#instead we got only one sentence about each one of our companions and that was just a summary of their personal quests' endings

[night-orchids]

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neve and davrin about setting up a shop together after everything is done

[sabraeal]

If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Written for @claudeng80, who has been waiting longer than a month now for this birthday fic, and who has indeed beta'd this birthday fic as well, for we long ago passed the point where we pretend with each other that our final drafts are our first drafts. And though she cannot and will never see those first drafts because that is a layer of vulnerability on par with peeling off my skin to show off my bones, she can at least see my seconds drafts. Where she will then promptly tell me that I am missing a crucial word in a sentence, and maybe I should consider a comma or maybe a whole ass period, or possibly learn to spell words the way the god or at least the Oxford Dictionary intended. Because that is what friendship is all about 🤣

The problem is: it feels like too much.

The suitcase had been a given, of course; Chizuru only had the one, a gift from Father on her twelfth birthday, meant to be used on the single vacation he’d set aside time to take her on. Even after six years, the flower decals still looked like they’d been applied yesterday, pink a vibrant cherry blossom, only the dint on one corner to serve as proof it had ever been used. Disney World might have only lasted two days before a work emergency had them hopping the next flight back home, but at least the Orlando baggage carousel had left its mark. It’d been a happy reminder of better days when she’d been living out of it for those few weeks, unsure of where she would land— or whether she ever would.

It’s only— she hadn’t thought it would be full. Chizuru wouldn’t call herself a light packer by any means, but the event’s only three days, at a hotel that is possibly twenty minutes door-to-door, at least when school’s in session. It hardly seems like the sort of thing that calls for a suitcase filled to the brim. Above the brim even, if she were gutsy enough to take Kimigiku’s costume out of the garment bag— which she isn’t. It’d been heart-pounding enough putting Sen’s paper-wrapped kimono in there, let alone something with parts and pieces and things that could very easily scatter under her bed skirt and be lost for eternity.

Which brought her tally to one suitcase (over laden), one garment bag (to be treated with care), and the small travel pack she’d slung over her chest (overstuffed), gone over a half dozen times each, pared down to the barest bones, and still, still—

She can’t possibly take up this much space. Even in Shinpachi’s Range Rover, it’s too much. Maybe if she tried again, this time—?

3:15, her lock screen reads, a little snowflake sitting beside the 33°F below. Haah, with a four o’clock check in, there’s no chance of her whittling her luggage past the basics. Not unless she want to be late, and if she’s late, then—

Then everyone will be waiting for her. All of them clustered at the bottom of the stairs, watching the time tick down as she tries to decide if she really needs an extra pair of underwear or another package of hair ties. Just the thought threatens to have her break out in a full-body rash.

With a steeling breath, she adjusts her travel pack and rolls out to the hallway. A proposition that would be easier if not for the wall-to-wall carpets in the hall, but Chizuru manages to steer her suitcase competently enough, drawing up to the stairs with enough confidence to survive the six sets of eyes sure to turn her way—

Only to find two instead. Not waiting on her either— no, Yamazaki’s got his head bent close to Hajime, hands shaking with emphasis as he hisses, “I don’t care if he’s done hours before anyone else, I’m not getting in a car with him.”

“I was not insinuating that I would make you,” Hajime intones with weary patience. “I merely wanted to mention the likelihood of Souji being the first of our companions to finish with his preparations.”

“And I’m telling you that I’m not—”

It’s not on purpose; between fight or flight, Chizuru’s legs have chosen freeze, and she’s perfectly resigned to stand statue-still up here, silent and just out of sight. But her suitcase chooses to make it known to everyone in the major metropolitan area that one of its wheels is not perfectly situated on the landing. It tilts, the aggrieved wheel letting out a plaintive squeak— and that’s all it takes for Hajime’s eyes to narrow, slanting up to the top step.

“Good afternoon, Yukimura,” he says, oddly pointed. “It seems you are ready to head to the hotel.”

“Ah…” Her suitcase clunks down the next step with her, wheels spinning. “Yes. I just, um…”

Have to survive these stairs, she swallows down, gritting out a smile instead. She tries to lift her case and garment bag all together, but—

“Yukimura.” Long, well-clipped fingers wrap around the side handle, quite literally taking the weight out her hands. “Would it be alright if I handled this for you?”

“Oh.” Yamazaki’s not a tall man, not by any measure, but in the dim light of the stairway, he looms, and it— it flusters her, free hand fluttering uselessly between them. “I-I can’t possibly ask you to—”

“You’re not.” Hajime hovers at the bottom of the banister, a strange sort of lightness in his voice. If Chizuru didn’t know better she might call it…bubbly. “He is.”

“O-oh.” She stares down at the hand still clenched around a handle, willing each finger to release knuckle by knuckle, so slow it feels like someone else’s hand entirely. “Then…thank you, I guess.”

Yamazaki spares her a nod and a terse, “No problem,” right before he lifts her suitcase and—

And rams it right into the floral wallpaper.

“Nice,” Hajime hums, appreciative.

Yamazaki’s still flushed when he glares down, snapping, “I don’t see you helping.”

“And get between you and serving hime-sama?” Hajime’s not one to smirk— honestly, he’s not much on smiling either, save by millimeters— but a corner of his mouth trembles as Yamazaki tromps down the last few stairs, stormy as one of their winter squalls. “I would never.”

His jaw doesn’t so much open as fall, working, as if he needed a good running start to get his next words out. Chizuru simply slips around his side, asking brightly, “Have you been waiting long?”

“We were just discussing who we thought would be next in finishing their preparations,” Hajime tells her, not really answering her question. Experience tells her that means ‘a long time.’ “Although Shinpachi could fit the seven of us in his vehicle, we would more comfortably divide into three and four amongst two cars, and since I have a perfectly serviceable sedan”— Chizuru’s confusion must show her face, since one look at her has him hauling to a stop, coughing to clear his throat— “I mean to say, we were waiting for our third.”

“Oh.” She blinks, glancing between the two of them. “I guess that’s me?”

“So it seems.” There it is, that tremble at the corner of Hajime’s mouth, threatening to curl. For a moment, she’s certain it will, but he turns his head away, casting a speculative look down the hall. “Should we wait to take on another passenger, or—?”

“Better not risk it.” Hajime half-turns toward Yamazaki, disappointment palpable, and he adds, “Oh come on, Nagakura has the bigger car.”

“That doesn’t mean we should—”

Whatever Hajime means to say is lost in the tangle of boy and bag clattering down the stairs, the struggle so loud Chizuru’s ears still ring even after it’s over.

“Oh hey,” Heisuke says, cheerfully emerging from the tumble. “You guys haven’t left?”

Yamazaki blinks. “Not…yet…”

“We were just discussing if we should wait,” Hajime says. “Since Shinpachi’s vehicle might be preferable to the remaining passengers.”

“Nah, those guys are gonna take forever to get ready. Sano has a whole bag just for his freaking hair! And not only that, but him and Shinpachi have been fighting for the last ten minutes over who owns this styling gel or whatever, which like, who cares? But still” — Heisuke stops to catch his breath— “You got room for one more?”

Yamazaki and Hajime exchange looks. Just what exactly they’re saying, Chizuru can’t even begin to guess.

“Well,” Hajime hums, bemused. “That does handle one problem.”

“Fine.” Yamazaki sighs, hefting a bag over his shoulder. “Let’s just go already.”

*

Despite all her fretting, her suitcase fits easily into the back of Hajime’s Elantra, slotting into the last spot in the trunk with little more than a twist and a lift. It helps that all Heisuke has is a duffel, crammed into the corner with all the care of a dirty sock being returned to the hamper.

“Don’t you have costume parts in there?” Yamazaki manages around a grimace; one that only deepens at Heisuke’s shrug.

“It’s fine.” He gives the bag one last good shove, wedging it firmly against the side. “I just threw it together. And Sano says he’s gonna bring all the sticks or whatever—”

“They’re boffers,” Hajime interjects, “technically.”

“Yeah, that.” Heisuke claps him on the back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Hotels have those iron thingies, don’t they?”

Both eyebrows hitch up to Hajime’s hairline. “You know how to use an iron?”

Heisuke’s face crumples in confusion. “Well, no. But how hard can it be?”

Plenty is the answer, though Chizuru’s in no mind to give it, not when she’s preoccupied with trying to hang her garment bag on the hook over the window. Yamazaki and Hajime had made it look easy, but hers just keeps sitting wrong, taking up too much space and—

“You can take the front.”

She blinks up, half spilled out of the back seat, right up into Yamazaki’s concerned frown. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you wanted. It’s probably, er, nicer than having to share the back with—” his gazes darts over her head, to where Hajime patiently coaches Heisuke in the proper way to treat his personal items— “anyone.”

Her hands fly up, waving between them. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly! I can’t have you sit back here with my bag in your way.”

“We have bags back there too,” he reminds her, leaving the ‘and we’re definitely making Heisuke deal with it’ unspoken. “It’s only fair for me to make the offer.”

“Ah, I suppose…” She runs her fingers down the seam of her garment bag, considering. “But really, I’ll be fine. I’m sure Hajime would prefer to have you as his copilot!”

His mouth furrows, the perfect counterpoint to the storm brewing on his brow. “Yukimura—”

“All done!” Heisuke bursts onto the bench seat beside her, quivering with the same energy as a dog wagging his tail. “We gonna get this show on the road soon?”

Yamazaki’s mouth pulls too thin for a sigh to slip through; instead it all rushes out of his nose, coming to an abrupt halt when he glances down at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to change seats?”

 “Hey! What’s up with this thing?” There’s not a lot of Heisuke, but what there is stretches across the seat, reaching out to give her garment bag one good tug. It’s like magic— one minute it’s shoving a shoulder across her seat, and the next it’s tucked into the handle, laying flat against where the door would be. “There, all set.”

He settles back, utterly nonchalant, as if he didn’t realize he’d done anything exceptional at all. Chizuru fails to stifle a laugh.

“Yes,” she says, giving Yamazaki one of her brightest smiles. “I think I'll get along just fine.”

*

“Woah? This is the place?” Heisuke jabs a finger toward the glass doors beneath the portico, duffel slung over his shoulder. “You sure?”

“Of course it is.” Yamazaki steps into the revolving door, suitcase clattering at his heels. “Haven’t you seen the campus hotel before?”

“Well, like, not up close,” he admits, following him through. “But this is nice. Like nice-nice. Are you sure they’re gonna give us discounts on a place this swanky?”

Chizuru has to admit, she’s thinking the same. From the outside, it didn’t seem like anything much— just another brutalist building squatting on campus, only with better parking access— but on the inside…

“Is this marble?” she murmurs faintly, nervously mincing across the floor. A hundred dollars for the weekend seemed like a steal when she’d thought it’d have the same level of amenities as a Holiday Inn Express. Now it’s practically highway robbery. “And the chandeliers…?”

“Satsuma Estates has been very kind to our organization since it started,” Saito informs them as he emerges from the door, his own suitcase coming to rest at his heels. “Most of their meeting spaces are influenced by traditional Japanese aesthetics, which meets our standards for a desirable location, and on their part, we are regular, respectful customers who—”

“We hold our biggest events during the part of the fiscal year where there isn’t much in the way of guests.” Yamazaki’s mouth slants, almost sly. “Spending New Year’s Eve on an empty campus in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.”

“So we get to have this place all to ourselves?” Heisuke eyes a vase that could have been just as at home in the Forbidden Palace as it was in a hotel lobby. “And they don’t have a problem with us running around in our costumes? I mean, with the swords and everything?”

“Boffers,” Hajime reminds him at the same time Yamazaki sighs, “They’re just foam.”

There’s a look that passes between them; a weary one, at least for Yamazaki’s part, though Hajime…well, Chizuru could hardly pretend to be an expert on the minute changes that marked a shift in his moods. But if she had to hazard a guess, she might say…amused.

“The more regular players typically bring foam or rubber replicas, with little intention to use them outside of aesthetic accuracy.” Hajime nods his chin toward a plastic pipe leaning against the front desk, both ends thickly padded and wrapped in what looked like duct tape. “New ones or the more…martially oriented roles usually elect to use boffers. Regardless, any weapon paraphernalia is inspected and registered at check-in.”

“They are also not allowed to be drawn outside the designated bounds of a scene,” Yamazaki adds, not a little stern as he surveys the crowd. “Personal combat sequences usually require advanced warning as well, since they have to prepare an area especially to accommodate—”

“Hold up. ‘Personal combat sequences?’”

“Duels,” Hajime clarifies.

Heisuke’s eyes pulse wide. “Duels? Really? We can have one of those?”

“As honor demands.”

“Woah.” There’s a new level of respect in Heisuke’s eyes as he scans the room. “And everyone follows the rules?”

“Yes,” Hajime says as Yamazaki grunts, “Mostly.”

Another look slings between them, though this time Chizuru doesn’t mistake the censure in Hajime’s stare.

“They say we’re better behaved than a regular convention,” Yamazaki allows, begrudgingly. “Or at least, we smell better.”

Heisuke blinks. “Smell better?”

He huffs out something in the neighborhood of a laugh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Should we get in line?” Chizuru eyes the crush creeping toward the front desk, barely contained by the black tape borders. “It seems like there’s already a bit of a wait to get through…”

“Jeez! That’s a lot of people!” Heisuke startles, like he’s only just noticed. “I thought this was supposed to be small?”

“Our usual group is around twenty to thirty members.” Hajime casts a speculative look over the lobby. “But for our weekend events, it can easily double.”

“Dude, this is definitely more than double—”

“Why don’t we check into the event first?” Yamazaki juts his chin toward the hall past the lobby, tightening his grip on his bags. “If everyone’s out here, then there can’t be much of a line there.”

Heisuke’s mouth clicks shut with a shrug. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

*

The event’s check-in is down the hall from the real one, just inside the first exhibit hall they come across— nearly empty, just like Yamazaki said, the number of people loitering around denser behind the tables than in front of them. For the two boys who are best known as the only ones in the roommate agreement who possess some sense of caution, there’s no hesitation, no moment for them to take in the currents of the room and pick the best course— both beeline straight for one of the tables, lining up with all the ease of habit. Chizuru follows after them, not on their heels, like Heisuke, but taking in the size of the room, in how there’s a few people clinging to the corners, their conversations hushed but curious as they pass.

There’s a mountain of a man in front of them, made larger for how the seams of his button down strain at the shoulders to contain his hunch, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s familiar. Especially when he stands, unfurling head and shoulders taller than all of them and—

“Yamazaki.” The man doesn’t so much speak as rumble, like far away thunder, turning to them with a warm smile. “I see you did bring your friends after all.”

“M-Mr Shimada,” Chizuru gasps, heat flooding her cheeks. “I didn’t even—?”

Recognize you, she nearly says, but he’s wearing the same button down and slacks he does behind his desk, looking every inch like the professor he is. Or at least, will be, once he’s made the jump from adjunct.

Think you’d be here is more accurate, but the longer she considers the idea, the less improbable it seems. He’s a history professor after all— the kind that keeps replica swords mounted on his office wall, right above the pictures of his wife and kids. An active kendo instructor at the campus gym too, plus a dozen other martial arts she can only half remember the syllables of. She’d already seen him do demonstrations with live steel at the freshman orientation fair, dressed up in a kimono and hakama. And when she thinks about it like that, it’s honestly more surprising that he’s the only one from the department here.

A chill shivers up her spine. He’s the only member of the department she sees. That doesn’t mean he’s the only one in attendance. Her eyes skitter out over the hall, searching for stiff shoulders or the lingering scent of Marlboro—

“He’s brought quite a few friends this time.”

Chizuru startles, but it’s not an expletive that’s been dragged over gravel— no, it’s the reedy voice of the man behind the table, a wide smile pulled across a face as dainty and delicate as a doll’s. And yet when those large eyes fix on her— not the same shocking green of Souji’s, but something softer, mossier, more natural— there’s no innocence behind them, just the ceaseless churning of a great machine.

“Though I see not all of them have made it yet.” He rises, half out of his seat and hand outstretched. “I take it this is…?”

A narrow set of shoulders steps between them. “Heisuke!”

The man blinks, impossibly long eyelashes batting against porcelain pale cheeks, but his smile doesn’t lose any of its shine. “Ah, yes, of course, Heisuke. How nice that you’ve decided to join us. I’m Keisuke Ootori, one of the game masters.”

“Thanks for having me,” Heisuke says, so easy, and— and it would be nice to be like that, to be so confident of being welcome that pleasantries don’t turn oddly personal; that saying hello doesn’t come off as desperate. “It’s my first time doing this whole LARP thing!”

“You don’t say.” Keisuke’s mild gaze slants toward Yamazaki, mouth hitched at a corner. “Well, any friend of Hajime and Susumu’s is a friend of ours.”

“Su…Susu…?” Heisuke blinks, rolling his eyes to stare at Yamazaki. “…Mu..?”

“Don’t start.”

“Now, you were playing…?” A finger runs down the binder in front of him, stopping with a victorious tap. “Matsu Yoshitora, the beastmaster.”

“He’s lion clan!” Heisuke leans over the table, practically quivering without a tail to wag. “Because that’s my fursona.”

“Oh.” There it is again, that little wobble at the corner of his mouth, that dart of his eyes to where Yamazaki stands, hands clapped over his face. “Isn’t that nice.”

“I don’t know him,” Yamazaki says through his fingers, ears blazing bright red. “He just followed us in.”

“What Heisuke means,” Hajime interjects with beatific levels of patience, “it that the lion is his favorite animal. At least out of the options presented in the player’s guide.”

“Ah, I see.” Teeth peek through his smile when the game master turns back to Heisuke, fingers knitted over his binder. “You know, one of our other players has a whole functioning tengu suit. I think you might get along.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Yamazaki grumbles, but it’s too late, Heisuke’s already nodding his head, saying, “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds cool.”

“It sure is. Technically impressive too. Now, if you have weapons”—his hand sweeps out toward the table cozened up to his, and the girl behind it— “Marie can take care of their registration.”

“They’re not here yet,” Heisuke hurries to tell him— and as an afterthought, her. “They’re in the other car.”

“If you can describe it, we can get the process started.” The girl— Marie— smiles, but it doesn’t have the same warmth as Keisuke’s. It’s perfunctory, precise, and certainly satisfies Heisuke, since he slides right over and starts trying to gesture dimensions. But still, Chizuru can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something cold beneath that polite smile, something pointed about the way her eyes avoid anything past the midline of the tables—

“Now, you”— Keisuke’s angles sharpen, teeth flashing behind his smile— “must be Hime-sama.”

Conversation careens to a halt, even the restless murmurs from the corners of the room pressed into silence.

“Ah…um…yes.” Chizuru shuffles a hesitant step closer. “Chizuru. I mean, I’m Chizuru”— he only smiles wider at her blush— “I’m playing Doji Kaoru.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Chizuru.” He presses a gallant hand to his chest, a sparkle lurking in the corners of his eyes. “And Kaoru. We’ve been waiting a long time to do something with Hime-sama…”

“O-oh! Really?” Her stomach knots itself before hurtling to her throat, bile sour on the back of her tongue. “I’m sorry— it must be so much trouble to— I can always play someone else if it’s going to ruin—”

“On the contrary, Chizuru! You saved us quite a bit of trouble. Especially poor Marie here.” He jerks a thumb toward where she sits, studiously ignoring their conversation. “But on that note— once we’ve wrapped up with check-in, I’d like to talk to the three of you.”

“U-us?” Every hair stands on end. “Are we in…in trouble?”

She could pass out just considering it. Her name’s barely gotten crossed off the list, and already she’s being called in to the principal’s office to explain herself. If only—

“No, no, not at all. In fact, the opposite”— he laughs as he leans in, lowering his voice to a stage whisper— “we’d like you to raise a little trouble.”

“O-oh.” She clasps her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Okay? I guess.”

“We’ll discuss it in a bit.” He settles back, tilting his chin toward the table next to him. “Now if you have any weapons to register, you can—”

“I don’t.”

His words grind to a halt. “You…don’t?”

“No.” She blinks, fingers clenching painfully tight. “Is that…bad?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, the warmth still radiating from his smile— but there’s a sharpness to it too. An edge an unwary finger could cut itself on. “That’s perfect.”

*

“Hey, Shinpachi! Sano!” Heisuke bolts like a dog let off his leash as they round the corner to the lobby. There’s more than a few people that stand head-and-shoulders above this crowd, but no-one besides Harada shines bright apple red under the light, hair so glossy and soft Chizuru wonders just what he uses for conditioner. “Look! I got this cool bracelet.”

His wrist thrusts out right under their noses, fluorescent green so close their eyes nearly cross just trying to look, but Shinpachi just pushes it out to a visible distance and grins. “Sweet, bro! Where do I get myself one of these babies?”

“Around the corner.” Heisuke puffs out his chest, free hand hooking onto his hip. “There’s a girl handing them out. Look, Chizuru’s got one too, and—”

“Do they really think I’m going wear that?” Souji doesn’t so much arrive as appear, gone one moment and holding her wrist the next, like the neighborhood cat that only winds itself around her ankles when she’s throwing out old chicken bones. One finger slips beneath the pink band, tugging like he hopes it’ll give. “I’d rather cut my wrist off.”

“If you’re not having fun,” Yamazaki sniffs, “you can just go home.”

Souji’s sneer hones to a point. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, nerd.”

Yamazaki’s jaw works, breath so heavy Chizuru’s half worried it might steam, but before he can manage to marshal anything beyond ‘you—’ Hajime replied, “Yes, the bracelet is required. It marks us out as participants in the event, as well as informs security at a glance that any weapons on our person have been registered and approved by the game masters.”

“Wow, really?” Shinpachi blinks, prodding at Heisuke’s band. “Is there some sort of chip in there or something? RFID or whatever?”

“Er, no.” Yamazaki scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s just the color. Green means he’s only got one registered.”

“Blue is two,” Hajime offers, flashing his own wrist. “As I wear both tachi and tanto.”

“Oh!” Chizuru blinks down at her pink band. “What about mine?”

“You do not possess any weaponry,” he tells her, tone taking a surprised lilt. “Either visible or concealed.”

“What?” Yamazaki catches her wrist up in one hand, long fingers feather-light across her pulse, and he blinks at the band like he’s never seen a red paler than fire engine. “You didn’t bring anything?”

“I…” hadn’t known that would be an option. “Is that bad?”

“Ah, no.” His eyes meet hers, pulling wide before his fingers flinch, both hands and gaze skittering away from her. “Just…unorthodox, maybe.”

“I just thought…Kaoru is a courtier.” She shies beneath a shrug, cheeks flushed. “That means that she would put more weight on her words rather than, er…”

Hajime nods. “A good character choice, Yukimura. One that may also have complicated consequences, depending on the sort of story the game masters would like to tell.”

“Oh.” Her throat squeezes, the first prickle of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” A hand falls gently onto her shoulder, fingers tightening in the barest squeeze when she dares to glance up. Yamazaki may not be one for smiles either, but there’s a faint one clinging to the corners of his mouth now, both amused and— and something else. Fond, maybe. “You’re with us, Yukimura. Experienced players live for complications.”

It’s warm where his hand presses to her, even through her coat, and her tongue tangles trying to find the right word, to find the compromise between thank you and I’m sorry, but—

But Souji saunters right up between them, flicking the band at Yamazaki’s wrist. “Hey, if all these colors are supposed to have some meaning or whatever, what’s with the lame ass purple?”

Yamazaki snatches his hand off her shoulder, cradling it against his chest. “What if you just—?”

“It means that he keeps up to the event maximum,” Hajime informs him mildly. “Concealed.”

Harada frowns, considering the band. “And just how many is that?”

“Five.”

“Woah!” Shinpachi takes a half step back, Heisuke quick to follow suit. “That, uh….that’s pretty impressive. Do a, uh…lot of people do that, or…?”

“No, it’s special dispensation,” Hajime clarifies casually. “Only a handful of players ever display the responsibility and mastery of play to earn the right.”

“No way!” Heisuke suddenly no longer shrinks from but stretches toward Yamazaki, an eager grin tugging at his lips. “Dude, are you like, really cool?”

Souji sniffs. “Only if hell has frozen over.”

For once, Yamazaki doesn’t rise to his bait, merely shaking his head. “No, no. It’s really not that big a deal—”

“Uh-huh.” Harada crosses his arms, one corner of his mouth curling toward a smirk. “And just how many people have a band like yours?”

