take a look at what Jayce has discovered.

“Don’t everyone look at once,” you joke, but your breathlessness and heaving chest don’t exactly contribute to the punchline.

Viktor smiles for a moment, but his eyes drift to your shoulder. More specifically, the fallen strap of the dress which leaves your shoulder exposed.

“You’ve been in this dress all night,” Viktor says, smiling as he looks at Jayce over your shoulder. “I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable…”

“Do you often imagine how uncomfortable my clothes are, Viktor?” You ask, returning his smirk as Jayce slips the remaining strap off of your other shoulder.

“All the time,” he says, taking the next step off of Jayce’s hands and sliding the bodice off your dress downward, then letting Viktor return to pushing down the remnants of the dress so that it pools around your ankles.

“And much more, it would seem…or sound, rather.” Jayce laughs in a low tone, the vibrations of his chest against the bare skin of your back causing your stomach to flutter. “Loudest housemate ever.”

“Oh really?” You ask, mouth agape as Viktor slides off the couch with a smirk on his face, bringing your legs with him. He pivots you so that you’re sitting with your back against the cushions now, and he’s kneeling between your parted legs. Only your cute little panties separate his face from your best kept secret.

“Hearsay,” Viktor rolls his eyes as he kisses up your thigh. “And from the man who doesn’t even close his door when he thinks of you…”

“I close it. The walls are just…thin.” Jayce replies, placing his hand on your chin once more to turn your face to his. “And I can’t help how much noise I make.” His voice lowers and his eyes flutter shut, preparing for his turn with your lips.

Jayce is a much rougher kisser than Viktor. Handsier, too. His hand slides up your waist, grazing your chest, before finally landing on the expanse of your tilted back neck. If he choked you to death right now, you could die happy. But he won’t. He just squeezes gently as his tongue explores your mouth, his grip a reminder that he’s been wanting you for three long months. You can imagine how it must have felt for both of the boys to have you within arms reach, pushed away only by their own semblances of professionality. Actually–you can taste it, too. And you can feel it as two fingers press against your clothed cunt and you let a moan echo into Jayce’s persistent mouth.

Viktor lifts a leg onto his shoulder, and you feel two of his calloused fingertips pulling aside the lace of your panties. With only the tip of Viktor’s tongue, you’re a whining mess against Jayce’s. Jayce pulls away from you with a condescending laugh, wanting to catch a glimpse of Viktor’s meal.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “I never thought my lab partner and I would have our tongues on the same girl at the same time.”

“Don’t lie,” Viktor looks up, a grin on his glistening lips. “I’ve heard my name through those thin walls, too.”

“Shut up,” Jayce groans, and guides Viktor’s head back to your cunt. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to utter, miraculously. You’d heard Jayce tease Viktor time after time about his inexperience with women. You’d be surprised that Viktor was this good at eating you out if you weren’t familiar with what a meticulous learner Viktor was. A true perfectionist.

As Viktor sucks on your clit, Jayce lowers his head and sucks marks onto your neck, one hand still on Viktor’s head, feeding you to him.

“Please…” you whimper, not sure exactly what you’re even asking for until you feel your impending release.

Viktor laughs against your core. “Please what, my love?”

“Please, I’m gonna… mmph! I–” The leg that rests on Viktor’s back bends so that he’s pulled closer.

“Don’t stop, Vik, she’s close.” Jayce’s grip on your jaw tightens and he pulls you ever so slightly downward to watch Viktor. “Is that right, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You nod emphatically, opening your lips but fuck it’s so incredibly difficult for you to form words when there isn’t an adjective on the planet that can describe how he’s making you feel. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum, please, please don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” Jayce says, his grip loosening as he goes in to kiss you again while your climax hits you like a tidal wave. Jayce feels the impact of it against his mouth in the form of your own, needy, whimpering moans.

Your legs begin to shake, but Viktor’s hands wrap around your thighs, holding you still as he shows no signs of stopping. He’s going to grant your begging wishes and ride this out with you, his tongue dancing along your clit, his fingers spreading you wide so it’s certain he won’t miss a spot.

Once you’ve settled, Viktor pulls away, wiping the arousal from his lips with the back of his hand. You’ve seen him exhausted, aching, and messy, but you’ve never seen him with such a powerful glint of desperation in his eyes.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart?” Jayce asks, his fingers combing through your hair.

Viktor seats himself on the couch again, drawn to your collarbone again, this time using his fingers to navigate the delicate clavicle.

You nod, but it takes every ounce of effort you have to lift your head up repeatedly.

“We’re not done with you just yet,” Jayce says, getting up off of the couch, “if that’s alright with you.”

The request is almost rhetorical. Of course it’s alright with you. He knows that. If the wanton, needy little noises you were still making in agreement were any sign of the pleasure you derived from this arrangement, you could go on until morning.

“Viktor, take your pants off,” Jayce demands, standing over the two of you.

“Who decided you’d be calling the shots for tonight?” Viktor asked, breathlessly, raising one eyebrow.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll gladly take your pla–”

Viktor rushed to take his pants off. You helped him with the belt buckle and in sliding them down his legs. As you do, Jayce fully removes your panties. It doesn’t make much of a difference, now that the two men have seen every inch of you.

As Viktor’s pants come off, you see the impressive imprint of his cock underneath his boxers.

“Can I?” You ask gently, lowering your hand to hover over his cock.

“We’re past that,” Viktor says, grinning as he takes your hand and guides it to his length. You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pull them downward so that they pool at his thighs.

Wow.

You’d always sort of assumed that since Viktor was so skinny that he couldn’t be hiding much. How wrong you were. Your lips part slightly, already salivating for him. You begin to stroke his cock, ready for him to push your head onto his shaft until you can’t breathe, but you hear a tongue clicking behind you.

“No need for that,” Jayce says. “I think we’ll save that treat for the workday. For now…”

Jayce’s strong hands find their grip on your waist on your right leg, pulling you to straddle Viktor’s lap.

“I don’t think either of us can wait any longer for this,” you look back at Jayce as he speaks, watching as he unbuckles his own belt and shed his pants along with his dress shirt.

Now this one, you expected. With the amount of female “advisors” you’ve seen watching Jayce in the forge, there’s no way he wasn’t packing.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Viktor says, his hands falling at either side of your waist and lining you up with the wet tip of his cock, already ruined with precum.

“I should start preparing you back here…” Jayce says as his large hands find purchase on the round of your ass.

“Are you ready, my love?” Viktor asks with a kiss to your wrist as he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, swiping it a few times to ensure you’re wet enough for his entry. You’re beyond wet enough. “It would seem you are…” He laughs as he pushes your hips down on him.

Even though you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Viktor’s cock since you took it out, the size still surprised you as he pressed into your wet cunt.

“Fuck…” Viktor groaned as his neck fell back against the couch cushions. “You feel…even better than I imagined.”

You can’t even form a sentence to reply. The stretch is so intense you’ve forgotten every word in the English language. You can’t even move, paralyzed on his length. Luckily, Viktor solves that problem for you, thrusting up into you suddenly, so that all you can do is let out a strained squeal. Your hands grip his shoulders but you can’t even worry about how your nails might be hurting him, although if his grin is any consolation, he might even be enjoying the pain.

Jayce trails a line of kisses down your spine and when you look back, he’s kneeling on the ground, spitting on two fingers. You barely have time to process what that might mean before those two fingers plunge into your unfilled hole.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, the first word that you can remember in these trying times. The pain lasts only a second before the feeling sends flutters into your stomach, and elsewhere. With renewed vigor, you begin to let yourself bounce on Viktor’s cock, eliciting a lovely little whine from him.

“Tell me how he feels, baby,” Jayce says, removing his two fingers.

“So…so good.”

“I know you can be more descriptive than that,” Jayce laughs as he gets up to stand, wiping some spit onto his plump tip and stroking it.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…” you say, the truest sentence in your head the first full one you can form. “So long… it’s so long…” Okay, back to putting the “senseless” in “fucked senseless.”

The boys laugh, but Viktor’s is a strained, breathless laugh.

“Please Jayce…” you beg, looking back at him over your arched back. “I want both of you…”

“Whatever you say,” Jayce says with a crooked grin as he wraps his hands around your waist, just above Viktor’s, who finds it in him to stop you from bouncing to allow Jayce his entry.

With a full, unexpected thrust, Jayce is completely in you. The stretch burns like Hell at first, but God you’ve never felt so full before.

Jayce lets out a desperate groan, not moving for a few more seconds. When Viktor thrusts into you, Jayce reacts with a moan.

“Fuck, I can…I can feel your cock, Vik,” Jayce says, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Lucky you,” Viktor laughs as he continues to lift his hips to meet your cervix.

With a dismissive scoff, Jayce finally finds the will to thrust again, even if it just results in more wanton, wasted little moans from his mouth: noises you didn’t even think he could make.

With both of them inside you at once, thrusts alternating and hitting spots within you that make you scream their names, it won’t be long until your second orgasm of the night.

Jayce’s hand reaches for your hair, taking a cluster of it and pulling you so that your back arches and your shoulders are flush with his. He cheeks your cheek with a contrasting delicateness and whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for us. Isn’t she the best, Vik?”

“Better than our hands, absolutely,” Viktor jokes as his chest heaves and his forehead contorts. He’s close, you can tell.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jayce says, releasing your hair and focusing all of his efforts onto your tight little hole, stretching you impossibly wide.

“I-I don’t think I can take much more,” Viktor utters.

“Me neither,” you whimper, pressing your head into the nook between Viktor’s head and shoulder. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum for us, baby,” Jayce says, squeezing your ass cheeks as his last few thrusts are used up. It’s not long before you feel his cock twitching, sending spurts of hot cum into your bottom. “Gods! Fuck, baby!”

The sight of the two of you losing your composure above Viktor is enough to send him over, and as you fall onto the full length of his cock after riding out your own orgasm, he pumps you full of his seed as well, whimpering like a wounded puppy as he ruts into you helplessly one final time. You’re all a pile of spent, sweaty, fucked out messes.

Jayce reluctantly pulls out of you, leaving a splatter of cum falling from your hole onto Viktor’s lap.

“Sorry,” he laughs as he collides with the couch beside Viktor.

You try to pull off Viktor's cock to provide him some relaxation, but he holds you still. “Please, don’t…don’t move yet. I want this to last as long as possible.”

“Feeling sentimental, Vik?” Jayce teases, running a hand through his lab partner’s sweaty hair.

“Feeling…like I’d like to memorize this feeling before I go to bed tonight.”

You laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose before resting your head on Jayce’s neighboring shoulder. “I should’ve put ‘handling two cocks’ on my resume. Maybe then you two would have actually read it.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to list us as references on future resumes,” Jayce laughs, rubbing your hand softly as the three of you come down from your shared highs. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight. To the gala, I mean.”

You and Viktor both laugh.

“Next time, you won’t have to deal with crude men asking you to dance,” Viktor says as he kisses the top of your head. “You’ll be busy at our side the whole night.”

“I’m never going to move past the pretty little lab assistant allegations, am I?” You smiled into Jayce’s sturdy, shuddering shoulder.

“Maybe not,” Viktor said. “But why should you? You are our beautiful little lab assistant.”

@jeromeslilhoe @justaproudslytherpuff @onyxistired @sseleniaa @clearlycaffeinated-blog @darknessbyme @shoyofroyoyoyo

(pretty much just tagged everyone that commented asking for part two)

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi.. love your desi f1 fics.. can you write something like lando dating desi reader and then just turning into national jiu (like Nick Jonas) so.. everyone keeps commenting on his post about being jiju and all.. and then one day, during media day, journalist asks him if he knows what jiju is.. and why is that relevant.. and lando goes all giggly and is like "jiju is brother in law" and is just happy to have nations love and support.. and the grid teases him and all cute stuff.. love your work..

National Jijaji ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

⌗ ln x desi!reader

⌗ smau

masterlist ☾☼

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

yourusername

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 190,382 others

yourusername THEY FUCKING DID IT OH MY GOF IM SO PROUD OF THESE TWINKS

view all 127,036 comments

landonorris PAPAYA ON TOP

oscarpiastri WE ARE THE CHAMPIONES

user1 she was soooo happy at the celebrations it was so nice to watch

user2 righttt fav wag of all time fr

user3 jijaji jeet gaye ‼️jijaji jeet gaye ‼️

user4 mithai baato koi humare jijaji jeet gaye!

user5 you'd think with a rich boyfriend she'd at least have a good camera quality 😂😂😂😂

yourusername sorry my rich boyfriend drenched my phone in champagne because HE FUCKING WONNNNN WOOHOOOO

user6 papaya on top ❌ jijaji on top ✅

yourusername on top of me? HELL YEAH

user7 KOI INKI MUMMY KO BULAO

yourusername NO THANK YOU NO JIJAJI ON TOP OF ME TONIGHT

landonorris 🥺🥺 but i wanna be

user6 do they know we can read all of this?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 93,019 others

lando.jpg system reboot

view all 46,113 comments

youruserame told you we should do a full country trip

landonorris excuse you??? i made the plans???

yourusername jo tera voh mera 😘

user9 jijaji roaming india is a need

user10 only lando can post the most beautiful pictures of his girlfriend and his girlfriend's country and then post a goofy picture of himself

lando.jpg what can i do my girlfriend's just so pretty

yourusername what did you do

lando.jpg I DIDNT DO ANYTHING I WAS GIVING A COMPLIMENT

user11 its such a desi thing to question someone saying something nice to you 😂😂😂

maxverstappen1 this looks beautiful man

lando.jpg IT REALLY IS WE WENT TO SO MANY PLACES

carlossainz55 all i wanna know if youre getting me those swirly round sweets

yourusername dw gonna get you your jalebi soon

user13 IT IS CONFIRMED CARLOS SAINZ LIKES JALEBI

user14 its fitting that jijaji is travelling through his new permanent home

user15 monaco? what's that? place doesnt exist anymore

yourusername i wish i could convince him to settle in india with me 😔

lando.jpg if your grandma keeping making me those laddoos, i might just consider it

user13 absolutely love how y/n's family have fully considered lando as their son in law

user14 THATS WHY HE'S JIJU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

yourusername

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 509,247 others

yourusername i miss when my account wasnt a lando norris fanpage IN OTHER NEWS FIRST PODIUM OF THE SEASON BABY LFGGGGG

view all 90,148 comments

landonorris dont lie you love me

yourusername i love YOU not you taking over my account

landonorris same thing

mclaren so happy to see you in the paddock!

user15 JIJAJI ON PODIUM FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 2025

user16 JIJU WDC INCOMING

user17 LANDO JIJU STOP FLIPPING OFF YOUR WIFE

user18 whats with the scrunch 😂😂

user19 why is he flipping off his own girlfriend while hugging his dad 😭😭😭

yourusername i told him that i was a fan of charles anyway

charlesleclerc thats a good choice

landonorris fuck off shes mine

yourusername i can be your girlfriend and be a fan of someone else

landonorris baby my blood pressure is rising can you not?

yourusername oh nooooooo (im still a charles fan)

charlesleclerc ill get you ferrari paddock passes for the next race

landonorris 🖕🖕🖕

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

f1gossip

liked by user18, user12 and 3,910,572 others

f1gossip lando recently met a fan in india while at the gym, who approached him and called him "jiju". his girlfriend was reportedly also there, and laughed at the interaction.

view all 2,195,932 comments

user20 WHICH GYM DOES JIJAJI GO TO??? I'D LIKE A MEMBERSHIP OF THAT PLEASE

user21 this fan is out here living the life of every indian lando fan

user23 she really called him jiju 😭 and y/n really laughed at that 😭

user24 yall lets not forget the real og jiju of india: nick jonas

user25 we can have two jijus! we need more jijus!

user26 yknow if they get married... and we do the juta churai... i think we'd become rich and lando would become bankrupt...

user27 why do you want lando to become bankrupt 😭😭😭

user26 thats what a jiju does! becomes bankrupt at weddings for his own shoes

user28 WHAT?

user29 ghar aao please

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 590,112 others

landonorris mustaaaaaaaaaaaard

view all 275,008 comments

yourusername LFFGGGGGGG BOY

yourusername MY MAN ON THE TOP STEP FUCK YEAHHHH

yourusername PAPAYA 1-2 LFFGGGGGGGG

yourusername i think my throat is sore from screaming too much

user24 real

user24 JIJU 2025 WDC LFFGGGGG

user23 nazar lag jaayegi 😭

user24 oh fuck nvm i didnt say anything

user22 so proud of jijaji 🫶🏻

user25 good job, lando! amazing drive! 🧡

user26 lando's only fast cause of the car he doesnt have the talent

user25 but its a motorsport? its a sport about the car being fast?

user26 so? doesn't matter

user25 wow. ok.

user27 jijaji jeet gaye phir se ‼️

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

mclaren

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 942,065 others

mclaren can you guess who lando is looking at? 🤔

view all 891,553 comments

georgerussell jijaji

maxverstappen1 jijaji

oscarpiastri jijaji

carlossainz55 jijaji

charlesleclerc jijaji

lewishamilton jijaji

alex_albon jijaji

yukitsunoda jijaji

francocolapinto jijaji

yourusername NO YOURE ALL WRONG! HE'S YOUR BROTHER, IM THE SISTER IN LAW! HE'S NOT YOUR JIJAJI!

user29 ...is this confirmation that theyre married????

user30 love how everyone is ignoring admin's question because everyone knows the answer anyways

user31 JIJAJI FOR THE WIN LFFGGGGG

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

i hope you enjoy this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :) taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[leeknot]

Hello i love your fics may I please have a request of skz ot7 jealous of jeongin girlfriend who's younger than jeongin and she's really smart and really beautiful but also an amazing loyal girlfriend to jeongin even though it's her first relationship and she takes care of all of them like always cooking and cleaning up after them and she is close to and has a bond with each of them and they each get a little possessive even though she isn't theirs and if you are comfortable make it a smutty and jeongin is fine with sharing

Eight Boys, One Girl

A/N : Haiii :3 Thank you so much for requesting this @babygirlskz98!! I'm really glad that you love my fics <33 I really had fun writing this and I hope it turned out the way you imagined it :))

---

Pairing : skz OT8 × reader

Warnings : smut

MDNI

---

Jeongin walked into the shared dorm room, his heart fluttering with excitement as he anticipated his girlfriend,Y/N's welcoming presence. At nineteen, she was his first love, and her beauty, intellect, and nurturing spirit never ceased to amaze him.

"Hey baby!" he heard her sweet voice call out from the kitchen. The rich aroma of homemade kimchi fried rice filled the air, making his stomach growl.

Jeongin grinned broadly as he sauntered into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Y/N's petite waist from behind. She leaned into his embrace, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she continued stirring the fried rice.

"Mmm, it smells incredible in here." Jeongin praised, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. He loved how she always took care of them, cooking and cleaning without ever complaining.

As if on cue, the other Stray Kids members began filtering into the kitchen, drawn by the tantalizing aroma. Seungmin was the first to approach, his eyes lingering on Y/N with an unusual intensity. "Y/N-ah, you've outdone yourself again,"

Seungmin complemented, sneakily inching closer to her side. Hyunjin flashed a cheeky grin, playfully stealing a piece of fried rice straight from the pan. "Tastes even better than it smells!" he declared with gusto.

While they all gathered around the food, BangChan couldn't help but add, "No wonder we put up with living in such a messy dorm. At least we have a queen who keeps us fed and clean." He winked at Y/N, causing Jeongin to subtly tense up.

Lee Know, ever the observant one, noticed the flicker of jealousy in Jeongin's eyes. He decided to poke the bear, leaning against the counter beside Y/N and casually draping his arm around her shoulders. "Y/N's so smart too, you know." Lee Know remarked,

Jeongin felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him as Lee Know casually leaned in close to his girlfriend. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white. But before he could intervene, Felix sidled up to Y/N's other side, his golden eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Y/N, can I ask you a question?" Felix asked innocently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Y/N turned to face him, only to find Felix's face inches from hers. "Who's your favorite member?"

The room fell silent as all the members awaited Y/N's answer. Jeongin's jaw clenched, his eyes darting between Felix and Y/N. Chan,Minho,Changbin,Hyunjin,Han,Jeongin and Seungmin all looked at her expectantly.

"Well..." Y/N smiled shyly, knowing she had them all in the palm of her hand. Her gaze slowly swept across each of their faces, leaving them on tenterhooks. Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat as she finally spoke "You know what?"

All the members leaned in closer, hanging on Y/N's every word. Her smile widened as she saw how desperately they wanted her favor. "Each of you is special to me in your own way," Y/N announced serenely, "So it's impossible to choose just one favorite. But,"

She paused for dramatic effect, the room holding its breath. "If I really had to pick, I suppose it would be... the one who's been the most protective and caring towards me." Y/N's gaze locked onto Jeongin's, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Jeongin's eyes widened momentarily as Y/N's praise washed over him, a mix of pride and relief washing through his veins. The tension visibly drained from his shoulders as he pulled her more firmly against his chest, basking in this public affirmation of her affection.

As Jeongin clung to Y/N possessively, the air in the kitchen seemed to thicken, charged with a sudden undercurrent of sensual tension. Hyunjin was the first to break the charged silence, his voice a low, playful rumble.

"You know, Y/N," Hyunjin purred, his eyes roaming over her possessively, "Jeongin might be your favorite, but what about the rest of us?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing the other six members to start closing in on Y/N.

Changbin stepped forward, his hand reaching out to stroke Y/N's hair, his warm fingers tangling in the soft strands. "We can't just let Jeongin have all the fun." he said with a smirk, his eyes flicking to Han, who was already undoing Y/N's shirt buttons.

As Han's cold hands pushed Y/N's shirt off her shoulders, revealing her bare collarbone, Felix stepped in, his lips finding the exposed skin and placing gentle kisses there. He looked up at Y/N with lust-filled eyes, "She always smells so good..."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as all 8 men surrounded her, their touches gentle yet possessive. Her cheeks flushed red as she whispered, "Are we really..." Her voice trailed off, a mix of excitement and nerves evident in her tone. "All of you?"

"Every. Last. One." Chan growled playfully, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, sending sparks of excitement through your body.

Hyunjin slid behind Y/N, his hands cupping her breasts as he murmured huskily in her ear. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Changbin knelt, hands stroking up her thighs while peering at her under hooded lids.

Seungmin, watching the escalating lust with glittering eyes, reached out and began slowly stroking Y/N's hair, tilting her head back. "Just relax and let us worship you." he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss.

Jeongin, who had been quietly observing from the side, finally stepped forward. His usually playful expression was replaced with a serious, almost predatory gaze. He slowly unbuttoned his own shirt, revealing his chiseled chest. "Turn around,"

"Turn around, precious," Jeongin commanded softly, his voice carrying an unexpected dominance. "I want you to see what you do to us... how badly we all want you." As Y/N slowly turned, he ran his fingertips down her spine, making her shiver.

All eight of them stood in a semicircle around Y/N, their eyes dark with desire as they slowly began removing their clothing, revealing perfect, toned bodies - each unique yet equally captivating. Jeongin's fingers continued tracing patterns on Y/N's back as he pressed closer.

Jeongin's warm breath tickled Y/N's neck as he whispered, "Now, sit on the bed." As Y/N sat, the other seven men slowly approached, surrounding her like predators. Chan knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees.

Chan slowly spread Y/N's thighs, revealing her to the hungry gaze of the seven men surrounding her. Hyunjin knelt beside Chan, his fingers tracing up Y/N's inner thigh. Seungmin stood behind her, his hands resting on her waist.

Minho stood on the other side of the bed, his eyes locked on Y/N's face as he stroked his hard length. Hyunjin, the tallest of the group, loomed over Y/N, his large hands resting on the bed on either side of her head.

Hyunjin leaned down, his face inches from Y/N's, his warm breath fanning over her lips as he spoke in a low, rumbling voice. "We're going to take you together, precious. Every inch of you, filled to the brim with our cocks."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jeongin pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "And we're not going to be gentle." he murmured, his hand reaching out to tangle in her hair.

Seungmin, watching the escalating lust with glittering eyes, reached out and began slowly stroking Y/N's hair, tilting her head back. "Just relax and let us worship you." he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss.

Jeongin, who had been quietly observing from the side, finally stepped forward. His usually playful expression was replaced with a serious, almost predatory gaze. He slowly unbuttoned his own shirt, revealing his chiseled chest. "Turn around,"

"Turn around, precious," Jeongin commanded softly, his voice carrying an unexpected dominance. "I want you to see what you do to us... how badly we all want you." As Y/N slowly turned, he ran his fingertips down her spine, making her shiver.

All eight of them stood in a semicircle around Y/N, their eyes dark with desire as they slowly began removing their clothing, revealing perfect, toned bodies - each unique yet equally captivating. Jeongin's fingers continued tracing patterns on Y/N's back as he pressed closer.

Jeongin's warm breath tickled Y/N's neck as he whispered, "Now, sit on the bed." As Y/N sat, the other seven men slowly approached, surrounding her like predators. Chan knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees.

Chan slowly spread Y/N's thighs, revealing her to the hungry gaze of the seven men surrounding her. Hyunjin knelt beside Chan, his fingers tracing up Y/N's inner thigh. Seungmin stood behind her, his hands resting on her waist.

Minho stood on the other side of the bed, his eyes locked on Y/N's face as he stroked his hard length. Hyunjin, the tallest of the group, loomed over Y/N, his large hands resting on the bed on either side of her head.

Hyunjin leaned down, his face inches from Y/N's, his warm breath fanning over her lips as he spoke in a low, rumbling voice. "We're going to take you together, precious. Every inch of you, filled to the brim with our cocks."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jeongin pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "And we're not going to be gentle," he murmured, his hand reaching out to tangle in her hair.

With a firm tug, Jeongin pulled Y/N's head back, forcing her to look up at the eight men surrounding her. Chan and Felix both pushed two fingers inside her, stretching her tight pussy as Changbin notched the head of his thick cock against her entrance.

"We're going to fill every hole, precious," Changbin said, his voice low and husky as he began to slowly push inside her. Y/N gasped, her fingers digging into the sheets beneath her. Seungmin leaned down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard.

While Changbin established a steady rhythm, Felix replaced his fingers with his tongue, swirling around her sensitive clit. At the same time, Minho brought his cock to her lips. "Open up, love." he whispered, guiding himself between her lips as Hyunjin watched with heated eyes.

While Changbin continued setting a steady rhythm, Felix maintained his attention on her clit, earning whimpers from Y/N. Han and Seungmin kept their teasing ministrations on her breasts, while Minho gently thrust into her mouth. Jeongin, still holding her hair, whispered in her ear...

"- such a good girl, taking us all..." Jeongin's free hand trailed down to her throat, feeling the vibrations as Minho slowly fucked her mouth While Changbin established a steady pace, Felix's tongue and fingers expertly worked her clit and entrance. "Ready, precious?"

Changbin eased out of her pussy, making way for Felix who pressed his length against her entrance. "Don't worry, love, we'll take care of you." Felix whispered, slowly pushing in while Hyunjin repositioned himself between her thighs to replace Felix's tongue.

Y/N let out a muffled moan around Minho's cock as Felix bottomed out inside her. The feeling of being so full had her eyes rolling back. Seungmin and Han shifted, each lifting one of her legs over their shoulders, opening her up even more for the guys.

Hyunjin lapped at her inner thighs as Jeongin guided Minho's hand to her throat, allowing him to wrap his fingers gently around it. Changbin repositioned himself between her breasts, pressing them together around his length. "Look at me."

Y/N gazed up at Changbin with lust-darkened eyes as he slid his cock between her pressed-together breasts, grunting softly at the slick friction. Seungmin teased her nipple with his tongue while Han pinched the other, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her core.

The guys picked up their pace, fucking and sucking her relentlessly. Felix slammed into her g-spot, causing her to scream around Minho's cock. Changbin's thrusts became erratic as he neared his climax, his cock twitching between her breasts. "Fuck, I'm gonna-!"

Changbin roared, finding his release between her breasts as Felix and Seungmin found their release inside her and on her stomach. Hyunjin lapped up the combined releases as Han and Jeongin guided Minho to finish in her mouth, choking her slightly with his large release.

"Good girl." Minho praised as he pulled out, trailing a string of cum down her chin "Look how beautiful you are like this," Jeongin whispered, wiping the cum from her face gently "Are you okay, precious?" Felix checked in, kissing her temple sweetly.

"More than okay... though I might not be able to walk straight tomorrow," she managed a weak, satisfied smile, her body still trembling with aftershocks "Good," Chan chuckled, wiping cum from between her breasts "That means we did our job right."

The guys took turns holding and cuddling her, each marking her with their scents again. She fell asleep sandwiched between Felix and Jeongin, their arms wrapped around her protectively. As the sun rose, they all woke up entangled, smiling softly at each other.

"You know, I think we should talk," Felix suggested, sitting up and looking at the group huddled together "We're all obviously very close, and not just physically," He looked at Jeongin "Jeongin, you are her boyfriend, but now..."

Jeongin sighed and then smiled slightly, pulling Y/N closer to him. "It's okay, everyone. I've realized that what's most important is Y/N's happiness, and she clearly finds joy with all of you too. If that means sharing her, well..."

"We're all in this together now?" Han finished, looking around at the group with a hopeful expression. The other guys nodded in agreement, Seungmin speaking up. "We'll all be her boyfriends, officially. No more sneaking around or hiding our feelings."

Jeongin chuckled and then smiled warmly at Y/N. "I'm fine with it, as long as you're happy, my love. I'll just have to get used to sharing you with these idiots." He joked, playfully poking the others.

"Hehe, we'll all share her equally," Felix suggested, "No favoritism, no jealousy." Heungmin nodded in agreement, "And we'll all live together too, right?"

"I love you all so much," Y/N spoke softly, her voice still sleepy from the night's activities "I never intended for this to happen, but... I can't imagine being without any of you now. Are you sure you're all okay sharing?"

"More than okay," Jeongin replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "We've talked about it, and we're all in agreement. We want to be with you, together. No more sneaking around or keeping secrets."

"Yeah, and if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to us," Han added, his arm wrapping possessively around Y/N's waist. "You're ours now, officially. Our girlfriend, our everything."

And just like that, their unconventional relationship was official. Y/N was now the shared girlfriend of eight loving and possessive men, and they were her devoted boyfriends in every sense of the word.

---

[goldenxshine]

Hiii! I was wondering if you could do a modern au fic where aegon is divorcing his ex wife bc she would neglect their kids which almost resulted in the death of jaherys. But aegon soon finds reader who is his personal assistant and she is just so sweet and loving to his kids and is really the maternal figure they need in their lives and also takes care of aegon’s health and well-being. Over some time he falls for her and her for him and immediately when aegon tells the kids that they’re dating they start begging to call her mummy

₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧ Finding home ₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧

aegon ii targaryen x f!reader

Summary: Aegon Targaryen II, after a painful divorce, finds comfort in his assistant, Y/N, who becomes a mother figure to his children. As they start dating, the kids eagerly call her "Mommy," and with Y/N’s care, Aegon’s family begins to heal.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Aegon Targaryen II sat in his lawyer’s office, his head in his hands. The weight of the past year bore down on him like a dragon’s flame, searing his soul.

The papers in front of him—a finalized divorce from his ex-wife, Lila—felt both like a relief and a failure. He never imagined he’d be here, fighting for custody of his children after Lila’s negligence nearly cost him their lives.

His thoughts were particularly consumed by his eldest son, Jaehaerys. It had been six months since the accident—a near-drowning at a pool party where Lila had disappeared for hours, leaving the children unattended.

Jaehaerys was still haunted by the memory, and his younger sister, Jaehaera, often woke up crying in the middle of the night.

Aegon blamed himself. He’d been too distracted, too absorbed in the world of business, too content with his own indulgences to notice how far Lila had drifted from her responsibilities as a mother.

It wasn’t until the accident that he realized how much his children needed someone who would love and protect them unconditionally.

That someone, he vowed, would never be Lila again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N L/N adjusted her glasses as she carried a tray of coffee into Aegon’s office.

She had worked as his personal assistant for the past year and a half, and while she initially thought the job would be all emails and schedules, she soon found herself stepping into a much more personal role.

Aegon’s life was chaos, and she had become the one constant keeping it from falling apart.

“Your 2 p.m. meeting with the board is confirmed,” Y/N said as she set the coffee on his desk. “And the kids’ school called—they need someone to chaperone the field trip next week. I put your name down just in case, but let me know if you want me to handle it.”

Aegon looked up at her, his violet eyes cold and distant, his posture slumped as though the weight of everything pressed on him all at once.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll take care of it. I don’t know why you’re always doing so much for me. It's just part of your job, right?”

Y/N smiled, but there was a hint of concern in her expression. “It’s not just my job to keep things running smoothly for you, Aegon. I want to help. You’re doing a lot more than you think.”

He grunted, uncomfortable with the sentiment. For the past year, Y/N had been the one person he could rely on without questioning her motives.

She had kept the household running, ensured that Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were always taken care of, and yet, Aegon never truly let himself see how much he depended on her.

He didn’t want to be vulnerable, not after everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N wasn’t sure when it happened. At first, she was just his assistant, a professional working in a chaotic, emotionally distant environment.

Aegon didn’t open up easily, and when he did, it was often shrouded in bitterness. He would show up late, distracted, often late for meetings or with his mind clearly elsewhere.

But she began noticing the small signs—the way his shoulders would relax when she offered him a cup of tea, the way he leaned into her words when she gave him advice, even how he softened around the kids.

Aegon Targaryen wasn’t a man who was used to being taken care of. His divorce had left him a hollow shell, focusing on work and ignoring the gaping hole in his life. But Y/N’s warmth and presence had a way of cutting through that coldness. It was disarming, and she couldn’t help but feel a deep sympathy for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Aegon found himself sitting on the couch with Y/N while the kids watched a movie. Jaehaerys had fallen asleep with his head on Y/N’s lap, and Jaehaera was curled up beside her, clutching her hand.

“Y/N,” Aegon said, his voice quiet, strained, but not with the usual indifference. It was as if he had to remind himself to speak. “You’ve done more for them than I ever could. I didn’t even realize how much they needed someone until I saw you with them.”

Y/N glanced up from the children, her expression softening. “They just need someone who’s there, Aegon. They’ve been through a lot.”

He met her eyes for a long moment, his face hard but somehow… softer than usual. “I’m not good at this. At any of this. I was a lousy husband, a worse father, and now… I just want to fix it. For them. For me.”

Her heart clenched. She could see the pain in his eyes, the weight of everything he’d lost, and yet he still fought for his children, still tried in the only way he knew how.

Y/N placed a gentle hand on his, but he pulled away quickly, as if startled by the intimacy.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Aegon,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to fix everything. Sometimes, things get fixed just by being there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Weeks passed, and Aegon began to realize how much he needed Y/N—not just in terms of work, but in his personal life. She was always there for the kids, always there for him, with a kind word, a thoughtful gesture.

She wasn’t like the others in his life, who only wanted something from him. Y/N never expected anything in return. She just gave, endlessly.

It was late one evening, when the kids were asleep, that Aegon found himself in the kitchen, his gaze lingering on Y/N.

She was rinsing dishes, humming softly to herself, and Aegon could hear the comforting rhythm of her movements. It was absurd, really. He was the future of a dynasty, but in that moment, all he could think about was how Y/N made him feel… like maybe he wasn’t so alone anymore.

He cleared his throat, and she turned toward him. “Y/N… I—” He stopped himself, his voice dropping.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve done more than I ever could have imagined. But I… I don’t want to keep pretending that this is just business. That it’s just about the kids or the company. It’s not, and I think you know that. It’s more. I want it to be more.”

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She simply stepped closer, her gaze steady, and placed her hand on his cheek, as though to steady him.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Aegon,” she whispered. “I think I’ve known for a while.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The following weekend, Aegon decided it was time to tell the kids. As they sat around the dining table, their plates half-empty, he cleared his throat. Jaehaerys was picking at his food, his usual brooding expression on his face, while Jaehaera busied herself with her toy.

“Jaehaerys, Jaehaera,” Aegon began, his voice low but resolute, “I want to talk to you about something. Y/N and I… we’re dating.”

The kids stopped immediately, their attention snapping to him. For a long moment, there was silence, and Aegon could feel the tension rise.

Then, without missing a beat, Jaehaerys looked at Aegon with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“Does that mean we can call her Mommy?” Jaehaerys asked in a tone that was a little too casual, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Aegon froze, his heart lurching in his chest. Y/N’s eyes widened, and she looked at Aegon nervously, waiting for his response.

Jaehaera chimed in, her voice a little too enthusiastic. “Mommy!” she repeated, giggling.

Aegon’s lips twitched into a half-smile, one he rarely allowed himself to express. “If it’s okay with her,” he said, his voice a little more uncertain than he would have liked.

Y/N smiled, her eyes filling with emotion. “I would love that,” she whispered, her voice thick with sentiment. “If you’re okay with it.”

And in that moment, Aegon knew that his life had changed. For the first time in a long while, it felt like things could be… okay. Maybe even good.

He wasn’t sure where this path would lead, but with Y/N by his side, and with the kids by his side, he could finally begin to heal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Over time, Y/N continued to prove herself as the rock Aegon had always needed. She cared for the kids with the tenderness of someone who had always been their mother, even though she wasn’t.

She helped Jaehaerys regain his trust in the world, and she encouraged Jaehaera to open up about her fears. Aegon, too, began to change. His attitude softened. He took better care of himself. He even started to show up for his kids in ways he hadn’t before, inspired by Y/N’s steadfast love and patience.

One evening, as he watched Y/N help the kids with their toys, Aegon realized he had found something precious. Not just love, but a family. His heart swelled with a quiet pride, knowing he had found a partner who could be the mother his children needed. And for once, Aegon Targaryen didn’t feel alone.

Because in Y/N, he had found not just a companion, but a home.

[darksigns-exe]

a prayer to venus - noah sebastian x ofc

warnings: panic attacks, questioning of gender, dysphoria, swearing, handjobs (m receiving), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected intercourse

word count: 21k

note: hi! this is a big boy so i'll keep things brief. special thanks to @deathblacksmoke, @circle-with-me, @sitkowski and @baddestomens <3 thank you for your help with this one.

as this is a very long fic there is a chance that i may have missed a warning. if you do find something that you think should be added please let me know <3

masterlist | taglist sign-up

Watching Maya get ready even though they have nowhere to go quickly becomes Noah’s favourite pastime. She’s humming along to the song playing in the background, not really paying attention to him. He knows that she likes the routine of it. Having a little bit of structure would probably do him good too. Noah’s had so much time to think that he’s starting to get sick of the inside of his own head. 

And it’s only been two weeks with no end in sight. 

The one good thing about this is that he gets to spend as much time with his girlfriend as he wants. Although, he’s sure that Maya will eventually get a little tired of him hanging around like this all the time. Sure, he’s doing his own things. But this will be the most time they’ll have together without a break since they’ve gotten together about two years ago, and he really doesn’t want her to get tired of him. 

He’s been so distracted that he hasn't noticed that Maya had long finished getting ready. 

“We have a problem.” she says, sounding so very displeased. 

Noah snaps out of his thoughts then, “What’s up?”

“Does the internet work on your phone?” 

He checks and – nothing. 

“Again?” 

Noah tries not to sound as frustrated as he feels. This is maybe the fourth time this week that their internet connection just stopped working. According to the provider, there’s nothing they can do about it. A lot of people online or something like that. 

“Let me just text Ellie that I can’t make it to the meeting today, and then we can see what we’ll do.”

Noah watches intently as she types the message into her phone.

As much as this all is going to suck, he’ll get to wake up to her every morning and that makes it a little bit better. 

The day drags by so tortuously slowly. They’ve watched two movies, had lunch and watched another three episodes of a show when the boredom really sets in. 

Maya lies with her head in his lap. The show playing in the background is long forgotten as they both do their own little things. 

“You should let me put make-up on you some time.” It sounds like a desperate attempt to keep herself busy. 

Noah has historically been rather bad at saying no to her, so it’s no surprise that he finds himself sat in front of her little vanity just a little while later. He’s happy to entertain Maya, and the upside of this is that he gets to be so very close to her. Having this time together will be good for them. Not that they’ve been struggling before, but actually getting to be a real couple for a little bit without having to deal with the distance will be nice. 

Maya tilts his chin up just a little. 

“Close your eyes for a moment.”

He has no idea what she’s doing. No amount of watching her do this will make him understand what the individual products she uses are. Whatever she’s doing feels nice, though. 

Maya’s fingers brush across the tops of his cheeks, before he feels the tickling of a brush follow in their path. 

“If you’re not careful, I’m going to force you to wear sunscreen.” Maya says then, and he knows that she’s smiling. 

“Is that a promise?” 

She smacks his shoulder playfully, “It’s a threat.” 

He loves what they have. 

They’d met at a friends’ show, literally bumping into each other at the bar. Noah had been hooked from that first moment. Maya had been the reluctant one. But he’d persevered. Noah had “played” best friend for a year before she’d eventually asked him if he’d like to be her date to her brother's wedding. Maya had caught the bouquet that day. He doesn’t remember how the kiss happened, they’d both had plenty to drink at that point. All Noah remembers is that after that day, everything had changed between them. Sure, he’d slept over at her place before and sure, he’d slept in her bed. But when Noah had woken up that morning, it had all felt so different. They’d never really cuddled, but then he’d woken up to Maya curled against his front, arm slung across his body. They’d sort of stumbled into this relationship, and it had taken Noah a whole month to build up the courage to ask her if they were a thing now. He’ll never forget how Maya had smiled at him then. How she’d asked him if he kisses all of his friends like he kisses her. It hadn’t been long until he’d moved into her place to maximise the time they’d have between tours. 

Two years later, Noah still feels all warm inside when she looks at him like that. 

“Alright.” Maya says finally, “All done. Have to admit, I think I’ve outdone myself.” 

What he sees in the mirror doesn’t immediately reach his brain. 

Noah has always been somewhat sure about himself, albeit a little insecure and unsatisfied when it comes to his height and weight. So really, he can’t explain the feeling that barrels through his brain like a freight train at that moment. He can’t tear his eyes away. Narcissus has nothing on him.

It’s almost as if he’s had a minor problem with his vision and has tried on glasses for the first time. It had never seemed off, but now that something has changed – 

He shoves the thought to the back of his mind. 

Nothing has changed. 

Maya put a little bit of stuff on his face and he can admit that it’s aesthetically pleasing. Nothing more. 

Nothing has changed. 

Noah can pick up on the similarities to how Maya does her own make up. And it feels a little like recognising her handwriting between countless others. Not that he knows a lot about this, but he’s watched her do it for long enough now to have at least a little bit of an idea. 

He finds Maya’s eyes in the mirror. 

She’s plotting something. 

“Can I take a couple of pictures, for reference?” she asks a moment later. 

Noah tries to give an indifferent shrug, “Sure.” 

He’s never worried about that before, and he won’t start now. Maya takes plenty of pictures of him for reference. 

He trots after her into the room she uses as a studio. Noah knows this routine by now. He stands in front of the white backdrop waiting for Maya to get her camera out and ready. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t deny the little pit that still sits in his chest. There’s a tightness there that he hadn’t felt an hour ago. 

Half an hour later, Noah finds himself under the burning hot stream of their shower. Maybe blasting himself with scalding water will make this go away. Surely, anyone would have a brief moment of questioning for lack of a better word if they saw themselves like that. He reasons it’s a normal thing. If you see yourself looking entirely different for the first time, it has to do something to your brain. But it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

When he steps out of the shower some twenty minutes later, he’s managed to quiet his mind somewhat. Noah’s sure that this was just a combination of the make-up and the absolute havoc this lockdown has already caused in his brain. 

It’s a little jarring. 

It’s been a little over a week, and he's still thinking about this. 

Noah shakes the thought from his brain — or tries to at least. The thing is that it’s very persistent. A nagging little thing at the stem of his brain that refuses to leave him alone. 

And worst of all, he can’t even really name it. He can’t pinpoint what it exactly is, and maybe that makes it so much worse. Can’t fight a thing you can’t name and all that. Then again, he doesn’t even know if this is a thing he can fight. 

Noah shakes the mouse to wake his pc up again. He scrolls past countless of unread messages until he finds Nick's contact. 

Are you busy?

His message doesn’t stay unanswered for long, and before long, Nick’s reply pops up on his screen. 

Looking to get your ass beat again? Give me five minutes need to feed the cats

The familiarity of Nick will take his mind off this. It isn’t that Maya didn’t, but every time he looks at her, his chest feels tight with this fucking feeling. Noah feels terrible about it. He hates that this thing has tinged the way he looks at his girlfriend. 

It’s seven when Maya knocks at the door of his little studio space. 

“Dinner?” she asks, poking her head through the crack in the door. 

A quick goodbye to Nick later, they’re seated in the living room, with a spread of styrofoam containers on the coffee table in front of them. 

He’s sure that Maya has ordered about every possible option on the menu of their go-to Filipino place. They’ll have enough leftovers for the next few days. 

Noah ends up with his head in her lap. He loves the attention she showers him with. The manicured tips of her fingers scratch against his scalp, just the way he likes it. He’s long stopped paying attention to the documentary they’re watching. The mix of her touch and the warmth of her body lulls him into a comfortable pre-sleep state. And in this drowsy state, he feels a little bit of peace for the first time in a week. Maybe tearing himself away from Maya like this was the wrong way to go about it after all. 

Noah walks down the hallway. This feels familiar – he knows this venue. They’ve played this venue before. His feet lead him into the last restroom before the stage. The lights are still on. Right, he just saw Folio exit the door. His eyes find the mirror – the softer features, the painted skin. Sometimes it still slips her mind. Maya had helped her again, her hands got too shaky to do her make-up on her own.  This is their first show back.  New album, new everything.  It doesn’t feel as scary as it probably should.  She rights her shirt, tugs on the belt until the buckle is properly centred. Noah hears them outside. She’s sure that she can hear Matt and Nick talking about something in front of the door. Something about the last few shows of the tour selling out too.  They huddle up. Jolly says something about how they’ll be better than ever tonight. She feels Nick squeezing her shoulder. Folio’s excitement bubbles over into her. 

Noah feels incredibly disoriented when he wakes up. He doesn’t usually remember his dreams, and this one was especially odd. He tries to shake it off, tries to remember what had happened before he fell asleep. 

Maya should be here. 

He doesn’t immediately see or hear her. The take out containers are gone too. Noah pulls the blanket she had draped over him up a little higher. He tries to listen for her in the silence of their home. 

Nothing. 

Noah turns over onto his back. 

He stares up at the ceiling for a long while. 

It’s a dream, he tells himself, Nothing more.

Eventually, Noah pushes himself off the sofa. 

His body feels so awfully heavy. The clock on his phone reveals that it’s only been forty-five minutes. He could have sworn that he slept through the night. Although he knows that Maya would never let him sleep on the couch like that. 

Noah decides to go looking for her. She can’t have gone far, not this late in the day. There’s no sign of her in the kitchen or their bedroom. He briefly checks the bathroom too, only to find it empty as well. Which leaves him with one more option. 

The door to her studio is ajar, and he suddenly feels a little foolish for having missed it when he passed by it just a few minutes ago. 

Just for a moment, he allows himself to watch her. The pink of her hair is starting to fade again, and he wonders what colour she’ll dye it next. Since he’s known her, her hair has been about every colour of the rainbow. The pink has been the most permanent colour so far. He likes it on her, it suits her. Noah’s sure that she could show up in the most plain and unexciting thing possible and would still have all eyes on her. Maya has a draw to her – one that he’d experienced first hand. 

Noah slips into the room. Maya doesn’t immediately notice him and continues to do whatever she’s been doing. As he comes closer, Noah sees that she’s looking through a stack of photos. He wraps himself around her, and Maya jumps a little in surprise. 

He rests his chin on her shoulder to see exactly what she’s looking at. 

“I got the last film back.” she explains. 

She pauses on a picture of the Nicks. Folio’s grimace makes both of them laugh. Maya continues to cycle through the photos. She slows when she reaches the ones she took of him the week prior. Almost instantly, Noah’s chest tightens. 

Getting a visual refresher of that day brings that unsettling feeling back. He’d tried to push it so far back into his mind, but now that he’s faced with himself again, it slowly crawls back up his spine. 

“Noah?” Maya’s voice seeps into his brain, “Noah – you’re squeezing me.” 

The edge of panic in her voice snaps him out of it. He hadn’t even realised how tight his hold on her had become. 

“I’m sorry – I completely zoned out.” Noah sputters out quickly. 

“Everything okay, baby?” Maya wriggles out of his hold, turning around so that she can look at him, “You know you can tell me everything, right? If something’s up, please don’t lock me out again.” 

He wishes that he could. But how can he talk about this when he doesn’t even know what to call the thing that is bothering him? Noah knows that Maya won’t dig for an answer, they both know that it’ll only make him close up more. And he knows what she’s trying to do with this, he knows that she’s trying to get him to open up a little further, but it feels so awfully impossible. 

When they go to bed that night, Noah lies awake for what feels like hours. When he checks the clock on his phone again, he once more finds out that it’s barely been over an hour. His mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour, unable to settle on anything for long. Eventually, Noah drags himself out of bed. Phone clutched in his hand, he tip-toes to the living room again. If he can’t fall asleep, he might as well keep himself occupied. 

He sinks onto the sofa, the blanket still draped over the arm where he’d left it just a little bit earlier. For a while, he scrolls mindlessly through different feeds. Noah lets himself be dragged into the endless stream – whatever will take his mind away from this. Noah really doesn’t know where this is going to take him. He’s been sleeping so poorly recently, and maybe it’s good that this is happening now that he’s at home and doesn’t have to stick to a strict schedule. Noah doesn’t want to think about how awful this would be if they were on tour. 

Maybe it’s morbid curiosity that leads him to type his somewhat clumsy question into Google. The first searches don’t really give any suitable answers. Noah can objectively say that he looked good with what Maya put on his face, that isn’t his issue, and he isn’t afraid to admit that either. 

The issue lies deeper. 

Appearance doesn’t match what I have in mind

His hands tremble an awful lot for a thing like this.

Noah taps on the first result.

Most of the answers talk about a thing called Body Dysmorphic Disorder. And while it ticks some of his boxes, he doesn’t think it’s the right thing yet. He doesn’t feel detached from himself either, so those options fly out of the window too. 

Surely, not – 

Noah taps out of the browser on his phone as soon as he reads the word gender. Whatever is wreaking havoc on his mind is not that. He digs his fingers into his thighs. 

The silence of the room is deafening. It rings in his ears. 

Noah knows what a panic attack feels like, and this one is barrelling towards him at full speed. 

His lungs haven’t felt this tight in years. 

It all circles back to this one image – one singular what if. 

The doubt creeps over him like sludge, sticky and viscous. 

Noah staggers into the kitchen, barely feeling stable enough to make the trek. He feels dizzy, disoriented. His vision is narrowed to a small pinpoint, and he knows that he’s bumping into all sorts of things on the way to the sink. He blindly pats around the counter until his fingers curl around the edge of the sink.

The cold water shocks him out of the state of blind panic he’s been in. His hands still shake uncontrollably, but at least he doesn’t feel as if he’s about to empty his stomach out in the next few moments. 

Noah slumps down in front of the counter. 

It can’t be that. 

He’s never questioned himself like that before. 

The light in the hallway flickers on, pulling his attention towards it. 

“Noah?” her voice rings through dimly lit space and finds its way into the centre of his chest. 

He can’t bring himself to reply. The words won’t come. 

He hears Maya’s bare feet on the wooden floors. 

She eventually finds him cowering in the middle of their kitchen. Maya comes to kneel in front of him, hands immediately finding the sides of his face. 

Her words rush right past his ears. Noah lets her wrap him up in her arms. He doesn’t know for how long they sit like this, but eventually, his mind returns to him. 

“Noah, honey.” she speaks softly, fingers still combing through his hair, “What’s going on?”

He swallows the lump in his throat. 

“It’s just a lot.” he says instead of the thousand other things he could say. 

It’s not really a lie, but he still feels impossibly bad. 

For the next five weeks, Noah finds himself spiralling further down this seemingly endless tunnel. For the most part, he sequesters himself to the second bedroom he uses as a studio. All under the guise of feeling so productive. In reality, he sits staring at the monitor for hours and maybe gets a fraction of the work he had planned done. 

There’s no rush to finish the album anyway. 

Who knows when or if they’ll be able to tour again. 

Everything feels as if it's collapsing around him. Every time he thinks that he’s ready to tell Maya that he’s digging himself deeper and deeper into this crisis, Noah feels himself shrinking back into his shell. 

And so he sits in silence, listening to the tormenting thoughts that course through his mind. It’s almost as if they’re taunting him. 

Noah hasn’t dared to look further into the possibilities of what this could be. That one shock of reading  gender and dysphoria had been enough for him. It’s not that he doesn’t agree with that, people can and should do whatever they want with their bodies. 

But he? 

Noah has never questioned his identity like that, he’s never looked at himself and thought what if? And now it’s all he can think about. 

What if he isn’t what he thought he was?

Sure, he’s had moments of insecurity. 

One or the other high school bully had thrown the odd you dress like a girl at him, but that had never really worried him. Before that day, Noah had never looked at himself and felt this disconnect. 

In a desperate attempt to end this day of self-flagellation, Noah finds his way into the bathroom. Maya had once told him that a bath could fix most of her problems, and at this point he’s willing to try everything. 

Running himself a bath like this in the middle of the day does feel a little odd, but he’s done stranger things in recent weeks. 

The hot water does help to ease the ache from his bones. If this does nothing else, he’ll at least feel a little less tense. 

Noah lets himself sink into the water and suds. 

His world is crumbling around him, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Then again, Noah doesn’t even know if he can or should stop this. 

It’s an odd thing. 

Because when he lets himself glimpse past the denial, something about this feels right. When he lets himself consider it clearly and without judgement, he knows that what he saw in the mirror, the made up feminine face, looked so deeply familiar. 

A long-lost friend.  

In the sanctity and security of this space, Noah lets himself consider this. He lets himself sink under the water. 

What’s the worst that could come of this?

There are the consequences this would have for himself. If he lets himself explore this, he’ll have to deal with a plethora of questions that he doesn’t even know about yet. Deep down, he knows that Maya will be with him no matter what. She won’t judge him for this questioning, they’ve talked plenty about her explorations with sexuality. 

The band is a different thing entirely. He’s sure that none of them will treat him differently, but the fear is still there. There’s no real knowing. 

He doesn’t even want to think about their audience. That’s a bridge he won’t even think about until it comes into view. 

A knock on the door and the call of his name draw Noah out of his thoughts. 

“Honey, are you in there?” Maya’s voice is laced with concern. 

“Yes.” he answers quietly. 

“Can I come in?” 

When he doesn’t answer immediately, she cracks open the door just a little, “Noah?” 

He musters all of his strength to answer, “Come in.” 

Maya slips into the room, the worry on her face breaks his heart a little. 

“I was looking for you all over the place.” she says, as she sits on the edge of the tub, “Everything okay?” 

She reaches for the hand that is nearest to her, carefully tangling their fingers together. 

For a moment, Noah thinks that he should tell her.

In the end, he gives another vague everything is bad, and I don’t know what to do answer. He doesn’t know if Maya actually buys it, but she doesn’t press him further. 

“Do you want to be alone or do you want me to stay here?” she asks eventually. 

“Can you stay?” Noah asks, despite her offering to do so. 

With a little more hot water added to the tub, Maya slips into the tub behind him. Noah lets the mess in his brain float away from him, when he rests his body against hers. Her arms curl around his middle, hands splayed out across his tummy. They sit like this for a while, silence wrapped around them. It’s comfortable, and Noah thinks that maybe he shouldn’t isolate himself as much. 

His breath hitches when her hand drifts a little lower. 

“Is this okay?” Maya sounds so careful and hesitant. 

Intimacy has been tricky.

The anxiety that has settled in his body has made him so tired that he falls asleep before Maya. It’s not that he hasn’t wanted this, and he knows that he’s been neglecting her quite a bit. 

The tips of her fingers skate across his hip, and that breaks his resolve. 

“Please, baby.” he sighs out shakily. 

Noah’s eyes fall shut when Maya wraps her hand around him. He lets himself get lost in the slow movements of her hand. 

She always treats him so well. 

Her lips follow the curve of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Noah sighs when she reaches that one extra sensitive spot on his neck. 

“I missed you.” Maya sounds almost mournful when she speaks, “You’ve been so far away from me.” 

The words burn in his chest. 

He knows it’s true. 

Noah let himself drift away from her, he allowed them to become distant like this. He doesn’t know if he has it in him to tell her about this yet, but he can’t lose her. 