He hesitates— too long, since Hajime is quick to offer, “Three.”

Yamazaki flushes under the sudden spurt of attention turned his way. “Saito would have one too, if he wanted it! It’s just— shinobi carry knives!”

“Lots of ‘em, apparently,” Shinpachi mutters, impressed.

"That's not--!"

“Ah, hey, Chizuru…” Harada turns to her with a sheepish look, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You know, the bunch of us already checked in here, so uh, why don’t you guys go on up?”

“M-me?” She blinks, on hand resting against her chest. “B-but…”

It’s habit to turn to Yamazaki, to leave space for him to air his own thoughts, his own opinions drawn from forethought and experience, but—

But he’s too busy stumbling under the hand Shinpachi claps to his back, looking like he’d like the carpet to swallow him whole.

“Ah!” Her fingers squeeze tight. “Um, yes. Sure. I’ll…get on that.”

*

The line’s smaller than it was when they first arrived; no longer a crush of people and garment bags and boffers, but a more subdued queue. It’s in no way quick— it moves along, but there’s time to idle between their forays forward, Heisuke pressing Hajime about clans and combat and conspiracies while Yamazaki surreptitiously checks his phone. Never for long, just a click on and off of the screen, like he’s waiting for something, and—

“Next, please.”

“Yukimura,” Hajime intones, utterly serious. “It is your turn.”

She jolts up from her suitcase, eyeing the open desk. “O-oh! Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you all from—?”

“Next customer, please!” another clerk calls from further down as the cluster of people in front of her walk away, polite smile already tacked in place. “Please approach the desk when you’re ready to check in!”

“That’s us,” Yamazaki says, skirting his suitcase wide as he steps around her. “We’ll wait for you when you’re done.”

“Don’t look at me,” Heisuke says, even as she does. “I’m just here for the company. Sano and Shinpachi already handled my room.”

“A-alright.” Hand wrapped tight around her suitcase handle, she rolls forward, knees barely trembling. “H-hello. I have a reservation?”

The receptionist smiles down at her. “Can I have your name?”

“Chizuru Yukimura?” She rises onto her toes, neck craned to watch the woman key her name into their computer, as if that might somehow help her find it. “I should have a single—?”

“Single…? Oh, hm.” The receptionist sits back in her hips, stymied. “I’m actually seeing one of our queen suites?”

A chill races down her spine. “Ah, no, but I— it definitely was supposed to be a single.”

At least it was when she booked it; it was the only thing she could afford, even with the discount. And even then—

“Oh! I see.” A couple clacks across the keyboard brightens the receptionist’s smile by a couple of watts. “It seems you’ve been given a free upgrade to one of our deluxe suites!”

Nothing good comes for free, Father’s voice blares in her ear, they only want to hide a cost you would hesitate pay. Her stomach twists, cold seeping up her throat. “F-free? I don’t have to, er, sign up for anything, or…?”

The receptionist relaxes with clear relief. Chizuru wishes she could do the same. “Yes, completely for free, at no extra charge!”

It’s impossible to swallow past the lump in her throat. “W-why? Did I do something…?”

“It doesn’t say on the reservation.” Her shoulders offer up a scant shrug under her blazer. “We must have run out of single rooms.”

“But…” It’s worse this way, she wants to say, the words clawing in her throat. Because I didn’t earn it. “I…”

“Yukimura.” Yamazaki steps up beside her, furrowed brows already aimed over the counter. “Is everything all right?”

“A-ah, yes!” Chizuru drops her heels, shuffling back from the counter. “It was just…something with the room…?”

“Ms Yukimura received a free upgrade to her reservation,” the receptionist replies cheerily. “Give me one moment, I’ll activate your key.”

“Free upgrade?” He blinks down at her. “Is there something wrong, or—?”

“No!” It’s ridiculous how much of a scene she’s making— anyone else would have just received it with a smile, happy to have gotten the extra mile out of their money, but here she is, half faint, making a mountain out of a molehill. “It’s fine, really.”

The corners of his mouth bite deeper into his cheeks, unconvinced. “Are you sure? One of us could always—?”

“Here you go, ma’am— 1204.” The receptionist hands over a small envelope, two keys nestled inside. With one glance at Yamazaki, her smile slants, angle all-too knowing. “Enjoy your stay. Next customer, please?”

He frowns, knuckles blanching where they grip his bag. “Yukimura—”

“It’s fine!” Her teeth grit down in a smile. “Really, it is. Let’s just get settled in.”

*

The elevator doors ding in distress as Harada wraps his whole hand around one side of them, refusing to let them slide shut. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to come with you? It’s not that far out of the way.”

It’s four floors at least— her twelve to their eight— and with how the halls stretch across this landing, the lobby central to the rest of the rooms, it’s impossible to say how far of a hike. “No no, it’s fine. I can handle finding it myself.”

“We’re not worried about your sense of direction, Chizu.” Shinpachi crosses his arms over his chest, forbidding. “But what if someone gets weird with you while you’re wandering around up there?”

“Of course that’s your problem with all this,” Souji snorts, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Chizuru gets an upgrade and suddenly you’re all acting like there’s lions trying to split the lame gazelle from the herd. What’s the problem, think someone’s going to make eyes at her getting ice if she doesn’t have at least three of you to scare ‘em off?”

“This is serious,” Shinpachi spits. “There’s a lot of people in this place right now—”

“A serious waste of my time.” With a desultory wave of his fingers, Souji stalks off down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Chizuru’s already said she’s fine. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Harada hums, his too-kind eyes looming over her. “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s fine for one of us to—”

“No, I’m okay, really.” Chizuru lets her mouth pull wide, hoping her smile is more confident than she is. “You guys need to get your stuff settled. We can meet up later for dinner.”

Harada hesitates, struggling against another distressed ding. “I don’t know…”

“You have your phone, don’t you?” Yamazaki drags his glare from Souji’s back to where she stands, softening. “You’ll call if you need to?”

“Ah, yes!” It takes a moment to fish her phone from her bag, opening and closing zippers as Harada slowly, by inches, loses his struggle against the doors. “Right here!”

She waves it, lock screen bright in the car, and Harada loosens his grip. “As long as you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” The words echo behind closed doors, her stomach rolling as the elevator lurches upward. She glances down at her screen, just in time to see it flash 20% at the corner before going black. “I think.”

*

It’s the toots that startle her as she creeps down the hall, suitcase wheels rattling across the close-textured carpet, the loudest noise she’s heard since the elevator doors closed behind her. Her grip tightens around her garment bag, weight shifting back on her heels, ready to turn tail and run, but—

But it’s her. The tooting, that is. Or rather, her phone. Embarrassing how long it takes her to think of it, really, but she does, slipping it right out of the pocket she’d tucked it into. 15% it reads now, but that’s not what draws her attention, not when there’s a notification with Sen’s smiling face beaming beside it. did you make it?

The breath rushes from her lungs, half-sigh, half-laugh. Two steps away. Thanks for asking.

It takes an improbable amount of minutes to manage those two-steps, however. Maybe Harada could have made it in one— or Shinpachi, even— baggage all happily come to heel, card in hand, but Chizuru has to trip over hers first, juggling garment bag and suitcase and half-unzipped travel pack until she realizes she can just put her phone away to free up that critical hand. Even still, there’s rustling and shuffling to trade one flat slip of plastic for another, the envelope half bobbling out of her hands before she manages to prise one of those little cards free.

And then, with a wave of her hand— well, a couple of waves, trying to figure out just how to place the card before she just presses it to the pad at the handle— she’s in. Except—

Except it’s not a bedroom. No, it’s a small living area, couch and TV and a half-wall of a kitchenette, a few chairs scattered around. Chizuru toes off her shoes, parking her suitcase neatly beside them, and peers into the next nearest door— bathroom, the glass enclosed shower tucked into one corner and a huge tub beside it, big enough to fit at least three of her inside without touching. She pads her way across, tiles cold even through her socks, and opens the other door, leading out into—

The bedroom, finally. The queen suite with what has to be the largest queen she’s ever seen.

Her fingers fumble her phone from its pocket, flicking past the lock screen straight to the camera—

Only for, anyone swallow their tongues yet?🤭 to flash right across the top of the screen.

There’s no costumes tonight, only a dinner! Tomorrow will be our first opportunity to be in character Though I don’t think anyone will be swallowing their tongues when I’m dressed as a boy 😅

Chizuru clicks back through to the camera, tapping the screen to focus, but—

“Are those leaves?” She blinks, first at the screen, and then, as she lowers it, the bed covers. Which, as she suspected, is littered with…some sort of nature. She steps close, pinching one velvety piece of detritus between her fingers and murmurs, “Petals?”

Well, she can’t have that.

boo have some confidence!!! you look super cute in that jinbei i bet *someone’s* heart will flutter at the very least

Her neck swivels, this way and that, trying to find someplace— anyplace— where it’s safe to put down her phone, hopefully close to hand, and— ah, there it is, the bedside table. She sets it down, turning back to the bed with a shake of her head. To think, in a hotel as nice as this one, they had just let someone track in half the outside with them.

It takes her a moment to find the trash can hidden beneath the table, but after that, it’s just a matter of goading all the plant stuff off the cover and into it. A bit more work than she thought she’d be putting into settling it, but it’s worth it to have a clean place to sit when Sen asks, is your room nice?

Very!!! I reserved a single, but it seems they had run out of them, so they gave me a free upgrade 😱 The room’s huge! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed this big!

With a proud grin tugging at her lips, Chizuru takes a quick picture of her newly cleaned covers and sends it off.

omg LOOK at that 😱😱 a real princess bed for hime-sama

Ah, she hadn’t thought of that. Her heels hook around the bed frame, knees cradled up against her chest, and— and Yamazaki might find that funny too, wouldn’t he? Hime-sama having her own palatial accommodations. It’s nothing to flick open his thread and attach the picture, thumb hovering over send—

the only question is who is going to warm hime-sama’s bed 😏

Heat floods her cheeks. What do you mean?

i hear what happens in feudal japan stays in feudal japan you have any idea who you’d like to share with 😏😏😏

I thought princesses didn’t have to share beds

😩 you’re killing me

It’s not new, being teased like this— about this even, not when she lives in a house with six men and a solid half of them only begrudgingly allow themselves to be clothed. But Sen won’t be placated with a blush and stuttered denial— no, once she gets a whiff of romance, she doesn’t know how to give up until she’s got it clenched between her teeth. And unless she wants to pick out one of the guys as her, er, target, well…

It’s funny though! When I got here there was stuff all over the bed

Distraction is the only way out.

stuff?? like…fluids??? gross 🤮 pls tell me you called housekeeping

No, no fluids thankfully! Just some leaf stuff I handled it myself! It took me a while, but I finally got all those little petals off 💪

leaf stuff? petals??

A knock startles her, enough that she finally sees 8% hovering in the corner, her screen flicking over into power saver mode.

“One minute!” she calls out, rummaging through her bag until her fingers catch on the charger cord, tugging it out—

And half of her travel bag. The knock comes again, no more insistent, but Chizuru’s sure it sounds impatient.

“Ah, just another minute, I just have to”— miss the outlet at least twice before she gets it seated— “do this—”

Her screen lights up, the charging icon taking the place of the percentage, and it immediately toots with, where are you staying again?

She has just enough time to dash off, Satsuma Estates, before the knock comes again, and she yelps, “Coming!”

She hurries over, nearly tripping on the corner of her suitcase, but she gets the door open.

“Good evening, Chizuru,” Hajime says, once she does. “It’s time for dinner.”

[alexdelray1]

Pavitr x Fem Reader.

Song: Bole Chudiyan.

Warnings: Fluff, kinda angst.

Bole chudiyan, bole kangna. 

Haai main ho gayi teri saajna. 

Tere bin jiyo naiyo lag da main te margaiya.

I started dancing to the music playing from the speakers. Maybe coming to this celebration wasn't a bad idea. And my cultured attire doesn't look too bad either. I danced in a crowd full of different people.

Aah aah aah aah, aah aah aah.

Bole chudiyan, bole kangna. 

Haai main ho gayi teri saajna. 

Bole chudiyan, bole kangna.

Haai main ho gayi teri saajna. 

Tere bin jiyo naiyo lag da main te margaiya.

-What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be saving the city? - I asked him and he grimaced.

-I got away. After all, being who I am at night and sometimes during the day shouldn't stop me from celebrating my favorite holiday. - he said and started dancing to the music.

-If only you would respect our dates so much. - I joined in the dance and smiled.

-Don't worry. Something like this won't happen again, even if it will then it means that you came earlier. - he said and shook his leg several times to the rhythm of the music.

Haai haai main marjaawa marjaawa tere bin.

Ab to meri raatein kat ti taare gin gin. 

Bas tujhko pukaara kare, meri bindiya ishaara kare.  

Hoye, lashkaara lashkaara teri bindiya ka lashkaara. 

Aise chamke jaise chamke chaand ke paas sitaara. 

Oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh.

Meri paayal bulaaye tujhe, jo roothe manaaye tujhe. 

O sajan ji, haan sajan ji. 

Kuch socho, kuch samjho meri baat ko. 

Bole chudiyan, bole kangna. 

Haai main ho gaya tera saajna. 

Tere bin jiyo naiyo lag da main te marjaawa.

There was supposed to be a verse of the song, but instead we heard people screaming and parts of buildings falling. Pavitr quickly took my hand and ran into the alley. He quickly started taking off his clothes, underneath which was a Spiderman costume, while I was looking at what it was from the corner.

-It's some green monster. And it's big. - I said and he was already in the costume.

-I promise you that we will spend the next holiday better.- he said and kissed me on the cheek. He shot his web and swung towards the monster.

People started pushing and pushing each other to disappear from the mutant's sight. In the crowd I saw a girl who was trying to save her mother, whose leg was stuck, from the rubble.

I ran there and tried to help her lift the boulder a little, which I managed to do after severely straining my wrist.

-Dhanyavaad! (Thank you). - the woman exclaimed and took her younger companion.

I looked towards the fight. Pavitr was doing well and the monster was about to fall. I was so focused on the fight that only at the last moment did I realize that the mutant's leg was about to hit me hard.

-Reader!- I heard a scream and felt as if every bone in my body had been broken. Only darkness remained.

-A week ago, our city was attacked by a monster known as the green goblin. Fortunately, no one died, but there were people who were injured or seriously harmed - the first words I heard.

I opened my eyes and realized that I was in the hospital. In front of me was a TV showing the news.

-Reader! Oh my God! You woke up! - the person who said this took me by the arms. After a moment of realizing my situation, I looked at this person.

-Pavitr? I am in the hospital? How? - I asked and he hugged me.

-I was pushed hard against a building by a green goblin. And I'm the forgetful one here. It's fine now. - Pavitr said the last sentence, as if to himself. Is he crying?

-Yeah. It is all right now. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? - I asked with a smile and patted him on the back.

-But it could have killed you! And I was powerless! I was afraid you were dead when he kicked you. - he said and ended the hug. He took my hand in his.

-Everything will be fine. I won't give up again and I'll run away right away. - I replied and leaned on the pillow.

-Kya tum vachan dete ho?- he asked with worry in his eyes.

-Main vaada karata hoon.- I replied and kissed his forehead.

[yourbonafidelove]

Dear Canada....

If you exhumed Orville Evans and measured his finger bones,

Or did so before he was buried,

I'd bet they'd fit perfectly in that corroded pelvic bone,

Maybe they are the perfect shape to one of the living ones.

When I cross my right leg over my left,

It relieves the pressure there.

And when the zaps hits, only the pressure of my heal and body wait can relieve it.

And when a man approaches me on the bus and tells me to move my bag to sit beside me and I say no, I fucking mean it. And I don't give a flying fuck if you wanna spotlight me for my lack of etiquette. Female 501 bus driver from this morning, I got off after the bridge --- just in time for the train whistle too.

(God is good, all the time)

Toss the bags to trash, hit her (me) with another mental health act,

Lovely Bones Girl for life --- and finally, truth.

I hope the coyotes smell the incoming period blood and get to me before you. Piece by piece.

P.s I still hate Chris Canning's cop of a brother. And I'm sure Chad from providence security is in the family too. Whatever. Im gonna pretend you're the wheels on the train mixed with a Wayne.

P.p.s The day mom and I met Dr. Elana at Sick Kids, with two other staff, we were both explained to each other about our cancers. The spot in mums face eventually cleared up. You know what didn't?

You letting us lie in bed with the Orville's and Wayne's while all we can do is close our eyes and put ourselves with our best friends/good love people and pray the torture will soon be over.

I hear Wayne's night time night mare laughter in my sleep.

The torture continues behind close doors, before my siblings eys and ears.

I hope to god the fucking dog kills him or skins his face alive.

I cry over my animal companions just as I cry over my people,

And I do so everytime Neytiri cries over hers in Avatar too.

These are my reasons why.

These are Lycee's reasons why.

And best believe the "psychotic break" back from 2021 -- was the first time I heard mom scream "NOOOO" in her sleep with Wayne, and I was in a good headspace planning to leave the province to start saving for a mortgage and school instead of love. I was good. I was accepting of loveless fate. I had a home and I had school. And now I'm only good as gone. Or a vanity piece for you and your wives. I'm fuckin' good.)

I qualified for M.A.D back in Scarborough days as a child.

God help our children, for the playbook for profit suffering you continue to fuck with, profit & purpose on.

Canada's playbook is a fucking disgrace.

And I'll never forget how you sat back and watched.

[cacoetheswriting]

Could I get a Denver fic with prompt '“You look lonely.” “Do I?"', with angst but also some fluff (or smut, if you'd like)? Thank you so much :)

pairing: denver x fem!reader warnings: alcohol consumption, use of pet names (babe, baby), mentions of sex but nothing graphic, adult language, sorta lovers to enemies? idk. word count: 806 summary: the story of how you joined the heist crew, and what crucial part denver played in it.

(a/n: you'll notice here i call denver 'daniel' and that's bc this fic takes place before the events of the first season)

-

Drunken conversations and rather obnoxious laughter buzzed through the bar. The tv was displaying a football game no one was really paying attention to and the classic rock songs coming from an old radio behind the counter only enhanced the growing battle of who can be louder, man or machine.

The room carried a stench of cigarettes, cheap booze and a hint of sickness escaped the bathroom as the door opened and closed, opened and closed, opened and closed...

Honestly, you wanted to be anywhere but here. But given your current… predicament, hiding in this dull establishment was your best bet for the foreseeable (especially since the owner is letting you crash in the room above for a small fee of simple kitchen porter duties).

Ah, yes, the glamorous life of being on the run from authorities.

“You look lonely,” a husky voice — one you’ve come to know all too well over the years — pointed out.

The corners of your lips twirled upwards at the sound, at the sentence, however you did not turn to eye the man who dared to interrupt your thoughts (and safety).

Instead, your eyes wandered to the golden brown liquid that swirled at the bottom of your glass. The quiet jingle of the ice-cubes as they hit off each other was oddly soothing.

“Do I?”

The question was rhetorical, you knew you did otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Wrapping your fingers tighter around the glass, you raised it slowly to take a sip before finally meeting the gaze of your companion.

“Yes,” Daniel lipped back and glanced at the empty seat next to you, “Mind if I join you?”

“Knock yourself out,” you shrugged and took another sip.

He made himself comfortable (as comfortable as one could on the unsteady wooden barstool), ordering a beer in the process.

“You’re on every news channel in the state,” he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to the conversation.

“Oh, I am well aware, thank you.”

Daniel brought the bottle to his lips, “You know if I can find you, it’s only a matter of time before the police do,” he pointed out and took a sip.

Sighing, you tilted your head to look at him: “And what do you propose I do, D?”

The brunette shuffled in closer, his gaze lingering briefly on your lips before averting to meet your eyes, “Come with me. My pops got involved with this guy, he’s proposing a deal of a lifetime and we could use someone on the team with your unique expertise.”

You chuckled harshly, “You’re fucking with me.”

“Cross my heart,” he mimicked the expression.

“No offence but I kinda seriously don’t trust you.”

“I know, I know you don’t. But this, babe, this is legit. We’re gonna be fucking millionaires if we pull this off.”

“If? D, I ain’t gettin’ involved with anything that’s not 100% and you know that.”

“Come on, baby. It’ll be like old times.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t you miss it sometimes? Don’t you miss us together? Professionally and… you know… the other thing.”

“You mean do I miss having sex with you?”

“Well, when you put it like that it makes me sound like a prick.”

“You are a prick, Daniel. Which is precisely the reason we went our separate ways in the first place,” you tiffed in response and proceeded to down the rest of your drink before elegantly hopping off the stool, “I’ll see you around. Good luck with your new endeavour and say hello to your dad.”

He reached for your wrist, stopping you from walking away. Your gaze snapped to his hand and you were about to threaten him (just like old times) when he spoke, “See, I know you very well and I figured conviving you was going to be a difficult task—”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“The police have this place surrounded,” he stated calmly, also standing up, “The only way you’re leaving here is with me.”

His face was inches away from yours. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes caused your stomach to flip upside down. Heat rushing to your cheeks as memories of the last time you stood this close to one another flooded your mind.

“I hate you,” you spat quietly but your actions betrayed your words when your gaze flickered to his lips. Only for a split-second but long enough for Daniel to notice.

“You love me. And you’ll love me even more when you’re rich,” he drawled excitedly. Letting go of your wrist, his hands moved to your face, “Now, baby, let’s get you the fuck out of here, okay?”

As if you had a choice.

“Okay,” you nodded, “But I’m not having sex with you again.”

He smirked, “We’ll see about that.”

-

masterlist | add yourself to a taglist

[genshin-impact-writings]

Hi there! I’m one of the many silent readers that enjoys your writing but rarely interacts with anything (I’m shy!) Speaking up this time to let you know that your efforts are 💯% appreciated!!!

Saw your reqs are open for Thoma and Baal but don’t have to do it if you don’t want to: welcome tour with Thoma but it’s an actual tour instead of some hidden agenda to try to recruit you into the resistance 🙃

Heya! Thank you so much for your kind words, I really appreciate your support! <3 And thank you for your request. I got a bit carried away while writing this and it doesn't fit your original idea perfectly but I hope you'll like it nevertheless. Have a great day/night and take care, dear! :)

Welcome to Inazuma – Thoma x gn!reader

Your palms felt a bit sweaty when you entered Inazuma City, immediately surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the area that was much more crowded and noisier than Ritou where you had arrived a couple of days ago. There were soldiers everywhere, and although you knew that you had a valid travel permit, the sight still made you nervous.

You didn’t know much about the things that had happened in Inazuma recently but judging from everything the Adventurer’s Guild had told you before they sent you here, the situation was still quite tense. Surely, it would be best to avoid any unnecessary attention until you had spoken to your new superiors, and so you took a deep breath and bowed your head as you continued to make your way through the city.

Finding the local branch of the Guild luckily wasn’t too difficult, and by the time you had arrived there, your nervousness had already started to subside. “Hello Katheryne,” you greeted the familiar receptionist before handing over your papers. “I’m (Y/N), from Mondstadt.”

“Welcome to Inazuma,” she replied with the same polite smile you had already seen so many times. “The local adventurers have anticipated your arrival but unfortunately, they are quite busy with their commissions today, so they can’t welcome you right now. But perhaps you would like to take a walk through the city in the meantime? There’s a lot to see and it’s surely more interesting than sitting around and waiting for the others to return.”

And that is how it came that you were wandering around the city for the second time on that day, trying to process all the new impressions that besieged you. There were various restaurants and food stalls, smaller and larger shops that sold all kinds of things, and you couldn’t deny that the whole situation was quite overwhelming, especially compared to your home town Mondstadt where everything was a bit more leisurely and relaxed. But at the same time, it made you incredibly happy to be able to explore a place like this.

“Excuse me but – are you (Y/N)? The adventurer from Mondstadt?” a voice behind you asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you turned around, you saw a tall, blonde man standing behind you, dressed in dark red and black clothes and, as you noticed almost immediately, with a Pyro vision attached to his belt. But what really caught your attention were his friendly, bright green eyes.

“Um,” you hesitated with your answer. “Yes.”

“Oh, great!” His lips curled into a delighted smile, and he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it. “I’m Thoma! Miss Kamisato told me you’d arrive today and asked me to show you around.”