Consciously, this time, he brings himself back to the present moment – to Maya. 

It takes Noah a moment to catch up, and he feels his breath catch in his throat when he really allows himself to feel all of this. His head drops back against her shoulder as she continues to work him towards his climax. He knows that she enjoys this just as much as he does. Noah doesn’t hold back on his moans, not that he has much choice with how good her hand feels on him. 

“Please don’t stop.” He sighs out between laboured breaths. 

Her name is a prayer on his lips. 

The only thing that circles in his mind is her, the way she makes him feel, the way she feels behind him. Noah allows the feeling to swallow him entirely. It drowns out the anxiety, the fear, and instead gives him a soft warmth. The comfort he has been missing slowly creeps back into his body. 

Maya doesn’t let him get back to work after that. He’s glad that she insists that he needs a break — he wouldn’t have allowed himself one. 

Noah lets her pull him into their bedroom, into their bed. For the first time in weeks, he allows himself comfort, a brief respite from the cold he has let himself fall into. 

He doesn’t really register what they watch, and it doesn’t matter that much, either. Maya is curled up in front of him, her back warm against his chest. He buries his face in the side of her neck, lets the soft scent of her shampoo and perfume fill his senses. 

Noah knows that he needs to tell her.

She deserves to know, she deserves to make a decision of her own. 

He almost tells her in that moment. 

But Maya falls asleep before he does, and he shelves the plan just for a while longer. 

He will tell her. 

Noah doesn’t tell her for another few weeks. 

Instead, he crawls back into the dark – willingly this time. 

The more he looks into this thing, the more it darkens his mood. He’d hoped that understanding this would let him open himself to Maya again, but instead they’re just quietly drifting away from each other. 

The thing hangs over them like an oppressive shadow, and he can feel her slipping away. 

Maya is out of bed before he gets up on most mornings. She stays in her studio and only steps out for lunch and dinner. Noah thinks that she looks awfully tired. 

He knows what the right thing is, he knows how he could make this stop, and yet – he feels immobilised by the fear that still clings to him. 

Lately, he’s been pulling away more and more from his friends, too. The last message Nick has sent him has gone unanswered for a few days now. He can’t bring himself to type out whatever lame excuse flits through his mind at that moment. He can’t lie to Nick too. He’s already lying to the most important person in his life. 

Noah knows that he’s letting both of them down with this, and still, the words remain unspoken. 

It’s nearing midnight when he crawls out of bed again. Maya is asleep next to him, but he can tell that she isn’t sleeping well. 

Neither of them has in recent weeks. 

He slips out of their bedroom as quietly as he can and hides himself away in his studio. 

Almost as if pre-programmed, Noah finds his way back to the forums he’s been studying. He’s been reading up on experiences, trying to piece together what this feeling means for him. He knows that this isn’t a black and white thing. It’s awfully complicated and – 

He just manages to slam his phone onto the table when the door flies open. 

“We’re either going to talk this out now or I’m going to Ellie’s for a bit. I cannot deal with you sneaking out of bed every fucking night.” she doesn’t sound angry, and Noah doesn’t need to look up to know that she’s been crying. 

The thought of Maya quietly crying to herself breaks his heart even further. 

“I feel like you’re – drifting away from me, Noah. I don’t know what’s happening. If you – if you don’t want this any more, that’s okay, but please have the decency to tell me and don’t string me along like this.” 

The words hit him like a wall of bricks. 

He knows that he’s been horrible, not just as a partner but as a friend too. But hearing how truly painful his actions – or rather lack thereof – have been feels like the final nail in his coffin. 

“Maya I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Just tell me what is going on, please.” 

Even from this distance he can see the furrow in her brow, the quivering of her lip. One hand grips the other so tightly. He only notices now, that she has pulled one of his sweatshirts over her body. 

Noah draws in a deep breath, “I – I don’t know how to explain it really. I have to apologise, though – I need to. You didn’t deserve this.”

Maya slowly comes closer to him, still so very hesitant. 

“Do you remember when you put make-up on me that one day?” she nods, “I don’t know – something about seeing myself like that fucked with my head a little.” 

The concern on her face becomes even more evident then, “How so? I don’t know if I understand.” 

Noah rubs a hand across his face. He can barely stop his knee from bouncing now. The nerves bite at him, gnaw at his resolve. He swallows down the beginnings of tears. 

“It – made me feel – fuck, this is already difficult to make sense of in my head – seeing myself like that felt like I was seeing myself for the first time. I don’t know – I still don’t know what that means for me. I’ve been trying to figure it out and in doing so, I’ve let this happen, and I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Noah can’t stop the tears then. 

A moment passes before he feels hands grasping his. The warmth doesn’t quite reach him yet. 

“Why haven’t you talked to me, Noah?” 

A sob breaks from him, “I wanted to.” 

He feels her forehead dropping against his knees. 

Damp stains his skin. 

Maya kneels at his feet, barely clinging on to his form. There’s something so devastating about that sight. Hearing her quiet sniffles breaks his heart just a little more. Every shake of her shoulders drives the thorn further into his chest. 

He can’t tell how much time passes until she looks up at him again. Her cheeks are red and splotchy, skin stained with tears. 

“I’m sorry that you felt as if you couldn’t talk to me about this. I – feel like I’ve let you down.” she says quietly, “I’m so sorry.” He watches helplessly as rises to her feet once again. 

“You didn’t – I made myself believe that I couldn’t talk to you.” He doesn't know if his words actually help, he hopes that they do, “You’ve always been there for me. This just – I could barely wrap my head around it. And when I figured out what I was even feeling, it fucked with me so much.” 

“I think I need a moment to think and sort my head out. Can we – we should finish this in the morning? It’s late.” 

Noah thinks that he hears a sliver of regret in her voice. It’s hidden behind the obvious pain that colours her features. Knowing that he caused this pain makes his chest tighten up again. 

He nods, fully knowing that nothing he has to say right now will change this. 

Noah doesn’t question when Maya doesn’t follow him into their bedroom. The sting of it still stays with him when he crawls back under the duvet. He can’t shake the look on her face from his mind. 

He’s never seen Maya look this hurt. 

Noah hates that it has taken him this long to realise that he cannot let things go on like he has. They both deserve better than this. He won’t let himself sit in this silence, and he won’t let her suffer at his hands any more. 

Tomorrow he’ll put his cards on the table, no matter how terrifying it is. It’s not just about being honest to her any more, it's about being honest to himself. 

He lasts maybe thirty minutes on his own, before he finds his way back into the living room. He finds Maya cradling a cup of tea in her hands. The skin below her eyes is still damp with tears. 

Silently, he holds his hand out to her. 

Maya hesitates for just a moment, before she sets her cup down on the coffee table. As soon as her hand is in his, he pulls her in. Maya wraps herself around him, face buried against his chest. Her hold on him should feel suffocating, but in this moment it’s exactly what he needs. 

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but we’ll figure this out. I’m here for you no matter what, okay?” 

Noah has to choke back a new wave of tears. 

“I know.” 

“I love you and nothing will change that.” her words sink into his chest. 

It’s been too long since he heard her say it – or said it himself. 

“Promise?” Her arms tighten around him just a little bit more, “I promise, Noah.” 

“I love you too.” he says finally, and he feels Maya relax a little against him, “Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

He wakes with Maya still wrapped around him. 

Her hand is warm on his chest, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t wake up with an ache in his jaw. 

The morning continues slow. 

He exits the bathroom to the sight of Maya getting the rest of their breakfast ready. They eat outside in their little garden, the silence is for once comfortable. 

The weight on his shoulders feels a little bit lighter. 

But the prospect of the conversation they still have to hold still lingers over him. Noah can’t deny that it terrifies him. Knowing that he’ll have to voice this thing out loud shakes him to the core. He still isn’t sure how he’s supposed to put all of this into words. 

He feels a hand on top of his. 

“Noah?” she asks softly, “You’re getting awfully quiet again.” 

Might as well rip off the band-aid now. 

“I don’t really know how to say this. I’m still trying to figure out what this means for me. I never really questioned how I see myself before that day. And seeing myself like that, it – scared me a lot. It still does to be honest.”

“When you say question – just so we’re both on the same page – what do you mean?”

He draws in a shaky breath, “I don’t know if guy is the right way to describe myself. I don’t know what the right thing is, but I know that it’s not that.” 

Noah doesn’t dare to open his eyes. 

Her hand squeezes his. 

“Noah, honey.” Maya says softly, “Can you look at me?” 

He forces his eyes open and slowly turns to look at her. 

“This is okay. It’s okay that you’re questioning this. And I wish that I could have been there for you.” she looks at him with so much genuine honesty, “Whatever you decide doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He whispers a quiet thank-you. 

“What do you need from me right now? How can I help?” 

“Just be you. I think I need that constant.” Noah feels a little silly saying it, putting it like that, but the comfort of her is exactly what he needs. 

“I can do that.” Maya says with a nod, “But Noah, please talk to me. Don’t shut me out like that. I don’t want you to be alone with this.” 

He squeezes her hand in response, “I’m sorry for how I treated you these last few weeks. That wasn’t fair, and I’m very sorry.” 

“It’s okay. We just won’t let it get that far again. Promise me that.” 

He gives a nod in reply, “Promise.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know you will.” 

Maya pulls him in for a kiss, “Good. Let’s get this inside. I still have to finish the piece I’m working on.” 

“What are you working on anyway?” 

For a moment, everything feels normal. They’re cleaning up the remnants of their shared breakfast, talking about what they’re working on. Noah has missed hearing about her work. He loves the pretty animated look she gets when she talks about her current project. 

“I thought we could go for a little drive? Get out of the house for a little bit, maybe get something to snack on?” Maya proposes as she hops up on the counter, “What do you think?”

Noah comes to stand in front of her, hands naturally finding their way to the tops of her thighs, “Think that would be nice. I’m getting kinda sick of being inside all the time.” 

Maya drapes her arms over his shoulder, fingers lacing together behind his neck, “Tell me about it. Getting out of the house for a little bit will be good for us.” 

An hour later, Noah pulls out of their spot on the side of the street. In the corner of his vision, he can see Maya scrolling through her phone, most likely trying to decide which playlist she wants to put on. 

She eventually settles on her go-to, and the familiar intro of some Arctic Monkeys song warbles through the speakers. 

They drive for maybe ten minutes before Maya speaks up again.

“Please tell me if I’m touching on something you’re not ready to talk about. But I have a few questions, if that’s okay?” She sounds so hesitant, carefully dancing around the topic. 

Maybe if he’d done this all differently, things would feel so stilted now. 

“Sure. I don’t know if I can answer them, though. It’s all — I don’t know if I really know what this all means for me, you know?”

“Was it really the makeup that set this all off?” 

He nods, “I think seeing myself like that dug something up that I managed to hide so well that I didn’t even know about it.” 

“You never questioned it before that day?”

“Not that I can remember.” Noah replies, he’s thought about it often enough in the last few weeks to at least be sure of this. 

He tries his best to answer the questions Maya throws at him. Many of them still feel unclear to him. But openly talking about it for the first time helps – maybe if he’d felt a little bit braver, this would have been so much easier. He’s always found solace in her, and maybe he should have known that speaking to someone about this would help. 

They end up in a car park overlooking the ocean. It’s quiet – everything is at the moment. But for once, his mind is also quiet. They sit on a low wall, quietly talking for a little while longer. Noah lets his head drop to her shoulder, as they watch the slow ebb and flow of the water before them. 

Maya’s hand is warm on his thigh, it rests high on his leg in that comforting way. She does it when they’re out together and the clutch of anxiety is wrought tightly around him. Once in a while, he feels her fingers pulse against the inside of his thigh, like a friendly reminder that she’s still beside him. 

“I got everything for flatbread pizzas when I ordered groceries yesterday. Before you ask, I got the nice tomatoes.” 

For the first time in weeks, Noah hears himself genuinely laugh out loud. 

Getting out of the house for a while, even if it’s just to sit and talk, makes his chest feel a little less tight. The anxiety is still there, but it’s not quite as strangling any more. 

“Come with me for a minute, will you?” Maya asks when she unlocks their front door.

Naturally, Noah follows her into her studio. 

He hasn’t been into her space in weeks. The familiar scent of her paints and inks filters into his senses. Noah wonders what she’s been working on. 

The easel is still covered by an old duvet cover. He remembers it from Maya’s old apartment, the little one bedroom with the leaking faucet in the kitchen that would drive them absolutely insane at night. 

“It’s a little funny – I didn’t know what that moment did for you. I just thought that you looked so –” she gesticulates trying to find the right word before settling on something, “Beautiful. I had to do something with it.” 

She steps away from the easel, motioning for him to remove the cover. 

Noah doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so nervous. Maya has shown him plenty of her work before, but something about this feels different. 

His hands tremble a little when he reaches for the fabric. He’s learnt the hard way that he can’t just yank it off. Noah lifts the duvet over off the canvas, gathering it up in his hands. 

What he sees on the canvas makes his breath catch in his throat. 

The inspiration is clearly visible, but Maya’s mark is what makes it truly special. He can recognise himself, the way he looked that day, but there’s something otherworldly about the way Maya has portrayed him. He’s never understood how she makes her work look as if it’s shiny like this. 

Once again, Noah is transfixed by his own appearance. 

His eyes race across the canvas, unable to find a point to focus on. There’s something soft and — feminine to it. His heart thumps in his chest. 

Noah feels Maya coming up next to him. Her hand wraps around his, as she presses up next to him. 

“What do you think?” she asks quietly, and Noah doesn’t miss the hint of insecurity in her voice. 

“That’s how you saw it?” 

He sees her nod in the corner of his vision. 

“I don’t know what to say. This – this is amazing. Thank you, my love.”

Maya pulls their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to the back of his, “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help you with this. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

It takes him a few more days to build up the courage to ask her again. Last time, Maya had been the one who brought it up, but Noah knows that he’ll have to ask for it. She had said that she’d help him with whatever, and he knows that Maya will not judge him for it. She’s made that very clear. Noah repeats the words in his head like a mantra, trying to cement them there.

Things had normalised somewhat in the last few days. They’d had a few more very honest conversations, tears had been shed, but at the end of the day, one thing became clear. Actually, speaking about this was more helpful than it was scary. Maya had offered him some much-needed perspective and comfort, and all things considered, things weren’t looking too bad. 

With this new-found confidence, Noah pushes his way into the bathroom, where Maya is still going through her morning routine. He wraps his arms around her middle, placing his chin on top of her shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, finding her eyes in the mirror. 

She meets his glance, giving him a soft smile.

“You wanna try?” she asks. 

Noah gives a hesitant nod. 

“Let me finish up, and then I’ll walk you through it.” 

He stays, watching her move through the surprisingly intricate routine. Eventually, Maya hops up onto the counter, urging Noah to come closer. He steps between her thighs, placing his hands on top of hers. 

“Step one.” Maya picks up her face wash, holding it out to him, “Don’t think I have to explain this bit to you.” 

She walks him through the steps, patiently explaining what each product does. Her little tinctures and creams leave the skin of his face feeling as soft as ever before. 

Maya picks up the tube of sunscreen, squirting some of it onto her fingers. She dabs it all over his face, placing the final dot onto the tip of his nose with a giggle. 

“I know we’re inside a lot at the moment, but you have to wear sunscreen.” There's still humour in her words, but he knows that she’s serious, “I can’t believe that Nick hasn’t gotten on your ass about it yet. With how many tattoos you have, I would have expected that someone would have told you that you need sunscreen at some point.”

He spreads it across his skin, occasionally​​ checking the mirror behind Maya. 

“What now?” he asks finally. 

“All done.” 

He hesitates for a long moment, eyes flitting between his reflection and Maya. 

“Do you – if you have the time – could you do my make-up again?” Noah asks quietly. 

Maya breaks into a smile, “Sure. I could also just show you how to do it yourself?” 

Once again, Noah finds himself sitting in front of her vanity. The items on the table in front of him seem endlessly confusing. Despite how much time he has spent watching Maya do this, he feels so very clueless right now. But Maya is patient and slowly walks him through it this time. 

It’s by no means perfect, but the routine Maya proposes is simple enough for him to recreate on his own. 

And at the end of it, Noah finds himself once again faced with this version of himself. It’s a little different from the last time, but he still finds comfort in what he sees. 

Maya drops her head to his shoulder, looking at him in her mirror. 

“I stand by what I said, you look so beautiful like this.” Her voice is so soft. 

Noah can barely contain the smirk that forces its way onto his face, “And not without it?” 

She smacks his thigh, “Beautiful either way.”

“I’m still not sure about what this all means for me, but – I think I want to try they.” his voice wavers just a little towards the end. 

“In addition to he?” Maya asks then. 

Noah nods, “Just he doesn’t feel like it’s – enough?”

Maya gives a squeeze to their thigh. It’s comforting, reassuring. 

“I’m glad that you’re allowing yourself to explore this, love. It’s a big thing, but I’m so proud of you for letting yourself do this.” The genuine warmth in her voice wraps around his mind like a warm blanket. 

Noah turns as best as he can with how they’re positioned. They press a kiss to Maya’s temple, lingering there for just a moment. 

“Thank you. Really.” Noah whispers. 

The moment feels too tender for anything else. 

Noah lets himself sit in the feeling for a while. They feel Maya’s eyes on their face, quietly observing – admiring, perhaps. 

Maya lifts her head, forcing Noah to do the same. She shifts, now sitting sideways on the little bench. 

“Look at me, will you?” 

She gently guides him towards her, hand soft on his cheek. 

“I love you so much.” her thumb drifts across their cheek, “Don’t forget that.” 

“I love you too.”   

She pulls them in for a kiss. A soft little thing that makes them feel so very loved. Noah drops his forehead to hers when they part. 

Having her at his side for this will make it so much better. 

Somehow, Noah hadn’t thought that things would be so normal. They’d expected that everything would feel just a little different, but in reality, life just goes on. But then again, things are still very far from being normal. 

He’s actually managed to get some real work done. 

His shoulders feel a little bit lighter now that he’s not bearing this alone any more. 

They’ve adapted a version of Maya’s skincare routine for themself. Maya has helped him find things that work even better than her products do. He’s dipped his fingers into Maya’s makeup, too, trying to get a feel for it. Noah thinks that they’re starting to get the hang of it. 

Fingers tap on his shoulder, making him jump. 

Maya looks at him expectantly. 

“Something up?”

“I love that you’re doing this, but you’ve used up some pretty expensive products. I think it’s time that we’ll get you your own stuff.” 

Noah finds a smile on her face, despite the stern words. 

“I didn’t even realise.” Noah replies feebly, “I’m sorry.” She squeezes their shoulder, “I’m not mad. But having your own things might be nice for you, too.” 

“Can we do that online?” 

Noah doesn’t know if he’s quite ready to do this in public yet. Maya seems to pick up on his hesitance, though, and nods quickly. 

“Of course.” she presses a kiss to their cheek, “Why don’t you wrap this up so that Jolly can stop badgering me about when you’re going to send him that demo, and then we can do a little shopping?” 

He joins her in the living room a good thirty minutes later. Maya has already pulled up a variety of sites on her laptop when they sit down next to her. It takes Noah a moment to really feel comfortable picking something out, but with a little bit of nudging from Maya, they end up making increasingly braver choices. 

Noah picks out some things that he knows from Maya, others he selects just because they look interesting. If he’s experimenting with things, he might as well do it properly. 

By the end of their little digital shopping trip, the cart is filled with all sorts of things. Everything from the basic things to a variety of highlighters, glitters, and things Noah doesn't even know the name of. There are doubles of some items, things that Maya had found interesting, too. He doesn’t want to think about the total, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that much. Having this additional thing that they can share feels good. 

There’s something intimate about this. 

Noah has never been good at letting his walls down, and this whole experience has been a struggle from the start. But they’re glad that they have the option to do this in a moment like this. They’re safe in their home with the person they love. There’s not much more they could ask for. 

Noah lets his head drop to her shoulder. 

With the laptop forgotten on the coffee table, Maya quickly finds her way into Noah’s lap. Her lips trail up the side of their neck. Their hands rest on Maya’s waist, slowly skating upwards under her shirt. 

It feels like it’s been ages since they’ve been together like this. It’s been a few weeks since Maya had gotten them off in the bathtub. But since then, so much has changed. 

Maya kisses her way along Noah’s jaw, before she finally brings her lips to theirs. 

One of her hands rests against the side of their face, while the other threads into the hair at the back of their neck. 

Maya grinds down against them, and Noah can’t hold back the whine that bubbles up in their throat. Her body is so soft under their hands, and they want nothing more than to give themself to her. Noah wants to melt into her touch, fall apart at her hands. The warmth that radiates off her body seeps into his. 

Maya moans against their lips when Noah pulls her closer. 

They feel Maya bringing a hand between their bodies. Noah knows what her destination is, they know where she is headed. And when her hand presses against their crotch, it’s as if a switch is flipped in their head. 

Cold fear washes over their body. 

Noah rears his head back, trying to draw much needed air into his lungs. It takes Maya a moment to catch up, but as soon as she does, her hands leave their body, and she moves back just enough. 

“I can’t.” Noah says quietly, shame slowly creeping up his back.

He doesn’t quite know where this sudden fear is coming from, but he can’t bear the thought of being touched like this right now. Noah feels his hands trembling against her skin and quickly pulls them away. 

Maya remains where she is, quietly watching them for a moment. 

“Baby it’s okay.” she says after a long while, “We don’t have to do anything. If you don’t feel comfortable with this at the moment, that’s okay.”

Noah runs a clammy hand across his face. This is not how he’d wanted this to go. The panic spiral is slippery, and trying to keep himself from sliding is turning out to be quite tricky. 

“Noah.” Maya’s voice barely manages to break through the fog in his brain, “Honey, can you look at me for a moment?” 

Noah draws in a shaky breath before they look up and at her. 

“It’s okay. I understand that things are difficult right now. I should have asked if you’re okay with me touching you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.” Maya says softly. 

Noah drops his head for a moment. This whole thing makes everything so much more complicated. 

“I didn’t think that I’d react like that, either.” Noah shoots back quickly, “I don’t want you to feel bad. This is not because of you. It’s – just there’s this disconnect, you know?”

Maya looks at him with that same worried expression he’s been faced with more times than he dares to count in recent weeks. 

“It feels a little as if what’s in my head doesn’t really match up with this any more.” They gesture towards themself, “It’s good most of the time, but just now it felt like everything is wrong.” 

Maya wraps herself around them. 

She doesn’t have to say a word for Noah to know what she feels. It’s comfort in its purest form. An unspoken I may not understand entirely, but I’m here. 

She’s warm and soft, and Noah feels terrible for neglecting her like this. They can’t imagine that any of this is easy for her, too. 

They stay like this for a long while, eventually moving over into the bedroom to watch a few episodes of a show they’d started a while ago. Noah lets themself sink into Maya’s embrace, allowing the worries on their mind to drift away for just a moment. 

Some things will never change – Noah hates doing laundry. It’s tedious, it’s annoying, but they’d agreed to split chores when this lockdown started, and they’re not about to let Maya down. 

They drop the freshly tumble-dried garments into the basket before picking it up. He’ll fold everything as he’s putting it away. 

Things have settled a little bit more. 

Another evening of research, this time with moral support from Maya, had revealed that the thing they’d experienced a few days earlier had, in fact, been a bout of gender dysphoria. It had rattled them a little bit more than they’d liked to admit, but Maya had assured them that they’d be able to manoeuvre this together. 

They’re inclined to believe her. 

And really it made sense.

Throughout all of this, Noah has felt as if something didn’t match up. And if they’re honest with themself, they’ve known what it is since that first day. 

Coming to terms with it is a different thing. 

Maya hadn’t said anything about it, but they’re sure that she knows by now. Noah’s glad that she’s allowing them to do this on their own terms. They’re still not sure where this’ll take them, but one thing’s for sure they’re not going back where they’ve been before. 

Noah plucks one of Maya’s skirts from the laundry basket. 

It’s the one they love seeing on her. A pretty little thing that they’ve shoved their hand under on more than one occasion. 

An idea springs into their head then. 

Trying it on can’t hurt. 

And if they’re already exploring make-up, why not expand to clothing too. 

Their hands tremble when they hold the skirt out in front of their body. It should fit, the fabric is just elastic enough. Noah pushes their sweats down. It takes them a few moments to build up the courage to pull the skirt up and over their waist. 

Their eyes remain low, unable to look at their reflection. 

Noah draws in a deep breath. 

Their chest fills with an odd warmth. 

The hem of the skirt hits just above the middle of their thighs. 

They can’t stop looking. 

Noah pulls their shirt up, pulling it back so that it fits a little tighter around where the waistband of the skirt sits, in an attempt to emulate how Maya would wear it. 

Their heart pounds so incredibly fast.

The shape of their body still feels too boxy, too much like guy, but something about this itches a very specific spot in their brain. 

Their hands drift across their body, trying to imagine a softer, less angular shape. It feels good. 

Another thought pops into their head then. 

They open Maya’s side of the closet. 

Maya won’t judge them for this. She’s said multiple times that she’ll support whatever they need. 

For the first time, they allow their fingers to pass over the pretty dresses Maya wears with the intention of picking something for themself. 

They don’t want to risk stretching out any of her clothes. Maya has a few more loose fitting dresses, one of those will be just fine. 

They pluck a little black number from the rail. They know what it looks like on Maya. The deep v neckline looks gorgeous on Maya, and suddenly Noah has to know what it will look like on their body. 

Their hands don’t shake as much any more when they unzip the skirt and take off their shirt. Slipping the garment over their head is so easy. And they’re not as scared of looking at themself this time around. 

The sleeves are a little too short on them, and it all feels a little uncomfortable at first, but Noah is willing to blame that on them not being used to dresses. 

The fabric feels good on their body. It’s soft and light and the longer they look at their reflection, the more they get used to it. 

Pulling their hair up with the claw clip they’d borrowed from Maya a while ago settles the nerves in their belly even more. For a moment, Noah considers the additional box of make-up that now sits on Maya’s vanity, and eventually decides that just a little bit will be enough. Their hand rifles through the box until they pluck a tube of lightly tinted lip gloss from it. 

Noah feels quite secure with this by now. Applying the gloss is no issue at all. The colour is fairly sheer, and they don’t have to be super precise with it. 

When Noah steps back in front of the mirror, their breath catches in their throat. It feels as if things have clicked into place. Their eyes flicker across their reflection. 

When seeing themself in make-up felt good, this feels – euphoric. 

The small edge of panic that tries to make itself known is drowned out by how good it feels to see themself like this.  

Noah curses themself for forgetting their phone in the living room.

They can always recreate this moment. 

Noah takes a few more moments like this, finishing the laundry they have to fold while still wearing the dress. 

Taking it off again feels a little sad. It’s not like Maya would be judgemental of it, but they don’t feel quite ready to share this yet. 

Maya will understand. 

With everything returned to normal, Noah quickly wipes the gloss from their lips. When they return to the bedroom, they find the door just slightly ajar. Noah is sure that they’ve closed the door before they had tried on the skirt. 

Maybe they had left it open after all. 

Noah finds Maya in the kitchen, working on their lunch. They wrap their arms around her middle, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

“What are you making?” 

Maya leans back against them, and Noah can’t stop themself from pressing another kiss to her cheek. 

“Pasta. With all of the leftover veggies we still have. The cheese will save it.” she replies, letting herself sink further against Noah. 

If she saw something, Maya doesn’t let it on.

“Do you want to get ice cream later?” they ask, now fully resting their cheek against Maya’s. 

“Would love that.”

It was a slow realisation. 

Noah doesn’t exactly know when it clicked. They had long realised that he was not only insufficient to describe themself but also plain wrong. They’d tried to look at themself in the mirror and think of it, only to feel a little nauseated. 

It had started to bleed into other spaces too. Hearing Nick call them dude made them cringe, but they bit through it, not feeling quite ready to share this with someone else yet. 

Noah is sure that Nick wouldn’t have a problem with this, but there’s still that lingering fear. They’ve read too many reports on best friends turning on people after any kind of coming out. And there’s simply too much at stake here. 

Noah wants to be absolutely sure of this before he tells anyone else. The first step to that is talking to Maya.

They splash another handful of ice-cold water into their face, in the hope that it’ll ease their nerves at least a little. 

The realisation had really hit them this morning. 

They don’t know what exactly triggered it, but somewhere between washing their face and brushing their teeth, things had started to make sense. 