“Miss Kamisato?” you repeated. Of course, you had heard of the Kamisato Clan and their role in the recent events but you weren’t too sure why they were so well informed about your arrival in Inazuma.

Still smiling, Thoma nodded. “Most of your future commissions actually come from the Kamisato Clan. As you may or may not have guessed already, things are a bit complicated in Inazuma right now and we all could need another helping hand to deal with some of these inconveniences. That’s why the local Adventurer’s Guild asked Mondstadt and Liyue for help, you see.”

You hummed in response. His explanations made sense, and he seemed to be a sociable and friendly companion, so there was really no reason to dismiss his offer to show you around the city. In the end, you thought to yourself, it could only be of advantage to explore the area together with a local.

“Okay,” you finally replied and hesitatingly returned his smile. “Where should we go first?”

*

“And here we have the Yae Publishing House,” your companion explained a couple of hours later, gesturing towards the building complex in front of you. It was an unobtrusive, yet fairy large building, compared to the others, but the stall right in front of it was all the more interesting. The shelves bent under dozens of books in various shapes and sizes, organized in a classification system you couldn’t figure out at first glance.

“If you ever need something to read, this is the place to go,” the man by your side continued, and you turned your head to look at him. “I don’t think I’ll have a lot of time to read in between my commissions.”

Thoma laughed, a contagious, joyful laugh that you found more attractive than you wanted to admit. “I’ll have to make sure that you don’t overwork yourself, then.”

“I can take care of myself just fine, thank you,” you replied and grimaced at him when he only laughed more at your words. “No doubt, dear adventurer. But everyone needs someone to look after them sometimes, don’t you agree?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Is that so? We’ve spent almost the entire day with each other.”

You rolled your eyes but it was nearly impossible to fight back the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth now. “You must be insane if you think that a few hours are enough to get to know me properly.”

He winked at you. “Thankfully, the day isn’t over yet. We still have plenty of time to chat. So, how about we take a break and grab something to eat before we continue our little tour? I know some great restaurants that are just around the corner. It’s my treat, of course.”

“That sounds like a really good idea,” you said, letting out a quiet shriek when he linked arms with you and dragged you along before you could even finish your sentence. “A bit impatient, aren’t we?”

An apologetic smile and an almost innocent look were his only answer at first. Then, with an overdramatic sigh, he added, “What can I say? Food is my weak point.”

“Then we should definitely hurry – who’s going to show me where I can watch the sunset if you’re going to pass out from malnutrition?”

He grinned. “Well, luckily I know the perfect spot to do that. Once we’ve finished our meal, I’ll take you there, dear adventurer.”

*

“Now, would you look at that,” Thoma said quietly, pointing towards the horizon where the sky was painted in the most gorgeous shades of orange, red and purple as the day slowly came to an end. The rippling surface of the ocean reflected the light of the setting sun in a way you had never seen before, and for a few seconds, you could only stare at the spectacle of nature that happened right in front of you.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered then, your eyes still glued to the sky. Next to you, Thoma couldn’t help but smile; a soft, genuine smile that would have made your face heat up if you had seen it.

“Very beautiful, indeed,” he agreed, his voice barely audible, but he wasn’t watching the sunset anymore. Instead, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye. In the warm light of the sun, your skin had an ethereal glow, and your hair that framed your face almost looked like a halo from his perspective. “A sight to behold, one might say.”

You blinked at him, unable to hide your embarrassment when you finally realized that he wasn’t talking about the sunset anymore. He chuckled quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fluster you. It’s just – you’re stunning, you know?”

“You’re quite handsome yourself, Thoma,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading on your face as his eyes widened at the unexpected compliment before he quickly turned his head away to hide the soft, rosy colored blush that creeped up his neck. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

“I mean it.”

Silence fell between the two of you then as you continued to watch the sky getting darker and darker until the sun had almost disappeared over the horizon. You could already see the stars, countless bright dots scattered over the dark blue sky. The quiet rushing of the ocean perfected the peaceful scenery, and for a few moments, you found yourself wondering if you could perhaps stay in Inazuma for a bit longer than originally planned. Surely, the Adventurer’s Guild wouldn’t mind. You could spend more time with exploring the Nation of Eternity – and you could spend more time with Thoma, too. Although you had only known him for barely a day, you couldn’t deny that he had made an impression on you, and you really wanted to get to know him better.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You impressed me, too.”

It was only then when you realize that you had wondered out loud about your stay in Inazuma and, more importantly, about him. Oh no. You felt your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and opened your mouth to explain yourself but when you noticed the soft expression in his eyes, you decided to remain silent instead before you’d say even more awkward things.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke as you kept staring at each other, trying to figure out your next move.

“Would it be too bold of me to kiss you right now?” Thoma finally broke the silence, his voice barely louder as a whisper and his breath softly brushing against your face as he spoke. When you shook your head, leaning in ever so slightly to signalize that you wouldn’t mind it at all, he let his hand trail to the back of your neck to guide you forward before finally closing the gap between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you felt him melt under your touch.

You were both out of breath when he pulled away. A soft smile played around his mouth as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. Leaning in again, he rested his forehead against yours, looking at you with shining, green eyes that were filled with so much honest adoration that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Welcome to Inazuma, my dear adventurer.”

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging. I would really appreciate the support! <3

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos, @childe-support, @rim0na,@the-gayest-sky-kid, @aphrodicts-imagination

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Bad Batch) Tech x Reader: The Sound of Your Voice

(Author’s Note:   Heyo, I’ve got a little something about Tech that I hope you’ll enjoy.  I’ve got a fever, and the only cure is more Tech.  I’ve been feeling it, so here it is).

   “I just hope we don’t see any of the ‘hostile wildlife’ Cody warned us about in the briefing,” you said, clutching the blaster as your eyes flickered to a spot where you thought you saw branches rustle.

   “The likelihood is rather low,” Tech replied, eyes not leaving the datapad in his hands as he walked ahead of you.  “Though, not impossible.”  You were glad to be scouting ahead with him.  The quality time with Tech was something you enjoyed, even if it was for a mission.  However, with how focused he was on the screen in front of him instead of his surroundings, you were starting to wish Wrecker had come along.  He wasn’t exactly Mr. Stealthy; however, he’d be much-appreciated in a tangle with these creatures.

   “How much longer?”  You suddenly felt the urge to lower your voice.  It was the strangest feeling, like you were being observed.

   “We’re not too far from the point,” Tech informed.  He finally looked up to see the dead end in the path in front of him.  “Huh,” he hummed in interest, eyes darting from the holo-map to the pile of boulders in front of him.  “This didn’t come up on the scan.  We’ll have to find a way around.”

   A snap of a branch caused you to bristle, instinctively pressing your back against Tech as you turned to aim the blaster in your hands.  “I don’t think we have time.”  The two of you watched as a large creature stalked out of the thick surrounding forest onto the path where you’d just come from.  It was dark and scaly with bright yellow eyes that blinked right at you as it tipped its head to the side to observe its prey.  The creature let out a hiss, and Tech pushed himself past to stand directly in front of you.

   Though touched by the protective gesture, the concern was there.  “Tech, that thing is dangerous,” you warned.  “Hope you have your blaster ready.”

   “No need.”  He tapped a few icons on his datapad, and suddenly a piercing screech sounded in the air.  You pressed your face against his armored shoulder as you shut your eyes at the noise.

   The creature didn’t seem to like it either because it slithered back into the shadows at lightspeed.  Once it was gone, you quickly pulled away from Tech as he turned to look at you over his shoulder.  You exhaled in relief at the disappearance of the creature, but your heart was still thrumming under your companion’s gaze.

   “Are you alright?”

   “Yeah,” you nodded.  “Just startled.  What the heck was that?”

   “A cry belonging to the creature’s natural predator,” he responded.  “I downloaded it as a precaution.”

   “Wow, that’s very handy.”  You peeked at the list of icons on his device, each one representing audio files that he had collected on various missions and assignments.  You knew it was a hobby of his, but had never seen him put it to use like this before.  “Can I see?”

   “Sure, but only for a minute,” he said.  “The cry might draw in the predators, and they’re even worse than what we just encountered.”

   You used your finger to scroll rapidly through the list before seeing an icon that stood out to you in particular.  Tech seemed to notice your curiosity with it, and hesitated.

   “Maybe not that one-”

   But you were already pressing the icon, and suddenly your voice rang out from the datapad.  It was the sound of your laughter and voice talking with what sounded like Wrecker.  You recalled that evening; you and the Bad Batch were enjoying a quiet evening without any missions.  No droids.  No blasters.  Just time with the squad.  The memory was a fond one among many, but you hadn’t expected to find the recording on Tech’s datapad.

   You were too stunned to speak as Tech gently tugged the device away, shutting off the sound, and tried to avoid your curious gaze.

   “We really should get to our destination,” he said, though his tone didn’t carry as much tension as you would’ve expected.  He finally met your eyes through the visor of his helmet.  It seemed that he was going to act like what happened didn’t just happen.  As serious as you were about your work, the destination could wait five minutes.

   “Tech, what was that?” you asked.

   He paused just as he had started back around the pile of boulders, turning to face you.  “It was your voice.”

   A smile crept its way onto your face at his somewhat cute attempt to dodge.  “Yeah, but why?”

   “I like the sound of your laughter,” he admitted.  “It doesn’t matter what I’m going through; it makes the situation better.”

   You flashed another smile.  “That’s very flattering.  Thank you.”

   “You aren’t offended?”

   “No, it’s quite the opposite.  To find out the person you like appreciates your laughter is pretty great.”

   Tech’s eyes widened behind his helmet.  “You...like me?”

   You nodded, suddenly feeling bashful that it was really out in the open.  “I have for a while.  I didn’t know if you liked me back or how I’d tell you.” 

   He lifted the helmet from his head, eyes still fixed on you as he took a few steps closer.  “I like you too, __________, and I also did not know how to tell you.”

   “There is one way you can tell me.”

   His brows went up at your indirect suggestion, and Tech took another step closer.  As he neared your space, he suddenly began to show signs of nervousness.  He was avoiding your gaze again, instead preoccupied with the grass.

   “Tech, you don’t have to kiss me,” you assured him.  “I know it’s kind of sudden.”

   “I do want to.  I just...I’ve never done this before.”

   “Well, we are also in the middle of a mission-”

   He cut off your sentence by leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.  It was rigid and awkward for just a moment before you guided yourself a little closer to wrap your arms around his neck and lean into the kiss.  His helmet dropped to the ground with a thud and he put his arms around your waist in return.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he pulled away to look into your eyes and press one last peck on your lips.  The two of you separated, and he picked his helmet up to put it back on again.

   Suddenly, Tech’s comm beeped.

   Tech, ________. It was Hunter.  Your signals show you’ve been in the same place for a while.  Everything alright?

   “Yes, Sarge,” Tech replied.  “We ran into some of the wildlife, but we’re continuing on our way.  We have to go around an obstacle, but should make it there at a decent time.”

   Glad to hear it.  Just checking in.  See you two when you get back.

   Once the comm ended, you and Tech exchanged glances.

   “Let’s get moving,” you said.

   “Oh, now you want to get moving,” he joked with a chuckle.

   “Hey, we can stop and see the sights for a minute,” you retorted, smirking.

   “I suppose so.  They are beautiful.”

[ktheist]

you can sit with us. | m

pairings. taehyung x reader x jungkook

genre. slice of life

words. 5.7k

warnings. explicit content, semi-public sex, threesome (obviously), everyone’s a switch at this point, but top!jungkook, big dick!tae, big dick!jungkook, discussions of sexuality

synopsis. the person frowns, confusion clearly painted on his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people.”

x

the first time you met jeon jungkook and kim taehyung was at a bar downtown. you’d bumped into the tall, dark haired man at the bar who was in the middle of turning around after what seemed to be a reminder for the bartender to serve him and his companion at “table 6.”

“oh sorry,” you find yourself saying to a broad chest before letting your eyes travel up past the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple and finally his beautiful, mesmerizing eyes but it was the sweet, tender smile that gets you clenching your hands together in hopes to stop them from coming up to fan yourself, “oh there you are! wow, you’re tall!”

the sound of his chuckle was music to your ears, “i get that a lot - have a good one,” with a good natured nod and a parting farewell, he disappeared into the crowd.

you knocked on the counter, fixing the bartender a smile, “hi,” your half buzzed smile dragged out the word into something that might or might be interpreted the wrong way, especially considering where you were but when she smirked at you, you knew this one was going to be on the house, “oh, your teeth are so pretty!”

“thanks, baby, what can i get you?” as self-assured as she was, she still steered the conversation back to the reason you’re there, butt half sitting on the stool and arms propped over the counter, leaning a little too close than one should.

“oh!” you gasped as though you’d just remembered something, “can i have a bloody mary, please?”

“sure thing, sweets,” she winked and you giggled.

the whole time she was preparing your order, she’d kept her eyes on you and you were a giggling mess, eyes of stars staring at the way her nimble hands did their work up till the moment she slid it over to you with a, “it’s on the house.”

“oh my god, thank you!” a pause in the moment and a linger of gaze later, you were pushing the piece of paper with a sequence of numbers into your bra.

there was skip to your step as you made your way over to what was supposed to be a booth that you booked with your friends - who, in the short span of time managed to get their of companions for the night and consequently left no space for you to even sit.

so you stood there, not knowing how much time passed, with your jaws on the ground and the bloody mary held midair. completely frozen in place.

that was, until the handsome stranger beckoned you over from two seats away. he only had one other person with him. if his hair was dark, his companion’s was jet black, “hey, you can sit with us.”

with a dry sniffle, you’d marched way over. a stomp in your steps and a huff as you plopped down across from him and his companion. he’d introduced himself as taehyung and his companion, jungkook. and you had, forgetting everything about your untasteful encounter, brightly announced your name, “thanks so much for letting me sit with you guys,” you gushed, “me and my girlfriends made a promise that we’d never let any man or woman get in our way of girl’s night,” with an face full of dissatisfaction and an exhalation, you continued, “but guess that plan went out of the window.”

“is this your first time? don’t think we’ve seen you before,” jungkook’s voice, if there existed a word to sum up how to describe it, it would be melodic. a hymn of the heavens in the body of a man - a very beautiful man at that.

“no but this is my second time,” and halfway-drunk you had no filter or any sense of shutting the fuck up before you shared too much to strangers, you went on about how “a girl i was sorta a thing with brought me here,” you and her clearly didn’t work out because, otherwise why would you be here with, “so my girlfriends wanted to go to a gay bar and thought why not bring them here, right?” you scoffed, remembering the sisterhood promise made just a few hours ago, “wrong - they ditched me as soon as they saw the only few straight men here.”

that seemed to bring a rise of chuckle from taehyung and a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff from jungkook. for the rest of the night, you drank and did shots and danced on the floor - the two of them seemed a tad bit protective over you, especially when a man got too close. they weren’t looking for any because, “so how long have you guys been dating?”

“we’ve known each other for seven years and we’ve been dating for-” jungkook began before taehyung chirped in, “two years.”

“oh my god, you guys finish each other’s sentences,” you cooed, vision blurred but still somewhat able to process the information that went through your ears “goals.”

so they had no reason to let anyone else come into your little circle of three on top of the very obvious fact that you were too far gone to even consent to even a dance with any man or woman.

you remembered your friends, some time into the night, finding you and thanking the two men for looking out for you before they dragged you out with them. neither of them actually went home with anyone but it still didn’t stop you from holding a vendetta against them because, “girls, we made a sacred promise and you broke it!”

they’d bribed you with ice cream and sushi and you were a puddle of delighted jelly by the time you all walked out of the sushi place.

it was a month later that you’d returned to the bar, decked in your best curve-hugging skin-tight dress. this time, you were alone.

the plan to earn brownie points from the bartender fell through when you found out that she was quit a few days ago and the employer refused to give you any details about her - even her number to you because you’d regrettably got it wet beyond repair after dumping the clothes you’d worn that night into the washer before going to bed and setting the laundry to wash the next morning, forgetting the treasure that you’d gained the night before.

with shoulders sagged and a mournful pout, you’d walked over to one of those two-people tables, hoping to get a beer in a leave. but then they were there, sitting at the same table, beckoning you over like the good overnight friends that they were.

“what’s with the long face, sweetie?” taehyung pouted, eyebrows knitting together as he shot you the prettiest puppy eye to which made you giggle in response.

so you’d told them about how you’d fucked up with one of the cutest girl you’d seen in ages. “ugh, i hate when that happens,” jungkook made an over exaggerated eyeroll, probably to cheer you up which partially worked.

until you three decided to dance again with taehyung holding your hand up as you twirled around like a princess in red. when it’s jungkook’s turn to twirl, he had to bend his knees and gradually make a full circle in an awkward way but still ended with a hair flip.

and so it went, a friendship of mutuality and overflowing gayness. you’d become eating buddies who travelled all over seoul for the best foodplace that’s ever been reviewed. had stay overs when you’d driven out of town and back to their place. went to the bar every so often which they’d taken up the task of being your wingmen.

they succeeded in their jobs a few times. but the girls you’d slept with never stayed and you never thought of proceeding to reach out beyond a one nightstand. because you were young and they were sweet but you didn’t think a relationship of trust and confidence could ever spawn from meetings at bars and spurred into a hot, passionate romance that simmered into ashes the next day.

“i don’t know you guys,” you sigh, “i think i’m done with girls.”

“oh no,” taehyung looks genuinely mortified while jungkook shakes his head “a loss for the gays and girls” and you giggle-  never a dull moment with these two.

“i’m not saying i’m done done but it’s been awhile since i’ve sucked a dick, you know?” and with friendship came honesty and the comfortableness of saying things for what it is without being judged for it.

“oh don’t we know,” jungkook snickers, while taehyung shoots him a look - he’d always been the shy one between the two. the younger man goes in for a kiss, to which the elder accepts, meeting him halfway.

and all of it only makes you a tad bit lonely as you scan the crowd. some gorgeous beings catches your eye and you’d like to think you caught theirs too but instead of the gentle and loving affection you’d seen between the two men, their eyes were sparked with lust and passion. like nymphs of the night who’d leave you high and dry once they got what they wanted.

so you left to get a drink at the bar, ordering a shot of jeager in hopes of drinking away the creeping hollowness that begins to fill the lonely parts of your heart. several shots in and you’re tumbling over to your two friends who seem to be have taken things up several notches after your leave. with taehyung on top of jungkook and the first not so shy anymore to let out unrestrained moans as his younger other half laps on his neck.

you’re halfway drowned into your own little world and probably will be going home with them and crashing in that spare bedroom you’ve started calling your part time bedroom.

until you lock eyes with jungkook. his lower face buried in taehyung’s shoulder while the latter pauses, glancing over to you as though just remembering that you were there. still having the sense to lift an inquisitive eyebrow, you do so with a, “oh don’t mind me, i’m just happy that you guys are getting some tonight.”

“you know,” jungkook pauses, letting the seconds trickle on like the droplets of on the wall of the glass before it hits the surface of the table, “you wanted to suck a dick, right? welll we’ve got dicks.”

it takes you a long winded, painful moment to digest his words. another to let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff as if to say, “you’re kidding...” but the “...right?” comes a second too late. a second too hopeful.

and that’s how you end up in the washroom - you’re not quite sure if it’s the men or women’s but you’re surprised that it could fit three adults in one tiny cubicle. but the matter of how to suck whose dick was an entirely different problem.

“shit ___, your elbow’s in my stomach,” jungkook hisses in a muted whisper, his hand on your hip, no doubt the culprit of your ridden up dress until your cotton panties are out in the open.

“fuck, jungkook, move over, i can’t reach tae’s dick,” you grumble out, the aforementioned man’s hardened dick in your hand but the space not allowing you to even crouch in front of him as he sat on the toilet whilst jungkook stood behind you.

“will someone just suck my dick?” the latter sighs just as he throbs in your hand.

“wait,” jungkook says, earning a dissatisfied groan from you and his boyfriend but before either of you can say anything, he’s turning you around, hands guiding your hips, “tae, push her panties down.”

almost as though controlled by an invisible force, the man’s hands are quick to get those baby pink panties down until they’re hanging around your ankles.

“hey wait wait wait!” you repeat like a mantra as you feel jungkook’s hands guiding you down onto taehyung’s lap which, if you remember correctly, was sporting a protruding hardness in between.

“oh fuck,” yes, you’d just confirmed that an extremely erected and extravagantly lively dick is excitingly welcoming you with the way it’s jolting against your lower lips.

“oh my god,” taehyung moans, hands on the curve of your hips as he gently lowers you onto him until he’s fully inside you.

“that’s nice that you two are enjoying yourselves but - remember i’m the one that made this work,” a voice says before a hand wraps around your wrist, guiding it to a similarly throbbing hardness but of a lesser length than taehyung’s to which you soon realize that he makes it up with his girth.

“someone’s jealous,” the person behind you snickers - you have half a mind to join in on the teasing if it isn’t for your hips and knees focusing on keeping up your weight whilst you hand strokes the length in front of you, mouth lapping on his tip.

“shut up and kiss me, pretty boy,” you can almost hear the eye roll from jungkook’s voice as the tip of your nose hits his pelvic, mouth stretching wider as his leans over you, possibly to lock lips with the man he vindictive but lovingly complimented.

and so it goes, your first dick - two actually - after a long while. needless to say, you come out flushed and walking silly but both men had their hands around the opposite hip from the side they’re standing beside. it helps you hold yourself up at least until you’re in their car, switching from sticking your tongue in taehyung’s throat to jungkook’s when he stops at a red light. body stretching over the leg space between the passenger seat and the back of the driver’s seat, his neck probably hurting from having to crane around until he reaches your lips whilst taehyung’s keeps himself busy with a hand under your panties. teasing, rubbing your pleasure nub just above your lips until you’re soaking by the time the car rolled to a stop in their parking lot.

“scoot over,” jungkook instructs, unbuckling his seatbelt, “we really need to normalize waiting for the third person to finish doing whatever they were doing before deciding to fuck in the back seat of the car while they’re driving.”

“can i have your mouth, sweetie?” taehyung announces, sending waves of excitement down your core as you feel yourself clench in anticipation.

there’s just something about how they manhandle you - your hips particularly as taehyung lifts you up and slides away to the right of the car and setting you down like a little doll, hand pushing down his pants and letting his erection shoot up like a roly poly.

“great cause i want her pussy,” jungkook’s displeased tone is replaced by a breathy agreement.

and just like his other half, he’s making you stand on your knees, body bent over taehyung until his dick is in your face, oozing with precum.

“tae baby, at this point, you don’t even have to ask,” you fix him a smirk, savoring the way his eyes darken with a sort of godless desire as you lap at his tip like you would a lollipop.

the second time around, you’re much better at focusing on what’s in front of you despite the other length filling you up balls deep.

you’re not sure when you’d stopped or what time you fell asleep. but all you knew, you were sore and full by the time you were drifting between the waking world and the dream world.

the morning when you woke up, it’s been because of the way the bed shook like an earthquake was wrecking up the room. an earthquake that moaned, “deeper, jungkook, oh fuck.”

the sight before you has you clenching your thighs together but at the same time, the giggle that left your lips is what causes heads to turn and eyes to focus on you.

“did we wake you up, sweetie? i’m so sorry,” taehyung is the first to worry, “oh yes-” but that worry subsides when jungkook starts moving again, skin slapping skin.

but the elder isn’t quite ready to give up just yet, “we wanted to wait for you to- ah - get up - fuck - oh,” he whimpers, burying his face into the mattress before peeking at you with eyebrows knitting together, “when we were talking about l-last night, we - we couldn’t help ourselves.”

“don’t worry about me, i had plenty of dick to go for at least a whole month,” you stare at taehyung’s pinked lips for the briefest moment before searching his eyes, feeling a sudden heat rise to your cheeks when you notice he’d caught the lingering stare - last night was fun but all three of you were buzzed and possibly horny as hell, you’re not so sure if a kiss would be welcomed by either of them now that you’re all sober and awake.

“i’m gonna go shower,” you announce, throwing your feet over the edge of the bed, the sound of your padding steps drowned by their pleasured moans.

the hot shower helps ease the knots in your muscles and calm your mind - or at least partially. the sight of the two boyfriends shamelessly fucking in front of your eyes still plays at the back of your mind like a graphic scene. and so you find yourself caressing your hardened nipples, your free hand snaking down between your legs as a whimper escapes your mouth. almost as though anything louder, and the whole world would know what you’re doing.

“what? you’re touching yourself?” a melodic but dangerous voice reverberates against the wall and cuts through the sound of running shower.

before you can even call out - ask who it is even though it’s obvious whose voice it belongs to, the curtain is torn open, revealing a sculpted god - you didn’t notice last night because it was dark but even then you’d known those strong arms that held you must be hiding something else underneath those layer of clothes.

“oh, hey, tae - the bathroom’s kinda oc-” you were about to ask what he was doing because the bathroom was obviously occupied - besides the fact that it’s the guest room’s bedroom and the main bedroom had their own bathroom - but before you can, a pair of arms are pulling you against another body. muscular and deliciously built but exceptionally predatory.

“you weren’t gonna come without us, are you?” taehyung’s crestfallen expression is all you see. his downturned lips and puckered lips being your weakness.

“y-you guys were busy, so i-” your words are cut short when you feel the coldness of a breath against you damp ear, “uh-uh, who said we were?” jungkook’s teasing denial is what makes you clench your legs together, only for them to be pried open by the dark haired man who’s fallen to his knees right in front of you.

“tae!” you shriek, caught by surprised at the sudden lost of balance as he hooks one leg over his shoulder whilst your hand claws onto jungkook’s arms that’s banded over your chest for a sort of leviation.

“shhh,” jungkook hums in your ears, as though to say ‘we’d never let you fall’.

but you didn’t fall and taehyung’s looking at you with the prettiest eyes, “what? you said i didn’t have to ask, right?”

“n-no,” the heat comes on full force - all of a sudden, the hot water trickling down your bodies aren’t even remotely sufficient to keep you warm, “you don’t have to.”

and so it goes, your many firsts within the short span of less than 24 hours, spurred by the two wonderful souls you never thought you’d come to know so closely within the duration of your friendship.

you waited with nothing but a towel around your body until jungkook knocked on the door, a folded set of clothes in hand.

“oh hey thanks - don’t know what i’d do if i had to walk in the streets in fishnets and flashy red dress,” you force out a chuckle, cheeks heating up as you swipe the clothes off his hands in a blink of an eye. to which he heaves out a sigh, but the smile on his lips tells you that he’s all but angry.

“hey, i know what went on in the last few hours was crazy,” he starts, sounding uncannily casual about it, “but we don’t want this to get in the way of what we’ve built - can we talk about this over breakfast? tae’s making it now but- i mean, if you want to, of course.”

and that’s when you finally let the walls come tumbling down. standing there bare - quite literally - with your chest washed off its initial worries, “honestly, i’d really like that.”

“perfect,” the brightest smile lights up on his face and for a moment, you thought everything went back to normal. back when all three of you are hanging out and joking about the littlest things one of you realized and pointed out to the other two.

“oh and,” jungkook tilts his head to the side, “sorry if i was rude or anything last night,” he quickly adds, “and just now - i tend to be like that during sex.”

“oh,” is all that follows your response, thoughts running around before you can actually reach out one by one to process it - so single celled brain goes, “i kind of like that side of you, actually.”

“really?” there it goes the smile that could quite literally blind you as his shoulders visibly sags, “tae hates it when i boss him around - thank god that’s not the majority opinion from now on.”

“from now on?” you echo his words but before you can interrogate him some more, he’s out of the door and yelling for you to come to the kitchen when you’re done putting on the clothes.

so you find yourself sitting in front of the two boyfriend whom you’ve spend quite a night knowing. they’re gazing at you with eyes that can’t stop squinting into crescents and smile that can’t stop smiling.

“okay should i tell or you?” taehyung turns to the darker haired male, their hands that are twined together moving towards the man he’s pointing.

“how about together?” jungkook suggests, a glint in his eyes that makes you stare, wide eyed and unblinking. pancake lying cold and uneaten as you wait with bated breath, “...tell me what?”

before you can even finish your words, the two bursts out in exclamation, “we like you.”

taehyung’s is a bit more excited while jungkook’s is a tad bit reserved.

“i like you guys too!” you declare, hands clapping together in excitement.

“oh my god, you do?” taehyung squeals, bringing his free hand and the one he has twined with jungkook to his heart.

“don’t i?” you make a ridiculous sound, hand waving away the ludicrosity of the possibility of you saying otherwise, “i’m glad we get to put last night behind us and still be friends.”

“i don’t think she gets it,” jungkook says a whole heartbeat later whilst taehyung’s upturned lips gradually but surely falls.

“what?” your eyes flit between the two, as if trying to spot the thing you seem to obviously miss.

“sweetie,” taehyung reaches his hand to you, to which you gladly accept before jungkook does the same with his other hand and you similarly meet halfway over the table “we like like you,” the taller man emphasizes.

it takes you a moment to digest his words. another to squint your eyes at them with a ‘okay where’s the punchline?’ kind of smile. and one last moment for it to sink in, “i thought you guys were gay and last night and this morning was a mistake?”

“i thought so too,” taehyung is the first to break the bond, his free hand coming to his chest, bent in a 90 degrees angle, “but i’ve had girl crushes and they went away after i met jungkook so i thought they were just me being in denial of my sexuality but i like spending time with you and jungkook,” he slips his large hand into yours that stays frozen on the table where he’d left it, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “i like the way you smile, the way you’d team up with me to tease jungkook,” that receives a snort from the man in question, “the way you’re always so supportive and optimistic- i just - i like you.”

“well, what he said except i like everything he’s not about you,” jungkook simply says, “and unlike him, i know i’m bi.”

“and we want you to be a part of this wonderful, beautiful, delightful relationship,” taehyung adds, fixing you the most tender smile as he gazes at you as though he’s never seen such a magnificent creature before.

“i mean...” you breathe out, a sea of emotions crashing against your chest before you finally say, “this is a lot to take in guys. i don’t know what to say - i think i need some time for myself.”

“oh,” it’s the way taehyung seems like he has more to say, the way his smile is completely replaced with a hesitant flat line and the way jungkook lets go of their twined hands to rub the elder man’s back.

“it’s okay, take your time,” he says, and you shoot him a grateful but awkward smile before taking your things and leaving through the door. unsure of whether you’ll ever return. whether you’ll ever laugh about the stupidity of bravely idiotic characters in horror movies again. whether you’ll ever huddle in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for three again. whether those peaceful days will ever be yours again depending on your own choices.

days go by and then one week and then two and you’ve confided in at least two people whose reactions are similarly perturbed by what you’ve told them until you’ve concluded that nobody will truly understand the confusion and frustration and jitters that courses through your veins when you think about the two charming but glaringly different ends of the spectrum men.

one is like the blue sky, bright yet vast and a trove of never ending possibilities while the other is like the midnight sky, decked with fleeting moments of vulnerability and endless mystery. but both, you’ve come to realize, are the reasons your view of the world has changed for the better. made your days a little more worth looking forward to. and it’s exiting and daunting all at once because the people you’ve confided in have expressed their concerns and dissertation of what they think hides behind the veils of normality. a box they’re not so used to stepping out of and deems those beyond the cardboards uncommon. foreign. unknown.

and truthfully, you’ve already decided what you want - know what you want to do on your way back that day after you’d made a beeline for the door. and as you stand in front of the same door, sniffling from the remnants of your fight with your parents after your sister - one of the people you’d confided in - deliberately told them about what she thinks - and she thought right - you’re about to do.

two rings later, you’re staring at a face of an angel. doe eyes hiding behind jet black locks widening as the sight of you hits him like a brick.

“____, hey, it’s okay,” jungkook says in the softest voice as he gathers you in his arms like an old cardigan.

“baby, who’s at the door?” comes the loud but smooth baritone a minute later.

he must have seen himself - who their uninvited guest is as silence settles in between all three of you before taehyung’s coos, “oh, sweetie.”

it’s only after an hour of ice cream and watching friends and the two boyfriends wrapping you up in a burrito blanket that you blanket do you spill the beans on why you showed up at their door at 11 in the evening, looking like a mess they never ordered.

your parents are livid. they think this isn’t real - that you’re being delusional and that both taehyung and jungkook were messing with you. it was the slander on the two soul’s names that has you unleashing the words you’d never thought you’d say to your own parents.

“i can take liking girls. that’s fine - but a relationship of three?” your father had stood in front of you, fingers pointing at his head as he spat out, “are you crazy?”

the family dinner had turned into a family quarrel. and your sister had been caught up in between - she’d wanted you too see the ludicrosity of it all and if not her, then maybe you’d listened to your parents.

and listened you did.

like a time bomb surrounded with dynamites, you’d eventually exploded. anything you say would never get through the and anything they said, you’d taken negatively.

so you took the cab straight to taehyung and jungkook’s.

“i just - it hurts because they won’t accept you guys and that means they’re rejecting me,” you sniffle, “i’m sorry i took so long.”

“hey, it’s okay, you’re with us now,” jungkook gathers you in lap whilst taehyung wraps his arms around the both of you from your other side, “yeah, cry all you want sweetie, we’re here for you.”

you wake up the next morning huddled up in a king sized bed with the two men on either side of you, almost like a knights protecting their princess as she slept like a baby after crying her eyes out for another half hour. your legs are tangled together, a pair of mismatched hands on your stomach while a snore resounds from your left where taehyung is sleeping like a beauty and jungkook on your right like an angel.

and for the first time in a long time, that hollowness in your chest cowers away in the light of the day that seeps through the blinds, painting paralleled shadows over your skin.

“i love you,” you whisper, looking between their two peacefully sleeping faces.

x

“hey, beautiful, you come here often?” a gruff voice reverberates in your ears just as you’ve placed the order for you and-

“yeah, with my boyfriends,” you shoot him a polite smile before attempting to slip past him and the stools you’re trapped in between but before you can even manage to move, he inches closer.

it’s been a year since you’ve been dating taehyung and jungkook. eight months since you’ve decided to move in with them for good. your parents reached out to you two months ago after declaring your banishment from ever stepping in their property let alone attend family dinners and gatherings. your relatives have all heard about your unusual but not unreal relationship and so have taehyung’s and jungkook’s families.

opposition still rises from both sides of the families’ distant relatives. it’s not too far off from yours.

“oh, you mean how girls call their lady friends girlfriends,” a lecherous grin forms on his face, “i get it.”

“no,” you hiss, needles of annoyance getting to you earlier tonight than most nights, “i mean my boyfriends who i’m dating.”

the person frowns, confusion clearly painted in his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?” he doesn’t even wait for your response as he takes a step back, “a simple ‘no’ could’ve done the trick, you think you’re better than me?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people,” you tilt your head to the side just the slightest bit, seeing him in a different but not any more attractive angle, “and honey, i know i’m better than you.”

and with that, you raise a challenging brow, daring him to say otherwise just as a smooth but deadly voice calls for you, “____, you were taking so long so we decided to check on you, is everything okay, sweetie?”

“hey man, what business do you have with our girlfriend?” jungkook lifts an eyebrow in a similar fashion as you as he glares down at the man who’s at least a few inches short.

“you-” the man steals a petrified glance at you as the realization sinks in his eyes but before he can say anything, you strut in between the two men, smirking when one of their arms snake around your waist in a possessive nature.

“nope,” you say simply, “shorty here was just leaving, weren’t you?”

he mumbles out something incoherent, between a ‘liar’ and ‘rude’ before scurrying away and out into another part of the bar until you can no longer see him.

“thanks for having my back, babes,” you stand on your tip toe only to have taehyung chuckle, bending over until your lips press his before doing the same to jungkook, “baby,” and the two sharing a kiss together a heartbeat later.

“let’s dance!” you grab their hands and begin to drag them to the dance floor which does nothing if they hadn’t move themselves and they know it too as they laugh, the taller men patting your hair gently because he knows how long you worked on it.

“our girlfriend is so cute, isn’t she?”

jungkook pushes taehyung’s hands away only to ruffle the top of your hair despite your protest, “sure is.”

“my hair!” you lament, “babes, baby messed up my hair!”

you tug on your boyfriend’s sleeve, the man looking between you and his boyfriend, unsure of whether to be the pacifier or the scolder. in the end, he goes in for a kiss on your pouted lips, “you look beautiful either way, sweetie.”

“oh my god, it’s ruined, isn’t it?” you question, eyes filling with dread.

the culprit has the gal to laugh at your predicament until you announce your choice of dance partner being your taller boyfriend for the rest of the night and him not exactly opposing it whilst jungkook is left to trail behind you until he catches up between you, arms around your waist and taehyung’s, “okay, okay, sorry - i’ll make it up to both of you later tonight!”

at that bold yet careless exclamation, you look at taehyung, only to see the corners of his lips lifting into a devious smirk similar to yours.

“it’s been awhile since we took out the whip, hasn’t it?”

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 9 - ‘The Kindest of Kisses Break the Hardest of Hearts”

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (swear I’ll make a masterlist soon)

Summary: Back in London, you find unexpected help in the form of Ives. But when Neil comes back sparks fly... ✨

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So here’s the chapter I’m incredibly excited about... Suppose I should thank Dior for inspiration in this one. Hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing the last scene! Please let me know what you think!

You did not remember the last time you were this happy to be back in London. After the mission in Paris was done, Jasper went back to Boston, and you were free to do what you wanted. You contacted TP, told him how the mission went (without certain details), and in return, got told to wait for more information regarding the next steps. By your estimation, it was less than two weeks left till Kiev and the day when the mysterious plan will be set into motion. You were scared.

Ever since that day in Paris when Neil called, you had a difficult time maintaining normal conversation with him. He would message asking about something as mundane as how your day went, and you would only respond with a short sentence. You could not really explain it if asked. It was as though after hearing his voice and letting yourself have that conversation with him, all the doubts came back with a tripled strength. Suddenly you could almost believe Jasper and his harsh words suggesting that you were not important in Neil’s eyes. Maybe he just liked flirting, and you were conveniently there? That sounded rather plausible. Ever since you started naming those thoughts, an ache in your chest was hard to ignore. And so you did the best you could, which in this case meant low-key ghosting Neil and losing yourself in training and work. 

Surely with enough time and space, you would get over it (him), right?

That was the state of your mind the day when rather surprising help appeared. You have been back in London for a few days and have not really interacted with anyone. Usually, you would spend two hours in the shooting range and then in a sparring session. After you were done, you would retreat to your room and try to ignore the texts that were still occasionally coming. 

“How’s London treating you? Say hello to Anna from me” you glanced at the screen and frowned.

The instant temptation to text back was still there. Only now, it was tainted with much more anxiety and uncertainty.

“It’s alright, rather quiet. I haven’t seen her around though. Maybe she’s moping after you”

Like I am? You sighed and chose to focus on notes from the physics class. You were saved from the study by an unexpected knock on the door. Without thinking, you got up and opened it, only to see Ives standing there with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Hi” you muttered, worried you have forgotten how to behave like a human being.

“Hello, love” he grinned “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No, I was actually rather bored” you admitted with a sheepish smile.

You heard the distinct buzz of a text message but chose to ignore it. You were slowly getting better at the game. 

“That’s terrific because I thought we could have a coffee in the canteen and chat” Ives’ thick cockney accent was somewhat adorable.

And you could definitely do with a distraction.

“I’d love that” you beamed back at him and left the room, locking the door behind you.

As you walked side by side along the corridor, you struggled to say something.

“How did you know I’m here?” finally you settled for a rather easy question.

“I’ve seen you at the shooting range in the morning” he watched you closely for a short moment “You’re fucking amazing, did you know that?”

“Oh no, I’m really not” you felt your face heat up.

“Yeah you are” he playfully nudged you in the side “You could probably teach me a thing or two”.

You glared at him and then quickly considered your options.

“Only if you taught me how not to be knocked out within the first two minutes of the hand in hand combat” you knew you could use help in that department.

“Deal?” Ives stopped and turned to you with an outstretched hand.

“Deal” you shook it with a grin.

Once you made it to the mess hall, you noticed with relief that it was rather quiet. You both made coffee and sat down at the table in the corner. After a few moments of comfortable silence when you sipped your drinks, Ives spoke up:

“What have you been up to?” he was eyeing you curiously.

Even though you barely knew him, you felt at ease. There was no enigma of TP to him or Neil’s intensity. Instead, he was just a friendly bloke with sharp wits.

“Oh you know, shit mission in New York and now even shittier one in Paris” you frowned at the fresh memories “Though I suppose the recent one at least ended with success” you mused.

It was true not all of your missions have ended with a huge fuck up. And that was somewhat encouraging.

“With Jasper?”

“Yeah” your frown deepened, and Ives grinned.

“My condolences. He’s a right pain in the ass”

“Well said” you laughed, finally feeling some of the tension of the last few days dissolve.

But it was not meant to be for long. Before either of you spoke again, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of the pocket and glanced at the received text. It was him, of course. You grimaced and placed the phone screen down on the table as if to avoid the temptation. All the while you felt Ives’s attentive gaze. He has not missed a thing.

“Neil?” he asked, watching you closely with a neutral face.

“Yeah…” you shrugged, avoiding his stare “I’ll probably sound pathetic… but do you know where he is?”

Once the question was out of your mouth, you felt your cheeks heat up. It was one thing to worry about him daily. Another to actually voice the worries. But Ives did not seem to mind. He quickly considered something before leaning over the table.

“He’s in India, dealing with some sudden disruption. I was there with him in the beginning” at your unspoken question, he added “He’s fine, often said that’s partially thanks to you” he eyed you carefully, and you looked down at the table, flustered.

“It’s more that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t even need help in the first place” you mumbled, feeling the guilt gnaw at your heart.

Still, sometimes you kept wondering why on earth had he decided to shield you back in the bar. But any possible answer to the question meant having to assume something about Neil’s intentions. And that was dangerous territory.

“Should I ask?” Ives’ question brought you back to the present moment.

“Better not” you smiled wryly, and he just nodded.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you sometimes, you know” he spoke up again after a short silence, making you look up.

You were not sure you liked the cheeky smirk that appeared on Ives’ face. You were not going to give in.

“He’ll get over it in no time, I’m sure” you feigned nonchalance as you finished your coffee and met his gaze.

“Are you two good?”

You just shrugged. To be frank, you had no clue how to answer that. Was there even such an entity as ‘you two’ when it came to you and Neil?

“Well, whatever is going on, know that I’m ready to slap some sense into him if needed” Ives grinned at you, and you beamed back.

“Appreciated”

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence. That is until your brain rudely decided to suggest another pressing question.

“Is he there… alone?” you cringed as soon as you said it aloud.

No point in trying to sound disinterested…

“Nah, Wheeler stayed with a couple of others” his stare was way too knowing.

You felt a sharp stab of pain in your heart. What even… There was no reason to be jealous. Right? As you were internally debating what the new feelings were supposed to mean, you failed to notice Ives’ grinning at your distress.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous” he was enjoying it way too much.

“What? No, I’m not” you tried to scoff at this insinuation but failed miserably.

“Yeah, you are” that’s how you learnt that Ives had his own version of a shit-eating grin.

Was that a part of the Tenet work application?

“Mate, Neil and Wheeler wouldn’t fuck each other even if I paid them. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you” Ives wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you groaned.

You glared at him, unable to come up with any good response.

“What? I may have only seen you two together once, but it was clear to me that dear Neil is interested. Very much so” he smirked at your wide-eyed stare “But I don’t think that’s in any way news for you” he squinted his eyes as though trying to see right through your soul.

“Please, let’s leave psychoanalysis for another date” you grabbed the phone from the table and looked at him pleadingly.

“Of course” he grinned “When shall we have our first sparring lesson?”

“Tomorrow morning. Be there at 9” you got up “Thanks for the chat”

“Anytime, love” he waved as you left the canteen.

*** Combat lessons with Ives have proven to be a gift from the gods in the days that followed. He would accompany you to the shooting range afterward as well under the pretence of wanting to learn from you. Even though you were sure it was utter bullshit as he could hit the marks as well as you, if not better, you appreciated the sentiment. To say that his help in the sparring sessions meant you have greatly improved would be an overstatement, but certainly, additional tips slowly started to make a difference. All that distraction meant you also spent much less time wondering about Neil’s whereabouts and asking yourself existential questions about your own feelings. That was probably the best outcome of the situation.

Another morning of the sparring session began with you and Ives meeting in the gym as usual. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as you entered the gym.

“More or less” you grinned, stifling a yawn.

Last night you spent way too much time overthinking the text exchange with Neil. All it took was for him to mention ‘the fun you had in New York’ and then compare it to the recent night undercover. To you, it meant that Jasper was right, and you were just another ‘flirting companion’. And that shit hurt.

“That will have to do then” he tossed a water bottle in your direction, and you caught it easily.

You set it down on the side and the mat and stood facing Ives. After a short warm-up, he began showing you the way of blocking punches aimed at your upper body. While the demonstration always looked easy, once you went onto the practice, you have begun to struggle. After getting a third light punch to the shoulder, you huffed:

“Maybe I should just give up and become a sniper” you rubbed the aching spot.

“That could work” he grinned “Though I’m not sure how Neil would feel about that career change”

“Fuck Neil” you made sure to put up your guard, expecting another punch.

“I see how it is” Ives smirked before he threw a hit towards your other shoulder.

This one you blocked. And the one afterward as well. Slowly, with only a few mistakes, you got the hang of the game. That is until you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat by the door. You both turned to see Anna standing there.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” she sent you a fake smile.

Christ…

“Of course”

You looked at Ives with panic in your eyes before you followed her into the corridor. Anna was clearly uncomfortable with having to talk to you, and that did not ease the tension.

“What’s the matter?” you spoke up first, hating the awkwardness of the moment.

“Neil called me yesterday” she paused, and you frowned.

“Yeah?” if she wanted to torture you, she has succeeded.

“He wanted me to let you know that they got Steiner in New York” despite Anna’s best attempts at keeping her face neutral, you knew she was enjoying this.

“Okay, thanks” you smiled weakly, trying to ignore the jealousy building up in your chest.

“Oh, and he says he should be back next week” now she was smiling dazzlingly.

“Great” you mumbled and showed her your brightest grin “Thank you”

With that, you chose to end the tortures for you both and went back into the gym. At Ives’ questioning stare, you just glared. He understood instantly.

“Fuck Neil?” he offered you a sip from the water bottle, which you gladly accepted.

“Mhmm”

There was so much to unpack from what Anna told you. Partially, you knew your ghosting was to be blamed for the situation but still, it hurt. Especially the unspoken fact that Neil has called her. You knew you were being ridiculous but could not ignore the feelings that were attacking every fibre of your being.

“Ready for another round?” Ives looked at you worriedly.

“Absolutely”

*** A few days later, as you left a meeting covering suspicious activity around London, your head was most certainly elsewhere. Ever since the awkward situation with Anna, you were not sure what to do with yourself. Only carefree moments were those you spent in the shooting range or learning hand to hand combat with Ives, who was surprisingly great at distracting you.

Walking along the corridor, you were too busy worrying about all those texts you have ignored to see where you were going. With eyes trained on the floor, you barely registered the surroundings. And that is why you were incredibly surprised when you unexpectedly collided with something solid standing on your path.

“Fuck” you muttered before slowly realising that you have, in fact, walked into a person.

You felt someone’s hands reach out to steady you by wrapping around your waist. The next thing you registered was the smell. A very familiar one that you have tried to repress from memory for the past few weeks. You felt panic surge through your whole body before you let out a long exhale and lifted your head.

“Didn’t expect our reunion to be that dramatic, but I’m not complaining” Neil grinned at you with that smug look on his face you have grown to hate.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you” you choose to stare at his tie.

A nice burgundy one which he has worn in New York, during the mission. At the memory, your cheeks grew somehow warmer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by the earth. But to no avail.

“Are you alright?” his voice broke through the increasing paralysis.

“Yeah” you forced yourself to look up at him again.

The concern in his eyes only made your desire to run stronger. But his grip on your waist was unyielding. You were acutely aware of standing in the middle of the corridor. Anyone could pass by and see you like that. But it looked like Neil did not care.

“I tried calling you last night” his voice was tense.

Shit.

“Sorry I was busy” you were a terrible liar.

And, of course, he saw right through you. You noticed how the look in his eyes went from concern to serious worry, and you desperately wanted to flee the scene. He was studying your face, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. After a beat, he must have found some answers in your conflicted expression because he relaxed the grip on your waist, giving you a way out.

“If I said anything wrong…” you were thrown off by the slightly wounded look in his eyes.