Noah looks up at the mirror. 

Their fingers drift across their freshly shaved cheeks. Noah’s been keeping up with it a lot more. They have never had a lot of facial hair, but keeping their face smooth eased some of the ache in their chest. 

It’s still a little difficult to see anything but guy when they look in the mirror. On some days, it's easier for Noah to imagine their features a little softer, more feminine. Today is, thankfully, one of those days. 

They’ve managed to shed their fear of the word feminine, slowly realising that maybe it was a more accurate way to describe how they feel about themself. 

Noah swallows a breath. 

The thought reverberates around their brain. 

What if? 

Noah thinks about the moments that have made them feel most comfortable in recent weeks. They think back to the afternoon when they tried on one of Maya’s dresses. It stands in such a stark contrast to the times when they have to put on this masculine facade.

There really isn’t a lot to debate here any more. 

Noah goes to find Maya. 

She has to be the first one to hear about this. 

They find her working on a small illustration in her studio. 

They’ve been talking about the new album they’ve started to work on. Progress is slow, but it is progress. And Noah’s enthusiasm for the concept seems to have coloured off on her too. Noah has a few of her sketches taped to the wall behind their monitor. 

Noah knocks on the frame of the open door. 

Maya looks up at them with a soft smile, “Hi baby.” 

“You got a moment for me?” They hope that they don’t sound as nervous as they feel. 

She pushes away from her desk, pulling the second chair towards her. 

“For you, always.” 

Noah sits, wringing their hands together in their lap. 

“Everything okay?” Maya reaches out to place her hand over theirs. 

This feels like an awfully daunting thing.

In a way it is, even though they know that Maya will be with them. 

Noah nods, “I think I have to drop the he.” they choke the words out before they manage to get caught in their throat. 

Maya blinks at them for a moment, before she nods. 

For a brief second, Noah thinks that she isn’t impressed, but then her lips twist into a smile. 

“Just they?” she asks curiously. 

Noah thinks. 

They know their answer. 

“Doesn’t feel like it’s enough, you know?” they reply. 

There’s a little bit of hesitance in Maya’s face. Her brow furrows, in that way it does when she’s trying to make up her mind about something.  

“I mean, there’s always she. You have been leaning towards more feminine things.” she says quietly. 

Noah’s heart thumps a little.  

They feel their lips beginning to tremble. 

It’s not panic – this is relief. 

Hearing her say it first makes it less scary. 

“I think I like that.” 

Noah presses her lips together. 

“I am so proud of you, baby.” Maya squeezes their hands, “And I love you so much.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise. Pinky promise.” she gives another squeeze, “And I’ll tell you as often as I have to.” 

Noah feels herself smile. 

It feels so new, but thinking of themself like this feels good – right. 

“Do you want to keep using they?” Maya asks then. 

She nods, “I like it. Both feels right.” 

Maya’s free hand finds its way to the side of Noah’s face. She carefully guides her closer, until they finally meet. It’s just a soft little thing, but it eases some of the weight from their shoulders. 

Maya scoots a little closer, her hand still covering Noah’s. Her gaze is soft and warm, and can practically feel the love seeping into her own skin. This whole thing is scary and exciting in equal measures, and while she’s sure that it will stay scary for a good while longer, she feels hopeful. 

The heavy weight of the last months doesn’t feel quite as heavy any more. There are still a few things that terrify them, but the biggest hurdle seems to be behind them. 

Noah can’t stop the tears then. 

Not a second after the first tear has fallen, Maya wraps herself around them. She holds Noah while they cry. The weight of his realisation still feels heavy, it’s still so daunting and new and overwhelming. 

It feels good to let all of it out. 

At some point, Maya moves them over into the living room. Noah doesn’t know or care how much time passes. All they know is that they feel a little bit lighter when they untangle themself from Maya.

“Feeling a little better?” Maya asks softly, tracing her fingers across Noah’s cheek.  

Noah nods, “Thank you for being – so understanding with all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Luckily, we don’t have to think about that.” Maya says with a smile, “I know this is a lot for you, and I’ll take whatever I can off your shoulders. And please tell me if I say something that doesn’t feel right for you.” 

Somehow, Noah had thought that everything would change now. And sure, things do feel a little different. But not in the way that Noah had thought. Maya doesn’t look at her differently, doesn’t treat her differently. Maybe she’s a little more affectionate at the moment, but Noah can’t complain about that. 

She loves waking up with Maya wrapped around her, loves feeling the kisses she presses against her skin when they’re still drowsy and barely roused from sleep. They’ve always been soft like this with each other. Maya has always showered them with so much affection and love. She’s always called her pretty, but now it scratches that spot in the back of Noah’s brain like little else does. 

“Have you thought about telling them yet?” Maya asks, carding her fingers through Noah’s hair. 

She looks up at Maya and finds nothing but that softness she’s grown to love so much. 

“I should probably do it sooner rather than later. Just in case, you know? I don’t think anyone’s going to be weird about it, but you can never know.”

“If someone is getting weird about it, they’re not worth your time or energy.” Maya says softly, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I know it’s scary, though. Maybe you could start with Nick?”

“Can you stay with me when I call him?”

“Of course.” she taps her finger against the tip of Noah’s nose, “It’ll go fine, though. You know Nicky. He loves you.” 

Maybe that’s the scary thing about this. 

The dynamic between her and Nick never changed, they’ve grown up sure, but in their essence they’ve always been the same. Deep down, she knows that things with Nick will go fine, but she can’t deny the lingering fear. 

Noah decides to give herself the weekend to prepare. They’ll call Nick on Monday morning and just get it over with. 

As daunting as this is, they know that they’ll have to tell him eventually. The rest of the band needs to know at some point, although they’re really not looking forward to informing the label. Noah has already made up their mind about not wanting to address this more than necessary. They don’t want a big statement unless it is absolutely necessary. They’re sure that people will want to know more, but right now, Noah really doesn’t want to elaborate on how or why they came to this conclusion. 

As much as they know that they have benefitted from hearing other people's stories, they don’t quite feel prepared to elaborate on the mental agony of the past few months. 

Maya had brought up the rather touchy subject of therapy again, only this time Noah hadn’t protested it as much as she had before. 

It’s probably a good idea. 

Talking to Maya about this helps, but there’s only so much she can do before she reaches the end of her admittedly limited knowledge. And really, Noah doesn’t want to load even more onto her shoulders. 

Noah spoons another blob of hummus onto the plate. 

They have an afternoon of movies planned. Noah is happy to be away from band related things for a little bit. They’ve been working on the album with a lot more intention recently, but for the moment Noah needs to think about other things. 

A pair of arms wraps around her middle. 

“Is that the good hummus?”

Noah hums in response. 

“Do we have those caramelised onion crackers too?”

“I got a bag when I went to the store earlier.”

Maya doesn’t need to know yet that they got two just in case. 

“You are the best.” Maya presses a kiss to her cheek, “Thank you, sweet girl.” 

Noah tenses in her embrace. 

Sweet girl. 

They’d loved it when Maya had referred to them as sweet boy. Hearing the term like this feels – surprisingly good. 

Noah hadn’t put a lot of thought into that side of things. She’d been so busy figuring out that boy wasn’t for her that she hadn’t considered if girl was the right thing. 

“Noah?” Maya asks quietly, “I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay. I know we haven’t talked about that yet. It just – it just kinda slipped out.” 

They’re not opposed to it. 

Right now, it feels terrifying, but Noah has learnt that these things only feel scary because they’re new. 

“It’s okay.” they reply, still somewhat absent-minded, “I think I like it.” 

“You think?” 

“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just new, and I’m not really used to it yet.” 

Maya kisses her cheek once again, “I know it’s a lot. You’re doing a lot of new things at once at the moment. I’m more than happy to keep reminding you that you’re the prettiest girl, if that’s what you need.” 

Noah wriggles her way out of Maya’s grasp, turning around so that they can look at her properly. 

“If I’m the prettiest girl, what does that make you?” 

“You tell me.” the little smirk on Maya’s lips makes her pulse speed up. 

“Can we settle on a tie?” Noah places her hand on Maya's waist, easing her closer. 

“I think we can arrange that.” 

Maya pushes up onto the tips of her toes to kiss Noah again. The kiss teeters on the edge of becoming more, but Maya pulls away before her hands have a chance to wander around Noah’s frame. 

“And now get that snack plate ready, I want to start our film.” 

Monday eventually rolls around, and somehow Noah doesn’t feel less nervous. In fact, she thinks that she’s somehow even more nervous about the whole thing. 

She had texted Nick before breakfast to ask if he had time for a call later. 

They’d barely managed to get all of their breakfast down, but Maya had insisted that they should eat at least a little bit. 

“It’ll be okay. You’ve known Nick long enough to know that this won’t change how he sees you.” Maya gives their hand a little squeeze as she speaks, “I’m here as back up.” Noah draws in a deep breath before they tap on Nick’s name. 

It feels like forever until he finally picks up the call. 

There’s a little bit of talk about the album and Nick complains about being stuck on one song before he eventually remembers that Noah probably had something they wanted to discuss. 

“Did you want something specific?” 

Noah swallows a breath and Maya gives them a reassuring nod. 

“Actually, I did –” they pause, having suddenly forgotten everything they’d planned to say.

They find Maya’s eyes and the softness within them. She mouths a you got this at her, and Noah wants to believe her so desperately. 

“You know how I’ve always kinda struggled with how I look?” she starts, hoping that Nick remembers the times he had to talk them out of the spirals of self-hatred. 

“Sure do.” 

“So – I didn’t know what it was until recently. Maya helped me figure this out – or at least start to figure it out. I – fuck, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Nick speaks up after a long moment, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be okay. If whatever you’ve figured out makes you feel better about yourself, that’s good news for me.” It’s enough to make their chest feel a little lighter. 

Noah decides to bite the bullet then, rip off the band-aid. 

“I’ve been using they and she as pronouns for a little while now, and I don’t think that I’ve ever felt better about myself.”

Noah bites her lip so hard that she thinks that she’ll draw blood. 

She can hear Nick moving around in the background, and her heart almost sinks a little. 

“Sorry I had to find a tissue.” he sniffles, “I am – so proud of you. I don’t know what it took to get to that point, but I can’t imagine that it was easy.”

Hearing Nick’s support brings the tears right back. 

“Noah – is that still right or –?” 

“Name stays. Just a different label.” “I mean that. I’ve never been more proud of you. This — by the way — doesn’t change a thing between us. You’re still my best friend, and I’ll still tell you when you’re talking shit.”

Noah laughs between the tears that still run across their cheeks, “I’m counting on that.” 

They give Nick a little recap of the last few months. Nick apologises more than once for adding to the mess of feelings in their head, but Noah quickly waves him off. 

He couldn’t have known. 

They fall back into their usual banter fairly quickly. Maya leaves them alone soon after, pressing a quick kiss to Noah’s cheek before she excuses herself. 

It’s comfortable, familiar. 

Nick has always been a safe person, and in retrospect, Noah isn’t sure why she was so scared of this call. 

“Have you told the others yet?” Nick asks after a while. 

“You’re the first – well, second.” 

They can practically see the proud look on Nick’s face. 

“They’ll be good with it too, you know? We’ll figure out how to approach this with the public side of the band together. You’re not alone with that. And if someone is awful about it, we’ll sic Bryan on them.”

Knowing that Nick is on her side so unconditionally means the world to her. It means that she’ll have one more person to support her when she tells the next person. And that makes it less scary. 

An afternoon of gaming later, Noah feels decidedly more relaxed. Knowing that Nick is so very normal about it feels good. He does stumble a few times, but this is a change for him too. Nick has only known her as one thing, it’ll take him a moment to get used to it too. 

When Noah leaves their office later that day, Maya is nowhere to be seen. They check their phone, to find a message that she’d gone out with Ellie to do a little shopping. 

Noah’s fingers hover over the screen for a long moment before they decide to send the message. 

Can you bring me something? Just something you’d think I’d like?

Like a treat? I was going to do that anyway <3

To wear

There’s a long beat of silence that makes their heart rate spike. 

Sure! I’ll keep an eye open. Are you looking for something specific?

Not really. I have no idea what would suit me. 

I’ll get you something pretty <3 I’m bringing food on the way back. 

How did things with Nick go in the end? Everything good? 

Everything good 

Maya eventually returns with a few bags and a few styrofoam boxes of take out. Noah gets her usual kiss on the cheek before Maya even sets her things down. 

The reason for this surprise shopping trip apparently was that Ellie’s sure that her partner will propose over the weekend, and she wanted to have something to wear just in case. Hearing how many of their friends are moving towards that phase of life makes Noah wonder when they’ll take that step. They know that they can’t see themselves with anyone else but Maya, but there’s so much going on right now that adding a wedding to the mix wouldn’t be ideal. It’ll happen when the time is right. 

Noah’s already surprised that they’re thinking about a wedding in the first place. But that’s what being in love does, Noah supposes. 

After their late lunch, Maya sets to unpacking all of her bags. 

“I hope I guessed the sizes right. This might be a little trial and error.” She explains as she pulls a flimsy looking shirt out of one of the bags, “You’ll have to have a look on your own eventually. But I thought this might be a good place to start.” 

She hands Noah a stack of clothes. 

Maya had stuck to a simple black colour palette, which Noah is honestly thankful for. None of it looks too out there, although they don’t know how to feel about the see through shirt. 

“Give it a try.” 

Noah thinks she sounds a little nervous, and really she gets it. 

This is a big thing.

She feels awfully nervous too. 

“I’m gonna — be in the bedroom. I’ll — be back.” 

Noah feels a little awkward when she walks off to their bedroom. This isn’t as high-stakes as the skirt was. Maya had picked up a nice-looking pair of trousers for her. The shirt was the actually out there thing. She strips down to her underwear, the boxers are starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe there’s an in-between option that they can go for instead. 

The trousers fit comfortably, although they are a little short at the legs – nothing new, though. As she picks up the shirt, something else tumbles from it. Noah recognises it as something Maya wears under similar shirts. The idea of having their chest on display like this doesn’t feel too appealing at the moment. 

They slip the thing over their head. It’s a little constricting at first, the fabric hasn’t really stretched yet, and it feels uncomfortably tight. Noah is willing to chalk that up to them just not being used to wearing these things. 

Their fingers tremble when they unbutton the shirt – blouse? — and pull it over their shoulders. The fabric is so soft. In a way, Noah is glad that Maya had removed all the tags beforehand. They don’t want to know how expensive this all was. 

Somehow this doesn’t look like a lot. 

Something is missing. 

Noah cracks open the door, poking their head through the gap, “Can you help me?” 

They hear her steps approaching from a different part of the house, quickly coming towards them. 

“Everything okay?” 

“I don’t know how to make this look good.” Noah says quietly. 

“If you let me in, I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

Noah steps back from the door, allowing her into the room. She suddenly feels a little shy about this. 

“Can I?” Maya asks. 

Noah gives a nod in response. 

She starts to tuck and adjust the shirt. She rolls up the sleeves a little, undoes a few buttons. Noah lets her work in peace, just quietly watching as the image in the mirror changes. Maya pulls a belt from their side of the closet. She has Noah put it on, while she digs through her jewellery box. 

“Sit down for me? You’re too tall.” Maya says with a soft smile, “Can’t reach you.” 

They slump down on the edge of their bed. Maya comes to stand in front of them. One of her hands finds Noah’s cheek, forcing her to look up. 

“How are you feeling, love?” 

“A lot in one day.” Noah replies, “But this is nice.” 

“Is it?” she leans down to kiss Noah, “I’m glad. How would you feel about a little jewellery? Just for a little flavour?”.

“Sure.” 

Maya moves back just a little, allowing her to clasp two of her necklaces around Noah’s neck. Once she’s done, she sits down next to them. Her head drops to Noah’s shoulder. 

They make a pretty picture together. 

Noah always thought that they look good together. Maya’s softness, mixed with their still rough edges, works so perfectly. They don’t think that they want to be quite as feminine as Maya, at least not right now. She did like wearing the dress, but for the moment, this feels safer. 

“I really do have the prettiest girlfriend.” Maya says after a while. 

Noah’s insides warm. 

She’s still not entirely used to it. 

“We’re not having this discussion again.” They reply quickly. 

Maya fixes their eyes in the mirror, “I stand by what I said.” 

Noah breaks into a smile that Maya quickly mirrors. 

They lean over to pull Maya in for a kiss. 

The kiss quickly devolves into more, with Noah leaning over her. She’s missed this. Feeling so detached from herself has made this side of their relationship so difficult. The added anxiety hadn’t helped either. 

Noah lets her hands wander up the sides of her body. It feels a little as if she’s never done this before. Her lips skate down the length of Maya’s neck, teeth grazing against the soft skin there. The perfume she put on this morning floods into Noah’s senses. They can’t tell exactly what it smells like, but it's soft and warm and comforting. 

Maya’s hands thread into her hair.

“Baby.” Maya’s voice barely breaks through the fog in their head. 

Noah peels themself away from her skin. 

“Are you sure about this?” she asks softly. 

“Gotta show you how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me, don’t I?” Noah replies, feeling herself smile around the words, “You’ve done so much for me.”

She resumes her trail of kisses along Maya’s neck. Noah lets herself sink to the carpet in front of the bed. They’ve done this so often, but it still feels so new in this moment. 

They ease Maya out of her shorts, pulling her underwear down with them. 

They kiss their way up the inside of her thigh, just like they’ve always done. She leaves her pretty marks on Maya’s skin. 

It’s been too long since she got to do that. 

Noah savours the first kiss she places against her folds. She stays where she is for a moment, lingering in the feeling. It takes her a moment to find her rhythm again, but once she does, Maya quickly turns into a mess of moans. Her hand is tight in Noah’s hair, keeping them in place. 

“Noah.” She sighs, “Make me feel so good, my love.” 

Noah lets out a whine against her. 

They sink further against Maya, wrapping their lips around the little bud of nerves. The noises Maya makes only spur them on further. 

Noah pours every bit of emotion that has gathered up over the last few months into this. Everything to show her love just how grateful she is for all the patience and grace. 

They curl a single finger into her, drawing another pretty sigh from Maya. One finger quickly becomes two. It’s been too long since they’ve felt Maya come undone at her hands. 

They can tell that Maya won’t last much longer. The pitch of her moans is already rising steadily, and they can feel her clenching around their fingers. Noah keeps up her tempo, working her closer and closer towards her climax. 

She can’t wait to feel her falling apart. 

Noah doesn’t have to wait much longer. Just a few passes of her fingers and tongue later, she feels Maya pulse around her. She keeps herself buried in her warmth, carefully lapping at her while she falls apart. 

The hand in Noah’s hair tightens almost painfully. 

They’re pulled away a few moments later. 

Noah drops their head against Maya’s thigh, drawing in a deep breath. They haven’t felt this breathless in a good while. But seeing Maya so blissed out above them makes it with worth it. 

Maya looks down at her with a barely there smile playing on her lips, “Thank you, my love.”

Noah presses a kiss to the skin of her thigh, “Thank you.”

“Do you – will you let me make you feel good too?”

Noah hates how hesitant she sounds. 

And they feel even worse when they shake their head, “I have no issue doing this for you, but anything to do with my – you know – makes me feel a little off right now. I’m sorry.” 

Maya’s hand combs through her hair so gently, “Don’t be sorry, love. It’s okay. I want you to feel good, and if you don’t want that right now, that’s okay.” 

Her hand settles on their cheek and Noah leans into her touch.  

“How about we get into something comfy and watch a movie or something?” she asks softly, “I think we still have a tub of the nice chocolate ice cream.” 

They must have missed the text.

Jolly doesn’t usually show up unannounced like this. She can hear them talking in the living room, but the words don’t quite make it through the door. 

Noah feels the panic rising in their chest. 

This is not how they had planned it. 

They’d made a whole elaborate plan on how they wanted to tell the boys. She wanted to do it on her own terms, decide when and how she wanted to tell them. 

This isn’t what she wanted. 

Noah’s breathing picks up.  

Their chest feels so awfully tightly. It hasn’t felt this tight in weeks. 

She tries her hardest to keep herself centred. She still doesn’t have a fool-proof method to stop the panic. 

Maya helps the most. 

She can’t always have Maya with her, even if that’s what she wants. 

Their phone buzzes, catching her attention. 

She reaches for it with the shakiest hands. Their fingers tremble when they unlock their phone. 

Jolly’s here I told him you were in a meeting. Do you want me to tell him to come back later?

Just give me a moment. 

This wasn’t how Noah had planned to tell Jolly. They would have liked a bit more time to prepare, but maybe it can’t always be how they want it to be. 

Noah gives themself a quick once over on the webcam. She’d needed to feel a little more confident today. The subtle make-up she’d put on that morning had given her the boost she’d needed to make the day a little easier, but now she has to face the prospect of Jolly seeing her like this. 

They knew it would happen at some point, but maybe she would have liked a little more time to prepare. 

Maya will be there as a buffer. 

Jolly will be okay with it. He’ll be okay with it. 

She steels herself for it. 

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine. 

They draw in another deep breath. 

Noah can hear their muffled conversation behind the door. 

It’s terrifying. 

But this is who they are and sooner or later, they’ll have to find out. Sooner or later, everyone will see them. 

And she wants them to see. 

Rip off the band-aid, Noah tells herself. 

They open the door. 

Jolly and Maya are so caught up in their conversation that they don’t immediately notice them entering. Noah decides to just find a spot next to Maya as if nothing at all has changed. 

Jolly stops mid-sentence and gives them a once over. 

“This is new.” He states. 

“Not that new.” Noah replies. 

Maya barely manages to contain her laughter. 

“Well, it’s new to me.” Jolly still looks a little perplexed, and Noah does feel a little bad for leaving him in the dark like this. 

He’s obviously trying to decide how to approach this, and he’s very clearly having a tough time with it. 

“I — this isn’t how I had planned to do this at all, but you’re here now, and I can’t be in control of this all the time. I had a little realisation a while back and —” Noah reaches for Maya’s hand for support, “I’ve been using she and they as pronouns, and it’s been really good for me.”

Maya squeezes their hand as if to say well done. 

They watch Jolly absorb the information. 

“Are you happy?” He asks then. 

Noah doesn’t have to think about it at all. 

“I don’t think that I’ve ever been happier.”

Jolly looks at them for a long moment before he smiles. 

“That’s the important thing. I’m happy for you.” The genuine warmth that comes from him ushers the last bits of panic from their shoulders, “Anything I need to keep in mind? Do I need to change your name in my phone?”

Noah shakes their head, “Name stays.” 

“You know the label is going to love this, right?” Jolly suddenly sounds rather serious, “There’s a non-zero chance that they’ll try to centre all the marketing for the album around it.”

Noah hadn’t exactly thought this far. In fact, they hadn’t thought about the label at all. 

“If you don’t want that, we’ll make that clear. You know we won’t leave you alone with this. We’re all with you.” 

Noah didn’t expect him to react differently, but just as it had been with Nick, it's good to have confirmation. 

The conversation goes on and eventually drifts off into the actual reason for Jolly’s visit. They eventually move over into the studio, getting lost in the track they’ve been working on. 

It’s been a good while since they’ve had the option to work together like this. With the lockdown and the move, they’ve done most of the work on the album remotely. Actually being in the same room is good. 

They’re bouncing around ideas as if nothing has changed at all, and Noah is honestly glad that Jolly isn’t making a big deal out of this. She thinks that she catches him looking at her with a somewhat contemplative look. 

And she gets it. 

This is a big thing – not just for her, but for all of them. 

All of their livelihoods depend on this band. 

This will, inevitably, affect all of them. 

“Noah?” 

They look up from where they’ve zoned out. 

“I know this is a big thing, but I promise you that it’ll be fine. The band will be fine. If someone has an issue with you figuring out who you are, they can get lost. We don’t need people like that.” Jolly places a hand on their shoulder, “You will always be one of us. Different pronouns and clothes won’t change that.”

Noah quickly finds herself wrapped up in a tight hug. 

She lets herself sag against Jolly. 

The tears come a moment later. 

Jolly lets them cry until their shoulders stop shaking. 

“We’ll be fine. This is scary, but it’ll be fine. You’re not alone. We’re all here for you. I imagine that Maya did most of the heavy lifting with you, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. Doesn’t matter what time it is. I hope you know that was the case before this, too.”  

“Thank you. Really.” 

Jolly waves his hand dismissively, “Not for that. This is just being a good friend. Should we get this finished, or do you want to get back to it later?” 

“Do you want to stay for lunch? I think Maya’s making some baked thing.” 

Jolly naturally stays. 

And while the recipe Maya tried out didn’t work out like she had planned, they still get a good laugh out of it. It’s not entirely dreadful, Noah thinks, but they know that Maya will be a little disappointed by it. 

They’re cleaning up the dishes when Jolly leans into Noah’s space again. 

“Before I forget. Who else have you told? I don’t want to accidentally mention this to someone before you get a chance to tell them yourself.” 

“Just you and Nick.” Noah replies, “And Maya, of course.” 

Jolly nods, “Good. Just making sure. This is not my news to spread around. I’m sorry if this happened before you were ready for it. I just happened to be in the area, and it was easier to stop by then text you.” 

“It’s okay. I can’t control how it happens every time. Sometimes people are just going to find out and I have to deal with that.” 

“Remember that we have to start thinking about the album rollout soon. We can control how people find out to an extent, but eventually, it’ll be out of our grasp.” 

There are a lot of things Noah hasn’t really considered yet. 

In a way, it’s a clean break. 

They’re coming back with a new album and things will just be a little different. 

It’s like Jolly said. If people have an issue with this, they can stay away. The right people will stay, and maybe a few new ones will join them too. 

Work on the album goes well. Jolly comes over a few more times to finish the last few tracks. Overall, Noah is more than happy with it. The album has turned out more introspective than they had planned, but then again, things have been rather tumultuous. 

With Davis clued in too, they’ve started working on merchandise and art.

Noah has decided to rip off another band-aid and sent a text to Matt letting him know.

Thankfully, Matt seems quite okay with it all and immediately returns to business after acknowledging the news. 

Folio is a different story. They’d called him about a week earlier and he’s still asking questions. 

It’s endearing. 

They all have their own ways of showing their support, and Noah appreciates all of it. 

Noah shifts where they’re settled against Maya’s side. They’re rewatching Avatar again, meaning that won’t miss anything if she allows herself to drift off into thought once in a while. 

She had felt so caged in and isolated before she had opened up about to Maya about how she felt, all of out of fear of being even more alone. And now she’s sure that she’s never felt more loved before. Even with this big change, their people still love them. 

Maya lets out a huff. 

Noah turns to look at her. 

“Nick’s calling. He’s so worried that he’ll say or do something wrong.” she says with a sigh, “Let me get up? I won’t be long.” 

As much as Noah doesn’t want to let her go, she reluctantly lets herself slump over to the other side of the sofa. 

Maya gives their hand a quick squeeze as she gets up. She answers the call just as she slips into her studio. Noah knows that she’s probably just going to reassure Nick that he can’t really do anything wrong, but her curiosity gets the better of her. 

They follow a moment later, just to listen in for a moment. 

“Nick – I promise you that you can’t do anything wrong. This is new for all of us. And I know that you don’t want to hurt her, but don’t you think that Noah knows that you won’t say something hurtful on purpose?” Maya asks with a hint of humour in her voice, “You've known them for how long now? — Exactly. It’ll be fine. I promise. — No, Nick, this is not annoying. It’s okay. I’d rather have you ask questions than make assumptions. And I know Noah feels the same way. You can’t imagine how much knowing that you’re all on their side means to them. They were so scared that somehow one of you wouldn’t be – I know – but I’m glad that it all worked out. Won’t lie, for a while, when I didn’t know what was going on yet, I didn’t know what she was doing to do. I’d never seen them like that and it really scared me. But, thankfully, everything worked out. We’ll see you next week, right? Good –” 

Noah quickly makes their way back to the sofa before Maya hangs up.  

They know that they’d worried her, but sometimes it slips their mind just how much anguish they put Maya through. 

She emerges a short while later and sinks down next to them again, “You wanna get comfy in bed? We have a big day planned for tomorrow.” 

They’re only going shopping tomorrow, but Noah has made the plan to at least try to buy something more feminine. They want what they’ll wear on stage to go with the vibe of the album, and that means new clothes. 

It’ll be a challenge. 

She’s stolen a few things from Maya, but it’s just not the same thing. Borrowing Maya’s clothes helped, but she wants to find her own style. 