Now that you actually could run away, you did not want to. Not without making sure he understood.

“You haven’t” you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing heart “It’s… just things that Jasper said and stuff… it made me think” you mentally groaned, annoyed at how you could not form a coherent sentence.

But Neil understood as he nodded and reached for your hand. You let him lead you to a quieter spot in the adjacent corridor. You were still paralyzed with conflicting feelings, but now also curious. The voice in the back of your head kept on reminding you how much you have missed him. You had your back pressed against the wall and stared as he slowly stepped closer, making your personal space non-existent. It was suddenly hard to think about the reasons why you should not let him be this close. The look in his eyes was unreadable to you.

“I don’t know what that idiot told you or what’s going on in your head, but it’s all wrong” you felt his free hand slide up your arm to rest on your neck and gently caress the skin there.

It was embarrassing how you responded to his touch with your body tensing and goosebumps appearing where his fingers made contact with your skin. It was hard to lie, even to yourself.

“Why should I believe you?” your voice sounded breathless already.

You knew you should have never let him get this close before you talked. But still, the way he looked at you was surprising. Any train of thought was interrupted when he brushed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. His eyes were darker than usual, and the intensity of his gaze alone made the flutters in your stomach appear.

“I’ve got a few reasons”

Gently he tilted your chin and covered your lips with his. You gasped at the contact and felt him smile against your mouth. Then, as though a switch was flipped, Neil started kissing you hungrily, and you responded in kind, letting your teeth graze his lower lip. When his hand wrapped around your neck, you felt lightheaded and breathless. But still, you deepened the kiss, making all the feelings you have tried to stifle lead the moment. It was scaringly easy to do. Only once you felt like you had no breath left, you broke the kiss and stared back at Neil with a dazed expression. That was not what you expected from your reunion.

“Hope that beat whatever Jasper had to offer you” he grinned, and you enjoyed the sight of his subtly swollen lips.

“Please don’t remind me” surprisingly, you could still form a sentence.

But that ability was soon to be gone as you watched mischievous sparks shine in his eyes. His lips curled into a smirk, and you knew you were fucked. In every meaning of the word. Before you could react, he leaned in closer again, kissed the corner of your mouth before leaving a trail of kisses down to your jawline, and then crook of the neck.

“Neil…” you breathed out, trying to somehow stop the situation from getting out of your hands.

“Yes?” he interlocked his fingers with yours, pinning your joined hands to the wall.

Perfect leverage. Thinking was getting increasingly difficult.

“I… I’ve missed you” that was not exactly what you wanted to say.

You heard him chuckle with his lips brushing the skin on your neck.

“Quite right” he kissed the spot beneath your ear “Too”.

You sighed at the sensation, tightening the grip on his hand and letting your other palm splay on his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the fast heartbeat. It was somewhat encouraging to know that it was not just your heart that was beating wildly. He was kissing your neck with something akin to reverence, which made you feel faint. The traces of reason left in your brain started screaming for attention.

“Neil” you huffed, annoyed at how you were unable to voice the mess of thoughts.

Slowly he lifted his head and looked back at you.

“I really like how you say my name” the roguish grin that began it all was back to haunt you “So breathless” his voice was huskier than usual.

He wanted to kill you, evidently.

You met his gaze helplessly, feeling vulnerable with how he could see right through you. He looked almost fascinated by your stunned expression. Then his eyes softened.

“I missed you too” you felt his hand travel down your body to settle on the hip “So much”.

That admission was all it took for you to lose it. Again. You leaned in and initiated another kiss, unable to deny the need you felt. Neil was ready as he easily matched the tempo you have set. This time neither of you wanted to rush it. Instead, you kissed slowly and delicately, enjoying the careless moment. You tangled your hand in his blonde strands, tugging lightly to bring him even closer. He groaned at the sensation, making you feel a new kind of tension. You wanted him to make that sound again. But before you could find ways of achieving that, on the periphery of your attention, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps approaching fast. Then they stopped abruptly and were replaced with a shocked gasp.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring straight at Anna. Fuck. She was frozen in the spot three meters away and had a bewildered expression on her face. You knew there was no way in hell she has not realised what was going on. You could only watch as her face scrunched up in a scowl before she turned on her heels and almost ran back down the corridor. That image was enough to help you wake up from the daze. Gently you disentangled from Neil, who looked confused. Despite the reality of the situation downing on you, you grinned seeing his ruffled hair and disoriented gaze.

“Well done, now Anna hates me” you warily eyed the corridor before settling your eyes on him again.

You watched as he slowly absorbed the information, frowned, and then brightened up again when he met your gaze.

“Pretty sure she did already” he eyed you carefully as though assessing the state he brought you to.

Conscious of how you looked, you smoothed your hair and patted your blazed cheeks. There was no pretending that nothing happened, even if you wanted to.

“Why?” you arched your eyebrow at the implication.

“You know why” he just smiled as though it explained everything.

You didn’t know why. At all. You watched as he ruffled his hair even further by combing a hand through it, and your eyes settled on the exposed forearm and rolled up sleeves. For some reason seeing him like that was very thought-provoking. You knew he caught your stare when you heard him chuckle.

“Like what you see?” it was that smug smirk again.

You could not help but roll your eyes at him. This time the voice of reason was not so easily ignored.

“We really should talk before…” you did not even want to finish the sentence.

“Before?” Neil took a step closer again.

“Before we do something much more reckless than… this” you gestured vaguely and took a step back.

“Would that really be so bad?” he bit his lip and eyed you curiously again.

You have had enough. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him back. That clearly surprised him.

“Let’s just talk. Please” you put on your best puppy eyes just for him.

That did the job. Thankfully.

“Couldn’t say no to that” he grinned and took your hand in his “C’mon”

Now you just had to figure out what to tell him. The only issue was that you had no idea about how you felt… Fun.

[thewildwaffle]

Plants With Teeth

A requested idea from a reader on ao3.

“Welcome to the Junto Space Port," the security repeated the same old procedure with each new wave of visitors passing through. "All incoming travelers must check-in through customs before continuing. Please make sure proper identification is ready to be presented." Kartch followed the flow of travelers without much thought. She'd done this route so often with her business ventures, she almost had the number of steps from the terminal to each of the check-in spots memorized. Her eyes glazed once again over the sea of fellow travelers. There was an exceptionally large variety of species on this trip. That wasn’t too odd. It was a popular time to travel to Junto. The weather was exceptionally pleasant this time of the year, celebrations and festivals were going on nearly in every street and township in the region, the harvest of several important crops was just about wrapped up, and business and inter-solar trade were booming. Kartch wondered just how many of her fellow ex-passengers were here on vacation and how many like her were here to work. A heavy something from behind smacked into her short tail. It didn’t hurt really, but it was enough to throw her off balance. With a surprised squeak, she dropped her luggage and reached with all four arms instinctively to try to grab something, anything, to stop her fall. Before she hit the floor, strong hands grabbed her and carefully helped her back up. “Woah there, I gotcha, I gotcha,” a voice she could tell was being translated by her chip filled her ears. “Sam, you gotta be more careful, you nearly took them out!” Kartch looked up into the face of the alien that had saved her, who in turn looked down at them with a concerned expression on their light brown face. “I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” It was a human. Kartch stared for half a glip before catching herself. She’d of course seen plenty of humans before but hadn’t ever dealt with them directly or this closely. Now one was basically holding her.

“Sorry Mirela,” another voice piped up from behind. Kartch looked, it was another human carrying what looked like must be a large, hard plastic case that must have been what hit her earlier. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” the human holding Kartch helped her back up to her feet and picked up the dropped luggage. “I’m sorry,” the reprimanded human dipped their head. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and shouldn’t have been messing around with the boxes like that.” Kartch made a gesture as if she was brushing herself off. “I accept your apology. I’m not hurt and all is well.” Mirela frowned at the other human as she stood back up to her full height.“You shouldn’t have been messing around with them at all. Those are merchandise, not toys.” Mirela leaned over to pick up another two boxes that appeared to be identical to the ones her companion was carrying. Never one to be rude enough to ask aloud, Kartch wondered what the humans were carrying and what they planned to sell. Instead, she asked, "Those look heavy. Wouldn't you prefer a wagon to carry them?" The human Mirela smiled. "We're fine. We’ve got someone getting one for the rest of what we've got. And well, these things are lighter than they look. They're just a bit bulky to carry. Thank you for your concern though." Then as if knowing the question Kartch had on her mind. "We've got a few little plants we're taking to the street market in the north Jupo District." “Plants?!” Kartch started and gave the pair of humans with a bit of alarm. “To sell? From Earth? I hope you don’t have much trouble getting through customs.” “Yeah, no we made sure we followed all the requirements. No pollens, nothing bearing easily spread seeds, nothing poisonous, etc.” As Mirela spoke, another human approached, pushing a wagon laden with more of the large boxes. Mirela glanced over at the new arrival before turning back to Kartch with a soft smile. “We did our research, don’t you worry.” “Mirela,” the new human stopped the wagon to look between their companion and Kartch. “Uh, they got the plants up here in good time alright. Um. Are we… what’s going on?” Kartch cleared her throat. “Ah, well. I won’t keep you. May the stars grant you luck.” With a smile and a wave, a common farewell among humans, Mirela and the other were off. As Kartch continued on her way, she couldn’t help but steal another look at them. Humans, she thought. Huh. Well, go figure they’d want to visit Junto. Compared to their home planet, or at least what she’d heard of it, Junto must seem to be a paradise of safety and splendor. The customs lines were long and weren’t moving as fast as she’d like. It took forever to wind through the twists and turns of the queue. She kept looking at her timepiece, growling quietly each time she did so. She wished they’d open more customs booths, that would help ever so much with getting everyone through more efficiently. Or that they do something at least, this was taking more time than she'd planned. After what seemed like partecs, she reached the front of the line. She hefted her luggage onto the inspection counter with a huff that was a mix of exasperation from her wait and relief that it was over. The security personnel began with the regular questions and asked for identification. As she pulled it out and handed it over, she saw the humans she had run into earlier arrive at the front of the line just next to her. She heard them being called up and watched only for a moortik as they placed a few of their boxes on the counter before she returned her attention to her own business. It was not polite to stare after all, and she just needed to make sure she got through here without any more further delays. The security personnel behind the counter was just finishing up with their inspection of her luggage and wrapping things up when a surprised screech nearly made everyone jump. Kartch turned her head, looking for the source of such alarm. Surely someone was hurt? Or in danger? What was it? “What are those things?!” Kartch found the source of the alarming sound. It was the security personnel at the counter with the humans. Said personnel was now looking slightly orange in the face and was staring into the now opened boxes the humans were transporting. Kartch, as well as everyone else nearby, leaned in to try to get a better look at what all the commotion was about. The human Mirela sighed and pulled the box open a bit more and pulled out one of the specimens. It was a flexible clear cylinder with a small green plant inside. Kartch could see the plant had large oval-shaped leaves or petals at the end that had a bit of red coloring with small thin stems pointing out and slightly up from the petals. So those were the plants the humans were going to sell? Well, they looked harmless enough, cute even. What had gotten into the security-? “Are those teeth?!?” the customs worker nearly squeaked out the words. Everyone who had been looking on froze. What? “They’re venus flytraps,” Mirela explained calmly. “They’re a carnivorous plant from Earth.” She pulled out an important-looking paper and handed it across the table. “We have a permit to sell them and a signed acknowledgment from the Inter-System Trade Commission of their safety and potential as a useful house-plant, as well as permissions to sell and trade them within the Junto system. The customs personnel didn’t look like he’d quite overcome his shock just yet. “Carnivorous… plant?” he repeated back. Kartch agreed with his confusion. Those two words didn’t sound like they belonged together in the same sentence. That little plant in the human’s hand didn’t look like it deserved such a bizarre description. Her own customs personnel, finally breaking his stare at the proceedings of the booth next to his own, finally shut Kartch’s luggage, stamped its carding, and slid it back to her with a silent nod before returning attention back to the drama next to him. Kartch pulled her luggage off the counter and slowly stepped toward the exit, her eyes still locked on the strange plant in question. It didn’t seem that strange-looking to her to cause such a ruckus. But then she saw it. Or rather, she got a better look at it. The stems she thought she saw curving delicately away from the petals were actually teeth. Oh. Those were teeth. That plant had teeth. Plant teeth. Those petals were some sort of plant mouth?! The customs personnel numbly took the paper the human Mirela handed and scanned over it, looking perhaps a bit too dumbstruck to really comprehend what was actually written. Mirela continued to explain what the plant was and did. How it could survive in even the poorest soil, how it could trap and digest small insects and pests for nourishment, and how the Inter-System Trade Commission as well as several committees and interplanetary environmental groups had studied and approved it, and were even pushing for it’s use in helping to combat a dangerous pest infestation problem on the third moon of Biurbitak. Kartch could stop and wait forever to hear more, the next person in line behind her slowly shuffled up to the counter. And anyway, she did have places to be. Blinking and shaking her head, she tore her eyes away from the strange plant held by the strange alien. As she finally walked out of the exit, she felt her fur prickle across her body. Carnivorous plants. Those are apparently a thing. She took a deep breath and let it out. What kind of planet must Earth be that it’s so dangerous, even the plants have teeth?

[sometimesiwritebadly]

No Thoughts (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Summary: After you run into your ex on a case, Spencer’s jealousy causes him to cut you out from his mind. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Language. Mentions kidnapping. Also a stupid ex-boyfriend.

Notes: Y’know, i really wish i hadn’t hitched my wagon to the whole “ ____ Thoughts” title scheme. if i had known this was gonna be my most successful series on this website i would’ve done something better. but it’s too late now so. anyways this takes place after Overwhelming and before Life-Saving. It’s angsty but don’t worry there’s some fluff at the end. Also i kinda wanted to yell at spencer for how annoying he’s being in this one but then i remembered that i made him act that way so don’t be too mad at me 

Word Count: 1.7k

Soulmate Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You’re 3 months into a relationship with Spencer Reid, your soulmate, and you couldn’t be happier. It hasn't been the easiest getting used to having another person in your head, but both you and Spencer have gotten a pretty good handle on controlling your rogue thoughts. It definitely wasn’t perfect, but even the worst days with Spencer were still miles ahead of any day you’d had without him.

You and Spencer were at his apartment, enjoying a rare day off. You were rewatching Doctor Who and cuddling on his couch, arguing over the best and worst companions.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Martha! I just think her being in love with the Doctor was stupid!” You said, laughing at Spencer’s shocked face.

“Stupid? That was brilliant! It showed how the Doctor isn’t this perfect guy like the show made him out to be with Rose!”

“No, it just made it seem like the Doctor was irresistible! It made him seem even more perfect, which is why Donna-” Spencer, scoffed, knowing where your argument was heading, “Is the best companion! She’s the only one who doesn’t want to fuck him!”

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. He grabbed it, and once he saw who was on the other side, put it on speaker. “Hey JJ, what’s up?”

“We have a case. Hotch wants everyone here in 30 so we can brief on the plane. Is Y/N with you?”

“Always. We’ll see you soon, JJ.” You responded. Spence hung up the phone and stoof from the couch, before turning back to you and holding out a hand to help you off the couch. “I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong later.”

~~~

After a 6 hour flight, the BAU landed in Seattle. On the plane, Hotch had explained that there had been 3 children taken, all within an hour of each other, from 3 different homes in the area. It’s their job to determine if it’s one unsub, a group, or isolated incidents. After dropping off all their things at the hotel, they made their way to the police station. When they walked in, however, they were greeted by the last person Y/N wanted to see. “Oh fuck me.” She thought.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer had heard her, and was immediately concerned. So much for having control over her thoughts. Before she could answer, the reason for her worry began speaking.

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Detective Rothschild. If you guys need anything, I’ll be the one to help-” He cut himself off when his eyes landed on you. “Y/N? I didn’t know you were in the BAU now, How’ve you been?” The whole team had their gaze turned to you now. You could hear Spencer’s questions about the detective flying through your head, but you ignored them all. 

“I’m good James. We can catch up after we find the kids.” And just like that, the topic was dropped. Finding those kids within the first 24 hours was the most important thing right now, but that didn’t stop Spencer’s thoughts. No matter what was going on, Spencer was in your mind, asking you about James. 

“C’mon just tell me how you know each other! I promise I’ll focus on the case.” His question entered your mind as the two got ready to head to one of the crime scenes.

“Spence, I told you earlier, we went to college together.”

“Ok, but that’s not all. Why won’t you tell me?”

“I just don’t like talking about it! Please, can we discuss this some other time?” You answered him out loud this time, just to get your point across. You knew you’d have to tell him about your relationship with James, but you would much rather do it when the two of you are alone and not in a police precinct in the middle of a case. Before you could walk out the door and head to the crime scene, you heard someone calling your name. When you turned around, you found James walking towards you. “Great,” You thought.

“Hey, I’ll come with you guys to the crime scene, I haven’t been to this one yet. Plus, I’ll finally get the chance to catch up with Y/N here!” As he spoke, James’ arm found its way over your shoulder. You could practically feel Spencer’s anger. 

“Right, well, uh, let’s get going then. I’ll drive.” You subtly pushed James’ hand off your shoulder before speed-walking over to the car.

~~~

The drive to the crime scene was tense, to say the least. James had no problem filling the silence with anecdotes from your college days, which all suggested that the two of you were slightly more than friends. Sure, you and Spencer had talked about your respective previous relationships before, but it was a whole different ball game to be sitting next to your ex-boyfriend and your soulmate.

“Babydoll, you remember when we went to that frat party? We played strip beer pong, and let’s just say she was not very good at the game…” James went on and on, not stopping to let anyone else speak. All you could do was reassure Spencer with your thoughts, but he wasn’t responding. In fact, Spencer hadn’t let a single thought slip throughout the whole ride, and you were more than a little worried. A couple months ago you and Spencer had promised to not shut each other out, and this was the longest you’d gone without hearing any of his thoughts since then. Sure, it was only a 20 minutes drive, but you missed him. By the time you were pulling up to the crime scene, it was clear he’d had enough. The second the car stopped, Spencer practically jumped out and made his way to the crime scene, not waiting for you and James to follow. James took no notice, and continued telling his version of the story.

“And then you just jumped on the table and started dancing! I’ve never seen someone that drunk even be able to stand on a table without falling, let alone dance!” He laughed as the two of you made your way towards the police tape. “I could barely get you home that night!”

His last sentence made you stop walking. Unlike with Spencer, he noticed your movements, and stopped as well. “What?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Of course that’s what happened, Y/N. You were drunk, you’re probably just-”

“No, that’s not what happened James. Yes, I danced on the table, but you didn’t take me home that night, remember? You met Joslyn at that party, and you broke up with me. I walked home alone.” The crime scene was the furthest thing from your mind at this point. How could he forget the night he met his own soulmate?

“Oh. Right. Joslyn.” It didn’t take a profiler to see how uncomfortable he was. He was acting like he didn’t even remember her. “About that…” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to put the pieces together.

“Oh my god, she wasn’t your soulmate, was she?” The guilty look in his eyes was all you needed as an answer. “You just pretended she was so you had an easy out with me, right?”

“Look, Y/N-”

“James, it’s been a long time, I don’t need an apology from you. Let’s just solve this damn case and never see each other again.” And with that, you walked away.

~~~

13 hours of non-stop work and 3 kids safely home with their families later, you were back on the jet and headed towards DC. Everyone, even Hotch, was asleep, except for you and Spencer. You hadn’t had time to discuss everything that had happened with James, and he still wasn’t sending you any thoughts. So instead of going to sleep like you both desperately wanted, you pulled him to the back of the jet and away from the rest of the sleeping team.

“Seriously, Spence, I miss you. Will you please let me explain now?” You thought, hoping he’d respond similarly. Unfortunately, he just nodded, still refusing to let you into his thoughts.

“Yes, James and I dated back in college, but it was a long time ago, Spencer. He was an asshole. We were never even official, he’d just call me, fuck me, and then not talk to me until he felt like hooking up again.” Spencer was fiddling with his hands as your thoughts made his way to his brain. “Everything about that relationship was a mistake, ok? You know how he dumped me? He pretended to find his soulmate at some party just to get rid of me. I didn’t love him.” When Spencer still didn’t respond, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry. Was he really going to let some random ex get in the way of your relationship? 

“I can’t help it, Y/N.” When you finally heard his thoughts, you sighed in relief. That was the longest you’d ever gone without feeling his presence, and even though this wasn’t over yet, you knew you’d get through it. “I know you didn’t love him, but hearing the way he spoke about you, hearing about how you were with him…”

“I know, Spence. I’d be the same way if you had an ex pop out of nowhere during one of our cases. But please, we gotta be able to deal with this. We both had relationships outside of us, this could happen again.”

“Y/N…” He paused for a moment, then continued out loud, “I promise I won’t cut you out like that again. I know you didn’t love him, and I made a big deal out of nothing, but I love you.” Your eyes immediately found his when he spoke. He’d never said that before. He had a light smile on his face when you looked at him. “I love you, and I’m never going to stop.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you more.” He thought as your lips touched his.

“Not possible.”

~~~

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @random-thoughts-003 @peculiarinsomniac @hereforbeebo @someone-you-dontknow

(I went through all the replies/asks that asked about being tagged for this series but if I missed you lmk!!)

[completeotometrash]

Secret Love (Jumin Han Fluff)

(WARNING): Spoilers for Seven’s route, implied nsfw. Read at your own risk.

Part 1

Word count: 2.4k

(She/her) pronouns.

.................

For years he has hopelessly longed for her. There was never a second that he thought she was anything other than ethereal beauty. Like a graceful and refined goddess, she blesses his vision. Though Jumin Han is not one to express his feelings or be interested in art for that matter, somehow, she makes seeing both so much clearer.

 He can recall the day she entered the RFA chat room, the way she presented herself. He is still amazed with how daring and bold she was. Everyone loves her for it. At the party, she wore a beautiful red dress that flattered her every curve and did wonders for his wandering mind. But it was not her body that truly earned his attention, rather, her charisma; the way she adapted and took advantage of every opportunity. They got along surprisingly well and even scheduled dinners to enjoy together so they could keep in touch. But she was never too close. He knows he is a busy man; he has no time to indulge in romantic affairs. Even with that aside, from his knowledge she does not share the same feelings.

 So, they stayed strictly platonic.

  Another year passed; another party was thrown. That time she truly outdid herself. Over a thousand guests were brought in, triple the usual. She slaved away to ensure that it was a great success; and that it was. She did not appear to be overworked, the smile on her face that traveled up to her eyes was magnificent. He found that to be a beautiful quality, the ability to stay positive. His heart hammered in his chest harder than it ever had. That night he found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours but the exhaustion never came.

 Finally, there is now. He has watched her grow more successful and gain the respect of everyone around her in less than three years. Her parties have raised millions of dollars that has all been donated to charity.

 They talk every day in the chat rooms, but it never satisfies the urge to speak to her. To hear her voice. As he normally would not act upon this, his fingers are already dialing her number. She picks up only seconds later.

 ~~~

With poise, she brings the glass of wine to her lips, one he specially ordered from a famous brewer located in Europe. After a small sip, she licks her bottom lip. He watches her reaction that seems to be a pleased one with the grin that follows.

 “It’s exquisite, Jumin. Some of the best that I’ve ever tasted!” She chuckles giddily, setting the glass down. He tries a sip of his own and agrees.

 “I’m glad you enjoy it. Would you like the winemaker’s contact information?” He takes another sip before adjusting his collar. She nods, trailing on about how she should invite him to the party as a guest. Her enthusiasm does terrible things to his body. Jumin finds himself heating up and wanting to take off his jacket.

 He doesn’t, of course. He has self-control.

 “So why is it that you would rather meet here at my estate than go out?” As he enjoyed her company and greatly prefer staying home himself, he could not help but ask. She has only visited his home once before, a brief exchange to deliver something.

 She fixes her posture, crossing her right leg over the other. ���Honestly, I just wanted to enjoy you and our time together without anyone being around. As much as I love going out with you, I prefer just relaxing together on a less formal level.” She glances around only to look down at her hands, “Also, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what your apartment looks like.” She nervously laughs, rubbing her hands together.

 He swallows, his throat becoming tighter. Such honesty in her statement making him feel a little bashful. Taking a deep breath, he stands. “If you’re interested in my decor, I can show you around.” In a way, he takes pride in the way he keeps his house tidy. He has a modern dark theme with all the newest gadgets on the market. She happily obliges, standing beside him.

 ~~~

“The view is breathtaking.” She stares out the window with astonishment, finishing her glass of wine. He agrees, but only watches her.

 “Yes. The city is quite beautiful in the afternoon while the lights are lit. I made sure of that while searching for my apartment. I’ve found that Elizabeth the Third enjoys the view as well.”

 She cackles, shaking her head. “You know, you’ve got her spoiled. It’s actually really cute, just how much you care for her.” Turning to face him, her head tilts to the side. “You’re a good host. We should do this more often.”

 Revealing a small smile of his own, he looks down at her. “I appreciate your words and agree that we should do this more often. I find myself enjoying your presence in a less formal environment nice as well.” A small moment of vulnerability.

 She gasps, excitedly clapping her hands. “One day, maybe we can do some wine tasting while watching a movie!”

 Jumin takes her empty glass and refills it and his own. “I don’t see why we can’t do that now unless you have plans for tomorrow. It’s getting rather late.” He checks the time on his watch. “If not, I’ll have a ride set up to safely escort you home.”

 “I don’t mind staying. “

 Despite having the movie ready and being situated on the couch nearly an hour ago, it was never started. Sitting side by side, he talks with her instead.

 “I’ve always wanted to visit Rome and see the Sistine Chapel! The art there is so beautiful.” She leans back, seemingly more relaxed after two glasses of wine. He too feels the effects of the alcohol.

 “That is one place I have not been yet. As I’ve never been one to care for art, I’m sure your company there would be nice.” Jumin freezes, realizing the gravity of his statement as her eyes grow wider. There’s the crippling fear of her suddenly being repulsed by him. Mentally, he scolds himself for possibly making her uncomfortable. “I apologize if that was too-”

 His sentence is stopped yet again, but this time she is the one to do it. “In the future I’d love to go with you. What is the fun in traveling alone, anyways?” She smiles, rubbing her head. “Shall we start the movie now?”