“Early night sounds good.” Noah agrees. 

Somehow this is more daunting than Noah had expected. This isn’t their first time going out since they’ve made the switch, but they’ll be out for a while and there’s very little space for them to hide away if they do get overwhelmed. Having Maya at their side does help, but even Maya can’t make all of their anxieties disappear. 

The fact that they’re here to buy more clothes for her doesn’t help either. They try to keep telling themselves that it's only clothing. 

It’s not that big of a deal. 

Noah follows Maya through the racks. They don’t really know what they’re looking for, which doesn’t make this easier. Maya keeps holding out random things to them, but so far, nothing has felt right. 

Noah plucks a shirt from one of the racks. It’s similar to the cropped ones that they’ve borrowed from Maya. 

“That’s cute.” Maya notes, “Could be fun with that one button up you’ve never worn and some shorts.”

Noah tries to imagine it. They know the shirt Maya is talking about. They’d wanted to try it, but it had never looked quite right. Maybe this could work. 

“You know – somehow didn’t think that shorts were an option.” 

Maya smiles so sweetly then, “We live in L.A. babe. When was the last time you’ve seen me in jeans?”

“So, where do we get shorts?” 

Somehow that seems to break the dam. 

They wander from store to store after that, and Noah tries her best to not feel self-conscious about how much money they’re spending or the fact that she’s carrying bags of clothes that will make her feel so much better about herself. 

To their surprise, people don’t seem to be too fussed even when Noah browses the racks of the women’s section on their own. 

Maya wants to make one final stop before they get lunch. As they approach the store, Noah realises where they’re going. They’ve accompanied Maya here before, so eager to get a peek into her dressing room. Everything Maya had bought from this shop had turned their brain into soup. 

Coming here now feels a little scary. 

Noah can’t quite picture what their body would look like in underwear like this. They’ve barely managed to graduate to things with less coverage than their usual boxers. The lacy little things Maya wears still feel very daunting. 

They reach for her hand, trying to find a little comfort for their frayed nerves. 

“You don’t have to get anything if you don’t want to. I just want to have a look at the new arrivals.”  

Noah is content to just watch while Maya browses. They watch her pick up a few things to try on and just out of curiosity, Noah decides to examine some of the items a little closer. 

The first thing that catches their eye is a deep red set. The panties are fairly high-waisted, something she likes seeing on Maya. There are two matching top options – a bra with cups and something she’s sure Maya has called a bralette before, but who really knows. 

She picks up the top. The fabric is so soft between their fingers. They don’t know if this would even fit them. 

“Found something you like?” Maya presses up behind them. 

Noah gives a nod, “I just don’t know if it’ll fit.” 

Maya eyes the garments, taking it from their hands, “Should be okay. Do you wanna get this?”

“I want to try it at least.” they say quietly. 

“We can buy it and if you decide that you don’t like it for whatever reason we’ll figure something out.” 

They watch as Maya pays for their items. 

Noah can’t quiet decide if she’s anxious or excited about this. 

The more they’ve been actively exploring this side of them, the more comfortable they’ve become with it. Some of the insecurities they’ve held before suddenly make a lot of sense. With the realisation that boy had never been the right thing for them, a few had simply disappeared. Sure, in turn they’d discovered new things to be insecure about, but in the grand scheme of thing Noah has never felt more comfortable in their body. 

Noah can hardly contain their excitement when they get back home. She’s only tried on a few things at the stores, but some of the more out there things were reserved for the safety of their home. They’ve stuck to trousers for the most part, but the shirt options they’ve picked are a little more bold. 

But there’s something Noah is particularly excited to try on. Throughout the drive home, Noah has come to the conclusion that their feelings towards underwear lean more towards excitement. Their hope is that it’ll make them feel a little bit better about their bare body. It won’t make everything disappear, but maybe it’ll give them a little bit more confidence. And maybe it’ll spark something else too. 

Noah pluck their bag from the lingerie store and disappear into the bathroom, while Maya is distracted by something else. 

She wants to try this on her own first – just in case. This is still a big thing, after all. Noah strips down to their underwear. They’ve taken to wearing soft, unlined sports bras just for the feeling. There’s nothing to cover, but the extra step makes them feel a little more feminine. 

So far, it has worked. 

They take a moment to look at themselves. Their body hasn’t changed much, there are things they wish were different, but they’ve come to realise that these things don’t happen overnight. Noah has considered her options and while she hasn’t settled on anything yet, she has brought some of it up to Maya for a second opinion.

Noah finally shimmies out of their underwear. 

The new stuff doesn’t look quite as scary now that they’re in the safety of their home. Their hands still shake a little when they pull the panties up their thighs. The material feels so different on their skin. Noah adjusts themselves, trying to get comfortable in this. It’s clear that this isn’t made for their anatomy, but it feels good regardless. The high-waisted fit of the panties gives their waist a little more definition, and with the way the legs are cut out they actually feel as if there’s shape to their form. Noah tugs on the bralette, this isn’t too different from the things they’ve been wearing for a couple of weeks now. The fabric makes a world of a difference, though. The colour looks beautiful against their skin, and they like how the see-through fabric shows off their tattoos. 

They hear Maya call their name from the bedroom. 

Noah gives herself a final once over in the mirror before she pulls her shirt back over her frame. She loves when Maya does this, and showing herself off like this feels right.  

She opens the door to the bedroom, stepping out into the room. 

“Have you seen the —” Maya stops as soon as she sees them. 

Her eyes drift across Noah’s frame. 

They feel brave today. It’s taken them a while to feel comfortable showing their body again, even just to Maya. But today they feel good about themselves. Seeing Maya so affected by them definitely helps. 

“Did you try on the underwear?” she asks softly. 

Noah nods. 

Maya meets them in the middle of the room. She pulls Noah in for a kiss. Her hand is so soft on the side of their face. Maya’s unoccupied hand plays with the hem of their shirt, and Noah knows exactly what she wants. They’ve done the same to her. 

“Can I see?” there’s a trace of hesitance in her voice, but the curiosity outweighs it easily. 

Noah has long made up her mind. She wants Maya to see – to touch. 

They reach for the bottom of the shirt and slowly pull it upwards. Maya’s hands practically fly to their waist as soon as it is revealed to her. They feel her eyes drifting across their body, trying to take all of them in. 

“Noah.” she sighs, “You – you look so beautiful.” 

They meet in another kiss. Noah feels herself being pulled in by her waist, as Maya’s hand shifts to the small of her back. They shove their hand under Maya’s shirt, suddenly desperate to feel skin too. 

It’s been a while since they’ve been close like this and admittedly, Noah has missed it. 

Maya carefully walks them back towards the bed. Noah lets herself fall onto the mattress with a laugh. Maya quickly straddles her waist, leaning down to kiss her again. 

“Are you okay with this?” she asks between the kisses they trade. 

Noah sighs out a yes. 

They need to feel her hands on their body, need the gentle affection Maya is so willing to give them. 

From their lips, Maya begins a trail of kisses down their neck. She leaves her marks there, sucking a pretty bruise just under the edge of their jaw. Noah’s brain is already so full of fuzz. They feel hands drifting across their body, fingers tracing along the lines of their tattoos. 

Maya’s hands come to cover their chest. There isn’t anything to cup there, but the idea of it alone is enough to make Noah sigh. A thumb drags across their nipple, before she tugs at it just a little. The sting of it pulls a sound from Noah’s throat. 

Noah tangles a hair into Maya’s hair as she continues to descend along her body. They can feel the excitement bubbling in the middle as she trails her kisses along their tummy. 

“Can I touch you?” Maya asks softly. 

“Please.” she chokes out, “Please – it’s been so long.” 

Maya lets out a quiet chuckle, before she lets her hand wander lower. For now, it stays above her underwear. She places her hand above Noah’s crotch. Her touch is light, giving Noah a moment to adjust to it. 

Maya continues to kiss across their chest and tummy while the pressure of her hand slowly increases. Noah’s already halfway to hard and they’ve barely done anything at all. 

“Tell me if something feels off, okay? I want you to feel good.” Maya looks up at her with such a devastating softness. 

Maya slowly works her hand into their panties. Noah sighs when her hand curls around their cock. 

“I almost don’t want to take these off you.” Maya muses, as her fingers trace across the waistband of the panties, “You look so pretty in them.” 

“I feel pretty.”  

“Good.” She presses a kiss against their tummy, “Now let me make you feel good.” 

She carefully tugs the panties down until Noah’s cock comes free. 

Noah makes a little high-pitched sound when it slaps up against her tummy. Maya’s hand immediately returns to her, setting a slow, but steady rhythm. She continues peppering Noah’s skin with the softest kisses. Noah doesn’t even try to stop herself from moaning. She knows that Maya loves to hear her sounds, and it all feels too good anyway. 

The brush of Maya’s tongue against the head of their cock makes their hips tip forward. It’s been months since they’ve felt anything except the occasional rushed touch of their own hand on their skin. 

Noah whines when she takes the head between her lips. It’s almost overwhelming. The warmth of her mouth erases practically every thought in Noah’s head. Maya has always had that effect on them, but it’s so much more intense now. They drop their head back against the pillow, allowing themself to get lost in the sensation. 

Their hand tangles into Maya’s hair, less to direct her and more to keep her close. Noah decides then that she needs to feel more. While the mouth of her love feels good, she needs to feel all of her. 

“Maya.” she sighs, “I – fuck – let me feel you. Please. I wanna be inside –” the words come out broken up and breathy, but she can’t bring herself to worry, “Please baby.” she chokes out, “Please let me feel you. It’s been so long.” 

She hasn’t felt this desperate for her in a while.

Maya pulls away from them, but keeps her hand on their cock. 

“How do you want me?”

“Can you — on top of me.” Noah makes herself say between the soft sighs Maya pulls from her.

They watch as Maya undresses herself. She doesn’t make much of a show of it. And just a few moments later, she’s straddling Noah’s waist.

She reaches for their hand and guides it between her thighs. Noah dips her fingers between her folds. She’s soaked already. Maya sighs when their fingers sink into her. She’s so soft and warm, and Noah can’t wait to feel her wrapped around them again. It’s been far too long.

“Noah.” 

Hearing her sigh their name like that makes the warmth in their belly burn even hotter. They curl their fingers inside of her, pulling another moan from her. 

The need to feel her becomes too overwhelming then. 

“Think you’re ready?” She asks, finding herself sounding a little shaky. 

Maya nods, drawing in a stuttered breath. 

Noah slowly pulls their fingers from her. They guide the head of their cock towards her entrance. Their breath catches in their throat when they make contact, and Noah has to take a moment to stop themselves from coming undone then and there. Maya sinks down on her so, so slowly. 

She tangles their fingers together, holding on to Noah for dear life. Her eyes fall shut as she sinks lower. Noah thinks that she’s never been more beautiful. Her lips tremble, brows furrowed so slightly.

Maya pauses once she’s fully seated on top of Noah. She leans forward to meet kiss them. Her hand is so soft and warm against their cheek. It’s all so dizzying. 

“I love you so much, Noah.” she speaks against their lips, “My beautiful darling. My beautiful girl.” 

Their heart pounds in their chest. 

It still feels so novel, but god it feels good.

Noah pulls her back down for another kiss. 

“I love you.” Noah replies, lips spreading into a smile. 

Maya stays close for a moment longer, allowing both of them to settle just a little more. The soft kisses and words they exchange sear themselves into Noah’s mind. They know that Maya loves them, she shows it without shame. But in this moment, Noah feels so impossibly loved. 

Noah trails her fingers up the length of Maya’s back, pulling a little laugh from her. 

She grinds down against them, making both of them moan. 

The slow rhythm she sets makes Noah’s head swim. It’s a grind more than anything else, but it’s enough – more than enough, actually. 

Their hands are still interlaced, and Noah is glad to have that security. Their free hand roams across Maya’s thigh. Noah lets their eyes drift across her body from where they’re joined all the way up to her face. They find Maya already fixed on them, and they can’t possibly look away again. 

Noah doesn’t know how long they’ll last. 

Their constitution feels so worn and frayed already. Maya’s soft praise only pushes her further towards the edge.

“You feel so good.” she sighs, “Make me feel so good, my love.”

Noah wants to return the words and tell Maya how good she’s making her feel, but the words just won’t come. The only thing she can offer is a near wanton moan. 

Their hand grips into Maya’s thigh a little tighter as their hips pitch upwards. 

“You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?” she asks softly.

Noah gives another whine in response, “So close. You feel so good around me.”

Maya picks up her effort a little, now seemingly intent on bringing both of them to their climax. The warmth that spreads through them is unlike anything they’ve felt before. Feeling Maya clench around them makes their vision white out a little. 

They feel Maya tip forward against their chest at some point. They wrap their arms around her body, keeping her as close as possible to them. Their chests heave in unison. Noah is sure that they’ve never been more connected. 

Maya rests her head against their chest. With just a turn of their head, Noah can press their lips to her forehead. They stay like this for a long moment, just enjoying each other's warmth and presence. Noah hadn’t realised just how much they’ve missed this. Being close to Maya like this always made them feel more connected to her, and starving themself of this connection had impacted them more than they had previously thought. 

Half an hour later, they’re cuddled up in bed. 

Noah shuffles back against Maya’s chest. She wraps her arm around them, her hand settling on their tummy. Maya presses a kiss to their bare shoulder. 

Noah lets herself sink into the embrace, allowing it to envelop her entirely. Their nerves still buzz with the ecstasy of their high, but it's a pleasant, warm feeling. 

They doze off a little while later, entirely content and happy. 

Noah paces along the length of their living room. 

The article and the related posts will drop any moment and god she’s never been more nervous. This is the first time they’ll be seen in public since they’ve gone down this road. The pictures Bryan has taken are genuinely some of their favourites. 

Maya had helped her assemble a good look for this shoot. The new clothes and a little bit of make-up had done a world of a difference. Noah had felt incredibly confident that day. 

Right now, all she wants to do is sink into the ground until all of this is over. 

“It’s up.” Nick announces. 

Noah swears that she’s going to throw up. 

At this point, the actual album release will be a breeze. 

Maya wraps an arm around their middle. 

“It’ll be okay, love. You know that the important people are on your side.” she says quietly, “We all love you so much. I love you so much.” 

Noah pulls their phone from the pocket of their sweats. The tremble of their hand makes it almost impossible to unlock their phone. They navigate towards Instagram, fully knowing that some of the words will sting. 

They scroll through the comments, anticipating the vitriol. 

The first comment that catches their eye is the exact opposite of what they’d expected. 

this is so cool! i’m proud of them <3

i love seeing someone living as themselves

this rocks, haters can get fucked 

whoa i didn’t know noah went by they/she that’s dope!

There are a few odd comments that follow the usual bigoted pattern. The overwhelming majority is either just really excited to see them release new music or offering their support for Noah. 

“I told you they’d be good.” Nick calls from the other side of the room. 

There’s a little commotion about someone commenting that they’re only going in this direction because of Cyberpunk, but the room quickly quiets down again. 

Noah is set to make an appearance on a podcast with Jolly later that day. They know the person they’re supposed to talk to, and Noah is surprisingly excited to get to talk about the new album. They’ve worked hard on this and Noah knows that they’re all very proud of what they’ve created. Being able to talk about it after all this time feels good. 

For the first time since they’ve been doing interviews, Matt has requested that they’re sent the questions ahead of time, just so they can have a bit of control over what they’re asked. Noah knows that they won’t be able to avoid the topic entirely, but they don’t want it to become the main focus of every interview they do from now on. Which pronouns they use shouldn’t have anything to do with the music the band they’re in makes. Thankfully, this interviewer had stuck to the more important things. 

“Now, this new cycle comes with a lot of changes for you as a band.” he starts and Noah steels themselves for the inevitable question, “It seems like you’ve changed up your sound quite a bit from the snippets we’ve heard so far. Will the whole album lean into that kind of sound or will there be some of the heavier sound that we’re used to from you?” 

Noah let’s out the breath they’ve been holding as Jolly gives his answer. They chime in eventually, adding that they want to keep evolving their sound, both for their and their audiences' sake. To keep things interesting. 

Noah marks this day as a good one. 

Things could have gone quite a lot worse, all things considered. She tries not to think about the mountain of unanswered e-mails that still waits for her. They’ll work their way through them in the coming days.

They spend what’s left of the day together as a group. 

They don’t get nearly enough days to just hang out together any more. Having time with their friends without the looming obligations biting at their ankles is nice. 

For the rest of the evening, the band doesn’t matter, and they’re just a group of friends spending good quality time together. 

Watching the tickets for the tour sell out had been invigorating. It is just a small run of shows but knowing that they had sold out almost all of the shows had been a massive boost to their ego. 

The general reception of the new music had been good, and it had eased Noah’s nerves about the first show, at least a little bit. 

Now that the day has come, though, Noah feels impossibly nervous. They know that they’ve been a little irritable all day, but if anyone had been affected by it, they hadn’t made it known. 

Doors have opened by now, and Noah really should start to get ready. She’s kept herself busy with vocal warm-ups and administrative things. All that was left to do now was get dressed. 

Noah enters the dressing room, to find Maya sorting through their things. 

“There you are.” she says with a smile, “I was about to text you. Do you need help getting ready or do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Please stay?” Noah asks as they wrap their arms around her middle, “I think I might need a little help.” 

The outfit they’ve picked for this show is fairly neutral. With a few tricks, Maya had somehow managed to give their waist a little more definition. It’s not ideal yet, but it’s all in the works now. They’ve already made so much progress, and everything that is coming up now will only make things better. 

Noah sits down in front of the vanity. 

They’ve done this so often already, but right now, they can’t stop their hands from shaking. Maya pulls a chair up next to them, taking the brush out of their hand. 

“Let me help you, my love.” she says softly. 

Noah gladly turns their chair towards her. Maybe having this moment will make her feel a little calmer. 

“Didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, how did your last therapy session go?” Maya asks as she continues to work on their make-up. 

Noah had brought up a big question during the last session. They’d thought about it for a while. They had figured out very early on that the thing that had the biggest impact on their dysphoria was how boyish their body still felt. Noah has done what they could, and the logical next step is – as much as it scared them – hormones. 

They have brought it up with Maya before, but it had never been a firm decision. Maya had, naturally, been incredibly supportive of the idea. 

“I asked her about HRT.”

Maya stops moving then. She sets down the products in her hands. 

“You did? What did she say?” ​​

“She’s going to write me a note just in case. But she agrees that it’s the best option for me.” 

Maya breaks into a wide smile. She wraps them into a tight hug. Maya presses a plethora of kisses against the cheeks and lips. 

“That’s so good. I’m so happy for you.” 

Noah lets herself sink against Maya. Her support has been their biggest crutch during all of this. They don’t know what they would have done if they didn’t have Maya, or even worse if she hadn’t been supportive of them. Thankfully, Noah doesn’t have to worry about that. Somehow, she’s ended up with the best support system she could have asked for.

“Thank you, really.” Noah says finally, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” 

Maya pulls away from them just enough to look at them, “You’re my person, Noah. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. With maybe a few exceptions – I draw the line at murder.”

Noah can’t help but laugh at that. 

“I mean that. Watching you be so sad and unlike yourself during those first few weeks – I never want that again. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” 

Noah has to fight the tears. They’ve had this talk a few times, but it never fails to bring her to tears. 

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” Noah sniffles.

“I just need you to talk to me. Tell me when you need something. I can’t read your mind yet.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Noah leans in to steal a kiss from her, “I think we have to get going, though. Don’t wanna rush things. And Bryan will want to take a few more pictures.” 

Maya gives them another kiss before she continues to work on their make-up. 

Maya doesn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, but it’s enough to make them feel comfortable and confident. And mixed with the outfit, Noah feels more than ready to head out on stage again. 

As expected, Bryan snaps a few more pictures of all four of them. He has been taking candids all afternoon, and Noah is genuinely curious to see how Bryan has captured her. They all go about their own little routines in the last few moments before they go on stage. 

Noah stops by the last restroom before the stage, just to get a final glimpse at themself. So much, and at the same time so little, has changed. 

For the moment, the nerves outweigh any kind of excitement they feel. Noah’s sure that thing will settle once they’re actually one stage and the first song is underway. It’s always like that. 

They’re always impossibly nervous up until the moment they’re singing the first line. Noah finds her eyes in the mirror. 

She’ll be okay. 

Noah tugs at her shirt for a moment, makes sure that the buckle of her belt is centred. She fixes her hair, swipes a little speck of eyeshadow from her cheek. Noah wonders how long she can hide away here. 

They can hear them talking outside, they’re sure that they can hear Matt and Nick talking right in front of the door. Something about the last few shows selling out too. 

Noah decides that it’s time to stop stalling. 

She exits the restroom again and wriggles her way into their conversation. 

“What’s that about selling out?” they ask, draping their arm across Nicks shoulder. 

“Tour’s all sold out.” Matt announces, “Album’s selling like mad, too. At this point, we might even make a profit.”

Hearing that their coming out had no major negative impact on the band and their career takes a good chunk of weight off their shoulders. Nick pulls them into a half hug. 

A moment later, they’re all huddled up. Jolly says something about how they’ll be better than ever tonight, but Noah can barely hear him over the buzzing in their ears. They can hear the noise of the crowd, their excited cheers as the lights dim down. 

Folio’s excitement about getting back on stage bubbles over into her. 

This will be a good one. 

Just before they go on stage, they look back to see Maya coming up towards the side with Davis. 

All of her favourite people are here tonight. Everyone she loves is here to support them – to support her. 

As soon as they step foot on stage and the noise of the crowd fills their ears, they know that things will be okay. The show is unlike any they’ve played before. The energy in the room gives Noah drive to barrel through the setlist. 

And by the time the band takes their bows, Noah is sure of it all. 

Things will be okay. 

Noah is glad that they’ve decided against a big dinner with everyone after the show. Instead, they find themself curled up against Maya’s side while they devour their spread of takeout. The show flickering across the screen matters little, Noah is too lost in their own thoughts to pay attention to it. 

The night couldn’t have gone better. 

Being welcomed back with such open arms had superseded any expectation they’d had leading up to today. Sure, they’d hoped that people would be accepting or even welcoming, but the outpouring of love and support not just for her but for the whole band had meant the world to her. 

The thing that had really sealed it all was seeing Maya at the side of the stage. The pride and love they had found on her face had made it all worth it. 

Noah shifts against her, trying to get a little more comfortable. They’re exhausted beyond reason and here, with Maya so close, they’re about ready to clock out for the night. 

Maya presses an absent-minded kiss to the top of their head, as her arm tightens around their middle. 

This is all they need, Noah thinks. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland

[etclouie]

i loved your hotch fic from kinktober, could you write 2 and 20 from the first group of prompts please? the 50 prompts list

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; 2) “do you think things would be different?” “how so?” “i mean, if we hadn’t met at a strip club” and 20) “i love you” “i don’t care anymore” — from 50 dialogue prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; hotch x stripper!reader, uh kinda a breakup??, angst tho, that’s it really but if i missed any lmk

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; i got my car on friday, so i’ve been dealing with that mainly (sorry for not writing much)

— thank you for celebrating 600 with me || submissions are now closed

towards the end of your shift, Aaron had shown up at the club. 

you’d pulled him aside and outback, away from prying eyes and the nosey guys that would always try and keep you to their selves. 

but the look in his eyes told you that whatever had to say was serious, so you waited. 

he gave you a ride home, and his whole demeanour was avoidant. 

he stood in the doorway to your bedroom as you got changed, his eyes flicking from you and away again. a churning feeling in his gut as his eyes grey half lidded. 

his suit blazer had long been discarded, yet his shirt still remained creasless— his expression remained just as guarded as it usually was, but tonight the usual walls between them seemed a little thinner. 

you still had your heels on, the sound of them tapping against the hardwood floors mirroring the beat of your heart. 

for the past few months now, Aaron had been trying to balance his world with yours. 

he’d never been one for casual relationships, told you so when you first starting seeing each other—especially not with someone who’s life was so different to his, complicated in a sense. 

yet somehow, you both had found each other amidst the chaos. 

“do you think things would be different?”

his voice broke the silence, he hadn’t intended to speak aloud but the question had been sitting on his tongue for longer than he liked. 

glancing over your shoulder towards him, eyes quickly searching his for an answer you weren’t sure you were ready to hear. 

“how so?”

you asked, your tone measured but soft. you let your eyes pull away from him as you sat on the edge of the bed, finally peeling off your heels as he watched. 

he pushed off the doorframe and walked towards you slowly, staying a foot or two away. 

“i mean… if we hadn’t met at a strip club. if i hadn’t walked in that night, would we have still crossed paths?”

your fingers lingered on the intricacies of the heel, his words settling in as you placed the heel on the floor. 

hands moving to work off the other one, and for a long moment you didn’t answer. 

the truth was you’d thought about it too. 

your life before Aaron had been a series of stripped down, fleeting encounters. and as some would say, unsurprising for a woman who worked as a stripper— only for what you could offer in a few minutes of attention. 

but that night when he’d walked into the club with the rest of the team, it was different. there was something in the way his eyes lingered on you, not with judgment but instead curiosity. 

it was the first time in years you’d been seen, really seen. for who you actually were beneath the surface. 

and you hadn’t been able to shake it since. 

“i don’t know”

you finally said, voice tinged with uncertainty as you set the other heel down by the first. 

standing from the bed and moving through your dresser, pulling out clean pyjamas and setting them on top. 

“maybe it would’ve been easier, you know? if we hadn’t met that way. but at the same time, i’m not sure i’d want that. maybe it’s the only way it was supposed to happen”

you shrugged, finally turning to face him again. and you couldn’t help the sigh that pulled from your chest at the sight of him. 

he took another couple of steps closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth that always radiated off of him. 

“i don’t want to regret it”

he said softly, not just to you but to himself too. his eyes met yours, and the softness behind them remained but it was mixed with something else. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, the rawness in his voice hitting you harder than you expected. 

“you’re not regretting this, are you?”

his eyes searched yours again, for a long moment. the weight of his gaze felt heavy, like he was reading into every part of you and stringing together fragments of your past and present. 

finally, he exhaled a breath and shook his head. 

“no”

he told simply, but you sensed a ‘but’ coming. 

“but sometimes i wonder if we’re just living in two different worlds”

you took a step back from him, your back hitting the dresser and knocking something sat on top of it. 

the distance between you remained small, but it felt like a chasm. 

you’d always known this wasn’t easy.  ring with someone like Aaron, so tightly bound by duty and a life of danger and trauma—while you danced for men in dimly lit clubs for a living. 

you loved your job, even if others told you that you shouldn’t. but you couldn’t help but notice the wedge it had driven between you and Aaron as of lately. 

the silence between you grew heavier as you searched his eyes once more, the softness had dissipated and been replaced by something sadder. 

“i love you,”

you whispered, voice almost breaking slightly on the words. the admission felt like it carried a weight of its own, something you’d been holding onto for far too long. 

Aaron looked at you, but his expression hardened from its sadness seconds ago and the air seemed to crackle with a newfound tension. 

“i don’t care anymore”

he said, his voice tight almost as if it physically hurt to speak the words. 

you recoiled, a sharp sting of pain hitting your chest. you’d expected it, in a way. 

there was no way this relationship—your life— could be simple, no matter how much you tried to make it work. 

Aaron stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours and the hurt in his eyes was almost more painful than the words he’d spoken. 

“i’m sorry. i just.. i can’t keep pretending that this is okay. that it’s sustainable”

that stung. 

you couldn’t even pretend that it didn’t. 

but you nodded slowly, trying to keep the tears from pooling in your eyes. you had known deep down, that this day would come. but that didn’t make it easier. 

the man you loved, the one who had seen you beyond the stripping and the shadows, was telling you that it was time to let go. 

“i get it”

you whispered, your voice barely audible but the words felt final. 

“maybe this was just a chapter that ended too soon”

for a long moment the room was filled with nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, the tension so thick it could be cut through with a pair of scissors. 

finally, Aaron moved closer to you again. his large hand cradled your face, and despite the urge to pull away you let him. his thumb soothed across your cheek as he mumbled out to you. 

“i never wanted to hurt you, but sometimes i think loves just not enough”

your throat tightened and though you fought to keep yourself composed, your emotions broke free in the form of a single tear that escaped down your cheek. 

you wiped it away quickly, refusing to let him see how much it for at you. 

“i know”

you whispered softly, voice barely audible. 