 He inhales sharply, lifting the remote and pressing play.

 ~~~

When the credits roll, he shifts, ready to go to bed. Seemingly, she’s already passed the point of exhaustion, eyes closed and chest heaving slowly. Jumin wonders how long she has been asleep and whether he should wake her. He yawns, standing up. It’s dark and it would be dangerous to send her home at this time. That is what he tells himself, at least.

 That night he brought her to his guest room, now being unable to forget about it. She went home early the next morning and insisted that she leave immediately. The next day he was given a gift from her, an apology for her accidentally falling asleep. If she gave it to him in person, he would have returned it, she need not apologize for something a friend should do. Although, he cannot help but feel flattered by it. She gave him a navy-blue tie from one of his favorite brands. The material is soft against his fingers; he incorporates it in his outfit for the party.

 The day of the party comes quickly, it is at a different location his time because it’s become much vaster. The area is loud, everyone talks cheerfully with each other. Business owners negotiate and bond over shared interests. The same brewer he told her about that was invited to the party was so flattered that he gifted several bottles of his product for it. He notices it being served at the bar.

 Jumin continues to scan the room, firstly wanting to congratulate MC. He walks around until he feels a tap to his shoulder. It’s a very excited Saeyoung.

 “Jumin! We’ve been looking for you.” Seven steps back, motioning for Jumin to follow. He rounds the corner and immediately notices a familiar tuff of teal hair. He joins the circle, adjusting his sleeve.

 “Good afternoon, everyone. The party seems to be a success.” He pops into the conversation in his own giddy way. His excitement doesn’t show, it almost never does.

 “Jumin, greetings! We’re glad you could make it.” V smiles wholeheartedly, nodding his head in his companion’s direction.

 Yoosung smiles as well, chiming up when he sees him. “The party just gets better every year with MC! She’s just amazing at what she does.” His eyes glimmer with adoration. 

  Zen crosses his arms, looking around. “Of course, she works her ass off every year, and it pays off. I worry about if she doesn’t take time to relax.” It’s no surprise that Zen worries for her well-being, the multiple lectures in the chat rooms prove just that. 

 “I’m sure she takes time for breaks; she also knows that we’re here to help with the guests of needed be.” Jahee pushes up her glasses, “Good afternoon, Mr. Han.”

 Jumin straightens his posture, “Where is MC at?” His mind returns to its original concern, craving to see her again after their last meeting. 

 Jihyun places a hand on his shoulder playfully. “She left a few minutes ago to give her speech on the stage, she should be there any moment now- “

 Ironically, at that moment, the sound of the mic booms through the speakers, silencing the room.

 Jumin is left speechless when he spots her. She wears an elegant dress that reaches just below her knees. It has a V-cut front with golden embroidery; being tight around her hips. She screams utter elegance, and he cannot look away.

 Awkwardly, she readies the mic, smiling at everyone in the room. A part of him wishes he were the only one to see it. She looks around, taking a deep breath. “Thank you to everyone who could be here and join us this evening; your presence today means a lot.”

 Her eyes catch his own, everything feels like it’s in slow motion now. All but his heart that has seemingly quickened its pace. He wants to pull her to the side, to hold her close to his chest so she can physically feel exactly what she does to him. She touches her neck, smiling a little wider. That same smile that absolutely captivates him. Even as she looks away, he cannot stop his own lingering stare. She looks so ridiculously happy, so pure- beautiful. 

 Jumin only realizes he was holding his breath when everyone begins applauding her speech around him. He joins, swallowing gently to bring himself back to reality. To his right is an open balcony, one that he quickly moves to catch some fresh air.

 It’s brisk outside, but it helps his body cool down faster than it would in the crowded room. He knows the best thing to do is wait and speak to her with a clear mind, urges aside. Taking a deep breath, he holds it until his lungs burn. Feeling almost ashamed of himself, disgusted with how greedy he feels tonight. He moves out of the view of the party, standing alone and gazing upon the city lights. 

 “Hey stranger.” There is a shuffling noise as the presence of another accompanies him. Jumin glances to his side, MC is looking him up and down. “It’s unlike you to leave a room like that, are you alright?”

 He is fine, in the physical sense, so he nods his head in retaliation. “Yes, I found myself getting hot and needed the fresh air. I’d like to congratulate you on the party, yet again, it was a success.”

 She places her head on her hand, sighing exhaustedly. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me. I’m so glad you think so. I have been so stressed out lately because of it. I’d also like to thank you for last week, you didn’t have to let me fall asleep, let alone take me to your guest bedroom.” She grins sheepishly, tucking her hand beneath his tie. “I’m also happy that you liked your gift, I saw it and thought about you.” Her fingers softly glide along the fabric.

Her lips are a burgundy color, he cannot help but notice as she comes closer. He wonders if she thinks the same way as him. Jumin looks into her eyes to see if he can find the answer there. Instead, she simply wraps her arms around him, swaying from left to right gently. There is no music, but she makes her own rhythm. “You should dance with me.”

 Her hand is now in his, his arm cradling her back and pulling her closer as they move in unition. He finds himself speechless, only focused on the steps she makes. He thinks of all the ways he could confess to her, forgetting just why he had never said anything in the past. Because when he sees her now it’s almost as if he had been struck by Cupid’s arrow.

 He stops moving, lips parting open as he looks down at her. He wants to speak, but the words do not come. His mind is suddenly blank. Her eyes flicker for a moment before her head comes closer, he can feel her hot breath against his skin. By instinct, he tilts his head to the side, drawing in like a magnet.

 Their lips join finally when she stands on her toes. She tastes sweet, better than even the finest of wines. He immediately pulls her closer, years of pent up feelings releasing themselves in a single kiss. His hands are traveling everywhere on her body that he has ever longed to feel. When his tongue glides against her lower lip she gasps, running a hand through his hair. He moves his lips elsewhere, peppering kissing along her gnaw and down her neck.

 Jumin speaks between breaths. “I’m tired of pretending that I don’t want you.” His voice is low as he continues, now kissing her shoulder. This only makes her blush and forcefully hold back a moan.

 Right as his lips meet the scratchy fabric of her dress, he pulls away completely. “If you feel the same way, meet me at my apartment after the party.” There’s a sincere look in his eyes as he gazes at her, he’s softer than usual. His hands adjust his coat and hair before he walks back inside, disappearing from her view.

[twooneztaylorthecat]

When Nobody's Around - Adam Stanheight / Reader

A/N. There was a clip of the song 'Better' by Khalid on TikTok, and that inspired this story. Anyway, continue.

It was dark in the area, December twenty-fourth. The wind howled loudly as it whipped through the tree branches and sent snow spraying everywhere. The air was freezing cold, and the ground was icy. Even snow boots couldn't dull the slip from anyone who tried to walk on it. It was difficult not to tense up against the chill, or even not to zip up the jacket around one's shoulders, but no matter what you did you just couldn't get warm. You kept your head bent and plowed on through the snow. The coffee in your Starbucks cup made your palms hot, but you liked it that way; you didn't like the cold anyway. Adam Stanheight was following closely behind you, along with your best friend. You guys had a mixed friendship, or so it seemed. You knew what you had with your bff, you didn't need to question it. But your relationship with Adam was quite another thing entirely, it dissatisfied you, dismayed you. Often times he'd play off his flirting to be nothing more than jokes, and it hurt you a little. His mixed signals were confusing you. You clutched your tote bag closer and sped up your speed. Getting home was your biggest priority right now; you felt so flustered being around Adam. It made your heart beat faster and your stomach swim chaotically.

In your head you knew there was something there, or at least you wished there was, but you couldn't stop yourself from feeling it. You rounded the corner very urgently. You were in the lead, Adam and your friend had been talking earlier about politics, you didn't want to discuss that. But unfortunately for you, your friend called out to you. "What's your opinion?"

You, who had not been listening, turned around slowly and looked at them dumbly. You could not remember what they had been talking about before. "I wasn't paying attention," you admitted.

"Oh, come on. I was asking-"

"-No, no," you interrupted. "Right now I have other things to worry about than what side of the political spectrum you are on. I'd like to keep our friendship strong before Christmas, then we can ruin it."

"Fine. Then at least tell me this. What side of the 'romantic relationship' are you on? You know, with..." Your bff elbowed Adam in the ribs.

Adam made a face. " 'Romantic relationship'?" He repeated skeptically. "What the fuck are you on about?"

You turned back around and started to cross the street, your heart heavy. The light, which was blurred by the snowy fog, changed red suddenly, and you were pulled back by a strong force. It wasn't like you could have saved yourself, but you did appreciate the thoughtfulness. Not to mention, there weren't any moving vehicles out right now to plow you over, so it didn't really matter. "Thanks," you mumbled, and pulled your arm out of their grasp, you expected it to be your friend.

"Hey. Where are you going?" The voice sounded right behind you. It was quiet and soothing; it sent chills up your spine; like it always did. Apparently the political conversation was over now.

"A-Adam..." you gasped. "I... wasn't expecting you to be there."

"No?" Adam pressed up against your side. "You seem cold. Mind if I warm you up?"

You gagged, feeling embarrassed, and tried to get away, but Adam held you close. "Where are you going?" He asked again.

Your best friend came up to you. "Yeah. No romantic relationship here. What's up love-birds?"

Adam released you. "Tch," he scoffed. "What are you talking about? We're just friends. Can't I care for my friends?"

You stared at him miserably. "Christmas at my house?" You asked, changing the subject.

Your friends looked at you cluelessly. "Oh sure," your bff agreed. "I won't have to rearrange any plans if we go to your house."

"You live in the same place," you muttered.

"That's the point..." your friend grimaced.

Adam had fallen behind you both while you discussed this. He seemed quiet now, and lost in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about. You wished he was talking with you again. You wished he would try snuggling again.

The discussion wasn't a long one, and it ended right as you reached the other side of the road. "So, Adam," you hummed out quietly. "You need anyone to help with baking? I know you said you would like it if someone came over tomorrow morning."

"Only one someone..." Adam winked at you, and laughed. "In all honesty, I just want the company. It gets lonely over there."

"So... No baking?"

"What would you guys be baking?" (Bff's name) asked. "Not like Adam is having anyone over. Not like he CAN. Everyone would be falling on their asses."

Adam muttered something under his breath, then spoke up, "No, you're right. I... will do the baking myself." He chuckled. "That is, if I stop taking pictures of it first."

"You're not planning on doing any baking, are you?" You realized.

"I... was? Actually."

"Pffft." Your best friend sounded dubious.

You yourself were a little doubtful too, but you had the sense to shut up about it. You blew out a breath, which made your bangs fly into the air.

"You look kinda cute when you do that," Adam commented and held your hand lightly.

You blushed, waiting for his infamous 'jk' or stupid reasoning as to why he was 'pretending to flirt' with you, but it never came. You exchanged glances with you friend, but alas Adam caught it, and let go. "I should really stop doing that, shouldn't I?"

You huffed. "I... like it..." You said inaudibly.

Adam had heard you, but he chose not to respond. He started talking about the snow instead.

Fuck, you thought.

Faulkner walked you both to your condo, and held the door open. You were the first inside, but didn't get too far. Adam called you back as your best friend stalked past you to the stairs. You fell back and leaned against him. What was going to happen now? Adam got all cozy with you when you guys were alone, and now that your friend had left, you wondered what was going to happen. "Hey, Y/N?" He looked directly into your eyes. He never flinched or gazed away, but his body language said he was nervous.

You felt obliged to ease his stress. "Yeah? Are you cold, why don't you come in for a minute and warm up?"

"No," Adam said boldly. "I... just wanted to..." He looked away finally. Your heart nearly stopped in anticipation. "Well, you see... I've been thinking about this for a while. Ever since October."

You stared at him silently, hoping he wasn't psyching you up just to joke with you again. "What is it?" You asked in irritation. "Are you playing with me again?"

"What do you mean by that?" Adam didn't seem to understand that you were referring to his 'fake flirting.' Honestly, sometimes you thought that he was completely unaware that he did it. Or maybe he simply pretended to be innocent?

"I'm not kidding around right now, I'm being serious. Here's the deal. I-I wanted Christmas at my place, if that's alright with you. I don't mind if you bring

(Bff's name,) But... Yeah."

Your stomach felt hollow after hearing that. Whatever you had been expecting was entirely not up for debate. You were simply 'friend-zoned', at least it felt like it. You thought about his words for a short moment, then stared at him questioningly. "Will your apartment be clean enough?" It was a joke, but not really. Adam was notorious for have a messy living quarters.

"Haha," Adam said sarcastically. "I cleaned it yesterday... well enough, that is..."

You nodded halfheartedly, still feeling disappointed. "Sure. I'll tell (Bff's name,) the change of plans."

"Yeah," Adam agreed.

It was awkward after that. Adam stayed in the doorway, and you kept the door open. Neither of you knew what to say after that, but you didn't have the heart to close the door and leave him there. It was so intense that you could feel heat rising to face in the cold forty degree (Fahrenheit) weather. Snow was starting to fill up the inside. "I guess you should go?" You didn't want to be rude, but asking it instead of saying it didn't help the bluntness of the sentence.

"Um..." Adam shrugged. "I was wondering something else..."

You looked at Adam in disbelief. In the fifteen minutes standing in the cold, he didn't think to bring this up? "Well, alright then. Any time would be... perfect." You noticed for the first time, how fidgety he had become. You'd never seen him like that before. Something else was on his mind, you knew him well enough to know that. "Go on," you encouraged.

"Why don't you come to my place for the night?" Adam asked unexpectedly. He got straight to the point, you liked that. He added clumsily, "Unless... Uh, you're busy... in the morning? I understand, you know. Of course I understand. Um... Y-Yeah, I just- I wanted to make sure you knew the invitation was there."

You smiled shyly. Having Adam stumbled over his words was a little bit cute. And then you realized what he had actually asked you. Wait a minute!? This couldn't be real! Stay the night with Adam Faulkner Stanheight!? Who could turn THAT down? Not Y/N. Definitely not Y/N. "Okay," you agreed politely, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You ran your hands over your clothes quickly, trying to smooth them out. But Adam didn't care about the wrinkles in your shirt, he just wanted you with him. He pulled you outside again, the chill biting you immediately. You huddled up next to him, trying to get warm.

Maybe this time it would be different? Maybe he'd snuggle with you?

But Adam was not as observant to his surroundings. He led you to his car, which was parked beside the road.

"What's with the car, Adam? We live close enough, you know," you joked.

Your companion only scowled at you as he snapped, "I was at a client's house when you called. And I decided not to leave the car here on the way home."

You sat down in the passenger's seat happily. Adam, of course, took the driver's seat, and as he started up the car the radio blasted you guys unexpectedly, hollowing out each one of your ears. Instead of turning it off, Adam just turned it down. He seemed much more laid back now that it was just the two of you.

In the silence, however, you were able to pick up what song was currently playing. It was Better by Khalid, and this surprised you. You didn't usually listen to this artist very much, but the radio seemed to love playing this song in particular. You hadn't been expecting it to come on while you were in Adam's car though.

Due to the quietness you could hear the words now. You'd never really listened to them before, but now that you could hear them, you felt suspicious.

"Say we're just friends, but I swear, when nobody's around. You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now?-"

Adam rolled down a window suddenly, cutting off the next part.

You raised an eyebrow, thinking to yourself. Why the hell am I relating to this song so much? No wait, an even better question is, why would it come on the radio when I'm in the car with Adam? It doesn't add up right.

Almost instinctually, you asked, "D-Did you do this on purpose?" You hadn't meant to blurt it out. In fact you usually were pretty good about thinking about what you were going to say or do before actually performing it. This was a rare scenario.

Humiliation engulfed you as soon as the words left your mouth. You rolled your window down hurriedly, trying to act like you hadn't spoken. It was all for naught.

"What?" Adam asked dully.

"I-uh..." you stammered for a minute, then quickly regained yourself. "Yeah. I was just wondering if you chose the song, or if it was the radio?"

"Why would I have chosen it?" Adam sounded confused. "There would be no reason for me to choose it."

"oh... You're right..." You stared out the window and let the wind blow into your face. It was cold but you didn't say it out loud. You did wonder though, how Stanheight managed to live through it. It was so cold it felt like it was burning your skin off. You closed the window again.

Adam pulled to a stop in front of his apartment. "Don't mind the neighbors," he warned. "They don't like newcomers."

"I know. We've had this discussion before."

"I know," Adam said regretfully. "But... I just... like to remind you."

As you both shuffled into Adam's apartment, you gazed at the floor. He told you he'd cleaned up yesterday, and it showed. The normal empty boxes, or bits of laundry, had been taken care of, as well as the large stacks of photographs laying around the place. Adam was nothing if not passionate about his job, and that made you happy. It still amazed you to be able to see the wooden floor beneath your feet, and you desperately tried not to notice the counter, on top of which was an ashtray, which was piled with cigarette ends. The scent of cigarette smoke was thick, definitely fresh, but... you didn't mind it really.

Well, that was a lie. You did mind it, a lot. But that was the thing, that smell reminded you of Adam, so... you didn't mind it THAT much. Come to think of it, having the scent of smoke remind you of someone was probably not a good thing. Not for you or Adam. In fact, Adam probably had it worse. Imagine hearing someone say that the scent of smoke reminded them of you. That didn't seem like a positive thing to hear.

You shuddered at the thought.

"Come sit down over here," Adam said from the couch. "Sorry about the... Everything... I did try to keep the windows open but... it was way too damn cold. And I guess I couldn't stop... If you know what I mean?"

You did. You could understand completely.

Gently, you sat next to Adam, crossing your legs over each other delicately. It was warm in here, or was it Adam's body heat? You were sitting so close to him it was hard to tell. "I'm glad you came over," he said nervously. "You know... It's kinda stupid, but I only said I wanted your help with baking 'cause I didn't know how to invite you."

You smiled at him. "That's sweet. I would have done the same thing," you reassured Adam.

Adam slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. In a low tone, he said, "I didn't get you anything for Christmas. I'm sorry, I... Well, I mostly didn't know what kind of things you liked and didn't like."

"It's okay," you said. "I wasn't planning on having Christmas here until my parents' flight got canceled."

"So, you didn't get me anything either?" Adam's voice held some relief.

"Well, no," you tried to disappoint gently. You knew how it felt when you realized you weren't the only one who had done something a certain way. It was very reassuring. Maybe a bit too reassuring. You didn't want to crush his bubble so violently, but there wasn't any way to say it softly. At least, not one that came to mind. "I actually did think of something."

"Oh?" Adam didn't seem bothered, that was good. "What is it?"

You scoffed. "Like I'd tell you. You have to wait."

You had baked everyone some cookies this morning. That's what you were going to give your friends for Christmas. It was the first thing that came to your mind last second.

Adam leaned away from you hesitantly. "Well, there might be something that I thought of, too, but... I don't know... I guess I got scared..." He glanced at a nearby clock, and shrugged. "Is one fifteen AM close enough to Christmas?"

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I'd say, at least six AM."

"Fuck that," Adam exclaimed. "I... don't think I can wait any longer." He laughed nervously. It lasted for so long that you started to wonder if you had missed the joke.

"I'm sorry," you sighed. "I don't think... I follow."

Adam stared at the floor. "No, I'm sorry, that was unnecessary. I just got... scared?"

You narrowed your eyebrows sympathetically. "What is it, Adam?"

"Well... Will you be my significant other? The time we spend together means a lot, not to mention I enjoy your company a lot, too. Our dates have been nice... I know I should have asked you long ago, but... I don't know... I couldn't get up the courage..."

You smiled, but it was only out of uncomfortableness rather than actual happiness. You had no idea if he was playing with you or being honest with you. "Uh... Heh. You're joking, aren't you?"

"No," Adam gasped. He looked flabbergasted. "Why... What makes you ask that? I wouldn't joke about something like this."

Oh, right, you thought dryly. Just everything else about our relationship.

Out loud you said quickly, "Nothing." You regretted doubting yourself. It just made this situation very embarrassing. You felt the need to clarify your answer now. You didn't want to leave Adam hanging after such a significant question. "Well, Adam. The answer to your question is yes! I thought you were never gonna ask me. Well, actually, I thought you were bullshitting me the entire time."

"I didn't go about it the right way," Adam admitted. "That's my fault." He pulled you down so that your head was on his lap, and started to comb his fingers through your hair. "Merry Christmas, Y/N," he murmured. "That's my gift to you."

You inhaled deeply, feeling a strong wave of affection flood you. You had no idea anyone could feel so much emotion at once. It awed you. Gazing at the ceiling you felt your heart swell up. It beat in your chest heavily, loudly, nervously, but you felt soothed at the same time. And in this exact moment, you had good feelings. Maybe it was too soon to tell, however something in your gut told you that you were going to have a long, successful, future with Adam. "Wow," you hummed out quietly. "Christmas is going to be a hell-of-a-lot different this year." Adam didn't stop brushing your hair. You yawned and smiled. "But I can't wait for it."

[even-after-a-millennia]

to drown and delight in his eyes

Aka 5 times that Joe drew Nicky through history and one time that Nile did too.  This fic is for @hottopicmonk for the 2020 Old Guard Gift Exchange @theoldguardevents hosted! Some of the topics they were interested in were kaysanova, found family, Joe and Nile being art bff’s, history, romance, and fluff.  This has got all that and more!  Happy Holidays!

You can read it below or over on my ao3 here.

There was a man in Yusuf’s dreams.  

Unfortunately, he existed in real life as well.  Yusuf realized this on the battlefield, as he met the man’s multi-hued eyes, narrowed with concentration and hatred.  Before that moment, Yusuf had appreciated those eyes, odd as they may be.  

Now, he wanted to make them close forever.

Fate had other plans.

Yusuf gasped back to life, coughing as he scrabbled at his stomach, trying to find a trace of the stab that had killed him.

There was nothing.  Blood on his clothes and tears in the fabric, but his skin was unblemished.

He heard a gasp a few feet away and swung around to see the man with the eyes the color of a torrential ocean come to life as well.  He clutched at his throat, trying to find his wound.  But it wasn’t there.

Their eyes met.

The man opened his mouth, perhaps to speak.  Yusuf sprang forward, shoving his knife into the man’s chest.

“Stay dead this time,” Yusuf snarled at him, watching as his eyes stopped seeing.

He staggered away from the man, reunited with his fellow defenders.

Those eyes wouldn’t leave his head.

Yusuf saw them again and again as they continued to find each other on the battlefield.  They fought, they died, they came back.

And still, those eyes haunted him.  

He tried to sleep less, to avoid dreaming of them.  But then he tossed and turned, seeing them in his mind’s eye.  Finally, he gave up and reached for his pack and pulled out his charcoal and a piece of parchment.  He didn’t have any pigment, but maybe if he could just put the details of the man’s eyes on paper, he would finally be able to forget.

The paper was filled with the man’s eyes, the wide-eyed look from when Yusuf managed to slice open his neck, the glare of concentration as he fought, the closed, peaceful expression he wore before gasping to life again.

The sun rose and Yusuf threw the sketches into a nearby fire, watching as the paper caught and blazed.

He was no closer to forgetting the man or his eyes.

______________________________

Yusuf was tired of fighting.  Tired of all the blood.  All the death.  He and the man killed each other once more, only to wake together at the base of the crumbled wall of the city Yusuf had been trying to protect. Staring at the smoke filling the sky, Yusuf heaved a sigh.  He was so tired.

He turned his head as he lay there, his body still knitting itself back together, and made eye contact with the man in his dreams.  His eyes weren’t filled with hatred at the moment.

Yusuf saw the same bone weariness that echoed within his body in the man’s eyes.

Heaving himself to his feet, even though his body wasn’t fully healed, Yusuf turned to the man, who stared up at him.  He didn’t make any effort to protect himself from an attack.  Just looked at him steadily, those eyes fixated on Yusuf’s face.

Yusuf held out his hand to the man to help him up.  He was almost surprised when he took it.

Together, they walked away from the battlefield.  They had been traveling together ever since.

The man - Nicolò, he had said - was a quiet, introspective man Yusuf found.  There would be days that they barely spoke, just passed the water skin between each other and gestured what direction they should go and when they should stop for the night.

That changed after they were attacked.

While he and Nicolò were on foot, their adversaries were on horseback.  They galloped towards the two of them, who quickly pulled out their swords and stood back to back.  In a moment, they were surrounded.  Yusuf saw the red crosses on the men’s chests and tensed.

They yelled something and Nicolò responded.  Yusuf understood about two words a sentence, they were speaking so quickly.  The men were asking Nicolò what he was doing with a- well, with Yusuf.  Nicolò said a word that might have been “guide” but Yusuf wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that one of the men raised his crossbow and shot him directly in the chest.

He heard Nicolò scream his name as he fell, already dying.

When he gasped to life, the men around them were dead.  Nicolò was bent over him, anguish in those kaleidoscope eyes.

“Are you well?” Yusuf asked as soon as he got his breath back.

Nicolò’s mouth twisted and his eyes dropped.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “Just a few scratches.”

“On the bright side,” Yusuf said, looking around at the carnage, “we now have horses.”

“Santa Maria, Madre de Dios, save me from optimists who find positives after dying,” Nicolò muttered, getting to his feet.

“We die frequently, Nicolò.  If I didn’t find positives during these moments, I fear I would have gone mad long ago.”

“What positives were there to be found on the battlefield?  Awakening amongst all those bodies?” Nicolò demanded, rounding on him.

“Not many,” Yusuf admitted, getting to his feet.  Grinning at Nicolò, he teased, “At the time, I thought getting another chance to kill you was a positive.”

Nicolò stared at him a moment, disbelieving.  Then he snorted, a smile gracing his face for the first time.  It was small but it was there and Yusuf was momentarily dumbstruck.

“And now?” Nicolò asked, sobering.

Yusuf stared at the man with whom he had created a tentative alliance.

“Now, I think I would rather cut off my hand than raise it against you,” he said plainly.

Nicolò’s eyes widened.  Surrounded by the bodies he had killed for hurting Yusuf, he nodded.

“We should go.”

They made good headway that day, seeing as they were no longer on foot.  Once they called a halt and set up a tentative camp, Nicolò mentioned seeing a stream nearby.

“I should get some of this blood off of me,” he said, staring at his hands.

Yusuf was thrown when he came back clean shaven.  In the time of knowing Nicolò, he had been… well… disheveled.  Unkempt.  Kind of disgusting.

This Nicolò was a different man altogether.

Yusuf was glad he had the excuse of washing himself as well to get away from this new version of his traveling companion.

Once he was clean and back at camp, Yusuf elected to take first watch.  Nicolò nodded, silent once again, and curled up by their small fire, facing Yusuf.

Cocooned in the quiet, Yusuf found he couldn’t stop thinking about Nicolò’s look after his admission earlier.

It was the truth, he couldn’t deny it.  In the time they had been traveling together, Yusuf had noticed a change in his travel companion.  Before that even.  On the battlefield, they had fought, but the look in Nicolò’s eyes had changed as time went on.  He had seemed angry, but Yusuf didn’t know where the anger was directed.  At the situation?  At Yusuf? 

At himself?

Since they had left the fighting, Yusuf had seen signs that the latter was the truth.  Yusuf prayed every morning, whether he had been on watch at the time or not.  Nicolò looked away as he did so, but never disturbed him.  Nicolò stopped walking throughout the day, as it came to the next time to pray, to the point that Yusuf didn’t have to ask to stop after the first few days.  

Yusuf saw him praying as well, quietly folding his hands as he knelt.  He, too, looked away.  

Then today, there was a look of anguish in his eyes as Yusuf came alive.

Yes, his companion was changing.  But so was Yusuf as he admitted that, should the situation be reversed and Nicolò had been the one killed instead, Yusuf would not have hesitated to attack those who had hurt him.  They were no longer adversaries, but something else.

He just didn’t know what exactly he would call them now.

Shaking himself, he got out a piece of charcoal and paper to distract himself from his thoughts.  Only, his gaze fell on his sleeping companion and he couldn’t stop himself from starting to sketch him.  The lack of tension in his face was better than when he was dead.  He was relaxed, not lifeless.  Yusuf found he far preferred this.

A branch in the fire snapped and Nicolò’s eyes flew open. Their eyes met.

Yusuf felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as he sat there, stunned at the concern and care he saw in Nicolò’s gaze.

“Apologies,” Nicolò muttered, shifting and breaking eye contact.  “I thought I heard something and had to ensure you were safe.”

Yusuf filled his lungs only to let out a shaky breath.  “I am well.  Thank you,” he said, clutching the paper in his hand.

Nicolò nodded at him, then closed his eyes once more.

This time, Yusuf didn’t feed the papers he filled with drawings of Nicolò to the fire.

_____________________________________

Nicolò’s hair was mussed from where Yusuf’s finger had been running through it.  Yusuf revelled in the fact that he could touch Nicolò like that.  This new stage of their relationship was so new that every kiss felt like a revelation.

Yusuf kissed Nicolò’s lips one more time, then pulled away to look at him.

“Let me draw you,” he blurted, unable to keep the request to himself.

“Now?” Nicolò said, eyes wide.  He reached up to fix his hair, but Yusuf batted his hand away.

“Yes, exactly how you are.  I’ve drawn you so many ways before, Nicolò, but never like this.”

Nicolò paused, staring up at him.  “You’ve drawn me?  When?  How many times?”

Yusuf paused, wondering if he wanted to answer that fully.  He sighed, hanging his head.  “Many times, starting shortly after our first time fighting.  It’s your eyes,” he said, looking up and staring into them.  He reached up and caressed Nicolò’s cheek.  “They captivated me.  I could not get them out of my mind.”

“Even as I-” Nicolò said, but stopped, unable to list the number of offenses he had done against Yusuf and his homeland.

“Yes, Nicolò, even then.  And after.  I thought I would run into a tree the first time I saw you clean shaven and well, clean, I was so distracted.  Finally, the rest of your countenance matched those eyes.”

Nicolò narrowed his eyes at Yusuf.  “I don’t know if I should be offended for my former self or take that as a compliment.”

Yusuf laughed.  “You were very dirty before, in my defense.”

“Granted.”

“So may I?” Yusuf asked.

“What do I do?” Nicolò asked, looking uncertain.

“You don’t have to do anything at all, just sit there.  Give me one moment.”  Yusuf hurried to his pack and retrieved his art supplies.  

He turned back to where he had left Nicolò and was struck once again by the man in front of him.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

Nicolò ducked his head, a blush rising in his cheeks.

“Nicolò…” Yusuf had to kiss him.  Just once more before he started to draw him. 

“Okay, okay.  Just sit there, okay?  You can talk and breathe and all that, just try not to move too much.”

“So glad that I have your permission to breathe,” Nicolò said with a completely straight face.

Yusuf snorted, then got to work.

He couldn’t wait to draw Nicolò in all the different situations that they would come across in life.

__________________________________

When he made that optimistic, loving thought, Yusuf didn’t have a full grasp at just how devastating some of the situations they would find themselves in would be.

He didn’t know Andromache the Scythian when he had thought that.  He didn't know Quynh. He didn’t count them as sisters and fellow warriors.  He didn’t see their love for each other and for him and Nicolò and for the world.

He hadn’t yet seen the devastation from the loss of Quynh on Andromache’s face.  Hadn’t seen Nicolò’s face go cold and distant as he was told what had happened.

Yusuf hadn’t felt the agony of losing his immortal sister to the waves.

Now that he had, he could barely pick up his art supplies.  Still, he wanted that mindlessness that came with being immersed in a drawing, when his mind was so focused on the art in front of him it forgot the world around him.  He put charcoal to paper and line after line, tried to capture Nicolò’s face.  But the longer he drew, the more he realized.

It wasn’t Nicolò’s face staring back at him on the paper.

It was Quynh’s.

With a shout of rage and desolation, he swept his drawing supplies off his meager desk.

He felt Nicolò’s hand on his shoulder and almost didn’t turn to himself toward his love.  But in the end, he collapsed into his arms and felt as Nicolò gave into his anguish as well.

They held each other as they fell apart.  

________________________________________

Nicky was reclined in a cloth chair on one of Malta’s beaches, sunhat saving his complexion from the sun’s rays.  Though any sunburn would heal, it would soon be back, starting a vicious cycle that the hat helped avoid.  He was relaxed into the seat, eyes closed as he lounged.

Joe was having a hard time keeping his eyes off his husband.  His everything.

It was their fifth day in Malta and the first that they had made it out of their small but cozy house.  Joe knew part of the reason Nicky was so relaxed, and had to redirect his thoughts before they betrayed him.

Nicky’s eyes squinted open and glanced at Joe before he sighed and handed him the bag they had packed for the beach.  In it, they had some food, water, sunscreen, and Joe’s drawing supplies.

“Grazie, ya amar,” Joe said cheekily, reaching for his sketchbook and pencils.

“Prego,” Nicky murmured back, eyes once again closed.

Joe began to sketch Nicky’s relaxed pose, being sure to include the hat and the slight redness that was present on his nose anyways.  If Nicky didn’t look so comfortable, he would mourn the fact that he couldn’t render his eyes to paper.  

As if hearing his thoughts, Nicky’s eyes opened and looked over at him without moving his head.  Joe was lucky that Nicky had a sniper’s patience, to sit and not move for long periods of time.  Throughout the ages, he had become quite a competent model.

“You’re beautiful,” Joe breathed, taking in the man who had become his everything.

Nicky flushed, just as he did every time Joe said those words so reverently.

“Would you like to swim with me, my love?” Nicky asked.

“Two more minutes and then absolutely,” Joe said, hurrying his hand.

“Take your time,” Nicky replied readily and it was good that he did, because his eyes stayed open, staring at Joe.  Joe couldn’t miss this opportunity to put those gorgeous eyes on paper.  It had taken him many, many years to perfect the pigments necessary to perfectly render them into his art.  

Now, he could draw Nicky sightless.  But the experience of drawing Nicky never felt invariable.  Even though it was such a normal experience that Joe’s art supplies were packed amongst food and water, Joe himself never felt unaffected by the trust and patience Nicky showed each time.

Much longer than two minutes later, he nodded his head.  “Alright.  Swim?” he asked.

“May I see?” Nicky asked, holding out a hand.

No matter how many centuries of practice, Joe had to say each time he shared a piece of his art, “It’s not perfect, there were a few places I wasn’t happy with-”

“Yusuf?” Nicky said, not looking at him, just staring down at his drawn face.

“It will never stop astonishing me, the way that you see me.  There is love in every stroke of your pencil.  Therefore, every drawing of me that you create is perfect,” Nicky stated, looking him in the eye to press his point.

Joe let loose a breath, unable to look away from his love.

Not breaking eye contact, Nicky closed the sketchbook and placed it to the side, then stood.  He pulled Joe into his arms, running his nose against the curls of his beard that graced his jaw.  

“Potrei fissare i tuoi bellissimi occhi in eterno. Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno,” Nicky murmured.  I can gaze into your beautiful eyes forever.  I could watch you all day.

He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Joe’s.

“You may love my eyes,” Nicky said softly, “but yours captivate me as well.  Not just their beauty, but how they see the world.”

“Nicolò, ya hayati, baciami per favore,” Joe breathed.

Nicky obliged, hands cupping Joe's jaw as he pulled him into another kiss.  When they broke apart, they didn’t go far, just rested their foreheads together.  Those beautiful eyes were right there, and Joe found himself getting lost in them.

“Swim?” Nicky asked after a while.

“Sunscreen first,” Joe said, pulling himself together.  

He grinned.  “I’ll get your back.”

_______________________________________

Nicky was reading on the chair, so of course, Joe was drawing him from over on the couch.

Nile plopped down next to Joe with her own sketchbook.

“Do you mind if I join?” she asked, holding up her own art supplies.

“Please!  Nicky deserves to be put to paper as often as possible.  I would never claim that honor solely to myself.”

Nicky smiled at him from over his book, then went back to reading.  The whole time, he didn’t move his pose.

Truly a great model.  Joe was so lucky.

“Awesome!  It’s been forever since I’ve been able to do still life drawings.  Jay used to pose for me sometimes in our downtime, but we could never do it too often.  Thanks, Nicky!” Nile called.