“but it doesn’t change how i feel”

Aaron sighed, pulling you into his chest. his hand that held your face now lay on the back of your head as it lay against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding you despite everything. 

even though everything inside you screamed to stay, to fight for this love that you both knew had no clear future. 

in the end, some love stories were written with a beginning and an end that no one could control, no matter how hard you tried to keep the pages from turning. 

and it ate you up inside. 

but now, as he held you—all the pain and tears disappeared, if only for a moment. until he left, you still had him but once he did leave you knew all the pain would come rushing back all at once. 

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[naffeclipse]

Hey babe. I have been rereading your fic In Song Fish Amid the Stars. And ofcource I love Eclipse our little soft baby. But I have to say I love your world building. What I enjoyed especially was Y/n's relationship with Gregory. Not only I wholly loved his character and interpretation (how he grew up to be this kinda loner mechanic that had to have surfer cut) but also his dynamic with the main character! The fact that they were practically like siblings to each other always having each other's back. Even a small mention of their domestic moments (lending books, having meals togehter) melted my heart. And whenever I read this fic and come to the part of Y/n's disappearance from the boat, like damn. I can't imagine the despair Gregory felt, the desperate search that has no limits and ending in sight. After all the ocean is endless. The same goes for the relief when he found put y/ns home. So i have a question. Can we have insight into his point of view? His thoughts, his actions, what did he tell Freddy? How did he feel sailing back home without them? Was he falling apart thinking that his sibling is dead? Killed by the very thing they always feared? The thing he made them scared of (at least in his eyes).

Sorry for rant haha

I just live family fluff and their relationship is perfect.

Kisses

Ahhh, I'm rattling you! Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoy Gregory in SFATS!! He was very fun to write <3

Gregory was the one to discover Y/N's empty room on the ship, and his gut told him something was wrong. Not only were you not in bed, but you weren't sick in the bathroom or even hiding out somewhere to stop feeling the stormy waves. It didn't take long for him to confirm from a shiphand that you were missing—overboard.

And you've never swam in the ocean before.

All he could do at that moment was beg Freddy to start searching the sea. There wasn't time for guilt that first day. Once the big ship returned to the island, Gregory threw himself onto his boat and darted out to join the search with the leviathan.

He kept telling himself over and over that if anyone could find Y/N, it would be Freddy. The leviathan mer is magical, powerful, and big. Freddy can fix this. Gregory lost the parents he never knew, and now he was going to lose the only real human family he had, and he knew you. He has to give you back your old book he borrowed from you. You have to take it back.

But as the hours wanned on and Gregory tirelessly tread deeper and deeper waters, dread and fear began sinking their teeth into him. Freddy was very calm but concerned, the anchor to Gregory's storm. The fatherly mer kept Gregory going with hope despite the infinitely terrible chances.

Gregory was aware of Sun and Moon out in the sea due to a combination of Freddy spying the two colossal fish once or twice in the depths, and your own suspicious behavior, but they never once crossed his mind until he finally returned and caught news of your miraculous survival.

You're alive. He thought you looked like a wet, sopping cat who just barely survived drowning. You kind of were.

That's when the guilt returned to him in full force, and it almost bowled him over. He had to confess right then and there that he never should have forced you onto that boat. He thought he was helping. He thought he could make you less afraid but all he did was nearly get you killed.

You and Freddy told him in the same breath that it wasn't your fault.

But then you kept talking. Or rather, you kept avoiding an answer to his question: how you got back to the island in one piece. Freddy suggested so quietly within Gregory's mind that perhaps your mers are to be thanked for the rescue. Your mers.

And he thought you were a big ol' scared cat. You have a giant mer, well, two, just like him.

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: the rat king (mini-series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, cults and religion mentioned, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: hi!! just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter and sticking with me!! i know i hadn't posted in forever with being busy with uni and all so it really made me happy that people still remembered this fic. this chapter (once again) was supposed to cover a lot more but i got carried away lol, so instead i'm posting this half and then the next half soon once i have it properly written up. anyway!! please enjoy!! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love

main masterlist | series masterlist

Gertrude Crowley was a nervous woman.

It was the first thing you noticed about her; her movements were hesitant, as though she feared drawing too much attention. In the dim light, you noticed her face—worn, yes, but not aged beyond her years. Lines of worry etched her brow and framed her mouth. Her greying hair, streaked with darker remnants of its original chestnut hue, was hastily pinned beneath a weathered black scarf, frazzled tufts poking through the holes strewn throughout the fabric.

“Tea, Ms. Crowley?” You asked the woman. Despite your soft tone, the woman jumped in her seat, hand raising to her bosom as she took in a sharp breath.

“I suppose, Dear.” She squeaked in reply

You gave the older woman a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her fears. Her pale blue eyes darted away quickly, revealing a haunted expression. They glanced at you briefly, then withdrew as if frightened by what they might find. She fidgeted with her hands, the frayed edges of her gloves exposing trembling fingers.

“Tea is good for the soul, don’t you think?” You hummed to her softly, your upper half bent over your kitchen table, and you poured the steaming liquid into two cups. You hoped the woman wouldn’t comment on how the ceramic was chipped; the painted flowers faded from years of use. “Always so cold in The Warrens, it warms you up from the inside.”

Ms Crowley nodded stiffly, teacup rattling against its matching plate as she held it in trembling hands. You took a brief moment to observe her, eyes searching her appearance. Her clothing was plain but serviceable—a dark woollen cloak that hung unevenly over her frame, its hem damp and muddied from the streets. Beneath it, a simple grey dress fitted her modestly, cinched at the waist with a cracked but sturdy belt. A brass locket hung around her neck, glinting faintly when she shifted. Though practical and well-worn, her boots carried scuffs deep enough that you questioned if the dark fabric was her socks beneath.

She took a hesitant sip from her cup and looked up at you with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”

You settled into your seat, dragging your cup across the table's woodgrain. “How can I be of assistance?”

Ms Crowley hesitated, her lips thinning into a line as she contemplated a response. You wisely decided to allow her some space, and the steaming liquid cupped in your palm suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. 

The older woman stumbled over her words, once, twice, thrice before finally settling on a simple, “I..I have never met a witch before.”

You smiled down into your cup, elbows resting on the table as you slowly looked up at her through a strand of loose hair that had fallen across your forehead. “I think you will find witches are alike most people you would meet—just like any stranger you would pass on the street.”

She peered across the table—as if testing your own words against you. Her tired, pale blue eyes squinting as she examined you from head to toe. “I suppose… I suppose you’re right. And I suppose I should trust you. I ‘ave been told most witches are trustworthy.”

“We are.” You state simply, only pausing to take a sip from your cup. The warm liquid fills your belly, a soft hum escaping your throat as you tilt you head in thought. “We’re salesmen, in a way, sellin’ our wares. There will always be scam artists, a few among the many, but most of us are just makin’ ends meet.”

The older woman contemplates your words. She takes a sip, a long one, then nods in affirmation. “You’re right. I should have some faith.”

“Now, Ms. Crowley, how can I help you?” You query once again.

“Well… I don’t know how this all works…”

“Just tell me what troubles you. From the start, if possible.”

Before she could speak, the door creaked open behind you, breaking the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. The sound was faint, yet it resonated through the stillness like the tolling of a distant church bell. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the chipped teacup as a wave of unease swept through you. The air seemed heavier, colder—an unspoken warning curling down your spine.

“Spirit-raiser.”

That voice. Gravelly, familiar. Unwelcome. You sucked in a sharp breath, though it felt as though your ribcage had suddenly shrunk two sizes too small for your organs. The bruises still present across your abdomen ached as every muscle in your body tensed, a tangled knot of shock electrifying your nerves. But beyond that, beyond the anger and disbelief, there was a feeling far more treacherous: relief.

He returned.

Your head whipped around, posture immediately straightening as though your spine was a pole made of steel. There he was—Bucky Barnes, leaning in the doorway like he owned the place, his sharp, stormy eyes swept over you, then flicked briefly to Ms. Crowley, whose face drained of colour. The woman looked ready to bolt, her hands clutching the table's edge as if it might anchor her in place. You couldn’t blame her. A woman already so anxious over the idea of magic she had positively turned green the moment she entered your flat. Now she was face to face with the dreaded Bucky Barnes, the fucking menace of the Sootstone? Many in The Warrens likely hadn’t seen the man in person, maybe at a distance, or knew him through whispered tales. You certainly hadn’t encountered the man until he came crashing into your life, smog and all. 

“Bucky,” you said, his name slipping out before you could catch it. A string of curses nearly left your tongue along with it. How bittersweet could it be that despite all the hurt you felt, you still called him by a name so familiar? Too familiar. The taste of it burned on your tongue. Your heart slammed into a furious rhythm as what could only be described as a smirk graced his lips. How could he act like he hadn’t vanished from your life without so much as a goodbye? 

How could he turn up here and act like all was well and normal?

It had hurt when he had left; yes, that was to be expected. But these past few days, he had avoided you. At least, it felt like avoidance. You hadn’t heard a word from the Smog Boys since your beating at the hand of the Iron Rats, not even a whisper on the sharp winds that rolled in from the dock. Natasha would have told him. In what world would she not have told Bucky that his pet witch had missed the summons because she was trembling, bloodied and bruised on her own floor? 

You had convinced yourself that maybe it was for the better, an escape from Becca’s wrath and escape from the Smog Boys…

“I’m busy.” The words escaped you before you could think.

He raised his brows in disbelief. Your toes curled in their boots, cringing at your own blunt tone. But then again, had he just expected everything to return to normal?

“I need’a favour.” He stepped further into the room, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he surveyed the space with casual indifference. His gait was smooth, gaze unbothered. A morbid part of you wished you could inspect his back and see the damage you caused. It didn’t seem to bother him or impede his movements.

Ms. Crowley made a small, frightened noise, her trembling hands going to her locket as though it might ward off his presence. “I—perhaps I should come back later…”

“What’re you doin’ here?” you demanded, the words sharper than you intended, cutting over Ms. Crowley’s muttering. 

“As I said, I need’a favour.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your composure. 

“A favour?” you repeated, the words dripping with scepticism. “After everythin’, you show up here and ask for a favour?”

Ms. Crowley flinched at the tone of your voice, but you couldn’t stop now. Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest crack in his facade of nonchalance.

“Watch it,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t want to push me.”

“And you don’t want to push me neither, Barnes,” You shot back, planting your hands on the table. “You don’t get to leave without so much as a ‘thank you��� and then show up here, actin’ like I owe you somethin’?”

“You say that, spirit-raiser, but…” He sucked on his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he looked down at you, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets as he sighed through his nose. “I just spent the last four days cleanin’ up your mess.”

Your brows drew inward, confusion slipping through. The entire time you had spent in misery, licking your wounds and nursing your broken heart, he had been out there defending you? 

A devilish expression crossed his face. “You really thought you could, what? Walk on over to Grimrow unnoticed while under my protection? Do you realise how long it has taken me to talk the Rat King down from marching over the Sootline and wagin’ war ‘cause of you?”

“They crossed the Sootline. They pursued me.” You rebutted, though even your voice wavered, unsure.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, eyes squinting. “You better be praisin’ whatever fuckin’ witch god you follow, 'cause that little fuck up on their end is the only reason why you’re still here playin’ good little spirit-raiser.”

You swallowed. Hard. 

“They hurt me.” You confessed, voice steadying.

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with tension. You could feel Ms. Crowley’s gaze on you. Bucky’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening as his eyes finally lifted and bore into yours. His expression was unreadable, a carefully laid mask to cover whatever real emotion raged behind his stormy blue eyes.

Then, to your surprise, Ms. Crowley’s feeble voice cut through the silence. 

“I-I-I should go now—”

You whirled around.

“No,” you snapped, cutting her off before she could rise. Ms. Crowley froze, wide-eyed and trembling, her teacup rattling slightly in her unsteady hands. For a brief moment, you thought Bucky might let her stay, that he’d simply loom in the corner, his presence a warning but nothing more.

But then Bucky huffed a sharp breath, irritation flashing across his face as he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Get the fuck out,” he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument, his eyes sliding to meet the older woman's as you made a noise close to a whimper. “And keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about all this.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, her gaze darting between the two of you. With a frightened nod, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her bag and locket close to her chest.

“Apologies. I ain’t sayin’ a thing. Not a word. I swear.” she stammered, her voice a whisper as she made a beeline for the door.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you turned to Bucky, a glare sharp enough to cut steel fixed on your face.

“You didn’t have to scare her off like that!” you snapped, grabbing the teacups and stalking toward the sink.

“A waste of fuckin’ time is what she was,” Bucky replied casually, his voice dripping with indifference.

“She was a client,” you shot back, setting the cups into the sink with more force than necessary. “A payin’ client. I need clients, Barnes.”

Bucky leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching you. “You’re actin’ like I don’t pay you triple what they’re offerin’.”

You dipped your hands further into the soapy water, pressing your palms flat against the metal bottom as you sighed, momentarily closing your eyes in exasperation. “You don’t get to decide who’s worth my time. This is my place. My work. You can’t just—”

“I thought Nat was exaggeratin’,” Bucky cut over you, his voice low but carrying an edge that made your stomach churn.

You stiffened, your grip on the cup tightening. “Exaggeratin’ about what?”

“About this.”

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

“It’s nothin’,” you muttered, returning to the sink.

“Don’t look like nothin’,” he countered, his tone sharp. “Let me see the rest.”

You froze, your hands hovering over the sink. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

You shook your head, your pulse roaring in your ears. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

Bucky let out a low growl of frustration, and before you could react, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. His other hand went to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Bucky, stop,” you protested, grabbing at his wrists. The soapy water made your hands slick, his skin slipping from your grasp. “This isn’t—”

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

His words silenced you, leaving you to stare up at him in stunned disbelief. The fight drained out of you, replaced by a reluctant acceptance as you lifted your hands, a trail of water rolling down to your elbows. Your head dipped, staring down at his shoes as droplets dripped onto his boots. With a defeated sigh, you rested your palms on his chest, pressing the wet skin into his buttoned shirt until you could feel the warmth of his body. With a grunt, he tugged your blouse from where it was tucked into your shirt, ripping the fabric upward until it exposed your belly.

The air seemed to leave the room as his gaze fell on the mottled bruises that painted your abdomen, the angry purples and blues. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his hand hovered over the worst of the damage, his fingers brushing against your side with an uncharacteristic hesitance.

You heard him swallow audibly, adam’s apple bobbing. A shiver ran down your spine as his thumb carefully ran up to your sternum, then across the band of your brassiere. 

“How many ribs did you break?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the hair across your body rose on end. Tingles blossomed across your skull as his hand swept down to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down to inspect the damage still hidden. 

“Three.”

His grunt of acknowledgement was quiet, but the tension dominating his frame was unmistakable. He stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair, tongue running over his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” The question gave you near vertigo. 

“I did.” You lie through your teeth

The gangster shook his head, hands resting on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“Bullshit. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve felt it, doll.” Your gut clenched as he half motioned towards his back. “If you wanted to fight back, they would’ve been dead long before they touched you.”

You pause. He was right. He was entirely right. You hadn’t fought back because you were what? Dejected and defeated? Too swept up in your own pity? Living in your mother's shadow? Or was it just the shadow you had created for yourself?

“You’re punishin’ yourself, aren’t ya? Hm?”

“I’m not lyin’ Barnes—” You begin to speak, voice raising as hysteria begins to bubble within you. Why was he asking you these things? Why was he pretending to care?

“Why?” He cuts over you, 

You turned away, refusing to respond. “I think you should leave now.”

He was silent for a beat. Then you heard the shuffle of clothing as he picked up his coat and swept it over his muscled shoulders. “I still need that favour.”

You sigh, an exaggerated noise as you spin to face him with a scowl. “What now? Can’t it wait?”

“You’re expected. At a meetin’.” 

“Meetin’?” You echoed.

“About what happened. With the Iron Rats.” 

“I thought you said you dealt with it—” You bite back, irritation flaring. 

“Would you just shut your fuckin’ mouth for a second and listen?” Bucky cut over you, voice raised. You clamp your mouth shut in surprise.

“It’s the Rat King.” Bucky meets your gaze. “He wants to meet you.”

—

You would have never described Bucky Barnes as nervous, but the walk to the Sootline almost had you questioning that assumption. Bucky kept his pace steady, though you noticed the subtle clench of his jaw and the occasional twitch of his hand at his side. It wasn’t the demeanour of a nervous man—no, Bucky Barnes didn’t do nervous—but something unexplainable was simmering beneath the surface.

The streets of the Warrens were quieter than usual, the normal hum of life dampened. The sun had grown low in the sky, the usual grey fog warming to a diffused orange and pink glow. The cobblestones were slick beneath your boots, liquids you wouldn’t dare identify, leaving a sheen across the ground that reflected the faint glow of lanterns. You adjusted your coat, tucking it closer against the chill, and cast a sidelong glance at Bucky. 

"Barnes, you alright?" you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. You weren’t one to pry, but the energy engulfing the gangster was strange.

“We’re late,” he muttered, his voice clipped.

You frowned, the sharpness of his tone needling at you. “Well, if you’d told me sooner than five minutes ago that I was needed—”

“And you would have come?.” His words were abrupt, cutting through your protest like a blade. “You do ‘ave a habit of ignorin’ my summons.”

Your jaw clamped shut, a heavy silence falling over the both of you. Further down the twisting, wonky street, you could see streetgoers dashing into nearby stores and homes. Above in the stacked homes that towered above the streets, faces cautiously peeked out, watching as Bucky and you marched past. You observed a group of three children ushered away by their mother, her tightly shutting the rickety window with a grim expression.

“It would be best if you kept your mouth shut during this. Only speak when spoken to. Just agree unless I say otherwise.” Bucky finally spoke, voice gruff.

“Why?” You pry, voice unsure.

“‘Cause I can’t help you if you say somethin’ stupid ‘n end up gettin’ yourself in more trouble.”

Your steps faltered, confusion flashing across your face. “Why do you suddenly care?”

His lip twitched, but he continued with his persistent gait. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re scarin’ me—”

“I have a reputation to uphold, spirit-raiser. Can’t have these rats thinkin’ I’ve gone weak ’cause of some bird.”

The words landed heavily, and you bit back the sting of their dismissal. “What does your reputation got to do with me?”

His stride didn’t falter, but his gaze flicked toward you, brittle and intense. “If I can’t protect you, then what’s to say I can protect the whole of The Warrens, huh? What’s to stop them from marchin’ over the Sootline?”

“So, what’s this, then? You strikin’ a deal, handin’ me over to them, actin’ like you don’t care so they don’t think you’re weak ‘cause of some bird?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead a long time ago.” He huffed out in an empty laugh. He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The weight of his stare rooted you in place. “No, doll, those rats… they fucked up.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued, his voice low and deliberate, every word laced with venom. “I’m gonna get them to bend the fuckin’ knee. Show them whose the real fuckin’ King around here.”

—

The Sootline River separated the two territories like a jagged scar, its sluggish current carrying the city’s filth toward the sea. On either bank, the Smog Boys and Iron Rats assembled in tense lines, a mix of swagger and unease flickering across their faces. The lanterns they carried swayed, casting fragmented shadows on the water as the sun finally slipped beyond the horizon, coating the land in creeping darkness, its coffin-like suffocation only exaggerated by the smoke and ash from the Smokestacks.

Bucky stood at the river’s edge, his posture deceptively relaxed, his hands buried in his coat pockets. His gaze locked onto the figure across the river: Varlan Crey—The Rat King. Varlan was everything Bucky wasn’t—brash, loud, and lumbering, his bulk swathed in a tattered black coat with yellow stitching. His grin was wide, but his teeth were uneven, lending him the air of a predator more accustomed to snapping than scheming. His gang flanked him, a pack of diseased rats, restless and waiting for a signal.

“Barnes,” Varlan called, his voice carrying easily across the water, gravelly and full of mock cheer. “Shame we ain’t meetin’ unda different circumstances.”

“Varlan,” Bucky replied, his tone steady, almost clipped. He didn’t move a muscle, his stance radiating a nearly unbearable calm.

Varlan cocked his head, his smirk widening. “I’m guessin’ this is the bird in question?” He nodded towards you.

You froze under his scrutiny, your skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. The air seemed colder now, and your chest tightened as though the river’s chill had seeped into your bones. 

Bucky gave a single, deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Varlan snorted softly. “A bird from The Warrens, crossing inta my territories ‘n causing a ruckus amongst my boys… you undastand how this looks bad, Barnes?”

Bucky didn’t flinch. His smooth and unhurried tone carried across the water like a blade. “I can. But it weren’t her that was causing the ruckus now, was it? I’m guessin’ these lies you’re tellin’ yourself are why you so recklessly declared war before examinin’ the facts.”

Varlan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “Facts,” he repeated, shaking his head as though the word itself amused him. “You’re soundin’ more and more like them fancy wankers up in The Flower Districts, Barnes. Especially in those fine tailored suits a yours.”

A chorus of low laughter rumbled from the Iron Rats side of the bridge, the lines of men with their yellow handkerchiefs grinning amongst themselves. 

“Oh, I can recommend you a tailor, Crey,” Bucky said lightly, his voice laced with faint amusement. “I know one who gives discounts for friends.” 

It was now time for the Smog Boys to stir behind Bucky, muffled chuckles rippling through the crowd. A flicker of a smile ghosted across Bucky’s lips, though his gaze remained fixed on Varlan. With the subtle jab landed, Varlan bristled. His shoulders stiffened, and his smirk turned brittle. He barked a short laugh, more bark than humour.

“Well,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?”

“Go ahead,” Bucky replied.

You glanced at him, searching for some clue about his thinking, but his expression gave away nothing. Beside you, the Smog Boys settled, hands tucked into their pockets and chests puffed out as they eyed the Iron Rats across the river. Their stillness wasn’t as practised as Bucky's. He held the type of quiet that preceded violence, the kind that made your stomach churn. As you scanned their faces, you noted how young some men were, barely out of boyhood. It might have been a cause for concern, but you knew many sought out Bucky’s leadership out of desperation. Their energy was much better placed under the guidance of someone like Bucky instead of them turning to the streets where their violence and frustration would run rampant. Regardless of their age or status, you had noticed one common theme among the Smog Boys—none were left unfed, and their clothes were always without holes. The same could not be said for other less fortunate souls who braved The Warrens alone. 

“I admit,” Varlan began, dragging out the word with a performative sigh. “That I may ‘ave been… hasty. But ya can’t blame me, not with the information I was told.”

“I guess so,” Bucky replied simply. 

Bucky’s lack of reaction agitated the larger man, a cross expression forming on his greasy face. Then his smirk returned, sly and serpentine. “Well, I am impressed by ya…little investigation. Touched a nerve, did it?”

A ripple of unease passed through you as Varlan Crey lifted his brows, head tilted to match his devious, wide-eyed expression. A subtle dig at Bucky’s involvement—or worse, his attachment to you? You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both their gazes shift momentarily to you. 

By some miracle, Bucky didn’t react to the provocation. Instead, his voice came low and steady. “I take it you spoke with the witch?”

You felt your face react before you could steel yourself, face scrunching in confusion. Witch? What witch was Bucky referring to? He certainly wasn’t referring to you—you had never met the Rat King before, let alone spoke with him about your misdeeds of crossing into his territories. In retrospect, with the gravity of the situation weighing upon you, it was a foolish assumption to make thinking you could walk into Grimrow unimpeded or unidentified. In recent months, it seemed everyone and anyone knew who you were before you knew them. It was as if you walked your life with a ginormous red hot brand across your forehead that simply said: Bucky Barnes!

“Spoke? Yes,” Varlan said, his voice emerging in a drawl. “Come ‘ere, girl.” 

He turned slightly, and a figure emerged from the Iron Rats’ crowd.

Wanda.

Wanda.

Your chest tightened, bruising squeezing painfully. She walked forward with her usual unnerving grace, her head high, her eyes sweeping the scene before her. Her auburn locks bounced across her white dress, sheepskin draped over her shoulders to protect her from the chill. Coven garb. She was calm. Too calm. The shock of seeing her in the Church of Light clothing almost made you physically recoil. You had never seen the attire in the flesh, but you remembered how your mother had described it—white to symbolise the light and the chosen babe, the Light-bringer. Diviner. 

The voices of the past echoed those names in your mind.

Light-bringer…

Your mother had always been short in her tales, too afflicted by the trauma and illness that had ruled most of her life away from the Coven. She had only spoken of the cruelty and sickness in those temple walls. The white was purity, the end of times, the rapture… but also a symbol of their devotion. The crimson blood of their self-inflicted or sometimes forced punishments showed up best on a fresh canvas. 

How had Wanda inserted herself in your life so quickly? How long had Leofric and his coven of fucking madness been tailing you? And how had Bucky known to bring her? You glanced at him, desperate for a flicker of understanding, but his face remained devoid of emotion.

“It seems my friend, Barnes ‘ere, is obsessed with facts.” The Rat King spoke, pulling you from your confused daze. He wheezed out a laugh, a phlegm-filled cough quickly following as he spat the glob into the filthy churning Sootline.

“Go on then, girl. State the facts.” Varlan instructed with a bark.

Wanda folded her hands in front of her, her voice level and composed. “I invited her to Grimrow.”

A surprised murmur swept over the crowd.

“The Church of Light has been expanding its temple across the Sootline. I was honoured to become the Head Priestess for our new build—”

“Yeah, yeah, cut to the facts, girl.” Varlan cut over Wanda. 

The auburn woman's eyes sparked with something that could only be described as irritation, but it was only a flicker as she expertly composed herself. “I invited her over to celebrate with me, as we have been friends since childhood.”

The word friends felt like a slap. Or even better, a well-placed stab to the abdomen. Your throat tightened as you stared at her, horrified by her ease in lying. How could she say it so smoothly? So convincingly? You tried to form words, but they caught in your throat, leaving you in silence.

“You agree,” Varlan pressed, his voice breaking through your haze, “that you were invited?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came, head spinning. Finally, you forced yourself to speak. “Yes.”

Varlan’s sly eyes narrowed, assessing you. “You say you are both friends but… the bartender and my men witnessed a fight between ya both,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “Why?”

Wanda quickly stepped in, her voice carrying a faint trace of sorrow. “I had expressed my concern. I wished she would stop workin’ for the Smog Boys out of fear for her safety.”

Varlan’s amusement flickered across his face, but you caught the subtle way his eyes darted toward Bucky. It was a jab meant to provoke. Bucky didn’t bite. He remained as unmoving as stone.

“And what do you say?” Varlan asked, turning his attention back to you.

Wanda’s eyes burned into your own, her chin lifting. You could’ve sworn you saw the ghost of a smirk across her lips as she watched you squirm. You couldn’t claim she was lying, or this elaborate fabrication would fall apart. You couldn’t gauge her motive. Was it to make you feel you owed her and the Church of Light? Was it to protect you? Plant seeds of doubt within Bucky, and make it seem like you had hidden parts of your life from him?

“She’s tellin’ the truth,” you surrender, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“And do you have evidence? Of this letter sent to you to invite you?”

Your stomach dropped further, quickly scrambling to come up with a believable lie. “No… No, I burn all my old mail. I use it as kindlin’.”

“Convenient,” Varlan spat out with a slow shake of his head. “Very convenient.”

“I have evidence,” Wanda interjected smoothly, producing a rolled parchment from somewhere on her person. “It is the reply she sent me, confirmin’ the date.”

Bucky’s shoulders subtly relaxed beside you. Had he known about the lie, or was he being strung along by her games, too? Had the two spoken as well? What lies had she told him? Worst of all was the flare of jealousy in your gut—the thought of him talking with that woman, the idea of him trusting her over you—the weight of betrayal was suffocating. Wanda had gone to unimaginable lengths, forging a note in your handwriting to solidify this ruse.

“You wrote this reply?” Varlan asked, holding the parchment aloft.

“Yes.” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

Varlan examined the note for a long moment before nodding. “Well, seems you’re right, Barnes. My men were in the wrong. “

“So, we have an understanding now, Crey?” Bucky asked, his voice steady.

“Believe we do, Barnes,” Varlan replied. “Your woman can walk free.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his hand flexing at his side. For a moment, he didn’t respond; his cold blue eyes locked on Varlan like a wolf sizing up its prey.

“That’s it?” Bucky asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. “She walks free, and we’re supposed to call it even?”

Varlan spread his hands in a gesture of mock generosity. “What more do you want, Barnes? She crossed into my territory. I’ve agreed to let her go, no harm done. This should be the end of it.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He glanced down at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at Varlan. “No harm done? Is that what ya think?”

“She’s standin’ here, ain’t she?” Varlan said, his tone oily, his confidence growing in the face of no immediate retaliation. “No blood spilt, no lastin’ damage. Consider this a…generous gesture from me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. Without another word, he stalked toward the bridge.

The movement drew startled murmurs from both sides.

“What’s he doin’?” one of the Iron Rats hissed, his hand twitching toward his weapon.

“Hold!” Varlan snapped. “Let him come if he wants.” There was a cool confidence to his tone, a confidence that was likely misplaced. 

“Barnes,” Varlan said, his voice rising as Bucky drew closer with deliberate, measured steps. “There ain’t no need for this. I’ve said the matter is settled.”

Bucky said nothing as he reached the other side. His hand slid into his coat, and when it emerged, he held a knife. The blade gleamed in the lantern light, its sharp edge catching the flickering flames.

The Iron Rats stiffened as if momentarily stunned and unable to make a move.

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Varlan stepped back instinctively, his misplaced confidence crumbling as Bucky loomed over him. “Barnes, this is unnecessary—”

Bucky moved faster than anyone expected. His boot struck Varlan’s chest in a brutal kick, sending the Rat King sprawling onto his back. Gasps erupted from the Iron Rats, a few finally thawing out enough to jerk forward, but were quickly off-put their heroism by the crowd of Smog Boys inching across the bridge, blades drawn and faces like jackals.

At some point in the chaos, you had lost sight of Wanda, the witch disappearing into the shadows and fog like a ghost in the night.

Varlan scrambled backwards, his hands raised in a panicked gesture of surrender. “Wait! Barnes, wait!”

Bucky crouched over him, the knife hovering dangerously close to Varlan’s throat. “Ya think this is a game, Crey? Well, let’s fuckin’ play then, huh?” he spat. 

“I—I didn’t mean for any of this!” Varlan stammered, his voice high with panic. “I swear, Barnes. Please!”

“Beg,” Bucky said, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Varlan’s face twisted with humiliation, but the knife at his throat left no room for pride. Slowly, he rose to his knees, his hands still outstretched in surrender but his entire form trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I was wrong. Please.”

“Louder,” Bucky demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Varlan cried, his voice cracking. “You can ‘ave the men, do what ya want with ‘em. Is that what you want? Please… just—”

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

“Now, say sorry to her.” Bucky instructed, his voice near seething.

“I am sorry! I’m sorry for me actions. And my mens.” The Rat King cried out. Your gaze lifted to meet Bucky’s as he stared back across the Sootline at you. His grip on the man’s head tightened. “Please!”

“Bucky.” You finally spoke up, your voice soft as the breeze as it carried across the river.

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

“Good little rat,” he murmured. “You know, I’m hostin’ a party soon. Maybe I’ll invite you, and you can dance and entertain me like the fuckin’ jester you are.”

Varlan’s humiliation was evident, his men exchanging uneasy glances. Bucky grinned wide, showing all his teeth.

“As for the men,” He said, his tone sharp as he turned to face the crowd of Iron Rats head-on. “The ones who crossed the border. Hand them over.”

Varlan hesitated for a moment, his pride still clinging stubbornly. But the weight of Bucky’s gaze, the threat of what he might do, was too much to bear. He nodded quickly, motioning to his men.

As if not wanting to anger the gangster further, the Iron Rats were quick to locate the three culprits and push them ahead, their expressions ashen with terror. Smog Boys emerged from the mist like spectres, grasping the men and dragging them across the bridge before they could escape and bolt back into the depths of Grimrow.

“Take them,” Varlan said hoarsely, his body sunken in defeat. “They’re yours.”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He turned and crossed the bridge, hand grasping your forearm as he tugged you along. You frantically looked back, watching through the filthy haze as Varlan Crey stumbled back to his feet, cheeks burning, forehead slick with sweat. His men around him looked dejected, their beady eyes following you as you disappeared into the smog.

“Come,” Bucky uttered to you. “We have business to attend to.”

[fruvittea]

whispers in the rain ✧˚ · . part seven

— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake

— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn

— ✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake. — ✺ chapter summary: things have been on your mind lately and jungwon and sunoo take things into their own hands taking you out for a good time. the day ends with deep conversations and rekindling.

— ✺ warnings: some of the members are aged up since there is mention of consuming alcohol in this fic!!

— ✺ word count: 3.1k

— ✺ authors note! thank you for your patience, this is the first fic I am writing and it has been so fun, I decided to change things up and include a cute little day where reader spends time with two different people for a change! thank you again for reading!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | ...

Being in the presence of both Jay and Jake was tiring. So you went inside to take some time to yourself. You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Sunoo plops down next to you.

“You, me, Jungwon. Ice cream and a thrift shop run and perhaps watching the sunset with your new besties,” he announces, already tugging at your arm.

Jungwon appears in the doorway, arms crossed but smiling softly. “You could use a break. We’ll be your emotional support for the day.”

Break? Have they really noticed that things have been on your mind?

You laugh and agree, the promise of a low-pressure outing too tempting to pass up. 

You laugh and nod. “Okay, okay, I’m in.”

You have yet to hang out with some of the group separately that wasn’t Jay or Jake so this was quite exciting. You always enjoyed Jungwon and Sunoo’s company. As you get up to grab your jacket, Sunoo suddenly turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll go tell Jay that you’re going out with us. He’s been hovering, right?” he adds, almost to himself, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

You blink, a bit caught off guard. “Sunoo, don’t—”

But before you can protest, Sunoo’s already halfway down the hall, heading straight for Jay’s room. You sigh, hoping this won’t turn into a bigger deal than it needs to be. 

A few moments later, Sunoo walks back into the room, Jay trailing behind him, a hesitant expression on his face. You could tell that he might’ve not wanting you to go, for whatever reason. He was being a real downer these days. (And it may or may not have been because of you and Jake hanging out). 

“You’re coming with us, Y/n,” Sunoo announces, voice light as he steps to the side. “We’re heading out for ice cream and a thrift shop run, then maybe a sunset hangout.” He throws a quick look at Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

Jay looks at you, his expression unreadable. “Are you sure you want to go now? You looked like you had a lot on your mind earlier.” 

You  smile, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m good. Just need a little time away. I think it will be nice with Jungwon and Sunoo, my new besties.”

Sunoo, coming to your rescue, steps forward quickly. “It’s fine, Dad. Let her go. It’s just us hanging out, no big deal.” His tone is light but firm, clearly trying to ease the situation before it escalates. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

“Did you just call me da-” But before the two of your could hear Jay’s response, Sunoo lightly grabs your wrist and begins to pull you towards the door, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on, Y/n. We’ve got a full day of ice cream ahead.”

As you step outside, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Jungwon approaching Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his body tense. Jungwon stops beside him, his expression calm but attentive.

“You’re worried,” Jungwon observes softly, glancing back at you and Sunoo, who are now on the way down the stairs. “But you need to let her breathe, Jay.”

Jay runs a hand through his hair, frustration clouding his face. “Well what are you two up to—”

“We just want to spend the day with her.,” Jungwon cuts him off gently, his tone firm but not harsh. “We know you have feelings for her, honestly finally, it’s been years. But c'mon you need to let her breathe. If she likes Jake then she likes him. If she is figuring her feelings out, let her. You’re her best friend, act like it.”  

Jay’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lowers his gaze, looking conflicted. Had he really been making you feel bad? 

“Just… cool down, alright? Let her have some space,” Jungwon adds, his voice softening as he places a reassuring hand on Jay’s shoulder. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready. But for now, let her have this time to herself.”

Jay doesn’t respond immediately, but his posture shifts slightly, as if Jungwon’s words are beginning to sink in. He watches you for a moment before exhaling, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Yeah,” Jay mutters, almost to himself. “I’ll… I’ll cool down.”

Jungwon gives him a small nod, his smile encouraging, before turning to follow you and Sunoo.

—

“So I saw this cute ice cream place in downtown with really cool flavors. I think we should go there, it’s called Sundae’s.” Jungwon puts the location in his phone and follows the route. You in the passengers seat and Sunoo sitting in the back. To your surprise the car ride with the two was so pleasant, Sunoo just singing along to the music in the back and Jungwon sparking up a casual conversation with you.

“You know I don’t think we’ve hung out before.” Jungwon’s head turned to you briefly before going back to the road. 

“I actually was thinking the same, it’s nice that I’m going out with the two of you.” You play with you fingers a little. 

“Yah, it’ll be fun!” Sunoo chimes in making you smile. 

At the ice cream shop Sunoo insists on ordering first, going for an extravagant and colorful flavor. Jungwon watches with an amused smile before opting for a simple green tea scoop. When it’s your turn, both boys playfully judge your choice—earl gray tea.

“What are you a grandma?” Sunoo judges before taking a spoonful of his ice cream.

“Hey! In fact I like earl gray, it tastes good.” You shrug him off, continuing to eat your scoop.

“It’s a solid pick in my opinion.” Jungwon adds in. 

The three of you sat down on a bench around the corner of the ice cream shop. Jungwon invested in his ice cream and Sunoo trying to pry out facts about you.

“Well what do you want to know?” You turn to him curious about his response.

“Mmm how did you and Jay become friends, because in my opinion I don’t see how you enjoy him.” You let out a laugh using a napkin to wipe the melted ice cream from your fingers. 

“We met in elementary school, he was always teasing me for not being able to color in the lines. I remember looking over at his paper and it was equally as bad. But anyways he would always tease me and I would do it back. We kind of just stuck together even after elementary and middle school. Now that I come to think of it I don’t know how we became friends because of how we started.” You continue to eat your ice creams reminiscing when it was just the two of you.

“That sounds like him…always teasing or nitpicking.” Jungwon lets out an airy laugh. “I mean rooming with him freshman year at the dorms, he would tell me to do my laundry a certain way, I guess he has always been like that huh?” 

"Yeah he has, I think that’s one of the things I like about him though, it’s his odd way of caring I guess.” You don’t look at any of the two boys afraid they’ll see right through you and your feelings. 

—

By the time you three finish ice cream, Jungwon is already inputting the thrift store into his maps. It was a short drive down the street but the three of you insisted on walking in order to walk off the ice cream. 

Sunoo immediately dove into the racks, pulling out the most outrageous outfits he can find and making you and Jungwon model them. At one point, he holds up a neon jacket, declaring it your “new vibe.”

Jungwon shakes his head, picking out a simple but stylish sweater for you instead. “This is more your speed,” he says with a small smile.

“Actually yeah, this for once is something I would wear.” You take the sweater from Jungwon and go to try it on. It was the perfect size, not too baggy and it was a nice creme color. 

Sunoo rolls his eyes but agrees, muttering about Jungwon’s “boring” taste.

Hours go by and you all go your separate ways in the store, actually taking the act of thrifting seriously You buy the sweater along with a thin green cardigan, Jungwon buys a leather jacket and Sunoo also finds a couple sweaters to purchase as well. The three of you proudly talk about the luck you had in the shop. 

—

As the three of you walk back to the car you hear your stomach growl. Before you could even open your mouth to tell them you were hungry Jungwon put a place into his phone. “Don’t worry, I was also getting hungry in the store, tacos sound good?” You and Sunoo agree and Jungwon starts the car heading to the spot. 

It was a nice little area, some chairs and tables set up with people eating in a parking lot with a taco truck up front. You all ordered takeout because Sunoo wanted to go to a  nearby park that had a pretty view of the ocean. Sitting atop a picnic blanket you three eat your tacos raving about how good they were.

Sunoo marvels at the ocean while Jungwon uses the left over napkins to make paper cranes.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you ask, watching him with fascination.

He shrugs. “My sister taught me. It’s calming.”

Sunoo leans in with a smirk. “It’s also his way of avoiding deep conversations.”

Jungwon glares at him, but there’s no malice in it. “Says the guy who changes the subject every time someone asks about his love life.”

Their playful banter makes you smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a genuine lightness in your chest.

The day winds down with the three of you still at the park watching as the sun begins to set. Sunoo talks about his dreams and aspirations, his usual humor tinged with rare sincerity. Jungwon listens intently, occasionally offering quiet words of encouragement.

At some point, Sunoo excuses himself to “explore the area,” leaving you and Jungwon alone.

The silence is comfortable, filled with the sound of rustling leaves and distant laughter.

“You seemed happier today,” Jungwon says after a while, glancing at you.

You nod. “Thanks to you and Sunoo. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He smiles softly, his eyes warm. “You’ve grown to become important to us. Don’t forget that.”

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows as you, Jungwon, and Sunoo sit on the grassy hill, watching the colors of the sky change. Sunoo has his legs stretched out, lazily reclining against a tree, while Jungwon is next to you, eyes focused on the distant view. There’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, but it feels like there’s something unspoken hovering in the air.

After a few minutes, Jungwon clears his throat, glancing at Sunoo before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, y/n,” he starts, his voice casual but there’s a hint of curiosity underneath. “Can we ask you something?”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

Sunoo, who's been unusually quiet, perks up, looking at you with a sly smile. “Have you noticed any… tension between Jay and Jake recently?”

You freeze for a moment, the question slightly catching you off guard. You had a feeling the two would ask, afterall they are Jay and Jake’s friends. Plus t he tension between the two had been palpable lately, and though you’ve tried to ignore it, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of it when you’re around them. You glance down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you admit, sighing softly. “It’s a little hard to ignore.”

Jungwon watches you carefully. “Do you think it’s something serious? Or just a misunderstanding?”

You pause, trying to sort out your own feelings before speaking. “I’m not sure,” you murmur. “But I think it’s about more than just little things. I’ve never seen them like this before.”

There’s a heavy silence that falls over you, and you know both of them are watching you intently, waiting for you to continue. Sunoo leans forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a serious, almost concerned expression.

“Can we ask you something else?” Sunoo asks. 

“Yeah go ahead.” You nod.

“Do you…have feelings for Jay? Or did you ever have feelings for him?” His tone was soft almost hesitant as if he was debating on asking you about Jay.

You feel your heart race, a flush creeping up your neck. Jungwon, who’s always been quiet and thoughtful, looks at you with gentle curiosity, giving you the space to respond. But you can tell they’re both waiting for an honest answer.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of the question settle in your chest. “I… yeah, I guess I always did,” you admit, the words coming out in a whisper. “Jay’s been my best friend for so long. I think I had a crush on him pretty much my whole life.”

The confession hangs in the air, and Sunoo’s eyes widen for a moment, before he offers a knowing, if somewhat sympathetic, smile. “That makes sense. It’s obvious how close you two are. But…?”

You glance down, unable to meet their eyes. “But I think it’s fading,” you whisper. “The crush, I mean.” You pause, your fingers tugging at the edges of your sweater, unsure of how to continue. “It’s hard to admit, but… I feel like something’s different now. I don’t know if I’m holding on to something that’s not really there anymore.”

Jungwon shifts slightly, leaning forward to look at you with a softer gaze. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’re not wrong for letting go of something that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, but the guilt creeps in. You feel like you're betraying something, or someone. "But I also don’t want to let go,” you admit, the words tumbling out. “I feel guilty about it, but when I’m with Jake, I don’t feel that way. He makes me feel good. He makes me laugh, and he listens to me. He’s different, and... I enjoy spending time with him. And with Jay too."

You trail off, unsure of what else to say. The emotions feel tangled, and you’re still processing everything that’s happening between you, Jay, and Jake. But you could tell the two boys on either side of you were listening intently, figuring out what to sway next. Sure it admitting these thoughts and feelings you’ve been having was not what you were expecting to do today, it was still nice to be able to release the weight and let somebody in. 

Sunoo’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of your thoughts. “It’s okay to like both of them. You’re not doing anything wrong by being honest with yourself,” he says, his tone calm but supportive. “Feelings don’t follow a strict path. It’s complicated, but that’s life.”

Jungwon, who’s been quietly listening, nods in agreement. “And whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. It’s okay to take your time and figure out what you want. No one’s rushing you.”

Jake and Jay are, you want to say but refrain. Could the tension really be because of you? You finally look at them both, their expressions soft and understanding. For the first time today, you feel like you can breathe, knowing that someone—two people—are there to support you no matter what. You smile weakly, grateful for their patience.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, your voice full of sincerity. “It means a lot.”

The three of you sit in silence again, but this time, it’s comforting. There are no expectations, no pressure to figure things out immediately. Just the quiet support of friends who understand that life—and love—aren’t always as simple as they seem.

As the night continues the three of you decide to make your way back to the house. 

-

Opening the door to your room you place your bag from the thrift store onto the ground. Laundry can wait. Tomorrow I’ll do laundry, maybe Jay will end up taking over. You lay down on your bed and scroll through your phone until you hear a faint knock on the door. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” 

The door opens and Jay appears. He was in his pajamas, his hair messy. You look at him and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat a little faster. He closes the door and sits at the edge of your bed. You were sitting against the headboard watching his every move. 

“How was your day out with Jungwon and Sunoo?” He asked.

“I actually had a really good time, I haven’t hung out with the two of them before and I really enjoyed it. They are really good friends Jay, I’m glad you found them in college.” Jay can’t help but smile. You always had something nice to say and that was something he really appreciated about you, something he really liked about you. 

“I’m sorry for seeming like a dad…Is it bad that I sometimes just want you to myself?” He paused, realizing what he said. “Li-like you know because we were friends first.” He let out a nervous laugh scratching the back of his neck. Shit. 

You play with the sheets, unsure of what to say, but if you don’t say anything it’ll be even more awkward. 

“I’ve felt that way too Jay, it’s okay, but hey I mean we’re getting older, things like this do happen.” You give him a smile. It is true you have definitely felt that way, especially when with his girl friends in high school. But of course you left that small detail out. 

“Yeah…” Jay’s eyes focus on the sheets of the bed. He didn’t want to leave just yet. Neither did you want him to, but you both didn’t say anything. Instead you both kept the conversation going little by little. You showed him your thrift haul and he told you about the book that he was  able to start that day. It was nice, like the two of you were back in routine again. 

You and Jay both ended up falling asleep on your bed, him curled up by the foot of your bed, you under the sheets diagonally across. 

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

🏷️ tag list: @kyunlov @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr

💌 pm me or comment if you want to be on the tag list !!

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Four)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, Arkham Knight lore and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader uses she/her pronouns btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief

Part four: Arkham

Although you told Gar you were going to sleep that didn’t happen. Instead you stayed up picking apart the new note of the Jokers Dick sent you. Rachel texted you about an hour ago letting you know her and Kori got to Gotham safely and she promised to update you. You didn’t know why Dick felt the need to break one of the promises he made to you, but finding out that information was a problem for another day. The problem right now was finding Jason, he was all you could think about. You didn’t know where he was or what he could be going through.

Gotham City Point of View

Jason remembers finding Joker at the abandoned amusement park. He was sure he’d finally get his chance to drag joker to Arkham himself. It seems the exact opposite happened though, Jason was now tied to a chair in Arkham. He tried to move but was quickly ment with an excruciating stabbing pain through his whole body. It seemed to be coming from the barbed wire that kept him tied to the chair. He knew we was in Arkham because he recognized the cell from the times him and Bruce dropped by to ask various criminals various questions. Jason always suspected part of Arkham if not all of it was corrupt and not handling criminals properly. The fact that he was there confirmed his theory. His Robin suit was covered in blood, he assumed it was his own. The smell of the cell told him he was most likely in an abandoned condemned part of the hospital. It was oddly quiet, the only noise being from running rats and dripping of broken pipes.

Regular Point of View

“Y/N!” You felt someone shaking you awake. “Y/N,” Gar says.

“What! What’s happened!” You yelled suddenly not being at all tired.

“They think they decoded the latest note, Dick and Rachel said they called you but I guess you slept through it,” he says.

“Shit!” You say. “The note, what’s it say?”

“The baby bird is kept, where the bats mother wept, soon to only be, is what the Archer really needs, alone and free to be, haunted by eternity,” Rachel says through the phone.

“Obviously the baby bird is Jason and you’re the archer, the general idea is joker is gonna kill Jason to haunt you forever, what we can’t get is the location,” Dick says.

“Well bat is Batman obviously,” you say trying to calm down from being woken up so suddenly.

“Wasn’t Martha Wayne an Arkham?” Gar says.

“Holy shit!” You say. “Dick he’s at Arkham, joker has Jason at Arkham somewhere. Gar you’re a genius.”

“We’re on our way,” Dick says through the phone before he hangs up.

Gotham Point of View

Jason’s whole body hurt. He didn’t even know pain could feel this bad. Sure he’s broken bones, been tortured before, and nearly died, but none of that came close to what he was feeling now.

“So tell me Robin, or should I say Jason Todd,” Joker began to say. “What is it exactly that your little girlfriend sees in you?”

“Fucking excuse me?” Jason says.

“Well you surely know before you she had a thing with the other Robin, the first Robin…the better Robin,” Joker says.

Jason laughs, it causes him immeasurable amounts of pain but he laughs to cover his fear. “Damn clown, have you really seeped that low were you gotta get your entertainment from a fucking rumored young adult love triangle?” Jason says.

“You know,” Joker’s voice was serious it made a chill go up Jason’s spine. “You know replacement Robin, one day that smartass attitude of yours might just be the death of you,” he starts manically laughing again. Jason felt genuine pure fear at the crazy purple suit wearing man standing before him. Joker reached onto the filthy floor and picked up a crowbar.

Regular Point of View

You and Gar were sitting on the couch, wide awake, in silence when your phone rang well into the next morning.

“We haven’t found anything yet,” Dick says. “But we’ve got every cop and Arkham security guard in Gotham looking for him, we’re searching Arkham wing by wing.”

“Okay, can you put Rachel on,” you say.

“Hold up I wanna talk to you-“ he starts to say.

“Dick please put Rachel on,” you say again.

“I will in three fucking seconds but just answer me real quick. I heard you slept through fifteen phone calls. When’s the last time you ate something?”

“You are fucking unbelievable,” you say.

“Just answer the question,” he says.

“Last night,” you say in a condescending tone.

“And how long were you actually asleep for do you think?” He asks in a serious voice ignoring your passive aggressive tone.

“I don’t know…” you say “Like an hour or two,” you say.

“Right, I’ll put Rachel on then go to sleep and have Gar wake up as soon as we call again,” he says.

“Fine,” you say.

“Hey,” Rachel says.

“Hey how’s everything going?” You ask.

“It’s just what Dick said, we’re searching Arkham wing by wing, and Dicks going behind GCPD like a mom remaking a bed,” she says. That took you aback, the fact that Dick was going behind GCPD double checking to make sure each room was clear.

“Okay, thanks Rachel just call back as soon as you guys find something,” you say. You hang up and figure you should take Dick’s advice to try to get some sleep.

“Hey Gar, are you good staying up if I try to get some sleep?” You ask him.

“Yeah sure,” he says.

“Just make sure to wake me up as soon as someone calls,” you say.

“Course,” he says.

Back in Gotham Dick, Kori, Rachel and Barbra crept through every inch of Arkham searching for Jason.

“We missed down this hall,” Dick says to one of the cops.

“Yeah unit nine got that one,” the cop says.

“No I’m checking them all myself, Barbra’s orders,” Dick says.

“Yeah but that wings condemned, it’s simply not safe and-“ the cop is cut off when Dick starts speedily walking towards the hall.

“Sir! Sir! You can’t go down there!” The cop yells. Dick bursts through the door and apart from it being disgusting it looks structurally fine. He reaches for his ear piece and tells Barbra to send everyone over to sweep the wing. They search every cell, every hall, and every room under finally on the floor of one of the cells is a bloody boy beaten to a pulp lying dead wearing a Robin suit. On the floor of the Arkham cell was the corpse of Jason Todd. Dick checked his pulse and exhausted CPR before a cop ripped him from Jason’s body.

“He’s gone, he’s gone” Kori said taking Dick from the cop. Dick was completely out of it. He felt as thought he might throw up that is when he reverted back to the man he was before he became nightwing. He stormed over to Barbra.

“You’ve got dirty cops here,” he said angrily.

“I know, look you need to pull yourself together okay don’t do this here,” she says.

“You know? How would you father fucking feel about you letting his damn police force go to shit!” He yells.

“Hey! You are way fucking out of line, I know Jason’s dead but you need to stay focused, this isn’t over yet. And I know Arkham has gone to hell and so has half my police force but I’m doing the best I can,” Barbra says. Dick is about to say something else when he practically leaps over to Rachel and rips her phone out of her hand.

“The hell are you doing?” He says.

“Dick, we have to call them!” Rachel says.

“Listen Rachel give everyone a second okay,” Kori says.

“No, this is exactly why I’m here so you don’t wait five hours,” she says.

“Fine fine, you’re right but let me make the call I want to tell Gar first,” he says.

“Fine but let me tell Gar,” Rachel says.

Back at the tower Gar gets a call from Dick and the first thing he says is, “is Y/N asleep?”

“Yeah,” Gar says.

“Don’t wake her up yet,” Dick says.

“But she said-“ Gar starts to say before he’s interrupted by Rachel.

“Gar don’t wake her up yet,” Rachel says.

“What’s going on Rach, have you guys found Jason?” Gar asks.

“Yes, we found him.” She says. She hesitates before saying, “Gar, he’s…gone”

“Gone? What do you mean gone? Like disappeared again gone? Gone missing?” Gar says talking quickly.

“No Gar, he’s dead,” she says softly.

“What?” He says with a voice crack.

“We um, we found him in Arkham…it looks like he’s been beaten…he’s been beaten to death,” she says.

“Oh my God,” he says beginning to tear up. “Shit am I the one telling Y/N?” Gar asks.

“No, Dick said he will,” Rachel says.

“I’d really like to just let her sleep honestly,” Dick says.

“She wants to be waken up and told,” Rachel says. It’s not like Dick was scared to break the news he knew it was going to go badly. He just liked the idea of you asleep, peacefully unaware that you’d never see Jason again.

“Wake her up and give her the phone off speaker,” Dick says plainly.

“Y/N?” Gar says softly waking you up.

“What’s happened?” You say quickly snapping out of your sleepy state.

“Um…Dick is on the phone for you,” he says. You take the phone from Gar.

“Y/N,” Dick says softly.

“Have you found him,” you say with anticipation.

“I’m so sorry Y/N” Dick says.

“Sorry! What do you mean you’re sorry?” You say frantically.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, we found Jason, he’s dead.” Dick says.

Hey, writing jokers dialogue felt awkward so I hope it’s not too cringy💀 Anyways if you liked the fic please like I really appreciate positive feedback cause then I know to continue posting parts. I’d like to keep posting parts to this story I plan on developing the whole redhood story line and then doing some backstory with how the reader met Jason and Dick and joined titans. So yeah any positive feedback would be greatly appreciated even if it’s just liking the fic! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed reading🩷

Also here’s my Masterlist if you haven’t read the other parts.