“My pleasure,” he said, his eyes twinkling at her from behind his book.

Once Nile got started, they fell into silence, each concentrating on their own task.  Nicky turned the pages with his thumbs, so as to not disturb his pose.  It was a move, Joe knew, he had perfected for especially these situations.

“Ugh, I just can’t get his nose right,” Nile said suddenly.

Joe glanced over at her work and did a double take.  He had known that she was an artist, she had told the group how she had wanted to go to art school after her tour, but he hadn’t seen any of her artwork yet.

Her style of drawing was different from the way that Joe drew Nicky, there was no denying it, but she had captured the concentration in his brow, the strength in his shoulders.

There was also a massive erased space where his nose should be.

“I would make a Tangled joke, but I know you guys wouldn’t get it,” she said, pouting slightly.

“Lol,” Nicky said, straight faced.

“Oh my God,” Nile said, rubbing her forehead.

“It took me many years to be able to render Nicky’s profile as well as you have here.  Well done, Nile!  May I show you how to portray his nose?” Joe said, smiling at her. 

“Sure,” she said, leaning on his shoulder to get a good look at his paper.  “Whoa, Joe,” she breathed when she saw the sketches on the page.  “These are incredible.”

“Years of practice,” Joe said, throwing a wink Nicky’s way.  “Okay, so for his nose…”

They continued to draw as the day passed by.  Nile sometimes hummed a song without seeming to realize she was doing so, Joe and Nicky sharing fond smiles.  The fact that she was comfortable enough to draw with Joe, let alone lose herself in it enough to absentmindedly hum, made Joe’s chest warm with affection for his new immortal sister.

He sensed Andy before he saw her.  She emerged from the patio where she had been sitting as the day progressed and was staring at the scene in front of her.  He could see the smile in her eyes, even though it didn’t grace her lips.

“Here, you two, I’ll give you a real pose to draw,” she said, before she flung herself horizontally on top of Nicky, who scrambled to save his book and cursed her affectionately in three languages.

Nile’s laughter rang through the room and Joe didn’t want to stop himself from joining her.  

Andy grinned from her sprawled position on top of Nicky, who looked resigned to his fate.

Joe switched over to a new piece of paper and saw Nile doing the same.  Sharing a smile, they turned back to their little immortal family and began to put them to paper.

Joe made sure to emphasize the look of long-suffering love in Nicky’s eyes as Andy began to snore on top of him.

He did always love to draw Nicky’s eyes, after all.

[sometimesiwrite]

Hooked on a Feeling

The Witcher: Modern Academia AU

Essi/Eskel

A/N: Inspired by this lovely art piece and my general ongoing obsession with Lit Prof Eskel, I bring you this—whatever this is. It came about largely because I want to explore Essi more thoroughly through different pairings, various different planes of existence, etc. The best way for me to think about and develop a character is to put them in with other characters and see what happens. This may or may not become a series, this also might stay where it is. I chose a modern AU because I wanted a challenge. I believe characters change with context, and this has been an interesting time spent with Eskel in this context as well. I’m not sure how I feel about him in this universe (aside from the love and affection I will likely always feel for that man); more specifically, I’m not sure I’ve done him justice, but I suppose I’ll let you decide for yourself. Feedback is usually helpful and always welcome. Cheers, friends! 

Warnings: bit o’ smut, age gap, academic power structures, dialogue-heavy

MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

Strong hands held her steady, warm and luxurious through the cotton-poly-spandex of her skirt as it bunched around the tops of her thighs. A breathless roll of her hips left a spot blooming slippery dark on the red cotton of his boxer briefs, and a hungry moan escaped his throat as he explored the tender flesh and tendons of her neck. Papers crumpled under foot, previously housed on top of the desk, but now relegated to excess carpeting. Roget’s Thesaurus, Crabb’s English Synonyms, Shakespeare’s Lexicon, and other reference materials splayed open helplessly on the office floor as he toed off his shoes and sloughed off his pants. 

She clutched him to her, feeling the shift and flex of his torso beneath her hands as she pressed her right cheek to his. She was overwhelmed with the urge to be closer, to know better, dig deeper into the possibilities of what they could mean to each other. But she could also feel the hesitation lingering between his fingers and her skin like a mirage over hot pavement, and the desire to ease and reassure took over. “You’re holding back,” she whispered, pausing their fervor. “Is this not what you wanted?”  

Her hot breath against his ear sent a rushing tingle down his spine that made him falter, ever-so-briefly, before he regained his composure. He was breathing heavy against her, hair a mess, glasses askew, every muscle in his body quivering as he stood; caught between following the raw satisfaction of impulse, and listening to the unwelcome logic echoing loudly in his head that this was a bad idea. “No, no, believe me, this is very much what I want. I just—I need to make sure tha-ha-ha-haaaaa,” no one, not even him, got to know the end of that sentence as her palm dragged along the bulge in his briefs.

She blinked at him with certainty, pale cheeks blushing from her own boldness. But she wanted him to know that he was wanted: his mind, his body, his whatever-else-he-chose-to-give-her. Slender fingers nimbly worked the pearly buttons on his dress shirt. “You need to make sure that I don’t feel coerced by the difference in our ages or your institutional status.” She ran her hands over the crisp white cotton of his undershirt and smirked, “or your strength.” 

Gods the way she talked sometimes, like her fucking soul belonged somewhere else, the way she just spoke words and meant them like it was the easiest thing in the world to be straightforward. It felt… safe. He could drift in the current of her transparency and never question whether she was holding something back or saying something merely for the sake of placating his insecurity. This woman had no subtext. It was liberating and, if he was perfectly honest, acutely arousing. 

“Yes, of course I want to make sure,” he ran a hand through her hair, smelling sea salt and verbena. “And I want to make sure that you…”

She took his face in her hands and washed his honey-hazel eyes in her startling sea-glass-blue, “I want you.”

__________

Not even a third of the way through the semester, and Essi had already given up on the idea of making coffee and having a “pleasant wakeup” at home before class. It took no less time to roll out of bed and walk all the way to the cafeteria, but at least there was always a blueberry danish for her trouble, and the walk ensured she wouldn’t be tempted back into the warm bundle of blankets on her bed. She blinked heavily and shivered a little, her eyes still bleary from not-enough-sleep. She gripped her contigo travel mug and tried to remember the first two chapters of Gadamer that she’d half-read the night before (earlier that morning) as her eyes drifted closed.

...can I get for you?

Good morning… Miss?

The man in front of her gave a wry smile to the cashier, “Almost seems a shame to wake her up.” He gingerly reached out and nudged Essi’s elbow. She startled and her eyes—her two spectacularly blue eyes—blinked open. “Sorry,” the man said with an endeared smile, “You, uh… you alright?”

Essi blinked herself alert as a piece of strawberry blonde hair escaped a silver clip at the back of her head. She brushed the loose piece back behind her ear. “Yes. Sorry, just… uh, house blend in this, please. Double-double. And a blueberry danish.” She paid the cashier and stepped to the side to wait for her order. The man in front of her, she assumed, was also waiting on his. He leaned to the side, still facing forward.

“Long night?” he asked, clearly still mildly amused by the situation.

She conducted a surreptitious survey of her chatty companion, “You could say that. Philosophy reading got away from me this week.” A keycard was clipped to his breast pocket: Dept. English, E. L. Varga, Ph.D. The lack of photo indicated it was at least a year old if not more—photo IDs had only just become mandatory with the rapid growth of the campus and certain programs. She reckoned he was maybe 37-ish, from the way his hazel eye crinkled a little at the corner and the few bright silver streaks in his dark auburn hair. He looked… distinguished, but without the stiffness of someone whose entire adult life had been fully committed to academia. Post-doc? Assistant Professor?

“Full day ahead?” Essi couldn’t help but think the world of radio was missing a key contributor, his voice was so striking—deep and rich, but without being flashy, an unassuming timbre that came from somewhere deep within and carried a vulnerability with it. 

“Oh, a little. Philosophy seminar followed by Contemporary Poetry this afternoon.”

“Two on a Friday. That’s a bit unkind.” 

“I like them both and the professors are very engaging, it’s just, well…”

“Abrupt end to the week.” 

“Yes exactly…” This unexpected morning companion was an excellent conversationalist. So much so that Essi hardly noticed she’d only seen the left half of him the entire time they’d been standing in line. She didn’t have much time to ponder on it, though, as her travel mug appeared at the same time as Dr. Varga’s order (a coffee and a cream cheese bagel). She glanced at the time and hastily lidded her thermos, hoping to get a bit more reading done before class began. 

“Oh look, we have the same one!” she said, pointing to the turquoise blue, double-walled, spill-proof (as if) container as she tightened the seal on her own. “Funny coincidence.”

“Or maybe,” he offered suspensefully, tucking his bagel into his shoulder bag and lidding his own, “it’s not.” 

Essi offered a sleepy chuckle, “Divine intervention in the form of coffee?”

“You’re the philosopher,” he smiled warmly, and moved to face her fully but stopped himself, instead opting to stare at his hand where it rested on the lid of his thermos. His left eye caught Essi’s inquisitive head tilt as he cleared his throat, “Have a good day.” He pursed his lips in a halfhearted smile and turned away. No doubt he has places to be, she concluded. But a small part of her couldn’t get over his sudden shift. He’d gone from being so open, so warm and charming to being—well, distant. 

Essi’s musings about the mysterious E. L. Varga, Ph.D. were quickly dissolved by her professor’s introduction to Hermeneutics followed by a lively discussion about the nature and qualities of knowing. At the halfway point, the class dispersed for a ten minute break as they all stretched their legs and went to the bathroom. Essi gambled that her coffee would have cooled down to a drinkable temperature, and took a sip. What the—? 

“Oh, damnit!”

“Hm? What’s the matter?” Julian asked, through a mouthful of pita and hummus. 

“This isn’t mine,” she said, half-befuddled, half amused. 

“How do you know they didn’t just get the order wrong? You’re telling me you took a stranger's coffee thermos which just happens  to be identical to your own?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Essi stated with certainty, staring into the middle distance. “I should find him after class and give it back.”

“Well, unless you can see through walls now, you’ll need to track down his office. Which,” Julian took another sizeable bite of pita, “I doubt you’ll be able to do without knowing his name, so I say just leave it and—“

“E. L. Varga, Ph. D., English department.”

Julian stared at his cousin, “You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that?” 

________

Essi combed the halls of the English department after her seminar. Several times, she thought about going to the admin office to ask (it was the logical thing to do), but she felt suddenly shy about looking for him. Perhaps Julian was right, perhaps this was more trouble than it was worth. Her head was spinning with questions about whether she was imposing or perhaps impinging on his boundaries, disrespecting his privacy. Perhaps she should just leave the thermos with the Admin office and trust that it would get to him. She could just buy a new one for herself, no problem there. But then a part of her wanted to see him again, make a good impression. He intrigued her, and the small taste of conversation he’d given her that morning made her want to talk with him more about anything at all, no matter how trivial. 

She wasn’t infatuated. Rather he’d made an impression, and something about him—the way he carried himself, presented his thoughts, his general affect—drew her to him in a way she couldn’t explain. Suddenly he mattered, and she was trawling the seemingly-endless network of almost-identical hallways in the hopes of returning what was his, and retrieving what was hers. She finally found the right office, impossibly small, and tucked away at the far end of a cul-de-sac. She knocked quietly. 

“Come in?”

 E. L. Varga, Ph.D. had his back to the door, ankles crossed on a corner of his desk with a stack of papers in his lap. “Just.. one second,” he finished underlining a scrawled turquoise notation in the margin and spun around to face the door, setting his papers down as he turned. “Yes, what can I do for—” he froze, coming face-to-face with dazzling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair pulled up in a silver clip. “Ah.” 

Essi tried hard to avoid the look of shock that rippled across her face and made her big blue eyes even bigger. Three jagged scars trailed angrily from the corner of his eye and past his mouth, coming to a final stop on the side of his chin. He cleared his throat and gave the same wry smile he’d parted with earlier that morning, adjusting his rectangular, wire-rimmed glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“I imagine you’ve come for this,” he said, placing Essi’s thermos on the edge of the table. 

“I—yes, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and, well,” she fished his out from her bag, “here.” She handed it to him and he accepted with a lighthearted raise of his eyebrows. She paused for a moment, meeting his eyes intensely. There was a sadness behind them that made her want to stay, made her want to ask questions, find out the source of his pain and eradicate it. Instead she smiled a little more stiffly than she meant to and lingered in the doorway. 

E. L. Varga scratched at the lines in his cheek, “Was there, uh… something else?”

Essi shook her head pleasantly, “No. I suppose I’ll go now.”

Another pause, “Alright. Well. Enjoy your weeke—.”

“Why do you mark in blue?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dr. Varga blinked, nonplused. 

“When I came in, before you turned around, I saw you leaving a comment on someone’s paper. I assume you were marking?” (he nodded), “You use turquoise. Most professors use red.”

He huffed a small laugh, spinning his marking pen in its cap, “I prefer to use a colour that’s a little less foreboding. It’s still bright and easy to notice, but it doesn’t mean instant panic for those students who, like me, have a Pavlovian panic response to red ink. That and red is my favourite colour, so the last thing I want is to associate it with constructive criticism and a never-ending trail of ‘see me’s.”

“That’s very generous of you. Most professors don’t think about it that hard.”

“The extent to which many professors don’t think is shocking, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m glad for your students. They have a thoughtful instructor.” 

Dr. Varga smiled warmly and removed his glasses, “Thank you. Was there something else?” 

“You hid from me this morning,” Essi answered calmly, not knowing how else to bring up something like that—clumsily had been the only other option. 

He answered slowly, “Yes. I did.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

There was a pause as Dr. Varga tried to wrap his head around what exactly was happening. Part of him was feeling exposed and a little too noticed for his own comfort. Another part of him, however, found this straightforwardness refreshing. Most people pretended to ignore the massive scars on the side of his face—which he always thought was a bit ridiculous and usually led to more awkwardness than if they just stared like he knew they wanted to. It wasn’t that she was staring, either, or asking unwelcome questions, but she wasn’t avoiding acknowledging the obvious. He liked that, he decided, even if it did make him feel a bit raw. 

“It depends how you define ‘need’, doesn’t it?”

His averted glance was all Essi needed to realize it wasn’t her he had been trying to spare somehow; rather, he was trying to spare himself from her unpredictable reaction at 8:30 in the morning. A wave of sadness crested inside her at the thought of this warm and charismatic man having to strategically orient his face because he didn’t want a pleasant conversation suddenly filled with maneuvering and overcompensation. He’d just wanted a normal moment of small-talk to start his morning.

“I’m sorry,” Essi said. “Navigating others’ reactions must be exhausting. You deserve better.” 

E. L. Varga shrugged and steered the subject to something a little less eat-pray-love. “Unexpected things surprise us. Like you, finding my secret gremlin office for the sake of two identical thermoses we could just as easily have dumped out and used as our own.”

“But I would have known it wasn’t mine,” Essi answered with an overly-earnest, wide-eyed expression.

He leaned back in his chair, hands folded contemplatively in his lap, ”Would that bother you?”

“Some of the colour has worn off the bottom rim on yours, probably from swirling it on your desk while you think. Whereas mine has a shallow dent in the side from when I dropped it last semester on my way to the library. Yours got the way it did because of you, just like mine did because of me. They both have stories connected to them. I can’t walk around carrying my coffee in someone else’s story. It wouldn’t feel right.” 

Dr. Varga tilted his head, considering this shrewd young woman with seemingly no filter and unnecessary depth. It was a coffee thermos, for Christ’s sake. But she was genuine, poetic, and her eyes were the most alluring shade of blue he’d ever seen.

“Well,” he tapped his pen, “thank you for bringing it back to me safe and sound. Yours should still be drinkable if you unscrew the top. I only took one sip, but in case you’re afraid of cooties…”

“Same with yours, I’ll probably just rinse mine or…” she trailed off, realizing that saying ‘leave it’ would sound a bit strange. “So, Dr. E. L. Varga. Was it a coincidence after all?” Essi asked, a small enigmatic smile pulling at her lips. 

“Eskel,” He said. “My name is Eskel.”

“Essi Daven. Until next time.”

With a little nod, she closed the door behind her, leaving Eskel to release the half-breath he’d been holding. 

_______

The weekend passed all-too quickly. Essi and Julian played a double set at the campus bar—a standing invitation they never missed no matter how busy their schedules were. They both had double lectures on Friday, and nothing quite staved off the risk of burnout like good music and an enthusiastic audience. The rest of the weekend was spent more-or-less curled up in the livingroom with stacks of notebooks, JStor printouts, and dog-eared anthologies as they got to work on their readings for the coming week.

It was Wednesday by the time Essi made it back to the campus cafe, this time a good 45 minutes early and significantly better-rested than she’d been the previous Friday. Still, it didn’t stop her from nearly jumping out of her shoes when… 

“Awake this morning, I see.” 

She turned abruptly at the familiar voice to find Dr. Eskel L. Varga standing behind her, smiling welcomingly. She grasped the outside of his arm while she caught her breath, “Well, if I wasn’t awake before, I am now. Good morning!”

A rich chuckle came from the professor’s throat as he offered her elbow a brief touch of reassurance. “You know, most people do that after they’ve turned around.” 

“You know, I’m not sure how to respond to that,” she answered lightly.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to. It was just—”

“That’s alright, I know what it was,” Essi blinked warmly up at him and Eskel got the distinct feeling she was checking him somehow, the way her eyes hovered and flickered between his own. Satisfied, she turned to the cashier and placed her usual order, stepping aside to wait with Eskel for his bagel. 

“We’ll have to keep a close eye on the twins today,” he said, tucking his wallet into his pocket.

“I think any amount of attention from either of us will be enough to prevent another mishap. But, then again, it’s a shame we won’t have an excuse to distract ourselves with an early afternoon mystery.” Essi thanked the young man behind the counter as she accepted her thermos and blueberry danish.

“Hm, I imagine you’ll be glad not to have to find my office again, though. Cheers,” Eskel held up his own travel mug before taking a sip and lidding it. “I should be off. Busy day today. Good to see you, Essi.”

“I can walk with you if you like.” 

Eskel slowed and turned tentatively back to her, “Sure, alright. If it won’t make you late.”

“No, no, I have time. My class doesn’t start until 9:30. That is, if you want company. You might…  prefer to walk alone?”

Eskel smiled again, the friendly distanced smile of someone who wanted to avoid any and all misunderstandings. You see, there was something about Essi that set this post-doctorate professor on edge—not because she made him uncomfortable. On the contrary: she made him feel surprisingly comfortable. Comfortable in a way he was not accustomed to feeling around someone he’d only just met, and briefly at that. But even the brief few minutes they’d spent in each others’ company had been enough for Eskel to feel strangely drawn to her. There was an inherent intimacy in the way she interacted with him—with everyone, he assumed; the way her large blue eyes blinked slowly and inquisitively at him, the way they penetrated without piercing and lingered on his without darting away. It only served to enhance the subtle, self-possessed sensuality she exuded, and it made Eskel slightly-less-than-comfortable (insofar as he found it unavoidably appealing). 

“I don’t mind a bit of company from time to time,” he offered, having opted for ‘Intriguing Conversation with Interesting Potential Future Student’ as his intention for this and all future encounters. They walked for about a minute in silence, neither quite knowing where to begin. Without the crutch of mistaken coffee-identity, the realm of conversational possibilities seemed a bit daunting. Eskel decided to ease the tension, “So, Essi. You know that I teach in the English department and where my office is. What’s your major? Or are you just doing general studies?” 

“Well, I did do general studies my first year of undergrad,” a small piece of Eskel’s uneasiness eased. So she’s a grad student… “Now, I’m finishing off the first half of my Poetry MFA.”

Essi watched as his face immediately opened, eyes lighting up like a kid at DisneyLand, “Really? What’s your focus?” It was unbearably endearing. 

“Affect and Poetic Performance. I’m examining the relationship between lyric and melody through the lens of Affect Theory.”

“Affect Theory…”

“It’s a way of talking about our ineffable responses to different environments. It’s all well and good to say, ‘well this or that has a certain vibe,’ or ‘something about that person feels off,’ when we’re speaking colloquially, but how do we talk about it in a broader, more objective way for the purposes of research? It’s a kind of philosophy of sensing if you think about it.”

Essi’s entire demeanor had changed on the turn of a dime. She was effusive, incisive, and talking a mile a minute, her gestures captivatingly eccentric as she spoke—Eskel thought it looked like her thoughts were physical things she was trying to pull out of her so she could arrange them properly. He wanted to see more of this side of her. Not just because he was amused and impressed, but because he was genuinely fascinated by where all this discussion of affect was going.

“And so affect itself is…”

“Affect is the thing that happens before emotion; a gut feeling or an intuition. It’s all those feelings we don’t have words for yet still sense acutely and precisely.” Her footsteps were becoming shorter, as though they were trying to keep pace with her thoughts, and her cheeks were starting to flush a pretty shade of pink beneath her light layer of foundation (or powder or whatever it was that made her shimmer slightly). 

“This all sounds very elusive, Essi.”

“Exactly! It is! It’s incredibly elusive! And yet, what is it about a certain song that we can all agree sounds ‘melancholy’? How do we, as artists—poets, actors, sculptors, writers, musicians, gallerists, interior decorators—curate affect in a way that’s consistent and predictable?” 

“Hm…” Eskel had forgotten about being charmed by his companion and was now fully invested in the inquiry at hand. He felt confident that he’d pieced it together so far. “So: how do lyrics and melody work together to form a cohesive, wide-reaching atmosphere...”

“—And how does the singer or musician facilitate that? Precisely.”

“It sounds like you’re digging into some interesting corners. Are you enjoying it?”

“I’m finding it invigorating,” the pink of her cheeks only served to intensify the blue of her irises as they flashed brightly up at him. 

��I’m happy to hear that. It isn’t always the case,” Eskel stopped, having reached the top of the hallway leading to his office. “I should get to work, but. Thank you for the company. You’re thinking about a lot of interesting things.”

“A roundabout way of saying I’m interesting, perhaps.” There was no flirtation in her voice, no slyness on her face, but Eskel felt his face grow warm all the same. He couldn’t decide what was worse: that she wasn’t flirting but stating the obvious; or that her stating the obvious had the same effect as flirting. 

“Yes, well. Duty calls,” he gave Essi a polite wave and turned towards his office.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He stopped. “Sure” he replied stiffly, privately bracing himself for the inevitable question. Fine. Alright. It’s natural to be curious. 

“What’s the L stand for?”

Eskel turned back to face her, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “Sorry?”

“Eskel L. Varga. What’s the L for?”

“Oh! Sorry I thought…” he scratched gently at his right cheek and Essi’s heart sank. How many callous people had imposed their curiosity on him? A spark of protective anger shot up inside her as she watched his hand and she had an overwhelming urge to reach for him. “It’s, uh, it’s for Llewlyn.”

She swallowed heavily, restraining her hand as it twitched by her side, wanting to touch, to ease, to unburden. “You thought I was going to ask about something else that’s none of my business.”

Eskel rocked on his heels, examining the various dings and dents in the linoleum tiling, “Yes.”

“That’s none of my business.”

“Thank you,” he looked up, his free hand now in his pocket. “Most people don’t… I should go.”

“Have a good week, Eskel.”

“You, too.” 

To say that Eskel retreated behind his office door would be a bit of an overstatement. But in the quiet solitude of his own private space, he had a moment to collect himself, to temper the intense vulnerability pressing on his chest. But there was another feeling, too, that felt more… elastic. A buoyancy driven by stimulating conversation and pleasant company; he was impressed, incredibly impressed; and despite his better judgement there was a part of him that hoped he would see her again on Friday morning. 

Essi made her way to class with an indelible smile on her face as she struggled to convince herself that it was a professor’s job to listen to eager students and find their research topics interesting. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening. She didn’t know what, just yet, but it was something. Only time would tell.

______

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[treasureswordsgirl55]

X - Wing

Character: Poe Dameron

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Princess!FemReader.

Inspired by (Song) : Your Love / The Outfield

Warnings: Mentions of Death. Mentions to First Order. Post!TROS. Fluff. Funny.

Author's Note: Ok, here we go again.

This was the 7° fic about Poe that I'd write in a same week a few months ago. Maybe I have more than... 20 without finished, to be honest.

But this is one of my favourites, so... I hope you like it!!! XOXO 😘😘😘

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Josie's on a vacation far away, Come around and talk it over, So many things that I want to say, You know I like my girls a little bit older, I just want to use your love tonight, I don't want to lose your love tonight

The song plays in that small cabin where, being observed from the outside, a black x-wing with orange sectors performs pirouettes under the sky of Aureallis, attracting the attention of many little ones and that of a man who does nothing but let out full snorts of annoyance. He felt his blood boil, and although he knew that he was there with his friends at the request of General Organa, he could not get out of his head that the blurred image he had seen a few days ago seemed the x -wing of him.

Now he could confirm it.

That beautiful ship that he loved so much and that he had lost when he was captured by the First Order doing pirouettes as if it were a show plane.

Poe Dameron wanted to throw up.

He restrained himself from doing so when his best friend approached, standing next to him and looking for what his friend was looking at in the sky.

- What do we observe?

- Do you see the little ship doing pirouettes? - The young man shook his head looking at the entire pink sky, characteristic for the presence of a strange form of iron in the atmosphere that did not make it toxic to any species, especially to humans. The pilot, impatient and even more nervous, took the head of his friend and turned it to where the ship was at that moment. Finn exclaimed a sound similar to surprise and then turned, as he could, his face towards Poe, who seemed to be burning fire from his eyes.

- It's very similar ... - he left the sentence half finished as the ship began its descent as if it were a living being. The way only he used to treat it. This is how his mother had taught him, to treat a ship as if it were a companion - It is not possible.

The pilot nodded at the same time that Rey saw them, without even thinking about the position that his best friends were: anyone who saw them, they would say they were hugging. She giggled to herself as she allowed herself to be carried away by that private joke they had with Rose, that their affection for each other was a secret and forbidden love for the Resistance.

She could not hide her laughter and that made the two men separate from each other in a second, leaning casually on the railing of the gazebo of that palace.

- You two looked adorable - Finn just smirked and Poe rolled his eyes at how unobvious Finn was to hide his feelings for Rey. He gave his friend a shove and heard him curse, enjoying it. He'd tried anyway to get Finn to seduce Rey, but the man was stubborn about it and she was unchanging. So much so that Poe got tired of trying and began to observe the clumsy attempts at approach of his friend.

- What happened?

- Queen Azala will receive us - The youngest high-fived, BB-8 extended his tool in approval and Poe smiled, although it will be difficult for him to express his feelings towards them, he would do anything to keep them safe and by his side, even if it cost him his life in the attempt - She waits for us in the meeting room.

- Come on - Poe waited for his friends to pass to observe for the last time the one that he once knew to be his ship.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A year and a half later ...

- They're here, Your Highness. - I rolled my eyes as a clear sign of annoyance causing Aimeen to laugh.

- Thank you very much for calling them - I smiled at Palmer, one of my court assistants, who just nodded. I took his hand and he squeezed it as if his life depended on it. Thank goodness I'm not like my mother - Have it ready before they arrive. The commander must receive it in the same condition that he lost it - After so many talks between the Resistance and Aureallis, and establishing a beautiful friendship between us, Rey told me about the x-wing that was on our landing platform. Which turned out to be from Poe, and I felt even more awful. I automatically discussed it with my father when they left and the mechanics team took it upon themselves to leave it as new.

I was eager to see him. It had been over a year since I last saw them, and that tight stomach that barely let me breathe had never gone away. The first time I met him, he was the heir to the throne, now, he was the one who occupied it.

- That thing is imposing - Aimeen indicates the window to me and when I get closer, we see the Millennium Falcon land without any difficulty on our little airstrip. I shook my head and heard the typical beeps coming from the other side of the door, smiled unconsciously and nodded for them to pass.

- Kayla! I'm so glad to see you - Rey's smile conveyed that genuine joy that I also felt when I saw her - Leia sends you her greetings. Nice to see you Aimeen.

- Me too - The two of us melted into a warm hug and I barely separated, I bent down to leave a soft kiss on BB-8's head - How have you been little?

- Beep. Beep. Beeeeep. - We both laughed and when I looked behind her, but no one else came in. Where was he?

- I'm glad to hear that. And the rest of the team? - Ask trying to be as sneaky as possible. A gleam in Rey's eyes made me think that nothing was escaping her. Much less if she was being trained by Leia.

- Finn and Chewie are in the Falcon. Poe is on the lookout, I think he likes the view.

The second my father entered with three more senators, to finish finalizing the details of the information regarding the Empire that the Resistance needed and at that moment I took the opportunity to leave. I walked quickly between the different corridors of the palace and when I reached the door that led to the viewpoint, I doubted what to do.

What would I say? What did I want to see him?

The doors opened so quietly that I didn't even hear them and stood between them. Despite the little wind, I can hear him taking a deep breath and his body moving in time with his breathing.

For a moment I lost myself in my thoughts and imagined him as the type of man out of the novels that my father gave me from his trips to different planets. Romance novels had ruined my head, so much so that this handsome man couldn't be in front of me. Try not to think about it, to look away quickly, not to think about how good it would feel to run your fingers through those jet-black curls and just appeal to the thought of a baby. More precisely in a baby with the appearance of the abominable Jabba.

It did not work.

I tried not to make noise to watch him for a few more minutes, but he barely moved to remove a pair of headphones and leaned on his elbows on the railing, not the slightest hint of turning.

- Your Highness, it's a pleasure that you enjoyed me with your company - I let out a laugh and remembered how intuitive this man was. I didn't even move, instead, he turned around with that arrogant smile that came to love from a distance.

- Commander, it is an honor that you are in Aureallis after such a long time - When the only guard at the viewpoint left, giving us privacy, we looked at each other and burst out laughing at the same time that he approached and hugged me. I took a deep breath hoping to enjoy that feeling of freedom that he always seemed to convey, in addition to that sweet aroma that his brown leather jacket gave off.

- I'm very sorry about what happened to his mother, Your Highness - I nodded as we parted, and we were left in front of the imposing sea of ​​blue waters that flooded 90% of this planet.

- Me too.

- It must have been difficult; losing a loved one and taking responsibility for an entire planet in less than 24 hours.

We were both silent for a few seconds and I didn't know what to answer him. I had been taught what to do when I assumed my role as senator, but I was never prepared to lose my mother. And less for a mistake of the Republic.

-It's never easy, no matter how much you've spent a lifetime preparing for it - I admit looking at him sideways and seeing that he plays with a ring between his fingers. That ring that he never took off and about which I did not dare to ask.

- It was from my mother. She died when I was little. It's the only thing I have of her and I remember her - Sadness invades her voice and I feel like an intruder. He keeps his gaze fixed on some point on the horizon and smiles, dropping her head, like her beautiful curls - I miss her too much.

- I know - I answer him in a sigh and he turns to see me - You turned out to be quite intuitive, Dameron. Leia must be happy.

- Years of practice, Your Highness.

I barely pulled away from her side and crossed my arms trying to look angry. I didn't make it as I looked like I was entertaining him. Could I ever talk seriously to this man?

- Let's get this formality thing over with. We're just Poe and Kayla here. Ok? - He nodded raising his hands as if he wanted to get rid of the guilt of that and shook his head. This man was impossible - Join me.

Poe frowned, but he followed me in complete silence. I was uncomfortable with it but didn't know what we could talk about either. - Won't you ask where I'm taking you?

- I prefer the surprise factor - He was silent again - Nice necklace. I do not know that constellation.

I touched the charm that my father had given me from one of his many trips and smiled. i never took it off me. - It was a gift from my father, from a very, very distant planet, from where you can see our star, Polaris. And they say it is the brightest in his firmament. It is part of the constellation Ursa Minor. This, on the other hand, is "the big spoon" - I hear him laugh and as soon as I turn around he tries to get serious - It is part of the Big Dipper. I could never see it but I know it must be beautiful.

- I never visited Earth, now you mention the Big Dipper, but they say it is a jewel in space.

We walk the last stretch in complete silence and when we get to the ship hangar, he looks at me strangely.

-I would like to give you something - As soon as I open the door I notice that his mouth falls for a moment

But he regains his composure in the second, smiling and walking towards the fully repaired x-wing.

- Is my…

- It was a gift from the First Order to my father when they tried to get him to agree to work with them. He accept it but decline his offer.

- I didn't think I'll see it again. But when I saw it that day that ... Who was it that used it as a pirouette plane? - That's when I realized how much that ship mattered to him.

- I'm sorry about that, but it was irresistible for me to do it - I raised my hands in defense and I pouted at him hoping he didn't scream but all he did was laugh.

- Were you the pilot? - I nodded. I still felt terrible knowing that this one had been stolen. But he loved that ship with his soul, it felt so good to handle it that it should be illegal. In the same way it should be illegal to look so attractive without even trying. I kept my composure but enjoyed looking at it as I pleased while observing the x-wing, always so eye-catching, so attractive and a magnet for glances. For a second I imagined that he was observing me in the same way and that what he felt would be reciprocated, but who would dare to mess with a woman like me?

- It was my hobby before assuming the Crown ... I always liked driving, more after I got on this baby.

- Thank you - He murmur lost in his thoughts as he stroked the wings of that great bird, as I had learned to call it.

- Why?

- For bringing it back to me.

I simply nodded and stepped aside, indicating that he could go out for a spin in it and that when he left, he would have clearance to fly it. I thought that he would automatically climb in and literally fly out of the hangar, and that he would come back late at night, but he patted the wing of his ship and approached where he was.

- I'd like to thank you.

- It is not necessary to thank something that is yours.

- You didn't understand me, I want to - That authoritative tone in his voice made a chill run through me from head to toe - Let me thank you.

He took a few steps closer, closing the distance that separated us, remaining only inches from my lips if it weren't for the fact that he was taking me a few inches extra.

- It's not necessary ... - I wanted to move away but I took my hands and turned, leaving me facing the ship and feeling the slight pressure of his body against mine - Poe...

- When you want to handle an x-wing you must let yourself be carried away and the most important thing you must make him guide you. Someone like BB-8 will be a great help, but you can handle yourself in short intervals - He takes my hands in his and starts moving them in the air as if the x-wing controls were in front of us. I look at him again and I find him looking at me - What?

- Is this your way of flirting with a women?

- It depends.

- It depends? What kind of answer is that?

- Well, not normally. Since none of the women I dated were interested in aviation - He moved my hands in the air again, this time intertwining his fingers between mine - A moment ago you said "it depends"

- mhm... What does it depend on?

- Whether it is working or not.

Color automatically rose up my neck and I felt my body burn. That was an answer I hadn't expected. I tried to focus on whatever he was saying but couldn't remember a word.

- When pass a couple more classes, I'll tell you Flyboy.