Masterlist

[l0nelyish]

Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

prompt: Natasha needs some cheering up this holiday season. And you seem to have just the right idea.

not a song fic, but the title seemed fitting ;)

happy holidays! x

~~~~~~~

Natasha was thrown off by the weather. Slowly, everything seemed more gloomy and so white, she could barely see New York’s outline out of her huge window. Sitting behind her desk, she decided on doing some more paperwork. The avenger was never one to just lose herself in the Christmas spirit, she didn’t get the ‘charm’ it held.

Only two doors ahead, you were humming to the soft tune of ‘Driving Home For Christmas’ while wrapping some last-minute gifts you bought. Excitement filled you and a soft smile graced your features thinking of the holiday season and spending Christmas intimately with the avengers, who pretty much became your family over the last couple of months. In the middle of wrapping a customized arrow for Clint, you noticed the lack of glue. “Shit”, you murmured and started looking desperately for some little sticky pieces.

Two minutes later, you declared your own defeat. You let out a loud sigh and figured you needed another option.

Natasha’s eyebrow twitched in anticipation and confusion once she heard a soft knock on her door. “Friday, unlock my door please.” “Alright, Ms. Romanoff. I am letting Ms. Y/L/N in.” Natasha watched you step into her space and sent you a soft smile.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to bother, I just ran out of glue for my gift wrappings and I wondered if you might have some stripes for me.”, you sent her a grin and stepped closer, leaning onto her desk.

“Sure, let me look for it.”, Natasha started rummaging through her desk. You turned around and took a look around her room. In the 10 months you’ve been living with the team, you can finger count how many times you stepped into Natasha’s room. But it were enough times to notice that she hasn’t changed even a bit of decor into a more joyful and warm flair. “No Christmas decor, huh?”, you smirked. The question threw her off guard a little and her hands stilled in one of her drawers for a second. “Very attentive, are we? No. Christmas is not really my thing. And I never go big on decoration.”, she sent you a smile, almost apologetically.

You hummed and nodded: “Yeah, I guess it’s not for everyone. I just thought you might be a bit more joyful, I mean.. I heard you like to celebrate with Clint’s family and kids are so- ecstatic?”

Natasha chuckled: “Yeah, they love it. And i love seeing the joy on their faces, that’s enough holiday spirit for me.”, she shrugged and handed you the glue stripes.

“Thank you!”, you took them and turned to leave her room. On your way out, you stalled. “You know”, you faced her again, making Natasha look up: “maybe we could go on a walk? Just to get you into a more ‘joyful’ mood. Because sitting behind a stack of mission reports, that won’t run away, is a little lousy-“, you closed the door and walked away, not giving Natasha much time to process your words. She shook her head, chuckling. Sometimes, you reminded her of a child, or a puppy. But she wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone. Natasha grew so fond of you, in fact, her heart bursts every time she sees you around.

Ten minutes passed and you found yourself knocking on her door again. This time, Natasha opened it herself. She was already dressed properly and wrapped in a scarf with a black knitted beanie on her head, a tiny red hourglass symbol sewn into it. She sent you a smile and locked her door with her code.

“So, where are we going?”

“Just for a walk around the compound. If that’s alright.”

“That’s definitely alright. Lead the way.”

You two spent the next twenty minutes walking through the woods. The snow seemed to fall slower, much softer. It was now an almost mesmerizing sight to Natasha. But just almost, because you starring up at the sky happily was more dear to her. Precious, in a way.

“You know, maybe you should decorate a little. I think it would be good for you, Tash.”, she nodded slowly. There was an unspoken understanding, you didn’t need to ask why she doesn’t enjoy Christmas, you just accepted her the way she is. And Natasha didn’t find you pushy, she knew you meant the best for her, for everyone.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… maybe- maybe you would like to help me out?”, you hugged her reassuringly. Another silent agreement.

As you kept returning to the compound, Nat suddenly let go of your hand. Sneakily she faked fixing her shoe lace and you didn’t bother checking on her. You only turned around, in pure shock, once you felt something utterly cold hit your neck. There she was, letting out the most uncontrolled and carefree laugh you’ve ever heard the redhead make. “You did not just-“

“Whoops. My bad!”, she smirked.

“Oh. It’s so on, Romanoff.”, you said lowly, crouching slowly to form a snowball of your own.

Several minutes later, you both looked as white as the ground you’ve been standing on. The last thrown snowball landed on your chin and Natasha reached over gently to wipe some of the white substance off your face. This was the closest she’s ever been to you and you felt your breath hitch. Not because of the cold, but because of the anticipation. Oh, how gentle her features seemed up close. How beautiful her eyes are. It seemed like time moved even slower and Natasha gently cupped your cheek, as if to memorize your face.

“You know”, she whispered, just for the two of you to hear: “maybe Christmas isn’t so bad, after all.” “I’m glad I could help. You deserve this as much as anyone else, Natasha. You deserve to be happy.”

Natasha slowly leaned in and captured your lips in a sealed kiss. You both smiled into it, finding the joy within the bond you share. And she never lacked of a Christmas spirit again, having you by her side.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. “you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

Taglist: @policedeer @ang3lz-lov3 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @corpsepies @almostdrowningdown @obittwo @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx @donnie-is-here @urmommt

[eastofthemoon]

Muppet Holiday Baking Show

Time for my annual muppet fic for the holidays. Enjoy!

Title: Muppet Holiday Baking SHow Rating: G Series: The Muppets Summary: Inspired by popular baking shows, the muppets decide to do one of their own. It goes as well as you expect.

Archive of Our Own

--------------------------- “Okay,” Scooter called as he flipped the camera on and held it up. “We’re ready to go!”

“Alright,” Fozzie cheered as he waved to the camera. “Hiya, folks! And welcome to the very first Muppet Baking Show, which will be hosted by yours truly, Fozzie the Bear!.”

“And me, Rowlf the Dog,” Rowlf said before gesturing behind himself. “But before we go see what our contestants are baking, let’s meet our judges.”

“Drumroll, please, Animal!”

A drum suddenly rolled past them and the camera.

Fozzie sighed. “Hey, come on Animal, I’m supposed to be doing the jokes here.”

“Sorry, Foz, but you know he takes things literally,” Floyd called.

“Mmmm,” Animal called. “Literature tasty.”

“Anyway,” Rowlf said as he directed Scooter and the camera to their right. “Here are our judges, the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly.”

The Swedish Chef grinned and waved as Uncle Deadly gave a thoughtful nod.

“Thank you, it is a pleasure to be here,” Uncle Deadly said.

“You know, I can understand why the Swedish Chef volunteered to be a judge,” Rowlf said, “but I'm kinda surprised to see you one too, Deadly.”

Uncle Deadly shrugged. “Oh, it’s not that surprising. I’m no master, but I do make a killer stew...also no one else wanted the job and Kermit offered me fifty dollars in recompense.”

“You're getting paid?” Fozzie asked.

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

Within the baking tent, Fozzie and Rowlf walked over to the first contestant on their list with Scooter following close behind.

“Hey, Kermit,” Fozzie greeted as the frog looked up from his mixing bowl. “Whatcha making for us?”

Kermit looked up a bit startled. “Oh, you’re starting with me?” He cleared his throat. “Well, this is an old family recipe passed down through the generations. It’s a type of a banana cream pie.”

“Ooh,” Fozzie said curiously. “I do hope it’s a-peeling then!” He laughed at his own joke as Kermit groaned.

Rowlf seemed unfazed as he looked into Kermit’s bowl. “Anything else going in there besides banana?”

Kermit perked up. “Oh, a special family ingredient.”

“Is it oranges?” Fozzie asked hopefully. “I got a good orange joke I’ve been wanting to use, and all our musical numbers have to rhyme.”

“Uh, no,” Kermit replied. “Flies.”

Dead silence followed.

“Flies?” Fozzie said slowly.

“Yup,” said Kermit as he dipped a spoon into the batter. “It’s my great aunt Eda’s sweet fly pie. Want a taste?”

Fozzie gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, uh, normally, I would love to, but I had a big lunch so I don’t-”

“Sure!” Rowlf exclaimed as he took the spoon, put it in his mouth and swallowing the batter without hesitation.

He licked his lips. “Pretty good, although it might need a bit more sugar.”

Kermit nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Great aunt Eda was always a sweetie, and I was worried about overdoing it.”

Fozzie couldn’t speak as Scooter zoomed the camera on him and his dropped jaw.

“How?” he asked Rowlf.

Rowlf shrugged. “What? I’m a dog. We don’t care where we get our protein.”

Fozzie raised a finger to speak, but seemed to realize he really didn't want to question this further.

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

After the fly-tasting, Fozzie and Rowlf decided it was time to split up for a bit and thus Rowlf found himself at Piggy’s station.

“Hiya, Piggy how's it - woah! How are you done already?”

Piggy brushed her hair over her shoulder as she struck a pose for the camera. “Oh, when you became an expert baker like moi, it is a trifling thing to whip up the finest of delights in a jiffy!”

“Ah, sure,” Rowlf said as he looked over the very detailed and finely painted cookies that were clearly depicting Piggy’s own face. “What icing did you use?”

“Royal icing of course!” Piggy held up one of the cookies. “I only use the finest of ingredients! I’m certain once our dear judges taste these they’ll-”

“You ordered these from a bakery didn’t you?” Rowlf said flatly.

Piggy gasped in shock. “How dare you?!” She gripped the cookie as if it were a weapon, eyeing Rowlf as a potential target for confectionary wrath. “You accuse moi of trying to cheat-”

“Uh, Piggy,” Scooter spoke up, “you still have the takeout box at your station and it has the price tag on it.”

His camera zoomed in on the box that read ‘Liza’s bakery’ on it.

Piggy chewed her bottom lip and looked up at the both of them.

“Pay you both twenty bucks to keep your mouths shut.”

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

Fozzie could feel a migraine starting. He was starting to regret not taking his mom’s advice on keeping some ibuprofen on hand.

“Why,” he muttered, “why are you two here?”

Statler handed his wooden spoon to Waldorf. “Well, we wanted to cook and we figure either we risk getting burned by the stove at home-”

“Or we can come here and burn you,” Waldorf finished causing both old men to chuckle. "Dohohohoho!"

Fozzie gave a deep tired sigh. It was fine. He just had to get this over with.

“Okay, what are you two cooking up?” he asked slowly.

“Sourdough bread,” Statler replied.

Fozzie looked up hopefully. Maybe this could be a civil conversation?

“Oh? That sounds tasty.”

“It should,” Waldorf replied. “We’ve found the perfect ingredient to give it plenty of sourness.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“One of your jokes,” the old men said in unison. “Ohohohohohoh.”

Fozzie shook his head and left the table muttering under his breath. “Why do I even try...”

Scooter, however, stayed behind and focused the camera on the two of them. “Okay, seriously, what are you two making?”

“An apple pie,” stated Statler.

Waldorf froze. “I thought we were making a meat pie.”

Statler paused. “Oh...I was wondering why you were chopping those onions. So it wasn't for fake tears?”

Both men slowly looked into the now very questionable mixing bowl.

“No one tell the bear,” they said in unison.

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

“Hey, Gonzo,” Rowlf called as he approached. “Don’t mean to criticize, but is this really the best time to be looking at your phone? You've only got so much time to bake.”

“No need to worry, Rowlf,” Gonzo said as he put down his phone. “I was merely double checking my recipe for the perfect cake.”

“Oh?” Rowlf asked now very curious. “What’s the perfect recipe?”

Gonzo reached under his station and brought out his ingredients. “A cup of sugar, 2 cups of flour.”

Rowlf nodded. “Yeah, okay.” It didn’t seem anything special so far, but he wasn’t an expect baker, maybe the proportions would-

“Half a cup of baking soda.”

“Say what?”

A loud thud was heard as Gonzo placed a giant jug on his station. “A gallon of vanilla extract.”

Rowlf covered his hand over his mouth as he mulled over what was in front of him.

“Where exactly did you get this recipe?” he asked.

“The most reliable place for all kinds of information,” Gonzo said. “Tumblr.”

“You, uh, really sure you should trust that?”

Gonzo blinked puzzled. “Why? Do you think people would lie on the internet?”

Rowlf raised and lowered his hand. Nope, he didn’t think he had enough time today to explain that answer.

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

Fozzie had been a bit concerned when he heard that Bunsen and Beaker were also competing. However, he didn’t see anything explosive looking so far, so he carefully approached their station.

“Hey, you two ready to RISE to the occasion. Hahaha,” he greeted as his ears wiggled.

“Indeed we are,” Bunsen said as Beaker was taking a loaf of bread out of the oven. “We at Muppet Labs believe we have concocted the optimal variant of jalapeño bread.”

“Meep!” Beaker said as he removed his oven mitts.

“Jalapeño bread, huh?” Fozzied asked. “Did you need something to spice things up? Huh, huh?”

“Not quite,” Bunsen as he seemed unfazed by the pun. “I don’t care much for sweets and jalapeño is one of Beaker’s favorites.”

“Meep meep!” replied Beaker.

“Speaking of which Beaker,” Bunsen said as he cut into the bread for a small piece. “We need to see if the chemical balance has enhanced the pepper's natural spiciness as hypothesized. Would you do a taste test?”

“Meep, meep,” said Beaker as he popped the piece of bread into his mouth.

He chewed, but then became still. Then suddenly his face turned red and literal flames shot out of his ears.

“MEEP!” he cried out as he dashed to the fridge in the tent. He knocked over Rizzo as he opened the fridge and chugged down a full carton of milk. A low sizzle could be heard as the flames faded to smoke.

Beaker took a long deep sigh of relief.

“Ah,” Fozzie said as he approached. “I guess that bread was too hot to handle, huh?”

Beaker shook his head as he gave a thumbs up.

“Beakie really likes things spicy,” Bunsen explained with a grin.

From a short distance away, Scooter turned his camera around toward Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef who both looked very dismayed.

“I'm nut trying zeet,” said the Swedish Chef. “Nu vey.”

“I do concur,” Uncle Deadly stated. “Perhaps I should give one of my enemies a ring...”

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

“Alright, judging time,” Scooter shouted as he aimed the camera at both Fozzie and Rowlf. “Think everyone is ready for this?”

“Well, I don’t want to sugarcoat it, but I think they’re on a roll!” Fozzie cheered.

“And it looks like Rizzo is up first,” Rowlf stated as he pointed.

Scooter moved the camera so the little rat was in the frame as he carried a giant covered plate over his head.

“All right judges,” he said with a grunt as he placed it in front of the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly. “Feast your eyes on this!” He put his hand on the lid. “My Uncle Remy’s famous triple chocolate fudge brownies!”

He lifted the lid.

The judges stared at the plate, then at each other and then again at the plate.

“Zee-a plete-a is impty,” the Swedish Chef said.

“Yes,” Uncle Deadly said as he pointed. “Like the kingdom of Ozymandias, nothing here remains, save chocolate brownie crumbs.”

Rizzo shrugged. “What? I had to taste test it, didn’t I?”

“I’m amazed there even are crumbs left,” Rowlf replied.

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

Uncle Deadly took a nibble on his fork and gave a thoughtful nod. “I will say, Pepe, while your cake is a bit messy it does have a nice coffee flavor, and the nuts elevate the texture.”

The king prawn chuckled proudly. “Hey, it’s only natural. Baking runs in the family, okay? And-”

“No, no, no,” yelled the Swedish Chef and he shook his head. “Der iceenen is too roonynyen und yoo deedn't pooten een enoofen soogar. Elsoo der caken is soo goomgoomee, yoo cooden be cooled keeng oov der peeraten -”

“Okay, okay,” Pepe cried with a growl. “Why don’t you just stab my heart while you’re at it!”

“Yeesh,” Fozzie muttered to Rowl. “Third time in a row, did you ever imagine that Uncle Deadly would be the nice judge? This feels like my last comedy routine with those hecklers.”

“I would,” Rowlf replied with a sigh. “You weren’t at the last pot luck.”

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

Uncle Deadly barely looked at the cake before staring straight into Gonzo’s face. “I refuse to eat this.”

“Seem heeren,” declared the Swedish Chef. “I radeneer eet Kermeet's pie.”

“Oh, come on, guys,” Gonzo said as he gestured to his very flat looking cake. “I used all natural ingridents.”

“Yes, and I can tell you from personal experience that many poisons are natural,” Uncle Deadly said. “This cake looks so gummy it seems closer to rubber.”

“I doont dinkendink ve cannen cooten dees,” the Swedish Chef said as he poked at the cake.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gonzo said as he got out the knife, swinging it in the air above his cake. “Look you can just chop right through it - arrgh!”

The knife came down, and abruptly bounced back up. Gonzo rebounded with it, tearing through the tent and into the air. Scooter did his best to get the tiny dot that was now Gonzo caught on camera before he started to plummet in the distance. A loud thud was heard outside the tent.

“Oh, my gosh,” Fozzie said as everyone went to look out the tent “Do you think he’s okay?”

Suddenly, the melody of The Rainbow Connection started to play.

“Sorry, that's my phone,” Kermit said as he quickly answered. “Kermit the Frog here. You're sure? You’re where? Right, uh, I'll send Beauregard to pick you up.”

“Was that Gonzo?” Rizzo asked.

“Yeah, he says he’s okay,” Kermit shook his head. “He said he landed in the strategic banana reserve.”

“Why do we have that?” Miss Piggy asked.

Fozzie opened his mouth.

“Fozzie, if you say ‘because it’s a-peeling’ I will shove Kermit’s pie in your face.”

Fozzie shut his mouth.

Scooter swung his camera back to face into the tent where Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef were still examining Gonzo’s cake.

“I would suggest throwing it out,” Uncle Deadly said, “but I’m afraid it will bounce back for vengeance.”

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

“Alright, alright, everyone step back,” Bobo said as the fire fighters continued to douse the flames. “Everything’s under control.”

Scooter directed the camera back to the burning tent.

“At least the flames aren’t as high now,” he said before spinning the camera back to the muppets.

“I swear, if any of my hair got scorched, the tent won’t be the only thing on fire,” Miss Piggy muttered as she checked her compact mirror.

“In hindsight,” Uncle Deadly stated, “we should have predicted this would be the outcome when we introduced the technical challenge.”

“Yeah,” Fozzie said, “things got really heated up.”

Several groans were heard.

Scooter pointed the camera at Kermit. “So, is this the end of the contest?”

“Yeah, I don’t think we can use any of this,” said Kermit. “Stop filming, Scooter.”

Scooter turned the camera to himself.

“Happy Holidays!” he said as he cut the recording.

[darling-archeron]

@littedidyouknow, surprise! I was your Secret Santa for @acotargiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this fic for you. We talked about how you liked hurt comfort and would change how some of feysand's trauma was handled, so I combined that with some holiday fluff. This is chapter 1/3. I hope you enjoy - happy holidays!

With every solstice, it seems the Inner Circle grows. As Nyx's first solstice approaches, Feyre and Rhysand celebrate holiday traditions, both new and old, while grappling with unhealed wounds.

After a night of fitful tossing and turning, it was safe to say that when light streamed through the bedroom window, Feyre wasn’t ready to face the day.

Between Nyx’s fussing, Rhys’s restlessness, and her bad dreams, she would have been just as well off not going to bed at all. All week, she had felt drained, and last night had been no different.

At least, Nyx was often good about sleeping soundly in the morning. A true Night Court child, it was the late hours that kept him awake. Judging by the slant of the sun – or what she could glimpse of it, through her barely-open eyes – she and Rhys should have another hour of peace.

Rhys, it seemed, had also managed to fall into a fitful sleep at last. Despite his tossing and turning, he had still ended up nestled in her arms.

Right where she liked him. Surrounded by his warmth. Close enough to feel his heartbeat.

She had tried to keep her unrest concealed from Rhys. She wasn’t sure why – they didn’t keep things from one another. She knew he would listen in quiet understanding to whatever she was feeling. But she got the sense he had been feeling the same way – even if he didn’t show it in his waking hours, his fitful sleep was enough of an indication.

Even so, knowing she wasn’t alone in her unrest didn’t stop her from feeling completely ungrateful and selfish.

This time of year was supposed to be for celebration and thankfulness. And yet, here she was, with everything she could want in the world – a family, a home, peace, a loving mate, and a healthy child – and she still felt…discontented. Heavy.

A little haunted.

Gods, she was ungrateful.

More long minutes passed until she felt Rhys stir beside her.

“Good morning, love” he murmured, though he sounded as exhausted as she felt, even as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

She mumbled something barely coherent back, leaning into his touch.

“Sleep well?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding a little more awake. Of course, they were both used to getting up during the night to calm down Nyx when he woke. This was different.

“I’m just so tired,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Did I keep you awake?” he asked with equal softness, pressing her closer.

“No, I don’t think I would have slept either way.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the drowsiness away while cringing against the sunlight streaming in.

Noticing her squint, Rhys flicked his fingers, and the heavy navy curtains immediately snapped shut.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I think I could ask you the same thing.” He had dodged bringing the unrest up as much as she had in past conversations, which was unlike both of them.

“Avoiding the question, are we?” He kept his tone light, but Feyre felt the undercurrent of concern. On a different morning, she might have tried to continue to tease and play, but…she didn’t realize how much of her fear and exhaustion she had been keeping from him. How long until fate tried to tear them apart again?

It haunted her, to think of how they had cheated death thrice. They couldn’t be so lucky again.

“This probably sounds silly, and maybe it’s selfish of me. For the first time in years, it feels like there’s no major disaster looming. Everyone is healthy, and our relationships with the other courts and the continents are going well. I know I shouldn’t be anxious. But it’s as if…for the first time in years – I really have time to think about everything that’s happened. During the War, and after.”

Wordless for once, Rhys just held her, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back.

“I think I’m feeling the same way you are,” he finally said. “Our first few solstices together, the relief was outweighing everything. Surviving the war and everything that came before…”

And Nyx’s birth, too. He didn’t need to say it.

“I just felt so much disbelief that we had made it through, that we had each other. But now…I just keep thinking about all the ways things have gone wrong, all the ways things could go wrong. I know it doesn’t do any good. I don’t want to ruin the present, by dwelling on what-ifs. Perhaps it makes me ungrateful, to still feel grief now. But my mind…it keeps trying to drag me back to times I’d rather not remember.”

“No, Rhys,” Feyre interjected sharply – and she couldn’t deny how cathartic it felt, to hear her own doubts in him. And if she could reassure him – she could reassure herself.

This is what they did. Blamed themselves for things they shouldn’t, patched up each other’s wounds. Held each other through the dark.

It was comforting, to know that she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion. That Rhys was beside her, as he was in so many things.

“I understand,” she continued. “Now that things have settled down. It’s like I actually have time to process some of the things that happened. In a way that…I suppose I didn’t before. I suppose I didn’t want to tell you, to make you feel bad.”

That first solstice, after the war, everything had been so fresh, so new. There had been sorrow, yes, and a sense of loss, but the warmth of love surrounding her for the first time in so long had kept the cold at bay.

Her mate didn’t say anything, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Rhys didn’t say anything for a long while, but she could guess that his mind was half Under the Mountain.

“It’s nothing worth remembering,” he insisted, but she caught the way he stiffened.

Gently, she turned his head to face hers, their eyes meeting. “That doesn’t mean it won’t need a way to come out, one way or another.” If she could save him some nightmares tonight by having this conversation now…

“You’re the one who said you were tired, darling. I shouldn’t be putting on this you.”

She frowned. “Where is this coming from, Rhys? Let me share your burdens, as you share mine.”

Together, as they were in all things.

Still, he frowned. “I…I don’t know if I can right now. Maybe later?”

Rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back, she sent a pulse of understanding down the bond. He hadn’t wanted to talk last night, either, when she had asked him why he was restless.

He would be ready at some point, she trusted, but that conversation wasn’t what he needed right now.

“We can talk about something else. What about other Solstices - when you were younger? How did you celebrate – where did the snowball fight come from?” She asked to get his mind on more pleasant things, but also of her own curiosity. No matter how much she learned of her mate’s 500 years of life, it seemed there was always more to hear.

He considered the question, idly playing with a strand of her golden-brown hair. She snuggled up closer to his comforting warmth.

“When I was very young, my least favorite part was always the court parties I would have to attend. Long, drawn-out events, mostly in Hewn City. Mor and I would always try to sneak off, only for one of our parents or nannies to drag us back by our ears.”

“Your parents let a child attend revels in the Court of Nightmares?” she asked incredulously. She had seen parties there that bordered on orgies.

“Oh, we were sent to bed long before things were that wild. The night felt like it dragged on long enough as it was – once, Mor almost fell asleep, falling face first into her roasted duck.”

“As I’m sure is no surprise, my father wasn’t much of a family man. Certainly not by the time I was born. If it wasn’t for my mother, I’m sure we barely would have celebrated outside the Court of Nightmares. And my mother, for as much as her chosen family meant to her, quickly realized that the strife of getting my father to stop thinking about politics for one day was more trouble than it was worth. When I was training in Illyria, it often got a little quieter around Solstice. For most, it was their only leave for the year. I was one of the lucky ones, with my mother living in camp, and my father occasionally dragging me away for one of his own lessons…”

“What a lucky little High Lord, getting special privileges,” Feyre teased, flicking his nose.

Rhys scoffed. “If you can call sitting through endless meetings in the Court of Nightmares, or being chased through the woods by whatever my father decided to send after me “special privileges.”

“But what I meant was that Cassian didn’t have any family they cared to visit outside of the camps. So there were years when it was just my mother and the two of us – later the three of us, once Azriel showed up. She would make special treats, and always sewed new clothes for the three of us. I wish I could say our gifts were always as thoughtful.” He chuckled. “At the very least, she always made a show of being pleased with whatever we had come up with. Those are some of my favorite Solstice memories.”

She felt his mental presence gently slipping through the walls of her mind, sharing a memory through his eyes, of his mother and his brothers, eating cookies and sharing presents by the crackling fire.

“I swear, I never would have thought such a thing was possible, but after my sister was born, she softened my father. When Celeste was young, there were a few years when the four of us would get together in Velaris. My sister would throw a fit if my father didn’t make some kind of effort to be with us through the holidays – and with anyone else, I would have sworn the holiday would have been better without the prick. But…he was kinder to her. Like he wanted to give her the childhood the rest of us hadn’t been afforded.”

Feyre listened attentively; hand braced gently on his arm as Rhys immersed himself in the years long past. 

“Celeste loved the holidays. Loved any reason to celebrate. Her favorite tradition was always baking, and she’d stay in the kitchen for hours and help my mother and the servants prepare dessert. When she got a little older, she would always try and join my brothers and I during our snowball fights. I would usually tell her to stop being a pest. But Az…he was the good one. He would let her join his team, pummel Cass and I. Of course, we’d always tell him that his win that year didn’t count, since he had extra help.” Her mate smiled at the memory.

“What else?” Feyre asked softly, eager to learn more pieces about the girl she had never met.

“She loved to ice skate. That was usually what the two of us did together.”

“You? On ice skates?” Feyre couldn’t help but interject in disbelief, incredulous at the idea of Rhys gliding across the ice. Not that he wasn’t graceful, but it didn’t exactly fit in with the idea of Illyrian brute strength.

“You doubt my abilities? I was an excellent skater. I’m the one who taught Celeste.”

She pictured Rhys, the dutiful big brother, spinning around on the ice with his sister, faster and faster, both of them laughing and carefree.

“You said you were an excellent skater. Are you still?”

“I haven’t done it in years, but you should know I’m a quick study,” he said slyly.

“Would you want to pick it up again?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why don’t we do all of those things. The skating, the baking,” Feyre suggested.

He didn't answer for a moment, turning over her words, and Feyre was struck by the thought that he might not want part in these traditions with anyone other than his sister, that she was invading on a treasured memory.

Before she could brush her words away, change the subject, a smile played at Rhys's lips.

“You wouldn’t be bored? Doing all of these old traditions with me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not! And…I think it would help me, too, to spend time with you. To just be. I’ve been trying to stay so busy and focused on the future, our future, but…I can’t outrun everything. Maybe, if we can find some time, it could be good. To just be together, in the moment.”

And maybe if they were lucky, the magic of Solstice could bring a little healing to them both.  

"I'd like that a lot. We could bring Nyx along, too.”

“There are three days until Solstice. How many activities do you think we can fit in?”

“You’re in luck, my darling wife. As an early birthday present, I’ve cleared both of our calendars. Now, I’ll admit the activities I had in mind originally were a little more…physical,” he said, and she was very aware of his hand creeping up the side of her shirt, “but…few things would make me happier.”

“Well then, it sounds like a plan,” Feyre said, pressing a long, slow kiss to his mouth.

And for the first time in days, she felt lighter.

[sitp-recs]

Hey, I love your recs! They're actually what originally got me into drarry ages ago.

I was wondering, do you have any eighth year or soon after the war recs where Draco is out and happy and Harry is just dead and depressed? I've really wanted to see happy and finally free Draco (like when the Prophet LOVES Draco after the war) and Harry is just done with it all?

I've been dying to read some these, but I can't find any that hit the spot. Thanks for all you do!

Thank you, that makes me so happy! 🥹 I can’t think of any fics where the Prophet loves Draco, but these might work for you. They’re not all set in the immediate post-war tbh, but Harry is inspired by a free, confident Draco. I also have a list for out & proud Draco and for sad/closeted Harry. Enjoy!

Starstruck by phrynne (E, 4.5k)

Yeah, Malfoy has pink hair. Or sort of. Half of his hair is shaved short and dyed an aggressive pink. The other half is still white-blond, a strand falling over his right eye, only the left side of his face visible at all times. He turns it slightly and spots me beyond the moving bodies. He doesn’t stop dancing, a smile plays on his lips. This time I don’t look away like I used to when all this began.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by calrissian18 (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

A Year in Training by Omi_Ohmy (M, 25k)

Harry is finally living his dream and training as an Auror, but nothing seems to be going right: he’s just so angry all the time. And Draco Malfoy’s presence on the programme really isn’t helping with that, either.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by Writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.